In the 1984 movie Amadeus, the emperor Franz Joseph talks to Mozart after the premiere of his first opera in Vienna. After praising the work, he criticizes it for having too many notes. Mozart replies that the work has just as many notes as he requires, neither more nor less. The king repeats his opinion to the composer. Mozart finishes with the question, “Which few did you have in mind, your majesty?”
You can see that scene here.
The movie’s narrator, in the form of a confession to a priest, sees Mozart’s music, and describes it as, “Replace one note, and there would be diminishment. Displace one phrase, and the structure would fall.” Nothing is an accident with Mozart. Everything is intentional and deliberate. You can say the same of any great artistic master. Can you imagine seeing a Rembrandt, and saying, “This needs more blue,” or “less yellow.” What would you think if someone said, “There’s too many leaves on that tree,” or “There’s not enough clouds in the sky,” or some other nonsense like that?
Intentionality in Literature
If this holds true of all art in general, then it also holds true for Creative Writing. Everything we put down on the page is intentional and deliberate. And I mean much more than choosing the right words. Intentionality in Creative Writing mostly has to do with the details that are included. I have in mind both the scene and the story.
What does a room or a house look like? What does a character look like or act like? This is decided by what details you include. You don’t have to include every detail. In fact, you shouldn’t. The fewer details, the better. The less you spell out, the more each reader is free to fill in those details with their own creativity. The more involved they are in a text, the more they commit personally to your story. This is the level of engagement we should crave.
Examples from Literature
So why include any scenic details at all? It’s these details that, when used correctly, contribute to the story. Details that don’t add anything to the story just get in the way. We can use details as symbols or metaphors, for example. In my first novel, ANIMA, I described the road leading up to a certain house. There were lots of details, but each of them were intentional and served some role in telling you about it’s occupant. The grove of pomegranate trees symbolized fertility and the coiled snake represented temptation. The dead ash tree, and medieval Tree of Life, spoke of the lack of spirituality. The large jaybird who bullied and stole from other birds let you know the master of the house was the same.
The Hemingway short story “Hills Like White Elephants” is an excellent example of this practice. First of all, the white hills themself tell you a lot about the story. In centuries past southeast Asia, a king or a noble would give a white elephant as a gift to someone they actually disliked. The gift makes it seem benevolent, but the white elephant is so rare, no one made them do any work. They did nothing but eat (a lot). From that, a white elephant gift is one that does more good for the giver than the receiver. So when the story gets to the generous offer by the man to his girlfriend, we already know something about the offer just from the title and initial setting of the train stop.
The other great metaphoric scene reference is when the woman looks down the track and sees the two different sides of the rail. One side is all brown and dead. The other side is green and growing. First of all, trains are often symbols of transitions, or at least, changes. One side is dead and the other is alive. The man’s offer forces the woman to consider these two options [read it if you have not yet]. These are not useless details. They add layers to the story and help Hemingway tell the story by means other than straight narrative of action.
The next post will describe the details in the story itself.
A WORD FITLY SPOKEN 