In reading the” Labrador Fiasco” from Margaret Atwood’s Moral Disorder, there was an endearing
simplicity to the way she told the story. Nonetheless, it is clear that there
is an interweaving and complex sense of development in the story, but somehow
the reader is never allowed to acknowledged just how well developed the progression
of events, external and inscribed into the story’s world, because it has a
linearity and familiarity that would denote a sense of comfort. For instance,
there is the story within the story, the bedtime story that is told of the
adventurers to the father, which is completely linear. Two men decide to go on
an adventure, they hire a guide, they ignore the consultation of the guide who
has seemed to receive divine direction, they eventually fall prey to the
hardships of nature’s cruel brutality, and everyone but the guide dies, albeit
peacefully one could say. Then there is the real story presented, that of an
old man desperately trying to make sense of the bitterness of old age and the
closing chapters of his life, his own Labrador Fiasco, as Atwood reconnects
small tidbits of the past into the character, a shell of a man, which is
presented in the telling. And it is not merely through direct details that the
audience is given an understanding of this man’s past life, but the backstory
is read through just his interactions with the story being told, suggesting
that either he knew people similar to these men or that quite possibly he was
in a situation like those men. Then, of course, there are pieces of backstory
told through observations concerning his seizure, the details given about his
characteristics embodying a strong display of ‘show and not tell’. It was incredibly halcyon at times given the
gloomy nature of the story, the uncertain and hazy ending given that gives no
appeasement to the audience as to what will occur to the father, but such a
boon was given through the finer manipulations with the story’s development,
interrupting the grim story of cocky young men with memories of the father when
he was once so as well. These memories were given through a prop device, the
same book they read these stories from also contained in the back pictures and
notes from the father, again suggesting a personal connection to the three
characters of the Labrador story.
What
I could perhaps gain to learn from this story is how to utilize details, small
descriptions and subtle cues to suggest plot devices or backstories, to make
seemingly innocent items weave intricate plotlines. There doesn’t necessarily
have to be an outright inference to an event that has occurred or a verbal
connection to an event, because just through the back and forth repartee of the
father’s memories and the story being told, his interrupting comments and snide
remarks, we have received a better understanding of not just his character but
of his past as well. One that establishes the tone of the story very well, all
without saying much and never giving itself as a heavy hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment