Postmodernism's Grand Narrative?

Implicit in the words of Lawrence E. Klein, as written in "Enlightenment as Conversation" (What's Left of Enlightenment?: A Postmodern Question, edited by Keith Michael Baker and Peter Hanns Reill), postmodernism has a grand narrative, albeit one grounded in Modernism (and, if I might add, in all previous grand narratives):

The [Modernist] posture [of the distanced observer seeking mastery over what he sees] is marked by the distance between observer and observed, who are separated by a kind of ontological gap; a hierarchical relation that privileges the political and intellectual authority of the observer; and the disembodied and decontextualized position of the observer, which gives rise to the claim to provide objective knowledge of universal validity. This scientistic posture is the signal comportment of the Enlightenment in postmodernism's grand narrative, as well as the signal legacy of the Enlightenment targeted by the postmodern critique.

Ontological gap? Anyway, this passage seems to say that Postmodernism critiques Enlightenment reason as a kind of scientism. But what is Postmodernism's own grand narrative? It doesn't have one? Hah! Don't make me laugh. I've long thought of its grand narrative as that ramshackle mash-up of all prior grand narratives, thereby telling the biggest grand-damn story of them all.

Who wonders?

I'm planning to work some more on my Benét paper because one of the critics wrote "one wonders what Foucault might have to say in terms of" whatever I might have been saying.

One can always wonder when Foucault enters the scene. What might he have to say?

That expression sounds as though it held some imperative force within it. He just has to say it! Why? Because he can't leave us and the sentence dangling in the air like Foucault's pendulum.

The critic says I seem to be "back somewhere within the realm of the New Critics; since Crowe, Ransom et al., much theoretical work has necessarily happened in order to create an incredulity toward these sorts of grand narratives."

(As an aside, "necessarily" and "in order to" make the imperative reading above less unlikely.)

In other words, I'm not conforming to the narrative of ever-greater critical theoretization! Critical Theory's cultural Marxism melded with postmodernism is the Grand Narrative to end all grand narratives

How apocalyptic . . .

Once Upon a Time . . .

e=mc^?

There was a problem . . .

But the problem was solved: e=mc^2

And they all lived happily ever after . . .

The dark, grim tail . . .

A Tale Dark and Grimm
Image from Amazon

. . . of a dragon appears toward the end of this fantasy story because, well - because there's always a dragon!

"But is the dragon defeated?" you wonder. Perhaps. It is partly de-footed, which entails at least partly de-feeted. And thus at least partly defeated, too.

This story by Adam Gidwitz - or, rather, stories - weaves the tale of Hansel and Gretel into a retelling of several other classic fairy tales previously related individually by the Brothers Grimm, the strands of that weaving supplied by a bold narrator - often, by the way, interrupting the tale - who makes The End segue into a "Once upon a time" beginning. Again and again . . . until the final end.

Initially, I disliked the interruptions, but once the story got started, I came to accept this ironically editorializing voice.

And the narrator must not have been judged improper by most readers, for the book found an audience large enough for Adam Gidwitz to follow up with not just a sequel, but with two more volumes, a trilogy! I thus have two more stories of collected stories to read.

If Gidwitz fans like such intertextual stories as these Grimm ones, they ought also to like my story, The Bottomless Bottle of Beer, though maybe when they get a little older . . .

Bob Dylan as Storyteller

Dylan
Photo by Ken Regan, Fall 1975
Rolling Thunder Revue

The song "Isis," the second track on Dylan's album Desire, was co-written by Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy, as was also the case with "One More Cup of Coffee," a song I recently blogged on. You can listen to the song here, and follow with these lyrics, to which I've added punctuation:

Isis

I married Isis on the fifth day of May,
But I could not hold on to her very long,
So I cut off my hair, and I rode straight away
For the wild unknown country, where I could not go wrong.

I came to a high place of darkness and light.
The dividing line ran through the center of town.
I hitched up my pony to a post on the right,
Went into a laundry to wash my clothes down.

A man in the corner approached me for a match.
I knew right away he was not ordinary.
He said, "Are you looking for something easy to catch?"
I said, "I got no money." He said, "That ain't necessary."

We set out that night for the cold in the North.
I gave him my blanket, and he gave me his word.
I said, "Where are we going?" He said, "We'll be back by the fourth."
I said, "That's the best news that I've ever heard."

I was thinking about turquoise, I was thinking about gold,
I was thinking about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace.
As we rode through the canyons through the devilish cold,
I was thinking about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless.

How she told me that one day we'd meet up again,
And things would be different the next time we wed,
If I only could hang on and just be her friend.
I still can't remember all the best things she said.

We came to the pyramids all embedded in ice.
He said, "There's a body I'm trying to find.
If I carry it out, it'll bring a good price."
It was then that I knew what he had on his mind.

The wind, it was howling, and the snow was outrageous.
We chopped through the night, and we chopped through the dawn.
When he died, I was hoping that it wasn't contagious,
But I made up my mind that I had to go on.

I broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty.
There was no jewels, no nothing - I felt I'd been had.
When I saw that my partner was just being friendly,
When I took up his offer, I must've been mad.

I picked up his body, and I dragged him inside,
Threw him down in the hole, and I put back the cover.
I said a quick prayer, and I felt satisfied,
Then I rode back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.

She was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise,
Blinded by sleep and in need of a bed.
I came in from the East with the sun in my eyes.
I cursed her one time, then I rode on ahead.

She said, "Where ya been?" I said, "No place special."
She said, "You look different." I said, "Well, I guess."
She said, "You been gone." I said, "That's only natural."
She said, "You gonna stay?" I said, "If you want me to, yes."

Isis, oh Isis, you mystical child,
What drives me to you is what drives me insane.
I still can remember the way that you smiled,
On the fifth day of May in the drizzling rain.

There it is, the entire song, a great story sung by a great storyteller! But why do I call this song a story? Because things happen in a sequence that fulfills our expectations, expectations set up with the first line: "I married Isis on the fifth day of May." You see? Something happened. We hear the line and wonder, "What's next?" Dylan tells us: "But I could not hold on to her very long." What happened then. Dylan continues to tell us . . .

Very different than "One More Cup of Coffee," which offers a portrait of a lady: "Your breath is sweet / Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky / Your back is straight your hair is smooth / On the pillow where you lie." Nothing's happening in this scene. Nothing much happens in the entire song. In that song, we're between stories, maybe, but we'll never know what those stories are.

Not that there's anything wrong with that . . .

Pixar's 22 Rules to Storytelling?!

Pixar's 22 Rules on Slides
Posted by Gavin McMahon

Slide Share

And there you were thinking there were only five rules! These 22 aren't your easy rule-of-thumb rules, either. Let's take a look at these 22 rules for storytelling, which I'm borrowing from Cyriaque Lamar at io9:

#1: You admire a character for trying more than for their successes.

#2: You gotta keep in mind what's interesting to you as an audience, not what's fun to do as a writer. They can be very different.

#3: Trying for theme is important, but you won't see what the story is actually about till you're at the end of it. Now rewrite.

#4: Once upon a time there was ___. Every day, ___. One day ___. Because of that, ___. Because of that, ___. Until finally ___.

#5: Simplify. Focus. Combine characters. Hop over detours. You'll feel like you're losing valuable stuff but it sets you free.

#6: What is your character good at, comfortable with? Throw the polar opposite at them. Challenge them. How do they deal?

#7: Come up with your ending before you figure out your middle. Seriously. Endings are hard, get yours working up front.

#8: Finish your story, let go even if it's not perfect. In an ideal world you have both, but move on. Do better next time.

#9: When you're stuck, make a list of what WOULDN'T happen next. Lots of times the material to get you unstuck will show up.

#10: Pull apart the stories you like. What you like in them is a part of you; you've got to recognize it before you can use it.

#11: Putting it on paper lets you start fixing it. If it stays in your head, a perfect idea, you'll never share it with anyone.

#12: Discount the 1st thing that comes to mind. And the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th – get the obvious out of the way. Surprise yourself.

#13: Give your characters opinions. Passive/malleable might seem likable to you as you write, but it's poison to the audience.

#14: Why must you tell THIS story? What's the belief burning within you that your story feeds off of? That's the heart of it.

#15: If you were your character, in this situation, how would you feel? Honesty lends credibility to unbelievable situations.

#16: What are the stakes? Give us reason to root for the character. What happens if they don't succeed? Stack the odds against.

#17: No work is ever wasted. If it's not working, let go and move on - it'll come back around to be useful later.

#18: You have to know yourself: the difference between doing your best and fussing. Story is testing, not refining.

#19: Coincidences to get characters into trouble are great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating.

#20: Exercise: take the building blocks of a movie you dislike. How d'you rearrange them into what you DO like?

#21: You gotta identify with your situation/characters, can't just write 'cool'. What would make YOU act that way?

#22: What's the essence of your story? Most economical telling of it? If you know that, you can build out from there.

These must be good advice because everybody says so! Apparently, these 22 were first formulated in a series of tweets on Twitter by Emma Coates, former story artist at Pixar. Someone then made this enticing image:

Click the image to expand. Courtesy of The Masters Review Blog. I think these 22 aren't so much rules as pieces of seasoned advice, words of wisdom derived from years of working on stories.

Andrew Stanton - "Five Rules of Storytelling"

"Five Rules of Storytelling"
Click Image to Enlarge
Andrew Stanton

Andrew Stanton, a voice actor, screenwriter, film director, and producer at Pixar Animation Studios, has formulated five rules of storytelling, and these rules - according to the site Educational Technology and Mobile Learning - were taken by Karin Hueck and Rafael Quick (Brazilian culture and science magazine Superinteressante) and turned into the above visual for Stanton's TED Talk.

Here are the five rules, boiled down to a few words:

1. Make me care (i.e., about the protagonist).

2. Take me with you (i.e., with the protagonist).

3. Be intentional (i.e., about the protagonist's motives).

4. Let me like you (i.e., about the protagonist's likeability).

5. Delight me (i.e., about the audience's joy at the protagonist's success).

Obviously, these five rules are for stories with happy endings. Subverting one or several - as the diabolical Carter Kaplan suggested concerning Sean D'Souza's merely three rules of storytelling - makes for fun of the sort enjoyed by academics and literary critics!

Narrative - Technical Definition Offered by Paul McKean

Paul McKean

Google Images

I turn today to Paul McKean's technical piece on "Narrative" (Concepts in Communication Study, August 2012), which is interesting for me if not for others:

Definition and Etymology

The word narrative is likely derived from the Latin words narrāre, meaning to relate or recount, and narrātiō, which refers to a story, a tale, or a section of a speech establishing the facts of a case (Oxford English Dictionary, 2012, n.p.). According to the Oxford English Dictionary (2012), one of the oldest uses of narrative was in a legal context, meaning "A part of a legal document which contains a statement of alleged or relevant facts closely connected with the matter or purpose of the document" (n.p.).

In some contexts such as the study of literature and literary criticism, narrative has been defined narrowly as a series of events or facts within a story. For example, Jahn (2005) defines narrative as "a form of communication which presents a sequence of events caused and experienced by characters" (n.p.). This usage can be traced back in English to the late sixteenth century (Oxford English Dictionary, 2012, n.p.).

Narrative has been studied in such fields as: rhetoric, literary theory, philosophy, history (see for example: White, 1980), psychology, political communication, journalism, studies of folklore, persuasion theory, and media studies.

Bibliography

Jahn, M. (2005). Narratology: a guide to the theory of narrative. English Department, University of Cologne. Retrieved from http://www.uni-koeln.de/~ame02/pppn.htm

Narration. (n.d.) In Oxford English Dictionary online. Retrieved from http://dictionary.oed.com

Narrative. (n.d.) In Oxford English Dictionary online. Retrieved from http://dictionary.oed.com

White, H. (1980). The value of narrativity in the representation of reality. Critical Inquiry. 7(1), 5-27.

There's more at the site if any reader should happen to have an interest. The article is not especially long. My interest lies in these words:

"In some contexts such as the study of literature and literary criticism, narrative has been defined narrowly as a series of events or facts within a story."

One can't get a much more concise definition than that, other than by pruning that long introductory expression:

"narrative has been defined narrowly as a series of events or facts within a story."

Actually, I believe I can prune some more:

"narrative has been defined as a series of events or facts within a story."

Even shorter:

"narrative, a series of events or facts within a story."

Another cut:

"narrative, a series of events within a story."

One more time:

"narrative, a series of events in a story."

Or even:

"narrative, a story's series of events."

I believe I've pruned this far enough . . .

Sean D'Souza on Storytelling: Three Core Elements

Cinderella's Slipper

In "The 3 Core Elements of Good Storytelling," Sean D'Souza offers good advice to novice writers. He begins with the basics of storytelling:

If we examine the Cinderella story closely we see three basic elements:

- The sequence

- The suspense

-The roller coaster

I argue that these same elements exist in every great story

Whether or not that's the case, I think that D'Souza is generally right, as we see:

Let's take a look at each of these three elements in the Cinderella story, and see how you can use them to your advantage:

1. The sequence:

We have the daughter who's mistreated and made to do menial work in the kitchen.

Then there're the other daughters romping about, having a great old time, doing what spoiled daughters do. These ladies fancy their romantic and social climbing chances with the prince.

But things don't go their way, and in turn, Cindy manages to get a fairy godmother. And blah, blah, blah.

There's a sequence of events building into each other here. But a good story must have some drama, some suspense.

2. The suspense:

Cinderella's mother dies and she's doomed to sleeping near the fireplace (which is how she gets the name, Cinderella).

But the fairy godmother appears from the blue - and suspense builds, because now Cinderella has a chance like everyone else. Will she make it? Won't she?

She does. And then, just as Cindy's hitting it off with the Prince, the clock goes nuts and her life is miserable once more.

What on earth is happening? What's with this girl? Is she just going to be a loser? Yup, that's all suspense.

3. The roller coaster

Good times, then bad. Then good, then bad.

Your story doesn't have to swing wildly, but it helps to have contrast, because contrast changes the pace of the story.

So, just as things are really yucky, along comes the knight in shining armour.

Or, just as things are looking great, an avian flu threatens to kill the entire population.

Cinderella's fortunes seem to bounce up and down, which keeps the interest in the story.

D'Souza now asks you to check your story (apparently, you've written one):

Every piece of story content you write must have a clear sequence, because without sequence a story has no meaning.

But what about suspense? You have to insert a certain amount of suspense. It's always there in your story, but when you insert a 'what the heck is happening' factor, you instantly build suspense.

And finally there's the roller coaster. If your story has been coasting with the fairies for a while, then it's time to bring out the ogres - and vice versa.

I think D'Souza's offered some good advice on basic storytelling. Recounting a tale takes more than a mere sequence of events. The reader needs to be held in suspense. And as I think about this, I see that the roller coaster element itself builds suspense, even bringing the suspense to a climax.

Angela Carter on 'Narrative'?

Angela Carter
Wikipedia

The writer Angela Carter (1940-1992) thought fairy tales important in her identity and development as a writer of fiction, as Michael Schmidt informs us, basing his information on a remembrance by A. S. Byatt:

Carter talked about the centrality of fairy tales to her writing. Indeed, "she had realized that she was a writer because of fairy tales, because she was hooked on narrative as a child, not by realist novels about social behavior or how to be a good girl, but by these very primitive stories that go I think a lot deeper." (Michael Schmidt, The Novel: A Biography, 905)

The writer intervenes in the reader's memory as well, recasting stories, the fairy stories that shape our sense of narrative and of the potential roles of the heroes and villains that conventionally inhabit them. (Michael Schmidt, The Novel: A Biography, 905-906)

Note the importance of narrative. But what is narrative? What did Carter mean by the term? Does Byatt's full remembrance offer more? Let's look at Schmidt's source, Philip Hensher's interview of Byatt for The Paris Review, "A. S. Byatt, The Art of Fiction No. 168" (Fall 2001):

I remember my first meeting with Angela Carter, with whom I became great friends later. We all went to hear Stevie Smith reading her poetry - lots of writers around her, rather like a bullring - and she stood in the middle and read. On the way out this very disagreeable woman stomped up to me, and she said, My name's Angela Carter. I recognized you and I wanted to stop and tell you that the sort of thing you're doing is no good at all, no good at all. There's nothing in it - that's not where literature is going. That sort of thing. And off she stomped. Then about five years ago she said that she had realized that she was a writer because of fairy tales, because she was hooked on narrative as a child, not by realist novels about social behavior or how to be a good girl, but by these very primitive stories that go I think a lot deeper. It wasn't until she said it that I felt empowered, which is why I have to acknowledge that she said it. As a little girl, I didn't like stories about little girls. I liked stories about dragons and beasts and princes and princesses and fear and terror and the four musketeers and almost anything other than nice little girls making moral decisions about whether to tell the teacher about what the other little girl did or did not do. My poor grandchildren live in a world where children's books are about how awful it is to live in horrible blocks of flats in deprived areas of cities, which they ought to know, but you can understand entirely why everybody fell upon Harry Potter, which is more grown-up also.

Is "narrative" what we're talking about here, or fantasy? But enough inquiry for today . . .