Literature has many important aspects, but without characters, we haven't got much of
a story.
However, just having flat, boring characters isn't enough.
Sure, the bunny on the hill is a cute character.
Maybe he nibbles some grass, or maybe he hops around a little bit.
But it is when the hawk swoops down and grabs that bunny mid-nibble that things start to
get a little more interesting.
"But wait!"
you say.
"That's not characterization!
That's conflict!"
Look how smart you are!
Realize, though, that within that conflict is packed details about those two characters
-- the bunny and the hawk.
Through my descriptions of the action, we know that the bunny is a cute nibbler, defenseless
enough against the hawk, and we know that the hawk is strong enough to lift the bunny,
and fast and stealthy enough to grab him and fly away without stopping to discuss it over
a shared blade of grass and cup of clover tea.
These character-istics, among others, allow the conflict to exist between the bunny and
the hawk.
So, there are two types of characterization.
Now, let's pull out an example of the first type:
"The thing in the bedroom corner was not tall.
It came up maybe waist high, but I knew it was the same one from my room back home.
It watched me all the time, just like before.
It paced at night, sighing by my face, walked on top of the ceiling while my wife slept."
Here, we get a direct characterization of "the thing" in the narrator's bedroom.
Let's pull out all the things we know: It stays in the bedroom corner
It's not tall It's maybe waist high
It's the "same one" as before It watches the narrator
It paces at night It sighs by his face
It walks on the ceiling, apparently at night while the narrator's wife sleeps
So, the first type of characterization is direct characterization.
This form of characterization is easiest for authors and readers, because the narrator/speaker
tells the reader directly about a character, and the reader has little to no guesswork
to do.
Using the same passage, let's see if we can draw the same number of conclusions about
the narrator.
Where does the narrator stay?
How tall or short is he?
Is it a he?
What does the narrator do while "the thing" is watching and/or sighing?
What does the narrator do while "the thing" paces and his wife sleeps?
The same conclusions are impossible to draw, but we can draw some other less obvious conclusions.
The narrator has moved far enough away from his former home to call it "back home" (whatever
that means) He's possibly been watched by "the thing"
before, presumably back home He's presumably staying up all or most of
the night to know that "the thing" paces, and that his wife is sleeping during this
Since he's having trouble sleeping, the presence is an uncomfortable one, though he doesn't
say it's necessarily evil His wife is apparently oblivious to "the thing"
since she can sleep through all this "The thing" isn't watching the wife, or if
it is, no one is noticing
This type of characterization where we have to make inferences is called indirect characterization.
Notice how I used words like "presumably" and "apparently" and "possibly" -- all conditional
words that reside in the abstract.
Now, characterization isn't strictly made up of direct vs. indirect.
It is also made up of what some people call round vs. flat characters, or complex vs.
simple, or developed vs. static, or any combination of these.
What it all boils down to is that some characters are very developed, and some aren't.
Just like in real life, we get to know some characters better than we get to know others.
Let's look at Lord of the Flies.
Hopefully, you were all forced to read that novel at some point.
Boys stranded on an island, Ralph, Jack, Piggy, Simon, the Conch, pig head on a stick, murder,
that sort of thing.
We get to know protagonist Ralph and antagonist Jack fairly well.
However, I bet you hardly remember the boy with the mulberry birthmark.
I actually had to look him up for this video to make sure "mulberry" was the right color,
and I've read the novel multiple times.
He's mentioned a couple of times, in passing, as being one of the first boys to disappear.
In many cases, flat, minor characters don't need much development.
They exist merely as plot devices to move the story forward, or, in the case of the
boy with the mulberry birthmark, they act as cautionary tales for future chapters.
In Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, you will encounter colorful characters telling stories that are
sometimes difficult to believe, but the stories that they tell are stories that are meant
to reveal something about their characters.
Notice how the tale that you choose gives depth to the character of the pilgrim telling
it.
What does the pilgrim value?
What does the pilgrim condemn or belittle?
What lesson does the pilgrim convey, if any?
What does the individual tale reveal about the pilgrim telling it?
Happy reading!