rare. The use of the second person in story-telling is exceedingly It is sometimes found in short stories, Telling a story usually of child life. It produces a peculiarly in the second vivid, intimate, reminiscent atmosphere. person Telling a story in the third On the whole the use of the third person seems most desirable for a long story. It enables the author to be omniscient, to see and to hear everything, to be sympathetic with all his characters, to portray their psychology more directly for us, and to insert his own comment if need be. told from this point of view. person Most stories are THE BEGINNING The beginning of a story is important because it must at once make clear the situation and the characters, explain all that the reader needs to know about what Requirements has taken place before the story begins, and of the beginarouse immediate interest. To accomplish ning all this is no light task. There are various methods of beginning a story, any one of which is successful if it accomplishes these things. All that has happened before the story begins is called the antecedent action. Sometimes it is necessary to explain the antecedent action in some detail; in this The antecedent case it is as well to do it at once, even at the action risk of detracting from the interest. Some authors reveal the antecedent action gradually; in a mystery story or a story of characters influenced by past events, this may well be done. In The House of the Seven Gables, Hawthorne explains the antecedent action immediately, but in so doing contrives to throw an air of mystery over the chapter that creates suspense at once and makes the reader anxious to go on. In The Rise of Silas Lapham, Howells makes Silas explain the antecedent action in an interview, and at the same time reveal his own character. The first chapter There are various ways of plunging into the first chapter. Authors of modern novels often place their characters at once in an interesting situation and begin with conversation. This is a good method if the conversation is clear and interesting and we are able to identify the speakers without difficulty. Sir Walter Scott usually chooses a romantic setting for his beginnings-the dark forest with the onrushing storm in Ivanhoe; the old Elizabethan inn, so full of possibilities, in Kenilworth; but he spends so much time in getting his narrative under way that young readers sometimes find his beginnings tiresome. Some authors, then, begin with description, a good plan if the setting is to play an important part in the story-provided that the description is not too long. Others begin with the opening situation in good brisk narrative and lose no time in getting their story under way. Stevenson is an adept at this sort of beginning, as Treasure Island and Kidnapped demonstrate. Still others begin with the attention focussed on the principal characters, which is a good method if the characters are to be few and the interest in them intense, as in The Scarlet Letter. One cannot, therefore, lay down rules for beginning a story, but it is always interesting to see how an author uses means to an end at the very start of his story. METHOD OF NARRATION There are a good many ways of telling a story, just as there are many ways of beginning, but no one method is necessarily the best one. Some of the earliest novels in English, for instance Richardson's Pamela and Fanny Burney's Evelina, are told by means Narration by letters of letters exchanged between the characters. This method, however, does not usually make for artistic unity; moreover it demands a constant shift of the reader's point of view. Not many novelists employ it. Thomas Bailey Aldrich's Marjorie Daw uses this method cleverly. Some diffi culties of the chronological handling sub A more common method is the straightforward narrative of events in their chronological order. In a complicated story in which many characters and one or The chronologmore subplots are involved this method is ical method not simple or easily done. Scott uses this method a great deal, but his stories were so complicated that he often had to carry along his different sets of people and episodes in a parallel order. In Ivanhoe for example, we follow Rowena and DeBracy and Cedric up to a certain point; then we leave them and go back to the Templar and Rebecca and Isaac; leaving them, we give our attention to Locksley or to the Black Knight. In this way Scott marshals his characters and events throughout the story until they are all brought together at some exciting crisis, such as the siege of Torquilstone, and then separated again to be brought together once more. method in plots The retrogres sive method combined with the chronological In stories of adventure, especially adventure through a long and perilous journey, such as Quentin Durward and The Cloister and the Hearth, the chronological method is probably the best one possible, but even in these it may be necessary to go back a bit to pick up a few threads or to explain what was happening meanwhile. This going backward is the retrogressive method. In Treasure Island it is used at least once, and in detective stories, in which evidence naturally leads one back to the solution, it is often necessary. It is usually combined with the chronological method. It must be used with care, lest it become confus ing or tiresome. The modern novelist Joseph Conrad makes frequent use of this method. Another method is the relating of more or less detached episodes involving the same characters. Such stories are Detailed episodes often interesting because of certain scenes and situations in them rather than because of the sweep and power of the narrative as a whole. They are thus likely to be episodic and somewhat lacking in artistic unity. In The Cloister and the Hearth, for example, certain scenes are so intensely exciting that they could almost stand by themselves, detached from the rest of the story. Thus, Gerard's encounter with the huge bear whose cub he had killed is often quoted as a separate bit of narrative: “Huge as she was, she seemed to double herself (it was her long hair bristling with rage): she raised her head big as a bull's, her swineshaped jaws opened wide at them, her eyes turned to blood and flame, and she rushed upon them, scattering the leaves about her as she came. 'Shoot!' screamed Denys, but Gerard stood shaking from head to foot, useless." This brief quotation shows how absorbing a story may be in what are, after all, only detailed episodes. No reader is likely to leave Gerard in this predicament; he will read on, not only through this episode but through others more or less unrelated. Each episode holds his interest. For instance, there is the passage where the two companions, trapped in the chamber of the inn, await death at the hands of thieves and cutthroats: "There was another harrowing silence. Then a single light footstep on the stairs; and nothing more. Then a light crept under the door; and nothing more. Presently there was a gentle scratching, not half so loud as a mouse's, and the false doorpost opened by degrees, and left a perpendicular space through which the light streamed in. The candle was held up and shaded from be hind a man's hand. He was inspecting the beds from the threshold, satisfied that his victims were both in bed. The man glided into the apartment." What reader would fail to go on? Best of all, after this episode is safely passed there is a new one with a different interest bearing him along until he turns the seven-hundredth page with a sigh that the tale is ended. Considering its length, The Cloister and the Hearth is a remarkable example of the suspense that may be gained by the detached episode method of narration. The same thing is true of The Three Musketeers. This does not mean that these stories exist regardless of the main thread of the narrative, but that the interest goes from episode to episode instead of moving steadily onward with ever-increasing power. This method, however, combined with the chronological, is the most satisfactory. Two methods less commonly used are that of telling a story wholly by means of dialogue and that of telling it by means of a diary. These methods are usually Dialogue and successful more from cleverness than from eral practicability. The Dolly Dialogues by Anthony Hope illustrate the one method, and Robinson Crusoe the other. gen diary methods A combination of methods-usually of the chronological and the detached episode is most common; but too many combinations in one book are not likely to The end to be be either artistic or practicable. Whatever achieved by all method is employed should give an onward sweep to the narrative so that the interest increases steadily. A plot is made up of incidents and episodes. An incident is something that happens; an episode is a group of related incidents. In Silas Marner the staking of Incidents and Wildfire is a single incident; all the incidents episodes connected with the selling and killing of Wildfire and the consequences thereof to Silas Marner form an episode, which |