Structural Elements of Fiction
Structural Elements of Fiction
Structural Elements of Fiction
Updated 10/2017
Narrative is a specialist’s term; simply put, a narrative has a “story” logic to its text. Fiction is narrative, and some nonfiction writing takes narrative form,
too (like biographies or anecdotes within an essay). To analyze the structure of any narrative, we look at five fundamental elements:
Setting is the time and location of events that define each scene of a narrative’s action—the WHEN(s) and WHERE(s) of a story. An author may make the
settings explicit or implicit (directly or indirectly presented), minor in importance/impact or major—attention should be paid to the purpose for setting
changes/ choices (especially as they relate/ support other elements and the meaning of the text).
Setting is entangled with the plotting of a story (the ordering of events—a part of style—not to be confused with plot structure), so be careful how you
“locate” flashbacks, dream sequences, etc—these “scenes” may occur chronologically in the wording, but retrospectively/ disjointedly/ virtually in the
“logical” time or space of the sequence of action in the story, altering its interpretation. The setting of a story may or may not be the same as the time and
place of the authorship of the story—even if the setting is left ambiguous, never assume!—look for evidence to justify your interpretation.
When fully developed—as it is in most complex texts—setting goes beyond being the “backdrop” to the action to function as a major or minor character.
Setting at this level is considered “environment” because it not only surrounds, it influences the action/actors.
Be careful not to confuse the author’s tone (specifically a major component of tone, “mood”) with the author’s presentation of setting by reducing it to how
it is perceived by characters (mysterious, hostile, etc) instead of analyzing its actual attributes. Setting—whether it’s simple or complex—is concrete
context; mood is a judgment about how the author intended the reader to imagine the context feels and how it reflects or opposes the feelings behind
characters’ action—see tone and mood.
Examples of contexts: “a cultural/ religious/ social/ political revolution erupting;” “an epidemic when medical practice was still very primitive;” “a closed/
open, controlled/ free, urban/pastoral, diverse/monocultural society.”
Characterization/Character Development is the ACTIVE PROCESS an AUTHOR applies to assign attributes to each actor in a story (person, communal
group, animal, force, influential thing—all are charACTers). The author embeds examples, testimony or not-C evidence of attributes in the narrative to
develop what we call its “characters,” the specific WHO(s)—even if these aren’t beings but things—interacting within the story. Be careful not to substitute
mere character description for analysis of character development, the decisions by the author, communicated through the narrator, that actually “create”
characters. Be careful not to misinterpret the term “development of character.” Characters aren’t real, so they don’t “develop” [grow up] like, say, human
children do. Authors develop them—that is, they create characters like, say, an invention.
Character Personae –
Separate traits embedded by the author combine to DEVELOP a profile of every actor’s overall persona [singular of personae and a word we use to
avoid the confusion of saying the “character” of a character and to push beyond the more general idea of personality]. To analyze what/who the
author made a complex character be, look beyond simplistic categories or brief “bios” (like “his step-father” or “a man who had a hard childhood”);
focus instead on
revealed by the character’s actions, reported thoughts and descriptions by the narrator or other characters. When you are analyzing these,
remember they occur, as they do for real-life personae, in multiple dimensions:
Age-based
Cultural
Emotional
Gender-based
Moral/Ethical
Philosophical
Physical
Political
Psychological
Religious
Social/Economic
Other?
In most narrative, development BY THE AUTHOR of personae is directly linked to the text’s theme and/or purpose (go figure, we like to use examples of
actors like/unlike us to communicate and understand ideas). At the college level, to trace these links, look for how traits and/or personae within and
between characters are related to each other—for example, the contrast between expected and actual traits—and related to other elements—for example,
compare characters’ beliefs with their actions or decisions [plot]. Personae development is often used by the author to emphasize, highlight or otherwise
connect together all the structural elements of a narrative (anthropocentric much?).
Character Types –
Characters’ personae—the combination of traits making up their “profile”—are developed to different complexity levels:
a Flat character’s persona is given only one or two traits in the narrative. Think of flat as having no depth or, less judgmentally, as the
author choosing to show only one facet of him/her/it in the story.
a Round character’s traits, put together, make him/her/it many-sided, perhaps even self-contradictory, persona. Think of a round persona
as “3-dimensional” (although this, of course, would make the character a sphere not a circle—sheesh, mathphobic literature geeks!) or
more real-life-like. Roundness is often confused with being dynamic (see below).
a Stock character’s traits fit exactly—and only rarely expand or challenge—a stereotype character’s persona found again and again in
similar texts (mad scientist, tough-minded CEO, sidekick)—but should not be confused with a stereotype in a society but not in literature
(class clown; crazy driver; gaudy tourist). “Stock” is meant metaphorically, to represent “off-the-shelf” or cookie-cutter actors inserted by
an author into any story as is. Contrast stock characters with archetypes, who are often round, individual “particulars” whose essence (not
their surface), follows one of the ideal patterns established throughout the history and in very different genres and styles of literature.
Stock characters are mostly flat, but not definitively so.
a Dynamic character’s persona—all or enough of his/her/its beginning traits—undergoes permanent change throughout the plot—that is, the
character relocated to a previous scene does NOT make sense or at least the same sense because the before and after personae have
diverged. When looking at static vs dynamic, be careful to analyze change in TRAITS of the character, not in the character’s
circumstances (a change in environment or development of plot, not of character). For example, dying/ getting older/ winning/ losing/
moving does NOT make a character dynamic. Again, remember that authors develop characters.
A dilemma everyone faces when analyzing dynamism of character is this question: did the character’s persona actually evolve from A
to B (dynamic) or did the reader just learn new/expanded trait(s) about him/her/it as the story progressed that had always been there
(the author adding to the character’s roundness)? Think of the multiple backstories/ flashbacks for the characters in “Lost.” If you
followed the show like truly obsessed fans did, you had long online chats trying to parse out whether certain “new” info changed who
the characters were or only added new layers to consider about them.
To justify dynamism for a character, show evidence implicit or explicit, that the evolution is:
logically within the possibilities of the character (no “jumping the shark”)
intrinsically motivated rather than merely response to new/changing events (or else the character didn’t change,
circumstances did)
given sufficient time/ emphasis to justify it as intentionally communicated by the author to the reader (not your “gut
feeling” that the character would be different)
an Antagonist is the central actor(s) working against the protagonist’s intentions for solving the conflict, be it person, thing, force,
environment, or even trait(s) of the protagonist’s own persona—he/she/it may also be sympathetic or unsympathetic (may/may not be a
“villain”).
Major characters have direct, significant effect on other characters’ actions and/or on the plot structure—this could make them main
characters or not; minor characters if they affect characters or plot at all, do so indirectly and insignificantly—so, a main character might be
minor. A Foil is a category of minor character whose function is limited to highlighting the traits/actions of a major character or other
element(s) of the story. A foil is often a double or opposite (mirror image) of another character’s trait(s)—other elements and even
passages can also be a foil or a “echo” used for reinforcement or contrast. (Do not call foils or any character outside of an allegory a
symbol, however—see literary devices, later, for why.)
Indirect Presentation –the author keeps the narrator/speaker limited to showing the character only in action (with no commentary/ interpretation),
leaving implicit the type, role and/or persona; the author is forcing the reader to INFER a character’s traits, impact and development by drawing
implications from what he/she is told the character thinks, says or does in the story. This strategy of presentation is called dramatizing.
To analyze dramatization by an author, justify where the following are implicit in the narrative:
a full character profile (traits that fit together to form a coherent persona for the character type; no outliers/ contradictions)
the actions/reactions aligned to the profile’s motivation(s)/ belief(s)/ strength(s) and/or weakness(es) (role that is justified by the plot
structure and the character persona and type; no missing links/gaps)
connections between character and context (persona/ type/ role are plausible, given the events/environment of the story)
Direct and indirect presentation is used by authors to develop most elements of narrative. So, pay attention to HOW you are told the story (what’s explicit
and implicit in the work) in order to support your claims about its interpretation [just like I said on the second day of this class!].
Plot Structure is the abstract pattern “behind” (implicit in) the actual sequence of events/actions in a story that gives it a logical structure—the HOW of
WHAT HAPPENS. Like characterization, college-level plot analysis goes beyond summary or description of the action. Instead, since stories are
arguments (everything’s an argument!) think of plot structure as Toulmin Analysis: identify the default warrants, backing and grounds that make up the
implicit argument, HOW the story WORKS. Plot structure can be thought of as the outline of the author’s proof-of-claim.
Western culture’s basic plot pattern is also its fundamental “formula” for understanding human experience. Its stories logically “prove” how it views the
pattern of a life: growth of awareness, confrontation/decision about truth and solution of problem(s) to gain a higher state of knowledge/ existence/
stability. (Do you see the Judeo-Christian worldview that informs this shared cultural outlook?)
We break this basic pattern into 5 interconnected Cs.
NB: Never forget that other cultures’ patterns are different, because their formulae for life and worldviews are different. Also, within the Western tradition,
there are variants and alternates to the basic pattern. This 5 C pattern, however, is a baseline with which to compare/contrast any narrative’s logical
structure.
CRITICAL NB: The Cs are OUR terms, developed to support quality literary analysis by our students at Jackson. AP and college instructors elsewhere
do NOT use these same terms and, in fact, will expect their students to use others (see notes below for related, commonly used terms you should
familiarize yourself with). THINK and READ using our terms—since they are effective—but be ready to:
1. align our Cs with other common terms when you come across them in other sources (study guides, published literary analyses, etc)
2. EXPLICITLY DEFINE not JUST NAME, terms as you argue about any text (ex: “The decision the main character makes that solves the conflict is…”
instead of just “The climax is…”). This is a good, general tip for ensuring that any audience sees that you know what you’re talking about for any
definition.
3. WRITE/RESPOND for other audiences (AP, ACT, SAT, college profs, etc) using the common terms they expect and/or defining the component as
you use it explicitly so there is no confusion.
Conflict is a fundamental problem that sets off action and that must be solved in order for the action to end. Think of conflict as analogous to a catalyst for
reactants in chemistry, the reason all the elements of the story combine as well as the why they stop reacting (solution is achieved when the
catalyst has been used up, right?). An effective default formula to describe conflict is:
_____________ (unacceptable sitch) is present and must be addressed and solved in some way; otherwise the events/ actions that involve the problem
will continue.
Go beyond the PROBLEM of the MAIN CHARACTER(s) when analyzing conflict at the college level. This is very hard to avoid (anthrocentrism strikes
again!). To train yourself out of this, state a problem that is, at least, shared by all major characters.
Complications are events/actions in the story that get in the way of—block action or add complexity to—solving the conflict (usually by introducing new
sub-problems). Other sources group these kinds of actions/events together as “rising [plot] action.” Be careful not to confuse plot complications
(acts/events) with actors like the conflict’s antagonist (character). Complications may or may not be under the control of major characters; they
would, logically, be related to them in some significant way.
Crisis (if one is present at all) is a final, usually culminating, complication that takes the form of an emergent obstacle to the established progression of
actions/events—specifically a hurdle/dilemma that forces the climax to occur. The crisis could be the endpoint of a series of complications leading
directly to the climax, or a crisis can occur because circumstances in the narrative demand immediate relief/ resolution (like the ticking time bomb
trope). In traditional stories like folktales, the crisis is the most important complication or one that was made inevitable by earlier events/actions
(think Cinderella). Not all narrative will have a crisis—if no complication stands out, the complications instead build up to the climax. In fact,
melodramatic narratives often employ crises ineffectively to develop plot—think of bad action movie moments of “what WILL he do?” Analyzing crisis
is a convenient first step to evaluate the quality and complexity of plot development (see below) and to relate different complications to each other to
determine their significance/ effects.
This next C is our biggest departure from what you’ve been taught before. Trust us, though; it works:
Climax is the DECISION made by the main character(s)—not an ACT/EVENT—that directly resolves the conflict (the cause for the solution of the
problem). This definition is more specific and “proveable” than the usual one found in high school sources, “most exciting part/turning point of the
story.” Our contention is that all acts that resolve the conflict come in the form of a choice (since a resolution that wasn’t intentional would mean the
problem solved itself). In traditional stories the protagonist controls the decision, but it is not necessarily either the protagonist(s) or antagonist(s).
Analyzing climax at the college level requires you to justify with evidence of direct and/or indirect presentation what the decision was and why it—not
something else—directly solved the problem YOU defined as the conflict.
Conclusion is the actual—realized—resolution of the conflict: HOW the problem comes to fruition (does the climax-decision work or not?). It is NOT how
the story ends. So, if the climax were the decision to confront the enemy, the conclusion would be the outcome of that confrontation: who has the
power NOW? It would NOT be the confrontation itself. Events do occur after the plot structure’s conclusion (think: happily ever after, reunion scene,
victory party, etc). Do not confuse the author’s “tying up loose ends” with logical solution of the conflict. Dénouement is the specialized term for
these “wrap ups.” Other sources call the series of events from climax through dénouement, “falling action.”
Plot Manipulation describes an author’s choice to make the action depart from what is predictable or expected for the characters, conflict
and/or setting as they have been presented. To be effective, it should avoid any implausible twists or turns (evil twin!), false leads (“red
herrings”) or unjustified gaps/inclusions (what happened? what was that?) and, instead, add complexity/ depth/ richness to the process of
communicating meaning to the reader.
Themes are significant, IMPLICIT messages from the author to the reader indicating how the story should be applied to real life/ real world—WHY the
author thinks the story should matter to the reader. To avoid being banal or just plain wrong, think of theme as the implications of the argument of the
work—that is, what we readers should do, what we should be aware of, or how we need to look at things in life/the world differently now that we’ve
understood this story.
Warrant: theme is related to, but different from, the argument the story makes.
Definition: narrative literature argues
hypotheses regarding the layers and/or impacts of the relationships of
WHOs to WHEREs to WHENs to WHATs to HOWs to WHYs
See my room wordles for common concepts related to literature’s arguments and themes.
Unlike what high school textbooks and online study guides would call “controlling ideas,” (which is the topic of study for informative/expository, not
narrative, genres), narrative themes are reasonable conclusions about what to do/ think/ understand about life/the world that understanding the work’s
“proof” of the layers/impacts gets you to draw.
o are best expressed as complete argument (claim and reason), never as a single idea (NOT “motherhood” but “Our families sometimes are more
frustrating than rewarding because…”)—using both claim and reason to state themes works to keep you from a trap like “A theme is ‘Don’t mistreat
people’ …because… why?—it’s wrong to mistreat people… because…mistreating is not treating fairly??”
o are plausibly applicable to the real world/lives of the intended audience, not lessons that apply only to particular characters or specific situations in
the story (NOT “stay out of the basement when a killer is on the loose” but, perhaps, “one’s strength isn’t really known until it’s tested because…”)
o yet are NOT generalized beyond the parameters of the situation depicted in the work (NOT “[all] Modern life is [always] dehumanizing” but “In
today’s hectic world, living amongst a crowd can be as lonely as solitary existence because...”)
There is often more than one argument and thus more than one theme within a complex piece of fiction, but that does not mean that ANY message a
reader takes from a work is a reasonable theme. You must be able to justify any theme by first being sure it matches the college-level definition above
and then analyzing evidence from the work’s structural elements to establish that it argues layers/impacts of a relationship that would plausibly lead to
that conclusion. Rarely is argument in a complex work presented directly through the narrator or character—even in narrative nonfiction; rather, a
combination of indirect presentation along with direct and a combination of elements—never just characterization or plot—communicates it.
Move beyond simplistic arguments of a work that just restate a main character’s outlook, actions, motivation or beliefs in a particular situation so you can
avoid banal themes (“We should do/not do what X does when faced with a similar situation”). You can do so by answering this default question:
What is the author arguing is likely true in the real world by creating a “virtual” scenario where X narrator/character thinks/does/believes Y in Z situation?
NB: Any statement that reduces a narrative’s argument or theme to some aphorism or cliché should be avoided. Do not use “A stitch in time saves nine,”
“You can’t judge a book by its cover, “Treat others the way you wish to be treated” and so on. Well-written and well-understood narrative makes complex
and significant arguments that are worth applying to the real world. Look at narrative theme as the implications of the whole story’s argument, the full,
elaborate test of the author’s theory about the world/life (not just judgment of one act, one person, one situation), and you should be able to move beyond
banal toward cogent.
Narration refers to the LITERAL Point of View of the storyteller—where he/she/it stands in relation to the action of the story (like perspective for a
painting). In fiction, the narrator who is telling the story should NEVER be confused with the author (even if the narrator has the same name, like Dante).
Thus, you would never say “Faulkner says” when you mean “the narrator in Faulkner’s story says” (Faulkner writes what the narrator tells the reader). In
nonfiction works, however, the narrator and author are assumed to be the same unless the work indicates otherwise (Madison, Jay and Hamilton created
narrative identities who “spoke” the text of the Federalist Papers.)
Narration as an element occupies a gray area between structure—the logic—and style—the artistry—of narrative, because it combines components of the
story with effects of the language. Pay close attention to when/how narration relates to/overlaps/departs from the text’s style1. Don’t underestimate
Narration’s impact on precise interpretation of meaning—since it is, of course, the foundational element of Narrat ive.
WHO the Narrator is telling the story mediates the VIEW the reader gets “into” the story, by employing what level of access to information and how much
control over the reader.
Point of view in the literary sense should not be confused with an author’s “point of view” or “perspective on” life, racism, politics, etc. Remember:
analyzing the perspective/point of view of a painting is within the piece of art; analyzing the painter’s perspective on a subject is talking about what is
outside of the art. The same is true for text.
WHO the narrator is equals the persona (or avatar, if you like) that matches the story’s teller (NOT author), whether he/ she/ it is developed/acts as a
character in the story or not—you should gather implicit and explicit clues about the narrator’s traits to determine strengths, weaknesses, motivations and
beliefs and the narrator’s relationship to the reader (is he/she/it intrusive—imposing on the reader’s experience of the text? aesthetically distant—seeming
impersonal, even aloof? credible—trustworthy as a reporter of the information?). Then, analyze the effect(s) of persona, relationship to reader and the
narrator’s similarities to and differences from other characters on the interpretation of the meaning. Be ready: it is often only or mostly implicit clues
revealing the narrator’s persona—high level characterization analysis. The only case of narrative not having any WHO telling the story is when point of
view/narration is objective (see below).
Type
Point of view/narration is always directly presented and fits one of four types, here in order of most to least access to information:
3rd Person Omniscient: the story is told by a god-like third person observer whose knowledge, control and prerogatives are unlimited and
subjective. This type of narrator can:
o “read minds” of some/all characters some/all of the time and/or
o know information outside of the action being presented some/all of the time and/or
o have information unavailable to the characters in the story some/all of the time and/or
o move outside of the time/location of the scene some/all of the time.
Omniscient narrators can be controlling or neutral toward the reader, certain characters and/or the subject(s) of the narrative (see literary
devices for more on this). They can mislead, be biased, misunderstand and even play favorites—they are still personae with traits, after all
(even if they never act). Analyze these narrators by paying attention to what they choose to communicate versus what they keep to themselves
as well as how that communication affects the readers’ feelings and understanding of the subjects/characters/theme.
3rd Person Limited: the story is told by a third person observer with special access/connection to one character but otherwise real world-like
capabilities. This narrator can:
o “read minds” of only one character within any scene or only one character throughout the story and
o only know information available to that character in the scene;
o MAY/may not understand the character better/more accurately than the character him- or herself does and use narration to communicate
this knowledge.
Other characters’ thoughts and out of scene action and information are not accessible to this type of narrator, leaving him/her/it limited in
scope. You should analyze this narration by noting which character(s) the narrator is limited to and what the narrator shares/keeps hidden
about the character. Again, the narrator can be controlling, neutral or biased toward the reader and character—look for effects of the
narrator’s preferences about reporting info on the meaning of the story presented.
1st Person Limited: the narrator is a major or minor character (which can, remember, be a communal group) acting within the story; the story is
told firsthand (using “I” or “we”) and is limited to what the narrating character witnesses/learns through the depicted action per scene and
his/ her/ its/ their own thoughts. 1st person narration may rotate amongst different characters who tell different parts of a story, but only one
1st person narrator can be “in charge” in a scene at a time. 1st person narration omniscient could occur in god-like characters (example: The
Lovely Bones); 1st person objective is a gray area (see below). When analyzing this type of narrator, consider traits and actions to determine
how reliable or influenced he/she/it is for communicating information—how much does he/she/it see and understand and how accurately; can
you trust what he/she/it says, or is it “tainted?”
Objective or Dramatic: the exact opposite of omniscient narration. The narration displays objectivity comparable to a sound camera—it is
subjective or controlling only in what it chooses to allow the audience to see/hear, not through any comments or discernible manipulation of
the reader’s VIEW into the story. A term from computer science for this is WYSIWYG—what you see is what you get. In this type of narration:
o NO past/future or location outside the current scene is directly presented;
o ALL actions occur in each scene’s present, “right before the reader’s eyes;”
o No special access to thoughts is allowed, although the narration might follow one character at a time or exclusively;
o NO discernible persona of a “storyteller” exists;
o the reader is given mostly indirect presentation of structural elements, requiring a lot of inference in order to interpret.
Most plays are narrated in this way (ergo the term “dramatic” for this and indirect presentation of characterization above). 1st person objective
is a gray area since it could occur if the recording of events was done through an agent who is an actor in the story but who does not
“construct” the story (like a wearable camera on a character). The 1st person objective narrator would be a non-narrating narrator who takes
part in the action—see below for further grayness in this type. Stage/screen play directions within dramas represent another gray area—they are
written by the AUTHOR but might provide direct presentation of elements without the “middle man” of a narrator.
Narrative Discourse
Within all of these categories and on top of analyzing narrator’s persona, relationship to and manipulation of the VIEW of the reader is a very subtle and
manipulative technique of narration, what literary analysts call “discourse” connecting the narrator (the storyteller) to characters withinin and readers
outside (the story’s tellees) through the telling of the content. The two types of discourse are not dichotomous like direct or indirect presentation, yet
students either treat them the same or mix them up with each other OFTEN!!
Direct discourse acts like a direct “line of communication” between the narrator and the reader, where he/she/it offers comments on action,
characters, etc, providing direct presentation of some or all elements (this is like “calling” a game on the radio). All forms of 3 rd and 1st person
narration can utilize direct discourse; objective narration cannot, by definition. Contrast this with the fact that objective narration can use direct
presentation, but only in the form of characters’ comments, not comments by the narrator.
Indirect discourse is NOT the opposite of direct discourse. It may or may not provide direct presentation; but it always involves an implied
sympathy with or parallel to a character. It exists where the narrator’s telling of the story “mimics” the voice, attitude and/or style of usually,
main character(s) not just in reporting/quoting the character’s(s’) words and thoughts, but overall (Rowling’s narrator does this for most of the
Harry Potter series, leaving us to “feel” like we’re experiencing every event as Harry does even though we are “hearing” the events reported by
an observer who just happens to phrase them like we think Harry would phrase them, too). A narrator using indirect discourse ISN’T the
character, and the narration ISN’T “from the character’s point of view,” but the narration manipulates the reader by seeming to, as students
rightly put it, “represent the character’s perspective.” Consider how therapists, lawyers and teachers use indirect presentation in their phrasing,
pitch and tone when talking with a client to build up trust and make the person feel “heard.” Indirect discourse in a narrative is a similar form of
manipulation, experienced second-hand by the reader. Indirect discourse can be conducted with more than one character and even by a 1 st
person narrator with a different character—whenever it happens, analyze its effect on interpretation: is it hiding, revealing, emphasizing,
changing, etc what the reader thinks is true? (Perhaps this is why YOU suspected Snape but never Quirrell in Sorcerer’s Stone?)
All text—even text that isn’t verbal (that is, doesn’t have words)—has a style, a particular use of language (visual language, body language, music, etc)
that “carries” the intended meaning to the intended audience. Style is frustratingly ill-defined by literature specialists. Some use the terms “genres” and
“sub-genres” in a way that includes both conventions of text (fantasy, mystery) as well as styles (Southern Gothic, Absurdist). Others limit style to only
idiosyncratic wording and/or organization of text (E. E. Cumming’s peripateticism). AP exams often refer to style obliquely by using terms like
“techniques,” “strategies” and “devices,” which, when language-based, would be stylistic.
To analyze style, we look at three overlapping elements (keeping in mind that techniques of narration sometimes cross over into style, too):
Style1 is the abstract term for a text’s particular use of language in a specific sense, the UNIQUE “profile” that fits the patterns of expression, found in
choice of words (musical notes/images/movements for nonverbal texts), their arrangement on the page (or song/canvas/stage) and the grammar and
syntax chosen to connect them (their relationships to other components of the art), employed to achieve the author’s purpose. Style is the hows of
communicating, NOT the whats communicated.
Be careful: style refers to HOW a writer writes (a painter paints, a dancer dances), not what a text is like (style cannot be “difficult” or “boring” or
“exciting”) or what genre it fits (style cannot be “science fiction” nor “tragic”).
Like theme, it is counterproductive to try to categorize an author’s style1 with a one-word adjective (although you will hear Hemingway’s style referred to
as “journalistic;” Faulkner’s as “ponderous,” etc). Instead, scan a work to find its significant, specific patterns of language use—then analyze these to find
the ones that control your interpretation by provoking a reaction. Be sure to consider the style 1 of speakers’ and/or thinkers’ dialogue as well as the style1
of the text outside of dialogue; then compare/ contrast controlling styles within one text against each other to determine how and why the style is used by
the author for the particular audience, subject and content.
Style2 is also used as a term for the pattern of language in a text in a broad sense, classification of a work/author as fitting an ESTABLISHED “school of
thought,” movement or trend in art and/or philosophy (unlike style1, this type of style IS often a single-word, proper noun, like Be-Bop, Stoic, Modernist,
etc). Don’t mix up this kind of style with genres of art, dance, books either—there isn’t a portrait “style,” a ballet “style” or a detective story “style!” Style2
categories are marked by a “signature” style1, subject matter, purpose and/or even narrative structural elements (a gray area) identified as “the” style of a
particular group of practitioners (see the precise definition of motif as a literary device).
Dr. Kip Wheeler of Gonzaga University addresses this sense of style thusly:
While common parlance uses the word school to refer to a specific institute of learning, literary scholars use this term to refer to groups of writers or poets who share
similar styles, literary techniques, or social concerns regardless of their educational backgrounds. In some rare cases, the group's members recognize that they share
these concerns while they are alive, and they purposely name themselves or their movement to reflect their characteristics. For instance, the American Beat poets,
the French Imagists, and the English Pre-Raphaelites recognized and named themselves as being part of their respective movements. It is far more common,
however, for later generations of scholars and critics to look back and lump groups of artists or thinkers into specific schools. For instance, the Romantic poets, the
Spenserians, the Pushkin Pleiad, the Cavalier poets, the Metaphysical poets, and the Gothic novelists are specific schools of literature, but these labels did not
appear for the particular groups until years after the writers lived. Art historians make similar distinctions about the Bauhaus school, the Expressionist movement, the
Fauves, the Cubists, and so on. Shared intellectual or philosophical tendencies mark schools of philosophy as well--such as the Epicureans, the Stoics, the Skeptics, the
Sophists, the Platonists, and the Neo-platonists--and these terms are often applied in a general way to writers who existed in later centuries. [my bold]
From: https://web.cn.edu/kwheeler/lit_terms.html
Other styles you will hear, especially for creative literature: surrealism, realism, gothic, transcendentalist.
Timelines of literature are a very GENERAL place to start on style2. Try these--
One in interesting visual form: Literary Periods Timeline
To refine some of the timeline categories, see:
http://www.studyguide.org/brit_lit_timeline.htm and
http://www2.bakersfieldcollege.edu/gdumler/english%205a/periods%20&%20timelines/british_literature_timeline.htm for British only
http://www.socsdteachers.org/tzenglish/literature_timeline.htm for American and British
http://parkrose.orvsd.org/mod/resource/view.php?id=8739 for American, British and Canadian
for American novels: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americannovel/timeline/index.html
Philosophies can also be or can overlap styles of art. A great, interactive way to see such connections is:
http://www.wadsworth.com/philosophy_d/special_features/timeline/timeline.html#
Students often simply used timeline labels as style2, telling me, for example, that something written in a certain time period is “contemporary” because it
is written in that time span. This simplistic connection is weak at best, and plain ol’ inaccurate at worst. Remember that artists can go “retro”
(contemporary Romantics), evolve previous styles (neo-Romantics) and/or their art can be created explicitly against the prevailing style, philosophy or
trends (anti-Romantic or post-Romantic). There’s no way around this: you’ve got to carefully research and deliberately compare/contrast sources and
texts to analyze style2. Wanna be sure you know the “minimum?” Then, be sure you are ready to apply the info presented in these two sites:
http://public.wsu.edu/~campbelld/amlit/litfram.html
http://www.online-literature.com/periods/
An example of analysis of style for a poet you may have heard of (through Proquest):
http://proquest.umi.com/pqdweb?
index=0&did=1469411311&SrchMode=2&sid=2&Fmt=3&VInst=PROD&VType=PQD&RQT=309&VName=PQD&TS=1261067572&clientId=25512
Tone is the artist’s implicit attitude (feeling/ emotion—empathizers rejoice!) toward the audience and the subjects (ideas, people, places, things, events,
etc) of the text conveyed through the work’s style (NOT through its narrative structure). That is, a story of an evil boss destroying her worker’s dreams
can carry ANY tone; the story doesn’t have a tone, the language does. Tone can be—and often is—described by a single “feeling” word, like angry, playful,
nostalgic or bitter (but not adjectives that describe genre—like tragic or dramatic—see style above). A big mistake often made with tone is to substitute
YOUR feelings about a subject or the circumstances in a text for the artist’s (empathizers beware!...see mood below). Just because YOU think
something in a work of art is disgusting, humorous or negative doesn’t mean the artist does (in fact, you may be reacting strongly BECAUSE the artist’s
tone is the opposite of your personal attitude).
Balancing the artist’s feeling toward the audience with his/her feeling toward the subjects is always a gray area in describing tone. Think, especially, of
texts you thought talked down to you—these might be labeled as having a pedantic, condescending or distant tone, despite (perhaps BECAUSE of?) the
fact that their subject is taken so seriously (think of anti-drug messages. In expository art forms where, given the subject, artist’s emotion is muted or
intangible, analysts describe the artist’s attitude toward the audience by looking at his/her work’s conventionality (its adherence to rules and level of
diction) of the expression—thus, these can be described as having a formal or informal tone. For lists of tones toward audience see sites like
http://www.mshogue.com/AP/tone.htm
In fiction, poetry and other genres of art where the artist is NOT the storyteller/point of view presenting the art, you MUST discern difference(s) between
the narrator’s and/or characters’ feelings/ attitudes and the artist’s tone. Using untrustworthy or antipathetic narrators/points of view can create a tone
OPPOSITE to the artist’s (called ironic). And, the converse applies: if there are no cues to DIStrust the narrator/point of view, it is likely convergent with
the artist’s. For either case, use credible OUTSIDE information about the text’s real-world context, subjects, author and audience to decide if it’s
reasonable the artist would feel a similar or opposite way.
There is a MAJOR gray area involving tone and the structural elements of setting and narration. Mood is the term for how the characters/narrator/point of
view and thus, by extension, the AUDIENCE would reasonably perceive the circumstances that make up the text (empathizers…careful now…)—this is
often categorized as the atmosphere of the art (thus: dark, oppressive, hopeful, liberating, etc would be appropriate words for describing mood). In works
of art where the artist and the point of view are logically the same (autobiography, nonfiction, etc) mood/atmosphere and tone are ALSO essentially the
same. BUT mood/atmosphere and tone are NOT synonymous for genres in which the artist is NOT the same as the narrator/point of view presenting the
art (fiction, poetry, etc).
To get even grayer in all genres, atmosphere/mood is separate from another oft-confused-for-synonymous term, environment (the character of the
setting), yet there is cross-over/connection because mood and environment each contribute in a similar way to the meaning/purpose of art. For example,
a story with a “backdrop” of the brutality (mood) of an endless urban war (setting environment) may be used by the author to show how perceptions
(mood) and/or circumstances (setting) infect characters with similar brutality, or, conversely, provoke an opposite reaction in them (like, say, despair).
Here environment and mood are not the same, but they are entwined with each other and work together to support the meaning.
Consider how key mood is to deriving tone and understanding the message of, say, Edvard Munch’s The Scream:
Munch is NOT the main figure in the painting, so it is not reasonable to say Munch feels what the figure feels or how YOU feel when you look at the work.
However, Munch is certainly intending to depict the figure’s feelings and evoke them in his audience—fear, isolation, hopelessness, all part of the
painting’s mood—with his painting. Tone, however, is the attitude Munch reasonably has about the situation he is depicting AND toward the audience to
whom he is communicating it. Munch’s tone would NOT logically involve “fear” or “hope,” since these don’t connect HIM to the situation or to the
audience. Given Munch’s personal and family history (which requires outside research to know and to justify for an analysis), it would be reasonable to
argue that his tone was angry and the painting an indictment of the indifference of his society to individuals’ suffering (like that of the main figure in his
painting).
A way to differentiate these is to contrast interior mood—felt by the “inhabitants” and “participants” of the art—with exterior artist’s tone by asking, “how
does the artist likely feel about situations like this (since he/she made the choice to connect them this way)?”
Pinpoint the artist’s attitude on this general line, then up the precision of your definition: if it’s in the critical sector, is the artist angry or concerned…or…? If
it’s sitting around neutral, is he/she detached or nonjudgmental…or…? Located in the sympathetic zone…is he/she supportive or celebratory…or…?
Potential tones for all genres in graphic form(some also applicable to categorizing mood):
A step-by-step guide to identifying evidence of and analyzing tone and mood for nonfictiony genres and mood ONLY for fictiony ones:
http://www.wikihow.com/index.php?title=Analyze-Tone-in-Literature&printable=yes
Its concepts are adapted by me, here:
How to Analyze Tone in Literature
Keep DIDLS in mind when analyzing tone: diction, imagery, detail, language and style.
Literary Devices are an existing set of particular patterns for word use and the expression of ideas that authors use to create enhanced meaning or effect
(visual, kinesthetic, digital and other devices exist for nonverbal art forms). As an element, this includes different categories of strategies identified by me
as modes, figurative language, rhetorical devices and poetic devices, based on their different functions. These manipulations of language are explicitly
presented, but their interpretation requires inference from the reader. See online devices glossary of these on my website.
One of the most influential and problematic devices for students to analyze in any art is Symbolism (which is why some literary analysts categorize
symbolism alone as the eighth element, letting the rest of the devices fall under style—I find this overemphasizes one type of figure over the myriad that a
well-informed literary analyst should know). When symbolism is a significant component of a work, it is best defined as follows:
Symbolism is the use of objects or ideas within a work to perform a role/carry a meaning that replaces their literal form to reinforce interpretation by
the audience (contrast this with other figures—“figurative language” in the literary devices handout--that extend meaning but don’t fully replace it).
Symbols can be names, actions and/or things, but they are almost never characters outside of allegorical art (or else the character is replaced in
meaning, not enhanced; thus it is no longer a full persona).
To identify potential symbols:
The work itself must furnish sufficient clues that a detail is to be taken symbolically—symbols nearly always signal their existence by emphasis,
repetition and/or position. Your analysis should point to these clues in order to justify your claims about symbolism and its relationship to the work’s
meaning(s).
The interpretation of a symbol must be established and supported by the context of the entire work—that is your analysis must be able to link its
intended interpretation to all the elements of the art as validation. A symbol has its meaning inside not outside the work of art (the opposite of
theme, which generalizes outside).
As a general rule, any symbol should represent a cluster of meanings, not just one “stand in” idea. Be careful not to make claims about symbolism that
oversimplify (any light equals knowledge, travel is always a journey of discovery, black is bad, white is good, etc); these claims often miss the fact that
these figures are operating as images or motifs, not full-blown symbolism.
Cool Symbolic reading of Jay-Z? http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112998783
Bottom Line for Devices
For the more common use of symbol as one of many techniques operating within a work, rather than a major component of its meaning, see the online
devices list. Many—maybe MOST—devices you’ve been taught have more precise and comprehensive definitions at the college/AP level. You will need to
upgrade your working
Author’s Purpose
…answers the question:
Why did this author write this work
this way at this time for this audience?
…by researching and then laying out an argument that explains the answers to these questions (which are the backing and grounds):
a. Who is the author personally and professionally?—you can think of this as analyzing the real-world author’s persona.
b. What is the origin and context of the work (historically, artistically, philosophically, culturally, etc)?—you can think of this as
analyzing the real-world setting/environment and influences on the work.
c. What subjects does the work address?—meant to be general: the topic, issue, idea, event, person, situation, scenario, problem
(as in social commentary), etc see style2.
d. Who is the specific intended audience for the work?—you can think of this as analyzing the real-world readers’ personae, and it
isn’t “general audience” EVER.
e. How are the subjects and audience treated by the author with the work?—this is tone and theme combined.
f. HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU’RE RIGHT for A-E?—sorry, none of these are “guessable”/general knowledge questions—they all
require research using credible secondary and/or primary sources.
College-level analysis of purpose, of course, requires college-level depth, breadth and cogency. Again, using higher-level secondary sources instead of
basic encyclopedias, study guides, etc gives you a better foundation for your argument.
One major “school” of analysis of purpose is called Historical Criticism. It examines how the beliefs, events, people, ideas, culture, etc in an author’s time
period CHANGE/DEEPEN/CLARIFY interpretations of a work’s meaning (other schools of criticism focus on ways works connect with existing socio-
politico-econo-religio-etc philosophies—like deconstructionism, cultural criticism, feminist criticism, Marxist criticism—and as such are usually reserved for
English major and graduate courses). To comprehensively analyze purpose, a literary analyst doing historical criticism must find and analyze the
information in outside sources on the author’s personal and professional background, and the artistic, cultural and historical milieux of the work and of
the audience. Then he/she must argue the relationship between these factors and the meaning, theme and/or intended effect of the work for that
intended audience. This is accomplished through analysis of the work’s structural and stylistic elements and high level thinking to decide how they
justifiably relate to these exterior factors (ask: which components of the 8 elements are representative of/ a response to/ founded in something in the
world/ experience/ influences of the author?) so you can ARGUE what the correspondence you see shows about what the work means/argues (that isn’t
apparent/clear to an uninformed, even if very excellent, reader).
Tips
Some general sources that might START you on the road to finding sources for historical criticism:
Elibrary is a JHS-paid for source that, I personally think, is more comprehensive and easier to use than ProQuest, including websites,
dictionaries, encyclopedias and other really useful sources for historical criticism searches.
Login off the JHS website (Libraries…Research Tools…Online Databases)
Search engines will allow you to search for other general resources like these with terms like “British literature” and “timeline.” Try
changing/adding criteria that match contextual subjects—like “fashion” or “politics”—to seek out other, relevant information in a condensed
format that will allow you to see the overlap of events, people, art, culture, etc. I searched “American + authors + timeline” and “British +
authors + timeline” and got decent results in Google; then I searched for particular terms (like “Reformism”) and styles/trends/schools of
literature (like “Victorian + Literature + Timeline”) that I saw in these sources—this yielded even better results with more details! Adding “culture”
or “politics” to this search then gave me other great sites that were very comprehensive for a narrow time period/culture like:
http://www.victorianweb.org/history/index.html.
Think like a detective here—follow clues that will yield specific information about your author’s and work’s environment instead of just using the first, most
basic set of information you find about the year or author. My advice? Read the work FIRST and pay attention to what doesn’t “jibe” with your current day
reality (like, “hey, don’t any of these people have jobs?!?” or “Why is everyone so blasé about the leader abusing his power?” or even “If this couple is so
unhappy, why don’t they just divorce?”) then research for the specifics of the time/culture/place that relate (ex: “women and working” for Austen; “political
attitudes” for Hemingway; “divorce laws” for just about EVERYONE before late 1970s in the US!). This is MUCH more productive than simply applying
generalizations you find about a century, decade or…gulp!...culture (Industrial Revolution, anyone?).
Combining historical criticism with a good understanding of literary styles/ trends should prepare you well for the expectations of the AP exam. In
addition, using a historical criticism research and interpretation approach should help me help you keep my promise that your writing and reading for this
class will be “multidisciplinary college writing/analysis” rather than just English-specific (as the other criticism types would).
Be careful, however, not to confuse historical criticism of literature with treating literature as an historical artifact—look at the very problematic warrants of
a claim like “Things Fall Apart represents African folk culture of the early colonial period” when Achebe did not live in Africa much of his life, let alone
during the period of the novel’s setting (leaving aside that it’s fictional, people!).
So…
Historical Criticism
…answers the question:
What do specifics of the personal, cultural, historical and/or literary contexts of the author and audience reveal about a work’s meaning(s) (that could not
be seen without them)?