France is far from perfect. But one of the reasons for that is a kind of national reluctance to hurry up. Things are done in good time. In the mean time… people spend time with family, they relax, they eat good food, they sit around with friends. Somehow, they still seem to be enjoying the things that don’t depend on the pursuit of wealth. Therefore, perhaps, work is slightly less crucial.
Rather than resent that half-finished job, that road still closed for repairs or that shop not open on a Monday, perhaps we should take a leaf from their book.
Can you become a rich and famous writer if you’re not much good at writing?
Yes, of course you can – it happens all the time! There are always highly successful popular novelists around who can’t write to save their lives. But they can use plot dynamics.
The dynamics of plotting are the four primary emotional states writers & storytellers of all kinds try to induce. Within these, a whole universe of emotions can be aroused. But first, the writer must be able to induce these four dynamic states:
Expectation means engagement, curiosity, and uncertainty, the driving forces of all narrative. Wanting to know. In a state of expectation we cannot help ourselves from making predictions and hypotheses – imagining the future. What’s going to happen? Why did what just happened happen? Even in a less plot-driven narrative, we have doubts and questions about why the author is telling us this at all. Why is this significant? Why is it interesting?
If we seek to define the term ‘story’, we have to say that it is not just a sequence of events. There has to be something about the sequence of events that makes it worthy of narration. It can’t be ‘The alarm clock woke me up, so I got up and came to work. I worked all day and then I went home, ate, watched TV and went to bed.’ That’s a sequence of events, but it’s not a story. (It’s not even a life!)
To earn the title of ‘story’, a sequence of events must be worth telling, and to be worth telling it must involve a change of state. So if you got fired at work, OK, that’s a story. Or fell in love, even. Or murdered your boss, whatever. But first and foremost the storyteller must commit to the storyworthiness of the story. Its narrativity, to use the jargon.
Even if the story starts in the most mundane possible way, there is a contract that the author must fulfill, an expectation that if I stick with this, I will… be made to laugh / cry / understand / be amazed / amused / horrified.
However, these expectations must not be met too quickly. All linear art – music, narrative – works by arousing and satisfying expectations. Such works exist in time. They have to take time to unfold, and during that time the audience must be in suspense, the experience of an as yet unfulfilled expectation.
The storyteller delays. A storyteller slows down, just when you’re desperate to know. A teacher must be prepared to wait.
A teacher waits… have you ever done that, without telling them what you want, just wait to see what the students will give you? Wait to see how long it takes them to realize that what you want is questions.
Which you should quite probably refuse to answer.
Today, I found out about a movie called “Race to Nowhere” and I watched the trailer that is on the movie’s website. It looks to me as though this movie will illustrate some of the key points that have been discussed on this blog. I watched this trailer at a time when I am madly racing to get lots of things done, but nearly everything I am doing has no depth or will actually achieve anything of meaning. I am also racing my students through a series of unconnected tasks. I am part of the problem…
… but, what are the solutions?
The first half hour or so of the workshop was dedicated solely to relaxing, chatting, trying out wireless connections, getting on to this blog and getting to know the people in the room. This was an experiment with atmosphere, setting a slow and purposeful pace… something that is often completely absent in the schools we work in. Our schools, in general, are frantic, manic places in which every day is crammed full of as much as possible. Yet, all of our mission statements pledge to produce balanced and responsible individuals who will create a better world! My wife’s recent visit to Reggio Emilia has really got me thinking about the atmosphere, environment and aesthetic that we are educating children in. I think the participants at this workshop appreciated starting this way.