As I've grown older it's become more and more obvious that I don't remember things the way they truly are. When I was a child, I thought everything was big and mysterious, that there was a new surprise around every corner and behind every wall. Infinite possibility ruled the day, and it was all brand new to my eyes. Now, I'm a lot more jaded, I see far too many obstacles and not nearly as many possibilities. My question is, which perspective is truer than the other?
The same is true about distance in time or space. What seems awful now can be a joke later, and what looks like nonsense makes sense from far away. Optical illusions use this principle to great effect, and so do comedians. When you achieve a different perspective, the image may change completely.
 |
| Do you see the Candlestick or the Faces? |
In stories, perspective is usually about who is narrating the story or how it's shown. Is it first person narrative, or possibly shown only in a single location, or maybe following a group around while the villain skulks in the background out of sight. By controlling the perspective, the author can wrap an audience around their little pinkie and make them jump on command. I'm not talking about jump scares (loud noise and a visual thunk isn't scary beyond the initial surprise). I'm talking about when the perspective is so powerful that an author can create fear and dread simply by suggesting and implying. "You know, there just might be someone listening. Can you hear them breathing behind you? Don't turn around!"
I love that part of writing, when an audience is so in tune with the story that they actually turn and look in real life. It's incredible. Ray Bradbury's "The Thing at the Top of the Stairs" did that to me, and still gives me shivers when I think about it. Memories like that are why I dearly love stories. It's more than just the tale, but it's the adventure and the journey of the participating audience that makes it so special. It's all in the perspective.
- M
No comments:
Post a Comment