Monday, November 3, 2014

OOC: Post-Arc Commentary

So, this is one of my rare OOC posts.  Sometimes, either because of the nature of RP in Eve being largely confined to player channels and my own discomfort with translating those chat logs into a narrative (mostly because I don't want to impart any 3rd person omniscient characterization to some other person's character), I do it for expository reasons, to fill in the holes between my blog posts.  Other time, such as this one, I use it to provide some commentary or analysis after an arc has come to fruition.  One way I continue to challenge myself as a writer is to go back and read my posts through the lens of literary analysis, not as an author but as a reader.  I try to determine whether or not my writing has been effective in conveying the information that I intended.  Sometimes it has, other times not.  In reviewing my most recent arc, there were some tropes and archetypes I used pretty liberally.

I played with the trope of the Freudian Trio pretty heavily.  For those unfamiliar, a Freudian Trio is a trio of characters that represent the Id, Ego, and Superego of Freudian psychology.  These aren't necessarily ironclad.  For sci-fi types, which is not a small percentage of you, I imagine, this is almost perfectly exemplified in the trio of McCoy, Kirk, and Spock.  Spock is practically the embodiment of superego.  Kirk is ego.  McCoy is id.  For a more current example, the tv show Firefly has this as well: Mal - Ego, Zoe - Superego, Jayne - Id.  This can also be adapted to concepts rather than characters, such as the pathos (ego), logos (superego), and eros (id) trio from philosophy.  Interestingly, the holy trinity of many Christian sects does not correspond to the Freudian trio, probably since there's no divine corollary to the Id, which is really all about base human instincts and drives, something not likely to be found in a symbol of divine perfection.

In the case of my recent arc: Ryven - Superego, Leela - Ego, Dark Ry - Id.  Though they sometimes flip from one to the other.  

Ryven is the personification of cultural norms and mores.  Dark Ryven is the personification of human drives and instinct.  His focus is almost hedonistic.  Sadistic hedonism to be sure, but hedonism nonetheless.  Leela, on the other hand, is trying to restore the balance between the Id and Superego, to nullify the greatest excesses of the Id while bringing the Superego out of the clouds and into reality.  That she is literally trying to trap the Id in a noncorporeal state of subjugation and literally trying to bring the Superego out of the pure mind state and into the corporeal real world is a mixture of both plot and symbolism.  Her actions are obviously plot driven, but it serves as a metaphor for the function of the ego in injecting the reality principle into Id/Superego conflict.  

So, now, the post Dark Ry Ryven has been brought back into a state of near homeostasis in regards to his psyche, but is racked by guilt and also fear of his Id.  His superego is functioning, as he has internalized all of the cultural norms and morality.  His ego is doing its job.  But, his id is another issue entirely.  The conflict going forward will largely explore his relationship with his own Id expressed through his own struggles with the horror of Dark Ry and his recognition that despite his being a false personality injected into the mind of the original Ryven, he is also Ryven, which means he still has the potential for horrifying acts of violence.  His struggle is coming to terms with his own innate base human impulses and instincts, his own capacity for hedonism. 

There's also the obvious issue of atoning for his actions and moving forward with a new set of foundational realities.  Dark Ryven has always been a part of him.  Now he isn't.  His personality will be similar to how it was before, but also completely different.  He's gone through the fires of hell, so to speak, and like Dante, is climbing up Mt. Purgatory. (Yes, I'm alluding to Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, specifically The Inferno and The Purgatorio, which I'd recommend reading, if you haven't, if only because they're fairly interesting for Renaissance era Italian poetry).  

I always want to say that I tend to follow Kurt Vonnegut's 8 rules for writing fiction fairly strictly.  If you're not aware of them, they are: 

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted. 
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for. 
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water. 
4. Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action. 
5. Start as close to the end as possible. 
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of. 
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia. 
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages. 
(From: http://www.writingclasses.com/InformationPages/index.php/PageID/538)

Rules #2, 3, 4, and 6 are the ones I spend the most time on.

I have tried to craft my characters in such a way that even if they aren't easy to relate to, you at least want them to succeed.  Ryven and Leela are characters that I personally root for, and I hope that shows in my writing.  

Every character I write has something they want.  None of them are really jonesing for a drink of water, but every one of them has a motivation of some sort (though, Leela's is not always known, which is really because her's tends to be based on whatever Ryven's crisis of the month is, although sometimes her desire is something akin to "not to die horribly at the hands of her kidnappers.")  Dark Ry's obsession with taking pure holographic form was such a motivation.  The evil implications are not inherently obvious, but it suffices that he has a motive, even if his actions are not always consistent with that motive.

I try not to waste sentences.  Every sentence I write aims to achieve one or the other of the purposes of advancing plot or expanding character.  Occasionally, I use it to describe setting, but even that can have subtle implications toward characterization.  Locations can be characters (see Firefly and the way Serenity is basically the 11th character on the show; the 12th is River's feet).  

Lastly, I don't think anyone would ever accuse me of coddling my characters.  I am a sadist to them.  It's true.  I've had conversations with Shalee about this very principle.  None of my characters are sweet or innocent, but I have spent a lot of time causing them as much pain as I could contrive at any given time.  I agree with Vonnegut.  You learn nothing from a happy character.  In conversations with Shalee, we both noted that happy relationships are fairly dull.  They don't make good stories.  This is why so few movies/books/tv shows/etc. feature extremely happy couples.  They're all about getting the girl/boy, getting the girl/boy back, or getting rid of the girl/boy, sometimes by murdering them and skipping away gleefully (there should be more of this last category, which is, I feel, an underrepresented sub-genre of romantic fiction, honestly). 

Anyway, as always, leave any comments you like.  I've got 123 posts, counting this one, and only 8 comments in the entire history of my blog.  4500 pageviews and only 8 times someone felt like sharing any thoughts or criticism.  

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