Characters

In the lead up to creating my own characters for my final assignment, I have decided to have a look at some common character identities and methods of characterisation in media.

As always, I started by reading Abrams’ entry Characterisation in his Glossary of Literary Terms to help me understand how to build my characters. According to Abrams (1999, p. 32-33) characters are the representations of people (human, alien, flora or fauna – Alice in Wonderland proved even flowers can have a personality) in a text, and are “interpreted by the reader as being endowed with particular moral, intellectual, and emotional qualities” which form the basis of their character. The reader discovers these qualities by drawing inferences based on a character’s actions or dialogue.

They’re horrifying, but they’ve certainly got personality

Main characters, especially the primary protagonist and antagonist, are usually driven by a motive. It informs their personality, morals, choices, and desires, and must be taken into account by the author when writing their dialogue and actions.

This motive is usually informed by a major event in a character’s back-story – however, a character does not have to maintain a single motive throughout their arc. Sometimes a motive will be completely discarded by a character due to an event in their arc; other times, it will be overtaken or joined by other additional motives.

According to Abrams (1999, p. 33), characters can either remain “essentially stable… in outlook or disposition” throughout the entire text, or may instead progress through what is now commonly known as a “character arc”. This is when the character in question faces a series of trials and their very motive or personality is affected by it. The bare essentials of the character remain the same – they do not act in a manner which is entirely unexpected by the audience, a manner so out of character that the audience feels like they are reading about or watching an completely different person (hello Season Eight Daenerys). Their actions must be supported by previous character development. Otherwise, it’s not a clever twist introduced by the author – it’s just lazy writing. Oh look, Dany’s back.

Once one of the most interesting characters on TV. Played by a brilliant actress. Written by morons.

Of course, characters don’t need to be created with a single motive or quality in mind – this results in a two dimensional character, who requires no analysis to be understood, and therefore is not particularly interesting to the audience. This option works well in genres like children’s stories and fairy tales, but is not nearly as effective in media created for those over the age of ten.

Three dimensional characters are much more interesting. They are presented with complex motives, are not easily defined as a hero, a villain, or a helper, and are capable of change while still staying true to their own personality and story.

At this point, I would like to introduce a character from one of my favourite shows as an example. Mainly because it gives me an excuse to re-watch Avatar: The Last Airbender while I do the ironing, but also because Zuko is a wonderful example of a three dimensional character.

I’ll be honest I just chose this gif because I love the animation

His loyalties change completely throughout the series, and yet his primary motive remains exactly the same: he wants to earn honour, and protect and be loved by his family.

In the beginning of the first season of ATLA, Zuko appeared to fit perfectly into the ‘villain’ character archetype. As the prince of a genocidal nation, he hunts the Avatar (a twelve year old pacifist monk) across the world, viewing him as a threat which needs to be imprisoned or completely removed from the picture. He tells us early on that capturing the Avatar is the only way to regain his honour.

We later learn that the reason he is hunting the Avatar is to appease his father, and in his eyes, ‘regain’ his honour. Zuko had been banished from his own country for opposing a plan to sacrifice several hundred soldiers as a diversion, which would have guaranteed their deaths. He was forced to fight his father, who then burned the left side of his face and sent him on a mission to capture the Avatar – who had not been seen in the last 100 years. So you know. Obviously his dad really wanted him to come back.

We also find out that his mother murdered his grandfather to save his life, and has been missing ever since. Also, his sister is insane.

This revelation of his back-story lends him some sympathy, especially since he is 16 years old. He is eventually hunted by his own sister (another fantastic three dimensional character with some severe mental instability caused by an abusive childhood), and travels as a refugee with his uncle. During this time he sees the damage his country has done to others, meets soldiers and refugees, helps civilians, rescues his enemies, operates as a vigilante, and struggles to find emotional and spiritual balance.

He betrays the Avatar and his friends to go home, but eventually defects, tracks down the Avatar, and works to make amends and remove his family from power.

Zuko moves across Propp’s Seven Spheres of Action, acting first as the villain, and later as a hero (Barry 1995, p. 228). Although he changes sides in a global conflict, his motive for doing so is always tied to his love of and loyalty to his family, and his evolution is always in character – that is, all of his choices are dependent on an already established motive, which is effected by the obstacles in his path, and his interactions with other characters.

Zuko remains a generally gloomy figure, devoted to his family and friends, but throughout his character arc he gains emotional stability, maturity, and a clearer, more informed sense of right and wrong.

Zuko’s character arc serves as an excellent template for the correct way to write the evolution of a character. His character may be grounded in honour and family, but he learns to expand his definitions of both concepts, he listens to older and wiser characters, and it never feels as though his progression has been forced. Over three seasons, his motives and back-story are gradually revealed to the audience, making him a sympathetic and complicated character the audience begins to root for.

When I begin to write my stories for my last assignment, I think it is likely I will start off with two dimensional characters. I will have to work to expand upon their motives and solidify them as three dimensional, cross-archetype characters. I’m definitely a bit nervous about this as I have never written anything requiring comprehensive characterisation before, and as you may be able to tell from my blogging style, I am more comfortable with professional, academic writing than creative works. My current approach is to map out my character’s lives, and use their backgrounds to help me establish their motives and personalities. This way I have concrete character ideas to fall back on, to help inform my decisions and allow me to plot my characters actions appropriately.

I doubt I’ll ever live up to Zuko, but I might as well give it a go.

References:

Abrams, MH 1999, A Glossary of Literary Terms, 7th edn, Heinle & Heinle, Boston Massachusetts.

Barry, P 1995, Beginning Theory: An introduction to literary and cultural theory, 2nd edn, Manchester University Press, Manchester.

Giphy 2015, Prince Zuko Avatar GIF, Giphy, viewed 19 August 2019, <https://giphy.com/gifs/prince-zuko-agni-kai-avatar-gif-DnLY970dmEvqU&gt;.

Giphy 2019, Season 7 Dragon GIF By Game Of Thrones, Giphy, viewed 20 August 2019, <https://giphy.com/gifs/pride-and-prejudice-5T52L981XDTq0&gt;.

Giphy 2015, Taylor Swift GIF, Giphy, viewed 19 August 2019, <https://giphy.com/gifs/taylor-swift-mulan-basically-13cIaMunE7nvgI&gt;.

Jixeryes 2017, Alice In Wonderland GIF, Tenor, viewed 19 August 2019, <https://tenor.com/view/alice-in-wonderland-wonderland-alice-gif-7492617&gt;.

Joeygorla 2018, Zuko Never Happy GIF, Tenor, viewed 20 August 2019, <https://tenor.com/view/zuko-never-happy-im-never-happy-angry-gif-12009403&gt;.

Samoanbiscuit 2014, That’s Rough Buddy – Zuko, viewed 20 August 2019, <https://imgur.com/gallery/X5tD7M5&gt;.

Subtext Exercise

This is an extremely short piece of writing I did for my university class, where we needed to write something as an example of subtext. Here’s the scenario we were given:

  • There are two prisoners
  • Its their final night before being executed
  • They discuss everything but the execution
  • Once we’ve done that, we add a different subtext

I’m not much of a descriptive writer, and I spent way too much time in class looking up the various methods of execution in the United States (hello FBI and ASIO agents watching my every move, I promise I’m just researching) instead of actually doing the writing. Also, I felt the scenario was a bit depressing, so I tried to add a bit of humour to the situation. This is what I came up with in ten minutes:

“Any plans for dinner tonight?”

Jack tilted his head to the side in thought.

“Well it’s a free meal, so I’m thinking a sirloin with red wine jus – medium rare of course – with twice cooked chips and a shit tonne of chicken salt.”

“What the hell are twice cooked chips?” Aster asked.

Jack had been waiting for the question.

“They get fried twice,” he said immediately, his mouth curled on one side as he pressed his lips together.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Jack shook his head, trying not to laugh.

“Nope. Its double fried chips for me.”

Aster snorted and threw his hands in the air.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?”

“Well what do you want for tea then?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Aster thought for a moment.

“Pufferfish.”

“Pufferfish?”

“Yes. Pufferfish.”

“Alright.” Jack felt his lips twitch. “Why?”

“They’re highly toxic,” he paused. “And mishandling one could result in an accidental lethal injection.”

Jack grinned.

“I’d like to handle your accidental lethal injection.”

Aster looked bemused.

“Really now?”

“Well, you only live once.”

Subtext

We’re having a quick look at subtext today.

So according to Merriam-Webster’s Encyclopaedia of Literature (American, I know, but we all work with what we’ve got), subtext is “the implicit or metaphorical meaning” (Merriam-Webster 1995, p. 1078) in a literary text. Basically, it’s an element of the text which may not be explicitly written – instead it’s implied. The surface text (or the obvious meaning of the story) can even “serve as a “disguise” or “mask” of its real meanings” (Abrams 1999, p. 242). This allows the author to inject a sense of mystery, ignorance, or drama into a seemingly banal scene.

Subtext requires the audience to be able to draw inferences based on prior knowledge, an understanding of the characters and their motives, and the setting in which they are placed. It is especially important when a text is set in a time or place we are unfamiliar with.

For example Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, which is set in Regency England during the Napoleonic Wars, takes place in a setting most modern audiences are not intimately familiar with. Some readers may have a passing understanding of the time from history classes, movies, or even Austen’s books, but as we do not live in the same environment (and as standards concerning hair, clothing, manners, and language have changed so much since the 1800s), we do not have an innate understanding of the time and its society. So for example, we might not immediately understand why when Mr Collins is proposing to Elizabeth Bennet and says “almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life” she does not view it as a compliment, but an insult. Mr Collins is effectively telling Elizabeth that she was not his first choice of wife, and that he would have preferred to marry another one of her sisters.

The audience can also find subtext in the tone of a scene, by comparing a character’s actions or words to those of the past, or by the inflection of the dialogue.

In Pride and Prejudice, Austen uses subtext to allow her characters to be maintain social decorum, bridge difficult conversations, and avoid confrontations – all while insulting each other and somehow maintaining plausible deniability. One handy example of this is an exchange between Mr and Mrs Bennet early in the book, when the audience does not yet know much about either of them. The more astute reader (AKA a 14 year old) will have noticed by this point (page five, to be exact) that Mrs Bennet is extremely silly and prone to tantrums. Meanwhile, Mr Bennet is an altogether more serious character, who is slightly exasperated with his wife and prefers to spend his time in the library, rather than with his family. This exchange sums up their relationship quite well (Austen 1813, p. 5):

Mrs Bennet: “Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.”

Mr Bennet: “You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.”

To Mrs Bennet, Mr Bennet is being his usual grumpy self. To a first time reader, he is making a humorous jab at his wife. To someone who has read this book at least twice a year since 2013, Mr Bennet’s tone is much more deadpan and irritated than amused, and he is merely framing an insult as a joke.

Yes, this is my copy, and yes, that is sticky tape. Its been a long six years.

Subtext in a book or movie can even relate to the real world. Famous examples of this include Animal Farm and The Crucible – and I suffered through these books in high school so you don’t have to. The very basic subtext of The Crucible is that it uses one event in history (a fictionalised account of the Salem witch trials) to represent another (the McCarthy Era). Meanwhile, Animal Farm is presented as a fairy tale about a group of farm animals (which is definitely not suitable for children FYI) and is actually an allegory for the violent rise of Communism in Russia.

It is telling of my environment, high school, and government that the first examples I could think of are both famous anti-Communist texts. Fun fact: the movie of Animal Farm (terrifying voices and animation, by the way) was funded by the CIA. Doesn’t that make you feel all warm and cozy about the integrity of art?

It’s disturbing, but seeing the CIA credited in the titles of the movie better helps us to understand the subtext of the story – especially since the Red Scare was a driving force of conflicts in the twentieth century, and nowadays we are much more concerned with a person’s religion than their economic preferences. I can’t say I view that as an improvement.

As always, back to the point: subtext is present in everything we read and everything we watch. This could very easily turn into a conversation about intertextuality, transtextuality, bias, and circumstance, but in trying to steer this post cleanly through that mess, I will end with this: subtext is everywhere. It is in a character’s dialogue and actions, in the setting of the text, and even the tone of the writing. It can relate to the real world, or be confined to that of the story. It is also one of the many reasons textual analysis is so important – it allows us to have a better understanding of the text and the author’s intentions, and in the case of Jane Austen, subsequently learn some very sneaky ways to call our cousin an idiot.

References:

Abrams, MH 1999, A Glossary of Literary Terms, 7th edn, Heinle & Heinle, Boston Massachusetts.

Merriam-Webster, 1995, Merriam-Webster’s Encyclopedia of Literature, Springfield, Massachusetts.

Giphy 2015, Pride and Prejudice Gif, Giphy, viewed 19 August 2019, <https://giphy.com/gifs/pride-and-prejudice-5T52L981XDTq0&gt;.

Narratology and Time

In writing my essay of narratology, I became particularly interested in the use of time as a setting, rather than just a passive entity which allows the story to progress in chronological order from beginning, to the middle, to the end.

We have all seen time manipulated in books and film before – Back to the Future Parts I, II, and III, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and Avengers: Endgame (if you think this is a spoiler, you’ve been living under a rock) are all prominent texts which manipulate time within the story. Here it is not just a story telling device, but a part of the plot.

Harry and Hermione time travel in ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’

We have also all seen movies and read books where time only exists in terms of the chronological movement of the plot. Pride and Prejudice, New Moon, Trickster’s Choice, Lilo and Stitch – all of these texts recognise time only as something to move the story along. Perhaps there is a time skip represented by the changing of seasons, or by Keira Knightley slowly revolving on a swing as she contemplates love, family, and the inevitable screeching of her mother at dinner – but time is not a part of the plot, as it is in Back to the Future, and it is not a complex method of storytelling, as it is in Dunkirk.

Look. A lot of people have analysed time in Dunkirk. I get it. Been there, done that. But I wanted to briefly look at how Christopher Nolan manipulates time in this movie for three reasons: one, I’d get to watch the film again; two, Harry Styles was in a movie with Tom Hardy and, to quote my mother, “yes please“; and three, time is so complicated and such a major force in the telling of the story that it is unlike anything else I’ve ever seen. It is such a huge component in the movie that even the music was created with an auditory illusion to mess with our perception of time. Enter Vox:

Dunkirk’s’ sound illusion by Vox

There are three main plots in Dunkirk: The Mole which centres around the English soldiers attempting to escape from Dunkirk’s beaches; The Air, which follows Tom Hardy and his fellow Spitfire pilots as they attempt to repel the enemy; and The Sea, wherein the sailors of the ‘little boats’ from England travel across the Channel to evacuate their boys. The Mole lasts a week, The Sea lasts a day, and The Air lasts an hour. And the events of all three timelines converge right at the end.

Thanks to the internet for this totally accurate diagram of the timelines in Dunkirk. If my explanation makes no sense, it’s good to know reddit user HavenB3 has my back.

The first time I watched this movie I had no idea it would be such a complicated viewing experience. I’m fairly sure it took me a solid hour to understand that the events unfolding on the screen were being presented to me out of order, and in a form of controlled chaos which really messed up my understanding of the story until I finally had that light bulb moment (full disclosure here, I’m fairly certain that until this point the only other Nolan film I had seen was The Dark Knight, so I wasn’t expecting this level of linear manipulation on a Friday night). I never knew where we would be going next, who I would be afraid for, or whether or not I had already seen the outcome of this scene in the back of a previous shot.

This movie was emotionally exhausting, and Nolan’s decision to disregard the usual, chronological presentation of events was a major contributor to how tight my shoulders were when I finally left the movie theatre.

This entire post is a very long winded way of saying that Nolan’s decision to completely re-write time to serve his own creative purposes was a fantastic narrative technique which contributed greatly to the film’s overall sense of desperation and suspense. The narrative switches between the viewpoints of multiple characters, most of whom are conveying their message to the audience with minimal dialogue and maximum emotion. It is, as Gerard Genette would put it, presented in a mimetic narrative mode, wherein the author is showing and dramatising the narrative rather than putting the focus on the actual telling of the story.

The most dialogue we get comes from Commander Bolton, who is far better known to the audience as Kenneth Branagh since we barely hear his character’s name. The speech in Dunkirk is so limited that after watching the movie for almost two hours, the only characters whose names I knew were Alex and George. Nolan doesn’t need dialogue to set the story up, instead choosing to use four sentences on a title card as the extent of the film’s exposition and expecting the audience to pick up the story from there. Watch this scene – the main character only says one phrase in three minutes. The entire sequence depends on the action and the response of the audience.

Dunkirk’s’ opening scene

Nolan doesn’t need dialogue to explain the plot of his film either, as it is based around action. We are given locations and time stamps, and trusted (perhaps recklessly) to be able to put the rest of the story together by ourselves. It makes the film more interesting to the audience, as they strain to pluck out any information they can rather than having it handed to them on a platter. As I said earlier, this film is more focused on the way the story is told than the story itself.

Yes, the story is important, and this one in particular serves as both a vivid reminder of the past and a warning for the future – but this film is a film because it looks at the way this kind of story is traditionally told and says: “No, thank you”. Instead of being your usual war movie, this film becomes about survival, purely because of the decisions made by Nolan and the direction he gave to the actors, the editors, the sound mixers, Hans Zimmer, and the entire crew. And the absolute manipulation of time in this film enhances the feelings of despair and terror that all of these people have worked so hard to create as we desperately try to figure out whether the little boats will make it to the drowning soldiers in time, or if the RAF will be fast enough to intercept the Luftwaffe before they sink a hospital ship.

Time is the enemy and it’s absolutely petrifying.

References:

AfifZ 7 2018, Dunkirk (2017) – Opening Scene – HD, video, YouTube, viewed 23 August 2019, <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7DHbaY54YQ>.

Barry, P 1995, Beginning Theory: An introduction to literary and cultural theory, 2nd edn, Manchester University Press, Manchester.

HavenB3 2017, [SPOILERS] I made a little Diagram depicting the flow of the film, reddit, viewed 22 August 2019, <https://www.reddit.com/r/Dunkirk/comments/6oqgl5/spoilers_i_made_a_little_diagram_depicting_the/>.

Vox 2017, The sound illusion that makes Dunkirk so intense, video, YouTube, 26 July, viewed 22 August 2019, <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVWTQcZbLgY>.

My Blog

Welcome to my blog!

I figured I should put in an exclamation point in an attempt to give my greeting a more excited and cheerful feel, but now I would just like to inform you that you shall never see it again unless in a quote or to convey extreme sarcasm or irony.

Of a gif. Gifs are valid.

Time to get to The Point.

This blog has been created as a part of a university assignment focused on the writing theory of narratology – which is, in its simplest form, defined as “the study of narrative structures” (Barry 1995, p. 222). Basically, if you’ve ever participated in a year eight English class, you’ve dealt with narratology. If you’ve ever read a fairy tale or seen a Disney movie, you’re probably already familiar with Vladimir Propp’s Functions and Seven Spheres of Action – you just don’t know it.

To study narratology is to consider both the function and the structure of a story, and subsequently ferret out the basic and recurring ‘tropes’ of narratives (thanks so much for forcefully injecting that word into my vocabulary, internet). For example, a family member is absent, and it turns out this is because the villain has involved that family member in their dastardly scheme, egad! Or perhaps the hero receives their quest from an ailing family member and is sent out into the world to save their island, find their confidence, and return the Heart of Te Fiti in a stunning victory against human greed and (let’s be honest here) the damage climate change and pollution is doing to Polynesian islands. I may be getting too specific.

Returning once again to The Point, this blog will primarily be looking at the study of narratology, as it is the theory I will be basing my later assignment on. However, this blog will not be used just for the study of this theory – as this is an English blog, I will be using it as a dumping ground for “mini-essays” on theories I am interested in, story and character ideas, scene and text analysis, and pretty much anything else that will help me to write my stories in the next two months.

Now prepare to laugh at me as I use the Harvard Referencing Guide to fully and (hopefully) completely correctly reference a gif in a university assignment.

References:

Barry, P 1995, Beginning Theory: An introduction to literary and cultural theory, 2nd edn, Manchester University Press, Manchester.

Giphy 2015, Brooklyn Nine Nine Hot Damn Gif, Giphy, viewed 13 August 2019, <https://giphy.com/gifs/transparent-hot-damn-VjSKLk6JxBsIw>.

Tenor 2017, Moana Gif, Tenor, viewed 13 August 2019, <https://tenor.com/view/moana-gif-8462496>.