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Make baby Jesus cry
This weekend the Guardian review section ran an article by a guy called James Wood
about what gives a fictional character life. The latter half of the piece was an argument in favour of the kind of ‘flat’ characterisation denigrated by EM Forster. His point was illustrated by a demonstration that the term fit a whole selection of characters from Mrs Micawber to David Brent who despite being easily reduced to “a series of jingles and tags and repetitive gestures” are so recognisable as to be actually more illuminating of the human condition than many more obviously rounded types. I think Icould see what he was getting at, it seemed related to the argument that the more cartoonishly a character in a comic is drawn the easier it is for the reader to identify with them, human nature abhorring a vacuum as it were. And yet not all vacuums are equal, not every middle manager in a British sitcom works the way Brent does. I’m not sure where the difference lies.
Wood’s own disdain was reserved for Amazon and Book club reviewers who fetishise character, demanding growth, depth and like-me-ability across the board. It made me wonder what he would make of fan fiction, which (because its readers already know who to expect) often exhibits the flat and yet mimetic characterization Wood favours but does so from a position of profound belief in the ‘reality’ of fictional individuals.
In other news I think all the vid watching and feedbacking for the new-you–me challenge has had side effects. Before this week I had quite a clear idea of what I wanted to do vid–wise whenever the current teaching logjam cleared. I was going to start by re-mastering Safe From Harm and then get working on the Very Serious, Political and Meta BSG vid that’s been chuntering in my brain for the past few months. Now out of nowhere I’ve been hit by an idea for Buffy. A Slayers vid. To Sinead O’Connor being cryptic and miserable and boy can that woman be miserable, I can’t even play the damm song without coming over all pre-menstrual. It’s a mess. All over the keyboard. And if that weren’t enough the Independent this week included a freebie ‘Stiff Records’ compilation CD and now I also have to vid Nicki/Jessica to Is Vic There?. Or possibly DL. Or the Haitian. Worse if you play Desmond Dekker’s The Israelites backwards I’m convinced it includes subliminal instructions to download a shitload of Charlton Heston movies and submit the results to Club Vivid. Maybe I can get away with substituting The Life of Brian for Moses. The hats are the same.
about what gives a fictional character life. The latter half of the piece was an argument in favour of the kind of ‘flat’ characterisation denigrated by EM Forster. His point was illustrated by a demonstration that the term fit a whole selection of characters from Mrs Micawber to David Brent who despite being easily reduced to “a series of jingles and tags and repetitive gestures” are so recognisable as to be actually more illuminating of the human condition than many more obviously rounded types. I think Icould see what he was getting at, it seemed related to the argument that the more cartoonishly a character in a comic is drawn the easier it is for the reader to identify with them, human nature abhorring a vacuum as it were. And yet not all vacuums are equal, not every middle manager in a British sitcom works the way Brent does. I’m not sure where the difference lies.
Wood’s own disdain was reserved for Amazon and Book club reviewers who fetishise character, demanding growth, depth and like-me-ability across the board. It made me wonder what he would make of fan fiction, which (because its readers already know who to expect) often exhibits the flat and yet mimetic characterization Wood favours but does so from a position of profound belief in the ‘reality’ of fictional individuals.
In other news I think all the vid watching and feedbacking for the new-you–me challenge has had side effects. Before this week I had quite a clear idea of what I wanted to do vid–wise whenever the current teaching logjam cleared. I was going to start by re-mastering Safe From Harm and then get working on the Very Serious, Political and Meta BSG vid that’s been chuntering in my brain for the past few months. Now out of nowhere I’ve been hit by an idea for Buffy. A Slayers vid. To Sinead O’Connor being cryptic and miserable and boy can that woman be miserable, I can’t even play the damm song without coming over all pre-menstrual. It’s a mess. All over the keyboard. And if that weren’t enough the Independent this week included a freebie ‘Stiff Records’ compilation CD and now I also have to vid Nicki/Jessica to Is Vic There?. Or possibly DL. Or the Haitian. Worse if you play Desmond Dekker’s The Israelites backwards I’m convinced it includes subliminal instructions to download a shitload of Charlton Heston movies and submit the results to Club Vivid. Maybe I can get away with substituting The Life of Brian for Moses. The hats are the same.
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