Category Archives: Literary Criticism
On Stories and Storytelling (2)
(Second of 3 Parts)
Obviously, the conflict is the problem to be resolved in a story. If you are familiar with the literature, you know that there are three categories of conflict – man vs. man, man vs. nature, and man vs. himself. Janet Burroway proposed that the following should be included – man vs. society, man vs. God, and man vs. machine. We may also refer to them as sources of conflict.
In one of my literature classes in the Philippines, I told my students to watch the movie “Titanic.” That was when our topic was “elements of fiction.” Students would prefer watching movies over reading short stories or novels when dissecting stories.
When I asked them to identify the story’s central conflict, most answered “man vs nature.” You would understand why that was the answer they gave –Jack and Rose (and all the rest of the passengers) have to survive the ship’s sinking. They were surprised when I told them that there was a dual conflict in the story. There are two sources – “man vs nature” and “man vs man.” While the star-crossed lovers try to figure out how to stay away from the icy water of the ocean, they also have to contend with an extremely angry Cal and his loyal minion Lovejoy.
That’s how clever some writers are. They push their readers or audience closer to the edge of their seats – to the edge of the cliff of excitement – by inserting a conflict within a conflict. With that, they make the “rising action” more intense. When a writer uses multiple sources of conflict, with all the conflicts equally significant, I call it “layered conflict.” (I am not sure if I was the first to call it this way.)
What if the one who wrote the script for The “Titanic” added an extra layer of conflict? Let’s say somebody steals the necklace (“Heart of the Ocean”), and Rose asks Jack if they have to do everything to return it. Let’s say that the thief is a hardened criminal who is willing to kill just to keep what he has stolen. Would the story be more exciting if, while the lovers are trying to survive the unfolding sea tragedy, they have to pursue the one who took the expensive jewel and at the same time hide from Cal and Lovejoy?
I told my students that it would be easier to explain a story’s conflict by starting with a guide question. In the case of the dual conflict in The Titanic, the questions should be: Will Jack and Rose survive the anger of Cal? Will they (also) survive the sinking of the ship?
In another class – Literary Criticism – I taught my students how to trace symbolism in stories. I also used the movie Titanic for the activity. It was easy for them to pick the necklace and explain its symbolism – that the jewel symbolizes Rose’s heart and her love for Jack. They gave nothing more about symbolism after the necklace.
So, I told them that they should not focus only on objects for symbolism. The story – the writer – may try to convey meaning through events in the story. For example, I asked them if they could see any meaning beyond the band continuing to play while the ship was sinking. What about the sinking of the Titanic? What does it convey?
I told them that the decision of the band to continue playing while the ship sinks conveys two things. Firstly, it shows the resilience of the human spirit in the face of tragedy. Secondly, there are people who when confronted by whatever is inevitable, could face it courageously.
And what does the sinking of the mighty “Titanic” symbolize? It shows how helpless mankind is against the forces of nature.
On Stories and Storytelling (1)
(First of 3 Parts)
Do you really know what a story is?
Answer the question before sliding your eyes down to the next line.
Done?
Okay, read on.
Just like you, I know what a story is. I can assure you of that.
Let me begin by saying that I love stories. I am so fascinated by them. Very likely that my having earned the degree Bachelor of Arts in English and my having completed the academic requirements for the degree Master of Arts in English contributed to that. The two main fields of studies (major) in both degrees are English language and literature, but more on literature. We studied, among other things, the different forms of literature – prose and poetry, the body of literature of selected countries, literary criticism, philosophy of literature, and creative writing. Just imagine how many stories I had to read when I was enrolled for subjects like Short Story, Novel, Drama, and Shakespeare. To enhance my understanding of the stories I was reading then, I had to watch their screen adaptation (especially of Shakespeare’s famous plays) if they happened to be available. In short, I became interested with stories, not as a hobby. I studied them. I taught Literature and Literary Criticism when I was teaching in the Philippines. By the way, I worked so hard to become a writer as well. I write dramatic monologues, short stories, novels, and plays. Check my website for some of my works – madligaya.com.
I am so fascinated by the art of knitting together the elements of fiction within the frame of a plot – of how to make sure that the most important element of fiction – conflict – is laid down clearly and passes through exposition, complication, crisis (commonly known as climax), falling action, and resolution. Gustav Freitag, a nineteenth-century German critic, laid this down in what came to be known as the Freitag Pyramid. Crisis – or climax – is at the top of the pyramid. The exposition and complication constitute the rising action which ultimately leads to the crisis. Thereafter is the falling action which leads ultimately to the resolution or the denouement. There are stories (movies) that abruptly ends when the climax is reached. In cases like this the crisis implies the resolution. The resolution is left for the readers to deduce.
When a series of events is not laid down in the conflict-crisis-resolution arc, they are but just that – series of events, not a story. Conflict, crisis, and resolution (call them together as plot) are the necessary features of a story. A narrative, to be classified as a story, requires more than setting, character, theme, point-of-view, tone, and style. No matter how short or long a story is, there should be a conflict, conflict that progresses from the time it is revealed (exposition), becomes complicated, reaches a climax (referred to as crisis earlier), slows down to a falling action, and makes a full stop at the juncture called resolution. Am I right? A writer, as I articulated earlier, may stop raising the action right after reaching the climax to let readers imagine how it ends or create the kind of ending they desire.
In movies (or films), cliffhanger endings have become so popular. In cliffhangers, it can be argued that the story does not immediately end after the climax but somewhere between the falling action and the resolution. There was no clear resolution. It can be argued also that cliffhanger endings are applicable only in the case of standalone movies, not of the serialized ones like the Star Wars, Avengers, and the like. When for example Thanos (in Avengers: Infinity War) snapped his fingers and some of the Avengers were reduced to dust, we were like left hanging and wondering why all those heroes we used to seeing alive and victorious in previous Marvel movies died or disappeared. But it’s not a cliffhanger ending per se because we know that that movie is the 3rd part of the main 4-part Avengers series. We know that the last part of the series is forthcoming. All the Avenger movies, together with all the other standalone Marvel hero movies in previous years, are all part of one whole story.
You might ask, “Where are the events in Avengers 3 located in the Freitag (plot) Pyramid?” It’s in the complication (or rising action part), far away yet from the climax. Your next question might be – “Which part of Avengers 4 is the climax?” It started the moment Tony Starks snapped his fingers and said “I am Iron Man” and culminated at the moment Thanos slowly turned to dust. All the events that followed are parts of a very clear falling action and resolution.
What do you think, am I right not to consider the endings of serialized stories as cliffhanger endings (because of the imaginary “To be continued”)?
An example of a movie that had a climax and a falling action but the resolution was not clear and the audience need to decide what to think about it is the way the movie “Don’t Breathe” ends. (I hope you have watched that movie too… and in case you haven’t, I am sorry if this part of my article will now serve as a spoiler. Just skip reading the rest of this paragraph and proceed to the next one instead in case you’re planning to watch the movie.) The climax of that movie came at exactly the 1:20:43 mark. The blind man, after Rocky hits him repeatedly in the head with a crowbar, falls from the 1st floor of the house to the basement. Part of the falling action shows Rocky coming out of the house alive with the blind man’s money. Later she could be seen with her sister leaving Detroit for California. The movie ends showing that the blind man alive. He survived. And I was left formulating my own resolution… or is a sequel (or a prequel) being planned?
I used to teach Literature, Creative Writing and Literary Criticism in the Philippines. One of my students once asked this question: Should all stories have conflict?
If you were me then, how would you answer?
Do you think a series of events stitched up together in any form can be considered a story without a central conflict?
From Janet Burroway’s “Writing Fiction: A Guide To Narrative Craft”:
“And story is a form of literature. Like a face, it has necessary features in a necessary harmony… Every face has two eyes, a nose between them, a mouth below; a forehead, two cheeks, two ears, and a jaw. If a face is missing one of these features, you may say, ‘I love this face in spite of its lacking nose’, but you must acknowledge the in spite of. You can’t simply say, ‘This is a wonderful face.’
The same is true of a story. You might say, ‘I love this piece even though there’s no crisis action in it.’ You can’t say, ‘This is a wonderful story.’
Fortunately, the necessary features of the story form are fewer than those of a face. They are conflict, crisis, and resolution.
Conflict is the first encountered and the fundamental element of fiction, necessary because in literature, only trouble is interesting.”
Let the foregoing paragraphs be my answer to the question “Should all stories have conflict?”
If a narrative has no conflict, don’t call it a story. Call it a face without any part that should be there – eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, or forehead.
The Confession Wives (Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real): A Review
Admittedly, I got tired watching Filipino drama series shown on Philippine TV. The story lines are so repetitive that it diminishes the element of surprise which is a key ingredient in literary appreciation. Instead of the suspense killing the audience, familiarity with the story line kills the suspense then bores the audience.
Then came GMA 7’s TV series “The Confession Wives” (“Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real”). It’s a story about a philandering husband who married another woman. After going over its synopsis, I said “nothing new.” So, I did not bother to watch… until my wife asked me to find on You Tube the episodes of the said TV drama that she missed. With nothing else to do I decided to peep on what she’s watching. Result: For the first time in years that I eagerly watched a Filipino drama series.
How many times have we watched a movie and TV…
View original post 1,012 more words
The Confession Wives (Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real): A Review
Admittedly, I got tired watching Filipino drama series shown on Philippine TV. The story lines are so repetitive that it diminishes the element of surprise which is a key ingredient in literary appreciation. Instead of the suspense killing the audience, familiarity with the story line kills the suspense then bores the audience.
Then came GMA 7’s TV series “The Confession Wives” (“Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real”). It’s a story about a philandering husband who married another woman. After going over its synopsis, I said “nothing new.” So, I did not bother to watch… until my wife asked me to find on You Tube the episodes of the said TV drama that she missed. With nothing else to do I decided to peep on what she’s watching. Result: For the first time in years that I eagerly watched a Filipino drama series.
How many times have we watched a movie and TV drama about unfaithful husbands? How many times have we read stories about men not contended with their wives so they resorted to having extra-marital affairs? We know that when the wife learned about it all hell breaks loose. We know that when men got caught they had to choose between their wives and their other women.
The foregoing is also what GMA’s “Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real” is all about. Familiar situations yet the story, generally, succeeded in veering away from becoming predictable. Every scene, actually, is climactic stuffed with twists and turns. Watching it is like riding an emotional roller coaster.
Elements of the rising action are beautifully put together as the story geared towards the climax. The climax itself was something unexpected. I have a penchant on rightly guessing how things would turn out in a story but this one had me wrong several times.
Yes, same story line but delivered differently.
Different not because the actors and actresses, if I may use an oft-repeated phrase, “gave justice to their roles.” This is no longer surprising. It is a given. These people are trained to act out roles.
It is different because the whole story is a realistic rendition of life. And this is exactly what literature is… a faithful reproduction of life.
Characterization and dialogue are consistent with literary realism. The story as a whole presented universal truths about men and women, about family and society making it acceptable even to international audience.
Anthony (Ding-dong Dantes), the husband, is the embodiment of the popular belief about men – “that men are polygamous in nature.” Henry (Robert Arevalo) and Tino (Tommy Abuel), fathers of the two women married by Anthony, are themselves not clean. Both of them have had extra-marital affairs themselves. Among men in many parts of the world, womanizing seems to be a natural thing.
But the story also presents the good side of the male specie through Jun (Jaime Fabregas), a disciple of monogamy. He is a loving husband to his wife Sonia (Conie Reyes) and a supportive father to Anthony. Chaos descended upon his family for all the troubles created by his son yet he keeps his family above water. He was the glue that keep his family together.
On the other hand, Millet (Maricel Soriano) is an epitome of a martyr wife. While almost violently that she reacted to her husband’s infidelity, while she was offended to the utmost upon learning that Anthony married another woman, she forgave him. That’s how wives are, they always stand by their men. As much as possible they must preserve the famiy. Umeng (Susan Africa), the mother of the other Mrs. Real, Shiela (Lovi Poe) also chose to stick by her husband, Tino, even if she discovered that the latter, just like Anthony, had another woman and actually fathered a child.
Millet and the other Mrs. Real, Shiela (Lovi Poe) and her mother Umeng (Susan Africa) represent women who are at the receiving end of an ongoing notion that it is okay for a man to have another woman. Like many women in society, they unwillingly embrace the dictum that men will always be men. Or maybe they are drowned by fear that life may not go on without their husbands.
Aurora (Celeste Legazpi) and Sonia (Conie Reyes) are the typical mothers protective of their children. They are pained to see their children suffer and they would do anything to alleviate their suffering.
In real life, we criticize people for the things they say and do. We do the same in the drama series, we pass judgment on the characters.
We approved the positions taken by each of the families affected. They did what they needed to do to protect their loved ones.
But while we expressed sympathy for some characters, most especially Millet, we criticized some. The harshest criticism fell, not on Anthony, but perhaps on Henry.
Why not on Anthony? He is the most sinful of all the characters. He caused all the troubles. But why was he not crucified. To err is human to forgive is divine. Anthony committed mistakes but tried to correct them. He tried to put things in order thereby earning the forgiveness and sympathy of the viewers.
And why on Henry? Because he is so unforgiving. He plays his moralism to the extreme. He did not forgive Anthony and sued him for bigamy despite the pleas made by his wife and his daughter and Anthony’s mother.
When Millet fell into depression we considered it to foreshadow the possibility of Henry finally forgiving Anthony. But the story did not give the audience what it expected. Millet getting ill all the more strengthened Henry’s resolve to go hard against Anthony. The case Henry filed prospered.
The viewers disliked Henry for such a hardline stance, although it was out of love for his daughter that he ought to do what he did. Any father would want to punish anybody who would hurt their children.
While Anthony went into catharsis starting from the moment he got caught for his infidelity and culminating in what he did during the trial when he retracted from his “not guilty plea” declaring his willingness to go to prison and be punished for his wrongdoings for the troubles he created that even led to his father’s death, Jaime on his part, took until the time that Anthony finished serving his prison time to have his own catharsis and finally forgive him.
The hatred and passion for revenge simmered down as the story march to its denouement. There was reconciliation and acceptance at the end. “All’s well that ends well!”
The lesson is clear, when you do something wrong, brace for the consequences.
The TV drama may have changed the way people look at the plight of women crying a river while languishing helplessly in the shadows of their husbands’ infidelity. It may have also sent a clear signal to Anthonys out there that they could be chewing more than they could swallow.
Real Life and GMA’s “Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real”
Admittedly, I got tired watching Filipino drama series shown on Philippine TV. The story lines are so repetitive that it diminishes the element of surprise which is a key ingredient in literary appreciation. Instead of the suspense killing the audience, familiarity to the story line killed the suspense then bored the audience.
Then came GMA’s “Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real.” It’s a story about a philandering husband who married another woman. After going over its synopsis, I said “nothing new.” So, I did not bother to watch, until my one and only “Mrs. Real” asked me to find on You Tube the episodes of the said TV drama that she missed. With nothing else to do I decided to peep on what she’s watching. Result: For the first time in years that I eagerly watched a Filipino drama series.
How many times have we watched a movie and TV drama about unfaithful husbands? How many times have we read stories about men not contended with their wives so they resorted to having extra-marital affairs? We know that when the wife learned about it all hell breaks loose. We know that when men got caught they had to choose between their wives and their other women.
The foregoing is also what GMA’s “Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real” is all about. Familiar situations yet the story, generally, succeeded in veering away from becoming predictable. Every scene, actually, is climactic stuffed with twists and turns. Watching it is like riding an emotional roller coaster.
Elements of the rising action are beautifully put together as the story geared towards the climax. The climax itself was something unexpected. The writer seems to have a penchant on giving clues on how things would turn out in the story and but would present something not expected.
Yes, same story line but delivered differently.
Different not because the actors and actresses, if I may use an oft-repeated phrase, “gave justice to their roles.” This is no longer surprising. It is a given. These people are trained to act out roles.
It is different because the whole story is a realistic rendition of life. And this is exactly what literature is…a faithful reproduction of life.
Characterization and dialogue are consistent with literary realism. The story as a whole presented universal truths about men and women, about family and society making it acceptable even to international audience.
Anthony (Ding-dong Dantes), the husband, is the embodiment of the popular belief about men – “that men are polygamous in nature.” Henry (Robert Arevalo) and Tino (Tommy Abuel), fathers of the two women married by Anthony, are themselves not clean. Both of them have had extra-marital affairs themselves. Among men in many parts of the world, womanizing seems to be a natural tendency.
But the story also presents the good side of the male specie through Jun (Jaime Fabregas), a disciple of monogamy. He is a loving husband to his wife Sonia (Conie Reyes) and a supportive father to Anthony. Chaos descended upon his family for all the troubles created by his son yet he keeps his family above water. He was the glue that keep his family together.
On the other hand, Millet (Maricel Soriano) is an epitome of a martyr wife. While almost violently that she reacted to her husband’s infidelity, while she was offended to the utmost upon learning that Anthony married another woman, she forgave him. That’s how wives are, they always stand by their men. As much as possible they must preserve the famiy. Umeng (Susan Africa), the mother of the other Mrs. Real, Shiela (Lovi Poe) also chose to stick by her husband, Tino, even if she discovered that the latter, just like Anthony, had another woman and actually fathered a child.
Millet and the other Mrs. Real, Shiela (Lovi Poe) and her mother Umeng (Susan Africa) represent women who are at the receiving end of an ongoing notion that it is okay for a man to have another woman. Like many women in society, they unwillingly embrace the dictum that men will always be men. Or maybe they are drowned by fear that life may not go on without their husbands.
Aurora (Celeste Legazpi) and Sonia (Conie Reyes) are the typical mothers protective of their children. They are pained to see their children suffer and they would do anything to alleviate their suffering.
In real life, we criticize people for the things they say and do. We did the same in the drama series, we passed judgment on the characters.
We approved the positions taken by each of the families affected. They did what they needed to do to protect their loved ones.
But while we expressed sympathy for some characters, most especially Millet, we criticized some. The harshest criticism fell, not on Anthony, but perhaps on Henry.
Why not on Anthony? He is the most sinful of all the characters. He caused all the troubles. But why was he not crucified. To err is human to forgive is divine. Anthony committed mistakes but tried to correct them. He tried to put things in order thereby earning the forgiveness and sympathy of the viewers.
And why on Henry? Because he is so unforgiving. He plays his moralism to the extreme. He did not forgive Anthony and sued him for bigamy despite the pleas made by his wife and his daughter and Anthony’s mother.
When Millet fell into depression we considered it to foreshadow the possibility of Henry finally forgiving Anthony. But the story did not give the audience what it expected. Millet getting ill all the more strengthened Henry’s resolve to go hard against Anthony. The case Henry filed prospered.
The viewers disliked Henry for such a hardline stance, although it was out of love for his daughter that he ought to do what he did. Any father would want to punish anybody who would hurt their children.
While Anthony went into catharsis starting from the moment he got caught for his infidelity and culminating in what he did during the trial when he retracted from his “not guilty plea” declaring his willingness to go to prison and be punished for his wrongdoings for the troubles he created that even led to his father’s death, Jaime on his part, took until the time that Anthony finished serving his prison time to have his own catharsis and finally forgive him.
The hatred and passion for revenge simmered down as the story march to its denouement. There was reconciliation and acceptance at the end. “All’s well that ends well!”
The lesson is clear, when wrongdoings are committed, brace for the consequences.
The TV drama may have changed the way people look at the plight of women crying a river while languishing helplessly in the shadows of their husbands’ infidelity. It may have also sent a clear signal to Anthonys out there that they could be chewing more than they could swallow.
