Monday, February 9, 2015

(PD) Literary tension in dialogue

One feature of any compelling literary endeavor is an element of conflict or tension. This can take many forms: unexpected turns of plot, threatening scenarios, ideological conflict, curiosity and discovery, impending doom, etc. A dialogue with two or more characters who are only in partial agreement, well enough crafted that they remain distinct personalities in the reader’s mind, carries a tiny element of tension, of evolving present or potential disagreement, in every exchange. It also routinely resolves some of the disagreement, providing nodes of calm or satisfaction. The particular issues the characters discuss ride the crest of this interpersonal conflict (kept reasonably low-level, so that they continue to be willing to talk to each other), and thereby commend themselves to the reader’s interest, even if she did not initially think she was curious about them.

A subtle tension of this sort that is internal to the form has advantages not only for engaging the reader, but for the writer’s own process. Forced to shift points of view as one character or another speaks, the writer finds the pressure points in the issues, or in the frameworks of rhetoric and ideology that render the issues hard to resolve. Imaginatively inhabiting each character in turn, the writer demonstrates respect for that person’s views and deep commitments, even while trying to show, alternately, the incompleteness or altogether mistakenness of each in turn. A reader inclined to sympathize with such a view feels the respect and consideration that the author gives to it, both by inhabiting the character and overtly through the consideration of the other character(s), and thus is in a psychological position to reconsider.

There are risks, of course. A less-careful reader, or one heavily fortified against self-examination, might latch onto a well and respectfully drawn character and perceive nothing but uncritical reinforcement for her (the reader’s) pre-critical views. The writer might thereby unintentionally amplify and encourage dangerous ideas merely by articulating them sypathetically, though the purpose is to show their limitations. I don’t know any way of mitigating this risk; perhaps it is simply one that intellectual honesty forces us to take.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Your comment that the characters must remain willing to talk to each other is particularly interesting; whether or not a conclusion is reached, it has to end in some sort of amiable agreement, the characters have to have gotten somewhere. If they're no longer in a state to talk to each other then the whole exercise has proved somewhat pointless, hasn't it?

Matt Silliman said...

Well, I think Plato thought so. But from the perspective of the philosophical content, if we believe dialogue can or should aim at more than aporia, then they would only have to talk to each other long enough to make a sound argument. After that, they could start spitting on each other for all the truth cares...