Linear Storytelling Research Articles

PROPHETIC VISIONS, QUALITY SERIALS: TWIN PEAKS' NEW MODE OF STORYTELLING

Following the April 1990 debut of Twin Peaks on ABC, the vision - a sequence of images that relates information of the narrative future or past – has become a staple of numerous network, basic cable and premium cable serials, including Buffy the Vampire Slayer (WB), Battlestar Galactica (SyFy) and Game of Thrones (HBO). This paper argues that Peaks in effect had introduced a mode of storytelling called “visio-narrative,” which draws on ancient epic poetry by focusing on main characters that receive knowledge from enigmatic, god-like figures that control his world. Their visions disrupt linear storytelling, allowing a series to embrace the formal aspects of the medium and create the impression that its disparate episodes constitute a singular whole. This helps them qualify as ‘quality TV’, while disguising instances of authorial manipulation evident within the texts as products of divine internal causality.As a result, all narrative events, no matter how coincidental or inconsequential, become part of a grand design. Close examination of Twin Peaks and Carnivale will demonstrate how the mode operates, why it is popular among modern storytellers and how it can elevate a show’s cultural status.

The digital animation of literary journalism

Since The New York Times published Snow Fall in 2012, media organizations have produced a growing body of similar work characterized by the purposeful integration of multimedia into long-form journalism. In this article, we argue that just as the literary journalists of the 1960s attempted to write the nonfiction equivalent of the great American novel, journalists of the 2010s are using digital tools to animate literary journalism techniques. To evaluate whether this emerging genre represents a new era of literary journalism and to what extent it incorporates new techniques of journalistic storytelling, we analyze 50 long-form multimedia journalism packages published online from August 2012 to December 2013. We argue that this new wave of literary journalism is characterized by executing literary techniques through multiple media and represents a gateway to linear storytelling in the hypertextual environment of the Web.

Transgressive Teens

Transgressive Teens Christopher Higgs (bio) Dora: A Headcase, Lidia Yuknavitch, Hawthorne Books, http://www.hawthornebooks.com, 240 pages; paper, $16.95. Lidia Yuknavitch’s debut novel participates in a burgeoning new feminist zeitgeist. To appreciate this emergence, consider the power women wielded in the recent presidential election, voting 55 percent for Obama, while “The War on Women” became a catchphrase attached to comments made by Republican congressional candidates on the topic of rape. In terms of literature, note the recent surge of controversial nonfiction books on women’s issues, including Caitlin Moran’s How to Be a Woman (2011), Hanna Rosin’s The End of Men: And the Rise of Women (2012), and Naomi Wolf’s Vagina: A New Biography (2012), to name only a few. Or the recent critical theory titles engaging similar issues, most notably Kate Zambreno’s Heroines (2012) and Ariana Reines’s translation of Tiqqun’s Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl (2012). Not to mention the impressive number of works focused on the concerns and exploits of young women, novels such as Tamara Faith Berger’s Maidenhead (2012) and Suzanne Scanlon’s Promising Young Women (2012), or Lena Dunham’s hit HBO series Girls (2012). Amidst this swell of conversation, Dora: A Headcase—both an imaginative work of literary realism and a feminist rewriting of, or response to, Freud’s famous case study of the same name—contributes a riotous, pathos-drenched attack on patriarchy from the perspective of a disaffected teenage girl. My first reaction upon finishing the book: if this had been published by one of the Big Three publishers, such as Margaret K. McElderry Books (an imprint of Simon and Schuster, and the publisher of Ellen Hopkins’s wildly popular YA novels Crank (2004), Glass (2007), etc.) it could easily have become a runaway best seller, describable as a contemporary female version of The Catcher in the Rye (1951). And as I will explain, I can imagine the movie adaptation being similarly popular. In fact, the choice to publish this book with the relatively small Hawthorne Books out of Portland, Oregon, Yuknavitch’s hometown, rather than one of the majors, raises interesting questions about the benefits and limitations of independent publishing. For me, the narrator’s voice marks the greatest strength of the book. Yuknavitch’s ear for young adult vernacular remains convincing from start to finish. Take this brief passage from the beginning of chapter 8 as an example: “But check it: lo and behold, just on the other side of the faux indoor garden in the center of the restaurant…like a mini Eden but without the snake…through the shitty ass ficus leaves, is Sig.” The slang, cadence, and references all convey a believable portrait of a particular type of contemporary young woman. Considering the tension arising from the role of silence and the power to speak in both the original Freudian text and in Yuknavitch’s revision, I find it an extremely compelling choice to foreground the narrative voice as the main source of creative energy in the book. By emphasizing voice to the point where it seems accurate to describe Dora: A Headcase as a voice-driven novel, Yuknavitch cleverly draws our attention to the central problematic at the heart of Freud’s study—namely, Dora’s inability to speak as a signifier of her subordinate position within a patriarchal system that sought to silence her and then speak on her behalf—without ever falling victim to didacticism. In other words, Yuknavitch never calls attention to this connection; rather, through its resonance, it becomes apparent to the reader, thus conferring both subtlety and significance. Though I consider the narrative voice the central driving force of the novel, it would be inaccurate to suggest the plot gets buried or messy under the weight of lyricism. Quite the contrary, actually. One of the things I found most surprising about Dora: A Headcase, given my expectation based on Yuknavitch’s previous experimental short story collections as well as her commitment to publishing innovative literature as co-editor of Chiasmus Press, was the startlingly clear shape of its narrative structure. With linear storytelling so conventionally rendered, it reads...

Little Joe (review)

Reviewed by: Little Joe Karen Coats Wallace, Sandra Neil. Little Joe; illus. by Mark Elliott. Knopf, 2010. [192p.] Library ed. ISBN 978-0-375-96097-0 $18.99 Trade ed. ISBN 978-0-375-86097-3 $15.99 E-book ed. ISBN 978-0-375-89707-8 $15.99 Reviewed from galleys R Gr. 4-5. Eli is utterly enchanted with his first bull calf, Little Joe, born on Christmas Eve and destined to become a handsome specimen, maybe even a prize-winner. First, though, Eli has to raise his new charge right, which requires a lot of patience and perseverance. Helped by his knowledgeable grandfather, Eli learns the wonder and lore of tending to his animal, and he also discovers why his father seems so angry and quiet all the time. Straightforward prose, linear storytelling, and ample details guide readers through Eli's year with Little Joe, providing a thorough if somewhat cleaned-up view of life on a farm. The characters are effective but archetypal—gruff father, obstreperous little sister, supportive mother, cute girl next door, rowdy boy neighbor, and especially the infinitely patient and good-natured grandfather—which makes for undemanding reading for those new to novels. With nary an electronic device or magical power in sight, this gentle narrative chronicles a year in a life lived close to the land and full of real responsibilities and culminates with a happy surprise for Eli and Little Joe, courtesy of Grandpa. Give this to tweens drawn to animals but not yet ready for the emotional challenges of Old Yeller or Where the Red Fern Grows. Elliott's soft, homey illustrations add warmth to an already heartwarming story. Copyright © 2010 The Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Winesburg, Ohio (review)

Reviewed by: Winesburg, Ohio Bryan M. Vandevender Winesburg, Ohio. Book and lyrics by Eric Rosen. Music and additional lyrics by Andre Pluess and Ben Sussman. Conceived and developed in collaboration with Jessica Thebus. Directed by Eric Rosen. Kansas City Repertory Theatre. 22 March 2009. Literary scholars have long lauded Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio not only as an exemplar of modernist fiction, but also as one of the best American novels of the early twentieth century. First published in 1919, the slim volume garnered attention and praise for eschewing a linear narrative in favor of twenty-two brief character sketches that reveal the inner lives of the fictional town’s citizenry—their suppressed desires and quiet desperations. This approach to storytelling was both innovative and timely, as it reflected the nation’s fascination with Freudian psychoanalysis and the modernist movement’s belief in radical individualism. While the literati of the period tended to celebrate the book, a handful of notable critics dissented, claiming that its fragmented form, lyrical prose, and taciturn tone were more burdensome than beneficial, and that pinpointing the novel’s weaknesses was an easier task than enumerating its many merits. The same could be said of Eric Rosen’s musical adaptation of the novel, most recently mounted by the Kansas City Rep. The musical offers a colorful portrait of Midwestern life and a thoughtful translation of Anderson’s book from narrative to dramatic form; however, its shortcomings tend to eclipse its virtues and the source material is largely to blame. [End Page 477] Anderson’s stories are decidedly short. The descriptions that they contain are thicker and more detailed than their plots. Moreover, the novel is a collection of isolated and sometimes wholly unrelated episodes. These modernist narrative techniques may have worked well on the page but prove somewhat problematic when forced into the form of a traditional book musical. This is not to say that all musicals require linear storytelling. Shows like Stephen Sondheim’s Company and Assassins have successfully married otherwise disconnected characters and scenes through the use of a unifying agent—a dominant theme, a stable, central character or infectious score. Winesburg, Ohio contains all three of these devices, but none of them are strong enough to support the needs of a successful musical. Click for larger view View full resolution Geoff Packard (George Willard) and James Judy (The Writer) in Winesburg, Ohio. (Photo: Don Ipock.) Of the thirteen characters featured in the musical, each harbors an illicit desire, private shame, or sadness over dreams deferred. Wing Biddlebaum, a former schoolteacher, lives in self-imposed exile after a student accuses him of impropriety. The guilt and humiliation he hides cause his hands to shake erratically. After being abandoned by her lover, Alice Hindman’s desire for love and adventure drives her to dance naked in a rainstorm. Schoolteacher Kate Swift, coveted by the Reverend Curtis Hartman, longs for former student George Willard. These characters gather with the rest of the ensemble for the musical’s opening number and assert that their respective secrets have left them emotionally damaged or grotesque. In addition to starting the musical on a decidedly dour note, the central theme of grotesqueness fails to align the characters effectively. The secrets in question range from the scandalous to the strange to the relatively innocuous and tend to highlight differences among the townsfolk rather than reveal their sameness. Also troubling is the fact that many characters’ participation in the libretto is limited to a single song and short introduction from The Writer, the musical’s enigmatic narrator. Once their story has been told, the characters disappear for long intervals and only re-appear to facilitate transitional scenes and the final choral number. This absence, while conspicuous, is born out of utility as the musical calls for actors to play multiple parts. However, with little overlap between stories and infrequent interaction between characters, it is difficult to determine what the townsfolk share aside from their secrets and a common address. The musical’s central character is fledgling journalist George Willard, who spends his time collecting stories for the local newspaper. But unlike Company’s Bobby, he is not a central figure in every...

MOVABLES, MOVIES, MOBILITY:Nineteenth‐century looking and reading

While one typically associates the phrase ‘moving pictures’ with early cinema, in fact, the term originates with a severely under‐researched nineteenth‐century literary and visual practice: the movable (‘pop‐up’) book. Interestingly, movables share several visual tendencies with cinema, and one early cinema pioneer held patents on both cinematic devices as well as movable books. This article examines the movable book's history in the nineteenth century and analyzes its various approaches to creating movement and depth on the page. Given the movable book's lack of scholarly research, the article draws on visual and media literacy's work on children's picture books plus primary source research on nineteenth‐century movables and interviews with contemporary ‘pop‐up’ authors to formulate some initial theoretical approaches on how young nineteenth‐century readers (or ‘listeners’) engaged the movable book. The article hypothesizes that the nineteenth‐century movable book's method for combining linear storytelling with visual spectacle and surprise may help explain certain visual and storytelling strategies in early cinema. Specifically the article compares the movable's traits with early examples from Eadweard Muybridge's chronophotographs, the Lumière Brothers actualities, Edison's kinetoscope films and early Méliès ‘trick’ films. Finally, the article suggests that certain formal and thematic paradigms in the movable book may even carry over into contemporary ‘spectacle narratives’ evident in Hollywood cinema today.