Summary and scene
This week, I adored Tobias Wolff’s story, especially when his narrator fixated on the ceiling of the bank even though he was about to be shot. This is interesting, as the reader witnesses time slow down. It is again repeated when he is shot. The menial immaturity provides comic relief – whilst also making most of us hate the narrator. The retrieval of memory from childhood with no significance in particular captivated me. How can I give significance to things that seemingly have none?
- One of the girls in my class said what would have been short became long – I love this idea of elongating moments that most authors might summarise or skip past. Especially in my story about Abigail, I think I am going to have her pause for a moment at the climax of the story when she is at her most afraid – or should be – and almost dissipate into a menial thought. I haven’t thought in depth about it as of yet, but I can imagine that this will take the story in a completely alternate direction, creating interest for both myself and the reader, whilst hopefully providing character development for Abi.
- What about giving her a flaw? Much like Wolff’s character’s annoyance? Maybe my readers don’t have to always like Abi?
A perfect representative story which displays good use of summary and scene (in my opinion) is John Cheever’s Reunion. I think this was suggested to me by someone in my seminar group, perhaps my teacher? His character representation is flawless and precise in the limited words he uses, doing exactly what Hemingway said to reveal ‘only the tip of the iceberg’. Indeed Nande argues that “instead of using elaborate plot devices or merely telling his readers what has happened, Cheever shows this through the actions of his characters and the emotions brought about by these actions, without additional commentary.” I think, particularly because I tend to struggle to write the middle sections of my stories, summary is very important for me. I adore the idea however of doing what Cheever does which is to convey response to actions to manoeuvre a reader’s way through the story, without having to be explicit. This focus on action, taking what I learn from Cheever’s character representation, whilst zooming in as Wolff does on specific, seemingly small moments (and giving these small moments meaning, which could be very interesting) I think I will be able to drive my story forward with showing rather than telling.
Strange Little Stories 