Oblique specificity of description

[swan_tower]

That phrase probably makes no sense, but it’s the best I can do.

There’s a thing certain writers are capable of: Dorothy Dunnett and Dorothy Sayers are the ones who come immediately to mind, and Sonya Taaffe (she has a Patreon for her movie reviews — I’m just sayin’), but I’m sure there are others I’m not thinking of at the moment. These people are brilliant at describing characters. And what makes them brilliant is what, for lack of a better term, I keep thinking of as “oblique specificity.”

By this I mean something like the “telling detail” writing-advice books are always going on about, but leveled up. It’s the ability to find that one thing about a character, be it physical or psychological, that isn’t in the list of the top ten features that would probably come to mind if somebody said “describe a character,” but winds up encapsulating them in just a few words. And it’s the ability to make those words not the ones you expected: the line that sparked this post is from the Peter Wimsey novel Murder Must Advertise, where Lord Peter is playing a cricket match and accidentally goes to town when up ’til then he’s pretended to be just an ordinary guy. There are lots of phrases I would think of to describe how he starts showing a higher degree of power than he’s exhibited before, but “opening up wrathful shoulders” is not one of them — and yet, it works.

I want to read more authors like this. (Because I want to dissect what they’re doing until I’ve figured out how it ticks.) So: recommend authors to me?

I’d especially love to see this done in different contexts, because one thing Dunnett, Sayers, and Taaffe share is that they’re all writing from a more omniscient perspective than you’d ordinarily see in a modern novel. I think the added distance helps, because description doesn’t have to be delivered through the perspective of a character; not all characters are really suited to that kind of descriptive artistry. Though no examples are leaping to mind at the moment, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a variant of this done with first-person narrators, using the narrative voice to give descriptions more punch than they would otherwise have, but I’m not sure that’s always quite the same thing that I’m thinking of. (Since I’m kind of vague on what exactly I’m thinking of, this distinction is subject to debate.) I think I’ve seen it much less, though, with third-person limited narration, which lacks both the unfiltered individuality of good first-person narration and the analytical distance of omniscient. Then again, maybe that’s just a function of who I’ve been reading. I welcome any and all recommendations, especially if you can quote lines to show me how that author approaches it.

But do keep it limited to description of characters, rather than other things. Scene-setting and action and so forth are worthy topics in their own right, but right now it’s the evocation of character that I’m particularly interested in dissecting.

Originally published at Swan Tower. You can comment here or there.

Comments

[rj-anderson.livejournal.com]

I think Megan Whalen Turner does a lot of what you're suggesting in her Attolia books, particularly THE KING OF ATTOLIA -- she hadn't yet read Dunnett when she wrote them, apparently, but she manages to pull off many of the same narrative tricks when it comes to revealing character in unexpected ways.

I'd also recommend Elizabeth Wein's tragically underrated (compared to her recent works anyway) Aksum Cycle, particularly the books about Telemakos -- THE SUNBIRD, THE LION HUNTERS and THE EMPTY KINGDOM.

Mary Stewart was also brilliant at this, particularly in her romantic suspense novels. There's a minor character in, I think, THE IVY TREE who ended up becoming of my favorite characters in all of her books, just for one scene where he surreptitiously feeds a kitten under his armchair.

[sovay]

There's a minor character in, I think, THE IVY TREE who ended up becoming of my favorite characters in all of her books, just for one scene where he surreptitiously feeds a kitten under his armchair.

+1.

Seconded on all three counts.

[rj-anderson.livejournal.com]

MARRY ME, DONALD SETON. I was secretly hoping he'd turn out to be the main love interest, but it seems Mary Stewart doesn't find vague, affably shy academics nearly as attractive as I do.

[sovay]

I was secretly hoping he'd turn out to be the main love interest, but it seems Mary Stewart doesn't find vague, affably shy academics nearly as attractive as I do.

It's an unaccountable oversight.

(Excellent icon.)

[rj-anderson.livejournal.com]

I see we have similar opinions on fictional men. How d'you do, shake hands. ;)

(And however DO I not have a Lord Peter icon? Apparently the best I can do is a young Leonardo.)

[sovay]

(And however DO I not have a Lord Peter icon? Apparently the best I can do is a young Leonardo.)

Please feel free to borrow this one if you would like! It was made for me in 2005 by mswyrr and stars Leslie Howard.

Young Leonardo is very fine.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

I've been meaning to read Turner forever; this gives me a reason to move her up the list. Ditto Wein.

I read Stewart's Merlin series decades ago, but remember basically nothing. But feeding a kitten under an armchair is enough to endear me to a character even if he isn't well-described. so. :-)

[sovay]

I've been meaning to read Turner forever; this gives me a reason to move her up the list. Ditto Wein.

They are both writers who are incredibly attuned to emotional nuance as expressed in the intricacies of speech and action; Ysabeau Wilce does a lot of the same kind of meticulous work, although somewhat camouflaged in her case by the flamboyant worldbuilding and the narrative's tendency to break out in hilariously horrific disgressions, and that kind of complex interpersonal microattention is pretty much the entire narrative register Katherine Addison's The Goblin Emperor. I think you can find it in Frances Hardinge as well, though I haven't read as much of her.

But feeding a kitten under an armchair is enough to endear me to a character even if he isn't well-described. so.

I really like a lot of Stewart's novels of romantic suspense, which makes them one of the few species of romance where I can say that. I imprinted heavily on The Crystal Cave.

[between4walls.livejournal.com]

For Wein, I highly recommend THE WINTER PRINCE, her first novel, as it is all about the kind of stuff you are describing here. It's written as a long narrative letter by the main character, Medraut/Mordred, to his abusive mother (whom he calls his godmother), and it's completely amazing.

My favorite quote, from when Medraut is asked by another character if he has every loved:

"Yes. Yes. All the wrong things. The hunt, and darkness, and winter, and you, Godmother."

[sovay]

I'm pretty sure I've seen a variant of this done with first-person narrators, using the narrative voice to give descriptions more punch than they would otherwise have, but I'm not sure that’s always quite the same thing that I'm thinking of.

M. John Harrion's first-person narrators are very good at pinpointing the two or three things about a character that makes them tick, even if they are usually very bad about applying the same insight to themselves. Their deceptive apparent reliability is one of their defining characteristics.

Also, thank you.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

I think the distinction I'm thinking of with first-person narrators is that the phrases they use are often more revealing of the narrator's personality than that of the described character -- so it'll be useful to look at some examples where that isn't the effect.

[sovay]

I think the distinction I'm thinking of with first-person narrators is that the phrases they use are often more revealing of the narrator's personality than that of the described character --

Yes. Not just what they see, but how they see it.

so it'll be useful to look at some examples where that isn't the effect.

Much of their shtick is that they sound like objective, dispassionate observers, because they are so good at other people. Spoiler: they're not.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

Much of their shtick is that they sound like objective, dispassionate observers, because they are so good at other people. Spoiler: they're not.

Heh. Yeah, that sounds excellent -- in the hands of an author that can pull it off.

[sovay]

Yeah, that sounds excellent -- in the hands of an author that can pull it off.

I would suggest starting with either of his novels The Course of the Heart (1992) or Light (2002), the self-deconstructing fantasy cycle omnibus'd as Viriconium (2005), or his collection Things That Never Happen (2002). I will warn you in advance that a lot of people I know seem to find him depressing, although I never have; I think his language is lovely (seriously, some of my favorite prose), his sense of character both merciless and compassionate (it depends on who the characters are), and he structures his books beautifully, often so that nested resonances go off on multiple levels at the same time or in short succession and it's just really delightful to watch (you can talk about the patterning in his novels for hours if you feel like it). He does write in the third person, I should point out. But it doesn't make that much of a difference to his acuity with character.

[cgbookcat1.livejournal.com]

This makes me think of Damon Runyon, although he will keep hammering the telling detail as an identifier for an entire story.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

Oof. That part, not so good . . .

[rachelmanija.livejournal.com]

John M. Ford is the king of that. I'll dig up some specific examples when I get home.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[rj-anderson.livejournal.com]

I forgot to add, have you read Dunnett's Johnson Johnson spy thriller / mysteries in addition to the Lymond series? It's still Dunnett of course, but in a totally different historical setting, and the things she does with narrative voice (and particularly how each narrator perceives and relates to Johnson) are delicious.

There are a few wince-inducing moments of the "this book is a product of its time" variety, but they show Dunnett's oblique specificity in a 20th-century context rather than a historical one, which I really enjoyed.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

No, I haven't read those! I'm still (verrrrrrrrrrrry slowly) working my way through Niccolo. Maybe I'll try those for a change of pace.

[adrian-turtle.livejournal.com]

I think Patrick O'Brian is good at coming at character descriptions vividly without always going straight at them. I think it's omniscient or very tight third, but not concise. (I opened the only Aubrey-Maturin paperback in convenient reach. I flipped through and found some incredibly evocative paragraphs, but nothing like "opening up wrathful shoulders.")