A History of Story-telling: Studies in the development of narrativeRansome, Arthur
History
A History of Story-telling: Studies in the development of narrative
Ransome, Arthur
Fiction -- History and criticism; Narration (Rhetoric); Storytelling -- History
Here, of course, he is exaggerating actual fact to make his meaning
more clear; but I am sure that even the exaggeration is deliberate.
If he did not literally work in that way he certainly worked in that
spirit. A writer of Poe's fertility of imagination would be at least
biassed in choosing his effect by consideration of material already in
his head. But, the effect once chosen, he left nothing to chance. He
would never, like the older story-tellers, allow himself to be carried
away by a wave of his own emotion. He stands beside de Maupassant and
the conscious artists of the latter half of the nineteenth century. His
emotional material is never emptied carelessly in front of the reader.
Chosen scraps of it are laid before him, one by one, in a chosen order,
producing a more powerful effect than the unrestrained discharge of the
whole. The first sentences of one of his stories prepare its readers
for the atmosphere demanded by its conclusion. In _The Masque of the
Red Death_, for example, revolting horror is the emotion on which he
built. So, from the terrible opening lines, 'The Red Death had long
devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal and so
hideous. Blood was its Avatar and seal--the redness and the horror of
blood. There were sharp pains and sudden dizziness, and then profuse
bleeding at the pores, with dissolution ...' to the end, 'And now was
acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in
the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed
hall of their revel, and died, each in the despairing posture of his
fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last
of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and
Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all,' we are led
on through consciously created disquietude and terror. How menacing
is the sentence that immediately follows the prelude: 'But the Prince
Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious.' We feel at once that
the shadow of death is at his elbow.
[The detective stories.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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