Characterised Setting

I promised in a previous post (Opening a Story) that I would post a discussion about the necessity and importance of characters and setting in writing. Therefore, I present to you a post on the interaction between characters and setting. Or as I call it, characterised setting.

I recently had a discussion with a friend about what it is that truly drives the best novels. Or for that matter the best television shows or films. In short, the question was 'what element or ingredient are readers and viewers truly looking for?' He argued that it is characters that drive the core of the story - that readers want to meet the main character in the opening chapter (hence my removal of the prologue from my novel) and form that emotional attachment. I argued that the setting of the novel - the world and its rules were equally as important.

The argument for the importance of Character

Popular works of fiction all feature fantastic character dynamics. Think about the last time you watched a film, or read a book that lacked any kind of important relationship between characters. The Lord of the Rings becomes less interesting without the members of the fellowship. Sherlock is nothing without a relationship with Watson. Iron Man is merely Tony Stark without Jarvis or the Avengers to bounce-off. Batman again is simply Bruce Wayne, and a boring incarnation of the character without Alfred or Robin and so on and so forth.

The following image, from helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com details five important character archetypes in stories. A later post trims this to three necessary characters - the protagonist, antagonist and relationship character. I would argue therefore that a strong story opening would introduce one of these three key characters - either the antagonist or protagonist preferably. Or even both. Another post over at thewritepractice.com argues that the clown archetype is also crucial for comic relief and humour.

The argument for setting

Without characters there is nothing propelling the story. The story I would argue is the most essential aspect of any novel. Without characters to propel a story, there is no point to running a storyline. So lacking characters, or worse: writing weak or boring characters is a cardinal sin for writers. However, I would argue it is not enough to simply have characters. They need a setting to frame them and provide dilemmas. They need a world in which they can develop and thrive.

Well-written characters in a dull, poorly-written setting would be akin to buying tropical fish and placing them on display in a simple fish tank. In other situations it could be more similar to putting beautiful fish into a dirty tank where no one can see them. So ideally you want to create an atmospheric setting in which your characters thrive.

Therefore, picking the right setting is crucial for your story. If you are trying to create a futuristic science fiction novel then picking a 1920s setting is not necessarily the best choice. Unless of course you are trying to create a futuristic novel set in a 1920s-esque world. However, my point is that the setting you choose needs to fit with your novel's aim. 

To state it firmer: your setting is purposeless unless it is contributing to the story. If you are intending to write a sappy, romantic fairytale then creating a dark, gothic castle setting will not provide your audience emotions which are light, airy and delightful. The tone that a writer designates for their setting will contribute directly to the mood in which the audience receives that world.

Characterised Setting

My argument is not that character or setting are by themselves more important. I argue that they are crucial together. My favourite fictional worlds are littered with characters that I have emotionally invested in. My favourite characters adorn fascinating worlds. The two, I believe, must rest hand in hand.

Some authors choose to begin a story focusing on their setting and elaborately crafting it in order to drive their characters. Others focus on their characters to drive the setting. In and of themselves either method may work. 

Either option, I believe, is only a mistake if in the process the novelist loses sight of the story they are telling and by extension lose their audience. The number one purpose of any writer must be to maintain the focus on their central ideas that they are communicating and to remember who their audience are. Once an author loses sight of that purpose and audience, they lose sight of the reason to write in the beginning.

Hence why I am attempting to wrap my ideas into one concept I consider 'characterised setting.' Whereby the novelist creates a setting which is as defined by its characters as the characters are defined by their setting. It is a concept in which writing must become more organic and flow - rather than purely remaining a stagnant art. 

I have drawn this conclusion from personal experience. I considered the notion that there are some elements which are unique to every individual - were I born in Southern Africa it is likely I would still have a passion for storytelling for example. However, would I necessarily have the same love for English novels, for films and for sports unique to my area of the world? I doubt it. There are some aspects of my character - particular, peculiar passions and desires - that have been honed by my location and the worldview formed by that location.

The writer must, therefore, strive to balance how their setting is defined by the characters they have created. They must also balance how the characters are defined by the setting. A failure to do this is a failure to create honestly written work. Instead, readers will sense that the characters do not fit into their surroundings or that the surroundings do not match the characters and the suppression of disbelief will fade.

The process of characterising setting

How does the author do this however? It is a process I am still practising myself. However, I believe strongly that as all writing stems from ideas (from thinking, and editing those thoughts) that the creation of appropriate characters and settings must likewise stem from a process of careful editing. The writer must choose particular key adjectives and adverbs (where appropriate) to convey strong emotions about their character and then link the cause of those emotions to the world around the character. And conversely, to be able to choose whether to describe a castle as merely 'haunting', 'gloomy' or 'shadowed with the souls of its former masters' to appropriately create an image of how the setting will appear.

There is an art to writing that can only be met once the writer has achieved their goal. There is a fine balance between seeking to be descriptive and creating vivid images, or merely being prescriptive in the use of exposition. There is also a balance between attempting to create characters who readers emotionally envision as real and trying to write in a manner which follows realistic patterns. How many dialogues in novels follow the same halting, awkward patterns as everyday human speech?

In essence, the true skill of writing is in being able to mentally work out methods of tying words together to express varying emotions in the reader. The article From Fables to Facebook discusses that, "It seems, therefore, that narrative language and literary techniques can stimulate the entire brain, which is why storytelling can make us feel alive, as if we’re really in the action. This thorough mental immersion shows that our brain, at least, doesn’t make much distinction between reading about something and actually experiencing it." Words have power, the skill of being a writer is in being able to use that power effectively.

What Is A Worthy Text?

From my other blog: 13th July 2015

Today in my first week of uni for trimester two, we looked at the English Education VCE text list. One idea that was presented is that texts for selection must be found: 'worthy'. Or else:

"-have literary merit and be worthy of close study
-be an excellent example of form and genre

- sustain intensive study, raising interesting issues and providing challenging ideas 

- be appropriate for both male and female students 

- be appropriate for the age and development of students and, in that context, reflect current community standards and expectations."

I further ran into this Stephen Fry quote on the worth or value of particular texts today: “I will defend the absolute value of Mozart over Miley Cyrus, of course I will, but we should be wary of false dichotomies. You do not have to choose between one or the other. You can have both. The human cultural jungle should be as varied and plural as the Amazonian rainforest. We are all richer for biodiversity. We may decide that a puma is worth more to us than a caterpillar, but surely we can agree that the habitat is all the better for being able to sustain each.”

This is in essence the problem with considering certain texts to be worthy - it inevitably creates a dichotomy in which other texts are not. And texts encompass a whole range of media: invariably anything you can read and analyse with your eyes from recipes, to films, to t-shirts become a text. Who am I as a critic to say that one individual may derive less value from Twilight or a Nickleback t-shirt than I do from Great Expectations and a dinner suit? 

Here we encounter a tricky literary idea. One further expounded upon by a discussion of critical literacy. Critical literacy being the analysis of the ideas that lie behind language and texts. The idea that language works to shape reality and promote particular relations of power. Texts may be constructed (photographs are a great example) as one particular snapshot that the author wishes to convey and so they speak through as much as what is being left out as what is being left in. A film is an edited work with sound (or lack of it), VFX or practical effects, different camera angles and a whole array of directorial decisions in how the scenes are arranged to tell the story. A novel like a poem or short story uses 

So what provides a text worth? What makes it worthy? Here I think you must take into account the cultural and social context in which the text is found. If we talk about clothing as text then it is not appropriate for someone to wear the aforementioned Nickleback tee in a fine dining establishment. Much as it would be odd and jarring for a dinner suit to be worn to a rock concert. But each text in their corresponding environment is worthy. 

This to me is most likely what the VCE guidelines are aiming to establish: the notion of worth across cultures, genres and individuals. And it is here where critics of films and novels must be able to consider whether the text has worth outside of the environment of their own personal preferences. Does the text promote morals which are healthy to a wider audience? Is it a great example of its format? Is it well written? I love The Hunger Games but were I to decide upon a text better exemplifying its themes then I would suggest any of Brave New World, 1984 or Fahrenheit 451. Yet were I to pick out what The Hunger Games is worth I would suggest it is a valuable example of writing with pace, imagination and of giving a form of entertainment which challenges as much as entertains. It may not have the same worth in one context but it may have greater worth in another. 

This to me is what a worthy text should be about: how worthy is a text across multiple contexts? And I believe critics should judge texts on both levels: on worth within its own context (genre etc.) and worth in other contexts. 

Dealing With Worldbuilding

From my other blog: 23rd July 2015

I have been contemplating the following quote recently and come to decide upon my own stance in regards to it which I wish to share with you.

"Every moment of a science fiction story must represent the triumph of writing over worldbuilding.

Worldbuilding is dull. Worldbuilding literalises the urge to invent. Worldbuilding gives an unnecessary permission for acts of writing (indeed, for acts of reading). Worldbuilding numbs the reader’s ability to fulfil their part of the bargain, because it believes that it has to do everything around here if anything is going to get done.

Above all, worldbuilding is not technically necessary. It is the great clomping foot of nerdism. It is the attempt to exhaustively survey a place that isn’t there. A good writer would never try to do that, even with a place that is there. It isn’t possible, & if it was the results wouldn’t be readable: they would constitute not a book but the biggest library ever built, a hallowed place of dedication & lifelong study. This gives us a clue to the psychological type of the worldbuilder & the worldbuilder’s victim, & makes us very afraid."

- John M Harrison

I am, and have been, a huge fan of the concept of worldbuilding. I like nothing better than to sit down and enjoy a film or a book with a fascinating universe or different world to explore. Works from Tolkien to the Marvel superhero universe to television shows like Doctor Who fascinate me with their expansion and exploration of mythical or fictional places and ideas. So to read from an author who says that worldbuilding is a problem is in itself problematic to me. I feel that he misunderstands the very concept of worldbuilding. Maybe because of the problems listed in the following article: http://io9.com/7-deadly-sins-of-worldbuilding-998817537

The issue is that worldbuilding often becomes an excuse to focus on the setting rather than on the characters, If you went to a stage play and the background was fantastic and the set pieces, lighting and music yelled WOW at you but the acting stunk and the plot was terrible you'd feel rather let down. The same goes for fiction and worldbuilding. It cannot be all about the worldbuilding, but to that matter neither can you just focus on the story in a fictionalised sci-fi/fantasy setting without setting down some kind of worldbuilding rules. It just doesn't make sense if you're mentioning fictional places without explanation or rules etc.

So it's not worldbuilding that is bad but it is how worldbuilding is often used that can be very bad indeed and I fear this is what John M Harrison has encountered as an author. My response is that I think readers (and film viewers) deserve a touch of worldbuilding. What would Lord of the Rings be like without the setting of Middle Earth? What would fans think of Harry Potter without Hogwarts? Or Doctor Who without the various alien races of Daleks, Cybermen, Time Lords etc. What would any fantasy novel be without its magical rules? The problem in dealing with worldbuilding therefore lies in utilising it in moderation. But using anything in moderation, in balance, is in essence the art of quality writing and makes all the difference. Leave your reader wanting more, but not too much.