Part 3

PLOT. Notice that the development of the struggle lies in the latter half of the story. Define this struggle for yourself. With whom do you immediately take sides? Show how the main line of interest (Onnie’s love for San) combines with the second line of interest (the one growing out of the struggle) to make the complication. Is the entanglement logically effected? Give examples. What is the first preparation for the main incident? (See page 34.) “He put in your new bath-tub and Onnie jumped him for going round the house looking at things.” This statement reveals the _motivation_ for Percival’s dislike of Onnie (whom every one else loved) and rationalizes his insult on page 36; it also explains how the villain knew the arrangement of the rooms.

The first _developed_ incident, leading toward the climax, covers pages 35 and 36, beginning with the approach of Percival and ending with his punishment by Sanford.

Study the introduction of the knife and all references to it. What instruments of death in other stories of these collections have plot value?

The climax of the action is told with fine brevity. Study the dénouement, beginning page 42. “He sat up, tearing the blankets back.” The last paragraph is marked by artistic restraint. Compare it with the end of “The Sacrificial Altar.”

SETTING. How is the Pennsylvania background integrated with character and action to make the story? Over how many years does the entire action extend? By what devices of transition and by what proportion has the author subdued the time element?

ATMOSPHERE. The latter half of the narrative presents contrast to the first half, in spite of the plot clues. What is the value of this contrast in moods? Has the rain a contributory value? Find other instances in these stories of weather conditions emphasizing the impression. Point out all the instances of dramatic forecast, particularly those which serve to unify the earlier and later portions of the narrative (_e.g._, “And anything could happen there,” page 28).

MISS WILLETT

THE STARTING-POINT. Mr. Benefield states that it has been so long since he wrote “Miss Willett” that the processes of growth have gone out of his memory. He is sure, however, that the story had its origin in a show-window exhibit on a street in New York, where a negro woman of a most evil expression used to demonstrate a folding bed. “I probably noted the exhibit in a book, left it for weeks or months and then one day when I needed an idea I opened the note-book, turned over the pages, stared at the scribbled note, and the elements of the story as written floated to the center of consciousness and joined in a more or less rough but complete whole. After that it was merely a matter of chiseling it into shape.”--_Barry Benefield._

The expression “floated to the center of consciousness” seems to imply an inspirational writing force, much as does Mrs. Pulver’s statement, “My crew will come to me ready named, ready behavioured” (see page 169).

The striking relation between Mr. Benefield’s original idea and his subsequently developed story is one of contrast. It is noteworthy that _character_ dominates in each; incident is subordinate.

THE DEVELOPMENT. The principle of suggestion, by which this author has conveyed more than he could express, works powerfully. Observe the first effect created by the face of the sculptured Christ. “She noticed that the long white dress of the infant,” etc. (page 40). What are succeeding effects?

THE ACTION. Miss Willett’s fortunes are in the descendant at the beginning of the story. Where do they take a turn? Is this dramatic climax motivated by the influence of the face? (“Yesterday you had nothin’; to-day you got everything.” This speech clinches, for the reader who prefers the mystical interpretation, the influence of the sculptured Jesus. To the non-mystical reader, this logic alone is satisfactory: loss of job had meant an unconscious spur, the spur of desperation, with unanticipated success.) What is the sequel to the day’s success which marks Miss Willett’s continued interest in the face behind the green-slatted window? State in order the steps leading to the discovery. What is the climax of action? Does it constitute a surprise for the reader as for Miss Willett? What is the dénouement? With the dénouement, dawns the realization of what underlying theme?

THE MAIN CHARACTER. According to the mystical interpretation the chief character is the sculptured figure. Otherwise, Miss Willett is the principal. According to the two interpretations, the two become active and passive, reciprocally.

What is the fundamental impression you receive of Miss Willett’s physical person? What, to a writer, is the advantage in choosing a very large or very small person as a main character? Recall classic examples. Note all references to Miss Willett’s big blondeness, and study the economy with which she is kept before the reader.

DETAILS. Where is the gray kitten first mentioned? What is the value, to the plot, of this introduction?

Glance over the narrative for words of color, light, and sound. Which are predominant? The effect on the story and on its verisimilitude? Color-value of the red geranium with its single flower? Value for effect of reality?

Study the easy manner in which the setting is given to the reader.

SUPERS

CLASSIFICATION. A single scene sketch; it is like a charcoal drawing.

PLOT. The plot, concealed beneath the picture, lies in the objectifying of the eternal struggle for bread and meat.

SETTING. The place is the street near the theatre door: like a magnet it draws the individual human beings, who cohere in the mass until the attracting power is removed.

CHARACTERS. This mass, or aggregate, emphasizes the individual struggle, at the same time it engulfs individual personality. What does the name “Supers” indicate, literally? Figuratively? What part does Red Beard play? How does he, too, contribute to the larger unity at the same time he offers a note of contrast?

ATMOSPHERE. Sordid, drab realism, uncompromising in its ugliness.

BUSTER

OPENING INCIDENT. Emphasis falls at once on the society which the hero disconcerts. The correctness of living, the tranquil setting, provide the formal serenity he is to break. “Lucien forgot himself completely,” note the effect of the impeccable chauffeur’s exclamation as testimony to the “demon boy.” The reader, startled with the characters into attention, catches the epithet up with interest and expectation.

Are the recounted escapades and the antecedent scene necessary? or, in the wealth of instance which follows, does the recountal seem extensive? Is the relaxation so effected pleasant? Does the rehearsal of the antecedent episode slow the tempo and hold the story back unnecessarily? Besides revealing Buster, the material permits the cousin’s mental distress to accumulate in effect and allows time for the race to and from Boston.

Within the economy of the first picture, Buster’s manner, the striking factor of his aspect, and his adolescent growth are suggested. Notice that the following scene enlarges the same points. Notice that in this scene and the others between Buster and his aunts, Buster does the talking. The aunts interpose, occasionally, protest and reasoning. Do the scenes lack excitement other than Buster’s excitement? There is not the vigorous clash of speech with speech; for that, the characters are too well mannered. If the struggle wants intensity, is there compensation in the naturalness of the futile boyish tirading? Buster seems to fume?

The trouble at the bakery serves to remind the reader that Buster, in the apparent lull, is intent on his own purposes. It serves, also, to divert the reader’s mind from the preparation for the aeroplane incident.

The Bazaar at Dawn Towers: The personnel for this scene is usual; there are the usual élite and the climber from the West. (Notice the social status of Oklahoma and Montana!) The futurist palace is a relieving detail.

The incident caps the social crimes of Buster; it provides the climax for part one of the story, playing off the vitality of the boy’s contention against the vanities and half-sincerity of his Aunt’s set. Like Buster’s passionate repetition, “I’ve got to know,” it is dramatic forecast. Here is the significance of the story: youth struggling with convention for its destiny.

The latter half of the story is fulfilment and realization.

Does the timing of this part--“and yesterday at dusk”--injure the dramatic reality? The writer suggests this is an account, a diary, a rehearsal.

EPISODIC PLOT. The incidents of the plot do not progress logically, as steps in action having a consequential relation. But they are instances making the same character point, having this unity. In the important scenes the events are held in combination further by their centralization about three characters: Dr. Lake, Miss Edith, and Buster stand out at beginning, climax and end.

Account for the animosity against Dr. Lake in the boy’s tone and the story tone. Does the writer in her characterization of him caricature the doctor? (the emphasis on his eminence and his shirt-front in the opening scenes, on his fright in the climax scene). Contrast his appearance in the two parts of the story; his self-importance in the earlier scenes with his eventual sacrifice. The traditions reveal in the crisis their underlying sanction. Does his geniality in the final scene convince?

Cousin Edith, if typical, is set apart from her environment by a quality of humor and by her angle--as sympathetic observer of Buster. Observe that Buster feels the difference in her character. Is there a note of affectation in her manner? Notice that, though she is influenced by the aviator’s tirade, she is sufficiently herself to remark his manners. Does Buster work in her the magic of complete conviction? Is her wordy “gush” when she first sees the unconscious boy natural in tone and sentiment? She sees, remember, the “death-like” face, at the sight of which “the limp, shivering doctor pulled himself together with all his weary might.” Her words “baby” the hero--does one “tuck” a brawny fist under his cheek?

Buster is pictured most completely in his unconsciousness. Do the stubborn chin there and the sulky under-lip of the first scenes indicate an unpleasant willfulness? Offset this impression by details in the summary of his escapades which suggest a sympathetic kindness. Does he show in the struggle with his Aunts a personal animosity? Is the democracy revealed in the sailor episode typical of his age? Compare Aunt Charlotte’s speech for German methods with the Brigadier General’s on the making of the hero. Do the aviator and the ambulance-driver in their recognition of him reinforce qualities in Buster which are representative?

“Concerning ‘Buster,’ he isn’t the portrait of any real flesh-and-blood boy. But he tries to be the composite portrait of the fourteen-year-olds that we all know, and most of us own by ties of blood,--the tempestuous darling, the pride and the despair of us. As for the story itself, it is a well-meant but probably futile attempt to convince the Average Parent,--to say nothing of the average Aunt Charlotte and Cousin Edith,--that the abysmal differences between the Busters of to-day and their own generation are not so many conclusive proofs that Buster and his tribe are essentially inferior. On the contrary! For to my eyes, the rising generation is a rising one, with a vengeance, and o’ertops its predecessors with a disconcerting splendor. So the story tries to make this conviction clear,--and very likely fails. For one of my nearest and dearest was grieving only the other day, because her own particular Buster insists that his life’s ambition is to be a fire chief. ‘When we want him to be a corporation lawyer, like his father!’... As to definitions--could there be a compact definition of the short-story? I doubt it. It’s a universal experience, put into a duodecimo edition, but it’s a thousand other things, besides.

“Some day, some one with authority will answer, I hope, this question: Should the short-story writer be a writer of short-stories and nothing more? Or--should he write stories when and where he can, in the intervals of other, far more absorbing, tasks?”--_Katharine Holland Brown._

FOG

GENERAL. The first sentence in “Fog” serves two purposes. 1. It thrusts satirically at the commercializing of the short story. 2. It induces the reader to believe the inner narrative is a growth, not a construction. The author seems to have hesitated between leaving the supernatural story as one beautiful enough to stand alone, and building about it the humorous and even cynical external action. Or it may be that he saw best to set off the fragile inner narrative with the hard facts of a workaday world. Without the prelude to the story (which begins with “He was born a thousand miles from deep water”) and without the sentences after the asterisks on page 73, the narrative recalls “The Brushwood Boy.” And this is true, despite the rather homely dialect. If, however, the reader is duly influenced by the parts referred to, he cannot but recall Thomas Bailey Aldrich’s “Struggle for Life,” as a prototype.

PLOT.

_Initial Stages_: Andy pins up the ship; his father blots it out; Andy is delirious; acquires name of Wessel’s Andy.

_Steps toward the Dramatic Climax_: Andy drifts east; seeing a model of the _Lucky Star_ in Stiles’s place, he asks for a job; he gets it. He reveals that he has had “a ship behind his eyes,”--a schooner like the _Lucky Star_, and his knowledge that he belongs on board. This knowledge is attended by a fear: he does not know the cause for which he must go. He indicates that something holds him back from the sea, but refuses to disclose it. The immediate approach to the dramatic climax is made in the story told, to the fisherman from Gloucester, by old Jem Haskins. Andy learns the facts about Dan and Hope Salisbury. Later, he asks whether there is a picture of Hope in the village.

_Dramatic Climax_: Andy steals into Ed Salisbury’s house and finds Hope’s picture.

_Steps toward the Climax of Action_: Andy is happy now (he knows why he must go aboard the _Lucky Star_). He reveals the other vision which has been, always, back of his eyes. Hope Salisbury has the face of that vision. It is clear to him, now, that in going aboard the vessel he will meet Hope. He knows that the time is near. Immediately before the climax of action, Stiles walks down the beach. He sees a mist, blotting the blue water as it comes. Turning homeward, he sees Andy, on the edge of the beach, staring into the fog.

_Climax of Action_: As the surf closes over Andy, Stiles gathers himself to jump. Then he sees the _Lucky Star_, and Hope. Andy goes aboard....

Is the “inevitable” quality of the narrative increased by making Andy “a queer one”? See Georgie, by way of contrast, in “The Brushwood Boy.”

Where does suspense first operate? Where do you suspect, first, that Hope is meant to be Andy’s bride?

Observe that Andy’s last act might have been that of a deluded brain, and that Stiles’s vision of the _Lucky Star_ might have been one of hallucination. The more imaginative reader will regard the ghost-ship as objective, and will “believe” in the delayed union of Hope and Andrew.

Read Richard Middleton’s “The Ghost Ship,” for a frankly humorous treatment of theme. What other stories in Mr. O’Brien’s collections have an element of the supernatural?

Try presenting this story in pure English, from the author’s point of view. Use the objective method, abstaining from entrance into the mind of any character. Take up the narrative at the point of Andrew’s arrival at Stiles’s, and let his “queerness” emerge through his acts and speeches.

How much creative work must you accomplish to make a consistent character of Stiles? (Here, Stiles, the narrator, must be studied through the story he presents. In the dramatic presentation of the story, he will become more objective.)

THE WATER-HOLE

GENERAL METHOD. The immediate story of the water-hole is unfolded by the “rehearsed” method. What gain results from telling in a city restaurant an experience of the wilderness? Study the easy and natural way in which Hardy’s story is brought forward. “You’ve got a concrete instance back of that” (page 18) signifies that the narrator will cite a case to prove his point. Recall other stories told for similar purposes; _e.g._, O. Henry’s “The Theory and the Hound.”

Study the value of the two “I” narrators in the same story, with respect to increasing verisimilitude and making the reader “believe.” Kipling’s “The Courting of Dinah Shadd,” for example, uses the same tactics.

Try re-telling the story by the dramatic method. Omit the enveloping city setting; transfer Hardy from the first to the third person, and keep the “spotlight” on him. Begin with the arrival of Hardy at the home of the Whitneys, and follow the course of events to their dénouement. What do you lose in richness and effectiveness? Do you gain anything in vividness or directness?

PLOT. Having studied preceding plot analyses, the student will find small difficulty in settling upon the main struggle in the action, the complicating line of interest, and the climactic incident. The surprise ending, however, calls for comment, in that to achieve it the author used a natural and yet somewhat novel device. Hardy has been speaking of himself, of course, in the first person. When, therefore, he refers to the love that “one of the young engineers” had for Mrs. Whitney we do not suppose that he and the engineer were identical. Hence, we receive the shock in the final paragraph: “On the brown flesh of his forearm, I saw a queer, ragged white cross--the scar a snake bite leaves when it is cicatrized.” On reflection, one recognizes that Whitney’s slight deception arose from motives of delicacy, and is more than justifiable--it pleases, in that it refines Hardy’s character. Deception as a means, in general, to create surprise is common (See “The Mastery of Surprise,” _Bookman_, October, 1917); but it is given here a particularly excellent turn.

Observe, also, that the plot presents a variation of the familiar “triangle.” The love story, however, is buried beneath the greater theme; and therefore, although it terminates in a lack of so-called poetic justice, yet its combination with the main line of interest gives utmost satisfaction.

CHARACTERS. Mr. Burt has employed a favorite artistic aid, contrast, in depicting Hardy and Whitney. Does Hardy seem anywhere too modest or too egotistic for the first person narrator? What value have the friends who hear Hardy’s story in the full development of Hardy as a character?

A CUP OF TEA

SETTING. Note the setting of this and “The Water-Hole,” “The Knight’s Move,” “The Weaver Who Clad the Summer,” “A Certain Rich Man.” In which of them is the outer setting a place for the rehearsal of the story which follows? In which is the setting that of the immediate story-action? What is the general value of a table scene to the writer who wishes to present his story in the “rehearsed” manner? How does a camp-fire compare with it? (Read, for example, Kipling’s “The Courting of Dinah Shadd.”)

INTRODUCTION, WITH EMPHASIS ON CHARACTERS. Why is so long an introductory paragraph given to Burnaby?

Study the comment on guests and hostess, and observe that the English financier must have an important part in the ensuing action. “Sir John had inherited an imagination.” Is this stated characteristic proved by subsequent disclosures?

How is Burnaby’s entrance emphasized?

“She was interested by now” (page 48), an old device and an excellent one for catching the reader’s attention. The logic is this: “If that fascinating lady is interested, there must be a reason.” Sir Conan Doyle employs it often in the Sherlock Holmes stories, when Sherlock asks for a repetition of a situation supposedly just presented. It is thus put before the reader who assumes that it must be worth hearing once, if Sherlock will hear it twice.

What reason exists for Burnaby’s story as a predecessor to Sir John’s? Does it motivate the telling of Sir John’s? If so, does it also prejudice the reader in favor of one or the other men? Does it incite curiosity as to the squawman with a promise that curiosity will be satisfied? Suppose that some other cause produced Sir John’s story and the reader were left to surmise what became of Bewsher. Would sympathy be with Bewsher in an increased or diminished degree?

Why is Burnaby’s story briefer than Sir John’s? Would it be possible to reverse the comparative lengths with a new story-value? Try telling Bewsher’s story as he might tell it to Burnaby at the time of the tea incident.

How is point given to the squaw man’s name? What is the significance of the broken champagne glass? Have literary artists often fallen back on a broken glass by way of expressing emotion? Is it true to real life? Does it _seem_ true in fiction?

Is there sufficient suggestion that Bewsher’s story is connected with that of Masters to justify initial interest in Sir John’s narrative? (See the dénouement of Burnaby’s.)

Where did you receive a hint that Masters is identifying himself with Morton?

THE HEART OF THE WHOLE STORY: MASTERS’ STORY. Notice that Mr. Burt recognizes, as all artists do, the various climaxes of the narrative. This is indicated in what Sir John calls “high lights.”

_The Initial Impulse_ (_The “first high light”_): Morton’s plan to cultivate the friendship of Bewsher.

_Steps toward Dramatic Climax_: The importance of himself comes home to Morton (“The second high light”). “The third did not come until fifteen years later” (Bewsher has been in India; Morton, in a Banking House in London): Morton desires a wife, luxury, and social standing. Bewsher turns up; he and Morton fall in love with the same girl. Bewsher leads, but he needs money. The “third high light,” then, after fifteen years, is Bewsher’s supplication. Morton makes him a rich man, but does not promise to keep him so.

_Dramatic Climax_: Bewsher forges a check, and hands it to Morton in part payment of his indebtedness. Morton subsequently shows the check to the girl and then burns it before her eyes. He thus wins her, not aware that her heart is broken. Bewsher disappears.

_Climax of Action_: “The fourth high light” Morton marries the girl.

_Dénouement_: He suffers the realization that he can never be a gentleman; he has learned that the girl does not love him.

What statement of Sir John indicates a recognition of the turning point in the rivalry between him and Bewsher? Show that this outer or external dramatic climax is the counterpart of the “third high light.”

_Dénouement of the Enveloping Narrative_: After Sir John and his wife motor away, Burnaby explains the relations between the real and the fictive characters. What is the significance of his appellation, “timber-wolf”?

What is the office of Mrs. Malcolm’s closing remark?

“We are told that all writing is a process of elision, but no one seems to go further and say that short-story writing is the process of ‘hitting the high spots’ plus the art of making the intervals between the ‘high spots’ not only interesting but of such a quality that the ‘high spots’ do not seem strained and unnatural. I find that this is mostly done by the turn of a sentence, or by an apparently adventitious aphorism, or a paragraph of general comment.