mark_asphodel (
mark_asphodel) wrote2011-08-04 05:32 pm
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Back to Rules Ten and Eleven.
OK. My brain has snapped back into writerly mode after a hiatus. So, onward with the rules of fiction per Samuel Clemens.
10. They require that the author shall make the reader feel a deep interest in the personages of his tale and in their fate; and that he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and hate the bad ones.
I'd modify that. A lot of us are into nuanced portrayals of good and bad, wherein outright love and outright hate of a character isn't really the key reaction. This is one thing that did really excite me about anime (and carries over into Fire Emblem)-- principled antagonists who aren't merely "bad" people. And honestly, there is some really successful fiction, like The Crying of Lot 49, wherein deep emotional investment in the characters isn't really... the point. Oedipa Maas is something of a successor to Nick Carraway, but the reader probably doesn't identify with her the way they're invited to identify with Nick. But, yes, generally speaking, a successful book is one wherein the reader takes a deep and personal interest in the characters. Harry Potter didn't get to be so popular because the magical meta was well-constructed, after all. Character love and character hate in the Potter fandom is a thing to behold... even of some of them seem to be reading Bizarro Land copies of the books.
And, in a worst-case scenario...
But the reader of the "Deerslayer" tale dislikes the good people in it, is indifferent to the others, and wishes they would all get drowned together.
I've read books like that, oh yes.
11. They require that the characters in a tale shall be so clearly defined that the reader can tell beforehand what each will do in a given emergency.
This was the rule that made me sit up and take notice. It's an awesome rule. I've held for years that the writer ought to know what their characters will do in an emergency, but that's with cheat sheets and pages of character ruminations and all kinds of background info. To have all that communicated cleanly to the reader so that they know that it's right when the by-the-book character gets flustered and the sensation-seeking screw-off buckles down under pressure, that one character copes by deliberately focusing on one static moment at a time and another processes it all on autopilot... that's impressive. That's something to aspire to, if not as a main goal than at least as some secondary or tertiary goal in the back of the brain. I like that idea. A lot.
10. They require that the author shall make the reader feel a deep interest in the personages of his tale and in their fate; and that he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and hate the bad ones.
I'd modify that. A lot of us are into nuanced portrayals of good and bad, wherein outright love and outright hate of a character isn't really the key reaction. This is one thing that did really excite me about anime (and carries over into Fire Emblem)-- principled antagonists who aren't merely "bad" people. And honestly, there is some really successful fiction, like The Crying of Lot 49, wherein deep emotional investment in the characters isn't really... the point. Oedipa Maas is something of a successor to Nick Carraway, but the reader probably doesn't identify with her the way they're invited to identify with Nick. But, yes, generally speaking, a successful book is one wherein the reader takes a deep and personal interest in the characters. Harry Potter didn't get to be so popular because the magical meta was well-constructed, after all. Character love and character hate in the Potter fandom is a thing to behold... even of some of them seem to be reading Bizarro Land copies of the books.
And, in a worst-case scenario...
But the reader of the "Deerslayer" tale dislikes the good people in it, is indifferent to the others, and wishes they would all get drowned together.
I've read books like that, oh yes.
11. They require that the characters in a tale shall be so clearly defined that the reader can tell beforehand what each will do in a given emergency.
This was the rule that made me sit up and take notice. It's an awesome rule. I've held for years that the writer ought to know what their characters will do in an emergency, but that's with cheat sheets and pages of character ruminations and all kinds of background info. To have all that communicated cleanly to the reader so that they know that it's right when the by-the-book character gets flustered and the sensation-seeking screw-off buckles down under pressure, that one character copes by deliberately focusing on one static moment at a time and another processes it all on autopilot... that's impressive. That's something to aspire to, if not as a main goal than at least as some secondary or tertiary goal in the back of the brain. I like that idea. A lot.
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I don't think it's even all about emergencies, but they're probably the best examples because they make you pay attention.
It makes me smile when I come up with some bit of obscure meta, and then I realize it lines up perfectly with FE canon. For example, Soren did not learn to speak until age six, which suggests that almost the entirety of his magical tutelage was done silently. And so one day I came to the conclusion that he probably lipped or at most whispered incantations. I realized that in the cutscene in RD, he had no voice acting whatsoever as he was casting magic, as opposed to Micaiah. I was thrilled.
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Well, do keep in mind that these "rules" are reacting against a piece of fiction in which, according to Twain, basic considerations for characterization are just thrown out the window. A totally predictable character is a dull one, but a plausible character would at least have their "crisis" actions in keeping with what we see before. If they crack under pressure, we'd have seen evidence of those cracks. If they thrive under pressure, we'd have seen hints of that beforehand. That sort of thing.
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I think, however, that while we're busy subverting things, in the end it is on some level important for the reader to feel okay with the way things turn out in terms of "good" and "bad". I think this ties in with other unspoken rules regarding guiding expectations and tragedy. Barring carefully setting these expectations otherwise (As they often are in literary works such as 1985), the reader should feel comfortable with the winning side winning.
Subversions generally fall under "carefully setting these expectations otherwise". I suppose you could have an avant garde piece that reads entirely like genre fantasy until rocks fall and everyone dies a pointless death two pages before the end, but I'd sooner call that troll than art.
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I'd agree with you there. But, yes. The reader should feel that whatever fate the characters meet isn't an outright violation of their expectations.
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Aaaaand I wonder if all those charts I had to fill out in creative writing classes, deciding what sort of ice cream my medieval fantasy character would like, comes from an exaggeration of #11. I mean, I know some people who find doing that kind of thing extremely helpful, but 9 characters out of 10, it just drives me batty.
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I think you may be right, and I think that means that these people need to read more books and less fanfiction!
who feel absolutely no trace of sexism/racism/whatever-ism despite everyone else in their society feeling that way.
Like... Ike?
I mean, I know some people who find doing that kind of thing extremely helpful, but 9 characters out of 10, it just drives me batty.
I'm with you there. With my original characters, there were some that I felt I needed to know what their favorite flavor of hard candy was... and some that I didn't know and didn't care.
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Oh, Ike. I really do find certain aspects of him endearing, but I did find it pretty hard to believe the immediate "oops my bad" he did regarding laguz. It felt more believable in FE10, after he'd been cooperating with them for some time, but. . .yeah that bit was one of the biggest things that kept me from getting into Ike, honestly. I've come to like him, but it's mostly Ammie's fault.
I guess for me, if details like that are important, they just kind of. . .turn up, sort of. If they don't come to me, I don't usually feel I need to know.