Janine sends Camille: Question: “How to develop structure beyond the chronological?” http://tinyurl.com/33h2by

Mary Ann - 24 November 2007 02:50 PM

“How to develop structure beyond the chronological?”

Folks:

To continue the discussion of structure. Janine’s question, above, is provocative. Here are some thoughts on what happens, structurally, in Camille:

The uber-structure is, in fact, simple chronology:

1.) Ariana is born with a serious birth defect.
2.) Ariana goes to live with Camille.
3.) Ariana struggles in her short life, along with the other kids Camille takes in.
4.) Ariana suffers a (not unexpected) health crisis, and succumbs.

But within that uber-structure, there’s a lot going on.

Section I (sections separated by drop space or ***), gives the background narrative of Ariana’s medical condition. The section ends with the powerful and provocative punchline “In late December, after a brief phone call, the 57-year-old went to Wal-Mart and bought baby clothes, bottles, formula, and diapers for her 59th child.”

Compare the role that punchline plays in the story with the punchline at the end of the first section of Cheerleader ("She needed it for evidence.")

In both cases, the punchline serves as a springboard to the larger drama of the story—i.e., Camille spends her life caring for dying children, and (in Cheerleader), the mother is about to wage a legal battle in the name of her cheerleading son.

The next section of Camille, if you think of the classic Who-What-When-Where-How-Why grid of information building, is the WHAT section. What Camille does with her children.

The next section is the WHO: A mini-profile of WHO Camille is (she stoops, she is overweight, etc. etc.)

The following section is the WHERE, where it all takes place—Camille’s house, the people in it in their various conditions and rooms and corners.

Next section is the WHY: Why does she do this work? She had trouble having kids of her own, wanted to do something for others to fill the void, etc.

Important:  Each of these sections serves as an information-building unit to complete the picture of Camille’s world (and the work she does).  At the same time, the narrative chronology of Ariana’s plight is woven in and around throughout, in some places more present than others, in a few places, hardly a whisper. But the Ariana chronology keeps chugging forward, though the piece is really about Camille and what she does with her life. 

Final two sections are pure Ariana (chronological) narrative.

Thoughts on this lovely story? The above is for sake of opening discussion only—it is hardly The Word on Camille. As soon as you start thinking in terms of The Word, or The Way, or The Answer, you’re sunk.

ldillon - 31 December 2007 08:43 PM

Can we get a definition of “uber-structure”? I have some grasp of what it means, but would rather hear you say it?

Oh—sorry.... I think there’s an implied structure in every narrative, rooted in chronology.
If you give 10 writers the same specs—Okay, guys, get from point A to point Z—they would most likely come up with totally different approaches and structural frameworks. However, that uber-structure (I am making this term up up .. it just seems to work for me...) still roots the story in time and place, no matter how a writer approaches/ structures/ plays around with/ delivers/ builds/ whatever the material.

does that make sense?  Janine asked, how do you move structure beyond the chronological, And I guess this was my way of trying to answer that very thickety and rich question....  i.e., there are a MILLION ways—let’s explore some of them. But a story, no matter what, is going to be rooted somewhere, in simple chronology, even if that somewhere is a passing breath in the back of the writer’s brain.

P.S.—I wold say that the uber-structure of Joyce’s Ulysses is the progress of one day. But the novel is certainly not, he woke up at 7 a.m. and then at noon had lunch and then at 7 p.m. watched Jeopardy, kinda thing. His structural frames, and mini-structures within the larger frames, etc. are far more complex than that progress of a day ... ... makes sense?

IN the same way, the uber-structure of Camille is the progress of Ariana’s short life: Ariana is born w/ defect, Ariana goes to live with Camille, Ariana has a short and difficult life but passable under Camille’s care, Ariana dies.  But the piece is much richer and more complex ...

folks—thoughts on Camille? This is interesting piece for study ...

ldillon - 02 January 2008 11:56 PM

Mary Ann - 01 January 2008 08:23 AM

ldillon - 31 December 2007 08:43 PM

It is surprising when you deconstruct it, how much of a “regular” news story you’ve got going on here. I mean think of all the options for the lede of this story that are in the body:

“For twenty years, Camille, a nurse ....

“There is nothing soft or pious about Camille .... Geraldi, not one trace of Hallmark-card sentimentality or political correctness.”

“The only clue that the blue house ....

Yep. Fascinating. Your point above—a thousand ledes in the body—leads back to my point, I think, that the punchline to the opening scene describing Ariana’s illness—Camille goes to Walmart to buy diapers for her 59th child—is the springboard to that rich world of Camille’s (which in a more traditional way, could be entered a million ways, as Liam points out...)

janine - 13 January 2008 04:43 PM

So, would you guys say that most newspaper narrative should/is chronological for a reader’s understanding and you can play around that within that barebones structure?

Janine—interesting question. Not sure if there is a “yes” or “no” answer. But lemme offer this story, with brief analysis, as an attempt:

http://tinyurl.com/2cnzxu

The Love Song of Dennis Kucinich—a wonderful piece to discuss, for a number of reasons (Cyndi: thanks for sending!)

First, it offers a beautiful potential answer to Janine’s question.

Here is brief structural analysis (this is just my view… am sure you guys will have others.)

I would call the structure of this story the classic “shell structure.”
The “shell” of the story is Dennis and Elizabeth sitting in front of the fire at the inn in New Hampshire, being interviewed by the (not at all present) reporter.

-- Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that the interview lasts two to three hours. The “shell” of that three hour interview – D & E holding hands, finishing each others’ sentences, etc.) makes the bed that the story lies in. 

-- But throughout the piece, the reporter builds constructs to place into the shell—
chunks of background (and chronology) of three separate themes:
<Dennis’s life & his rise in politics
<Elizabeth’s life
< How Elizabeth and Dennis met and fell in love.

—But then, each of these structural building blocks ends, and the piece drops back into the “shell” of the here and now of the couple sitting for an interview at the inn.

In the lede anecdote, the reporter tells a story of something that happened to Dennis and Elizabeth months back.  It becomes clear, as the story unfolds, that the two are relating this story in the here and now in front of the fireplace (the shell).

Here is the first locating bit: 

This guy passed by the window. He stopped. He stared at Elizabeth through the glass. Then he came into the restaurant and walked right up to their table.
”Doesn’t even look at me!” Dennis is saying, grinning, as he retells this story between campaign stops. “He looks at her and he says, ‘You are the most incredibly beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life!’ I’m sitting right there, you know?”
“We’re holding hands!” Elizabeth exclaims, in her elegant accent. She’s lounging in front of the inn’s fireplace, all six feet of her, looking like Botticelli’s Venus, only with clothes on.

And that’s how the story goes: 

Key building block (chronology of Dennis’s childhood, for example), then back to the shell of the here and now, which cradles the whole piece.

So, the uber-chronology (to pick up the term Liam and I were batting around) is, Dennis and Elizabeth are sitting in front of the fire talking to the reporter, Dennis and Elizabeth blab on about this and that, and then, at the end, Dennis “laughs and laughs.”

The internal chronologies (Dennis background; Eliz B’ground; how they met B’ground) are set pieces within that shell....

Does this make sense? Or am I just blabbing?

p.s. I think this shell structure is a very useful and rich way to frame a profile (which this piece basically is....)

ldillon - 04 February 2008 11:06 PM

I am still curious however in what ways the “shell structure” of the piece contributed to the two-person-profile piece working. Do you think if the shell didn’t involve both of them together telling the story of how they met it would still be OK?

Hmm. You raise some interesting points. I guess I didn’t see it as much as a “profile of two people” as it was a profile of an entity, i.e., their love affair.

I think shelling (new word!) can work for any story, but best with one that has two definite narrative levels going on—1.) the here and the now (Dennis and Elizabeth talking in front of the fire) and 2.) the backdrop/ analysis/ history/ backstory stuff. For example, I’m talking with a reporter right now about using a shell approach for a piece about a guy who was in an accident and is now in a (longterm) coma with no apparent sensory awareness. One thing they do in his treatment is place him in some weird sensory stimulation tank (don’t ask). We have been talking about having the story shell (the here and now narrative) be: Guy goes to the sensory tank, guy gets lifted into the sensory tank, guy gets sensory stuff done to him in the sensory tank, guy gets out of the sensory tank and lifted back into bed. The end. The building-block chunks placed into the shell would be things like, the accident; what his life has been like since, and his family’s; the neuroscience of it, his prognosis, etc. etc.

does that make sense?

ldillon - 05 February 2008 08:26 PM

How is a “shell narrative” different than what I’ve been taught is a “broken narrative”? A broken narrative usually begins with the telling of a story, then stopping the story to tell ABOUT the story, then returning to the story and so on...Is there a difference or are we just using different terms to say the same thing?

Never thought about it like that (i.e., difference between “broken” and “shell.") But since you ask, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and make these points, with an open invitation to disagree/ discuss:

-- I think we can get mired in talking theoretically about “this structure or that” to the point of losing sight of the material, so with that caveat…

-- However, you raise a good point: “broken narrative” (which we all have heard about, and described beautifully by Liam above) I would say is a NARRATIVE STORY—i.e., Kleinfield’s Doula, or Cheerleader, etc. etc. , that—yes—is broken up by information ABOUT the narrative. (Doula narrative goes along, then stops to make room for background on the doula program, etc. etc.)

-- Shell, I think, uses a present moment—(Eliz and Dennis in front of the fire; the guy going into the sensory tank) more as a sketch of a frame for the TRUE story. In other words, the “shell” is more of a device than it is a true narrative story in and of itself (like Doula/ Cheerleader...)

-- To illustrate, if you were going to recast CAMILLE with a shell structure (and I think you are right, as it is, it is an example of “broken narrative"), I might suggest the reporter use small bits of Ariana’s struggle to frame each section. The story (the pure narrative) is NOT about Ariana. It is about Camille and her life and work. Ariana is simply the way to get into Camille. Thus, she could be exploited in a “shell” device. But the writer chose to go the other route, which is what the beauty of all this is… it’s wide open!

(does that explanation work for you?)

ldillon - 12 February 2008 10:41 PM

Actually, that’s great. A “shell” around one moment. A “broken line” through one situation ... Cool. More tools for the toolbox…

hey, just a thought ... interesting intellectual exercise… think about how you might/ could reframe some of the stories we’ve been talking about in a shell structure ... for example, the Lane Degregory piece Liam posted this morning on the kid and his adopted mother having lunch ... could be reframed as:
The shell—the arc of the lunch, ordering the ribs to her final quote....
The chunks to place within the shell: their history; his adoption; his problems with FAS; the mother’s struggles with his violent outbursts (all the stuff she has up top, broken into explanatory chunks....

Liam’s War at Home could be “shelled” by framing story with the the guy’s remembering the moment he was sprayed with metal, kinda thing.

Just for a rainy day.