PL weeeses “The Elements of Fiction ' Spee us dif’ pot,” eee a ab a flarrative of events arrail ‘in their timie-seqilence. A gait ae ema the eas kop ey me eens feat then died of griet”is plot, The time-sequenea is preserved, but the OF agats, “The queen ded ferone mew shy, was a ws rough ge the death aC ahing? Thi 5 a development suspends the time-seqewce, Poona Set elon the sty iio wih a ly Caer i ah of HE is Pres ae STP he eave SME bales ise oe tek Bee A ante ‘Giiinot be told'to a gaping Audience Of cavemen oF to Mrraafatechan or thee esentutl yc nt eK acd) "and het and then-—" tyey can only sippy curiosity. Buta plot nteligeace aril memory >< Fofster'sligémarks help'us to understand: the edsential nature’ of fictional P “plot: The incidents ofa plot, he reminds us,-however lifelike and “‘réal” they May seem to; the readét,’are not to ‘be confuséd with the kind “of random {ine racecemgrt inlets that punctuate our everyday-esperichée: ordi life we livé:through'a sequence’ of events of varying duration linked only 1¢ temporal-order of their: dceurrence: At the satte-time events that will ulimately conceén us, but of whose very existence'we ateinot aware, are taking *E. M4 Forster, Aspe of the Noel and Related Writings (New York; Harcburt Brace and Company, 1927), pp. 139-151 i : 19 s20 FICTION wve a greater magnitude and signif. Jationship does indeed yon subsequent intelligehce and £ these events ha gical and necessary rel usually only apparent alls upon both place elsewhere. If some o cance than others, and if a lof exist between them, such facts are reflection—a process that, as Forster notes, memory.” ‘The creator of fictional plot deliberately makes such an overview of experi- cence possible. The term pot implies just such an overviews it implies the control- Fae peshigence of an author who has winnowed the raw facts and incidents ane nfispesal apd then arranged theméto suggest or expose their ‘causal rela- tionship. In Forster's example, the moment that grief is established as the _ Hlonshipy the death of the queen, (wo apparently disparate and merely coinci- ‘Gental events become linked together as cause and effect. At that very same deta e heauthor has also radically altered the existing relationship becieen cremeer eillooker and the events themselves. While they remained apparently Unrelated, the death of the king and the subsequent death of the queen were wrote capable of arousing litle more than curiosity. However, once an appeal! thas been made to the “intelligence and memory” of the reader, through estab- lishing a causal relationship, passive curiosity gives way to active participation and involvement. What was once just a story—a direct, unedited rendering Gfexperience—has been rearranged and translated into a potentially interesting and exciting plot. . The Elements of Plot When we refer to the plot of a work of fiction, then, we-are referring to the deliberately arranged sequence of interrelated events that constitute the basic narra~ tive stpucture of amovel ora short story. Events of any kind, of course inevitably Involve: pegple, and for this reason i is virtually impossible to discuss plot in’ polation from character. Character and plot are, in fact, intimately. and Teciproctlly related, especially in modern fiction. In “The Art of Fiction’ Henry Foxe, “What is character but the determination of incident? What is Far stat but the illustration of ¢haracter?"" fn the sense that James intended eo major function of plot can be said to be the representation of characters ie ecflon, though as we will see the action involved can be internal and psycho- ogical ds’ well as external and physical. : Ei er for a plot to begin, some kind of cataljst is necessaty. An equilibrium or stasis must be broken that wil generate a sequence of evens, provide direction to the plot, and focus the attention of the read¢. Most plots __ Briginate in some significant conic. The confict may. be either external, when Fee protagnit (aso referred to a3 the her® or the Joa! characte is pitted. ageinss ane ereppyect outside himself, or internal, in which case the issue to be resolved sone owithin the protagonist's psyche or personality. External conflict may #s On a basic opposition between man and nature (such a3 in Jack London's famous short story “To Build, a Fire” or Ernest ‘Hemingway's The Old’Man sake Sa) oF between man and society (as in Richard. Wright’s ““The Man ‘Who Was Almost a Man”). It may also take the form of an opposition between rene and man (between the protagonist and a human adversary, the anlagonis!), wy for example in most detective fiction, in which the sleuth is asked to match + tn general, protagnit ie a etter term than hero; the later iniplies a set of ad ‘qualities that many protagonists do not have‘The Elements of Fiction 21 wits and sometimes muscle with an,archcriminal, Internal conflict, on the other hand, is confined to, the protagonist, In this case, the opposition is between two, or more elements, within the protagonist's oyn character,'as in, Joseph Conrad's “Heart of Darkness,” when Kurtz struggles (arid fails) to subdue ‘the savage instincts concealed beneath his civilized English veneer. Most plots, it should be noted, contain more than one conflict. In “Heart of Darkness,” for example, while the basic conflict takes place within ‘Kurtz, its resolution depends on Captain Marlow's determined efforts to forge his way upriver into the very heart of the dark continent and rescue, the man whose life and motives have become his fascination (that is, to pit himselé against his hostile natural environment and the barriers imposed by the trading company’s. ineptness). In some cases, however; these multiple. conflicts. are presented in a way that makes it extremely difficult to say with absolute certainty sihich one is the most decisive. Tt should be noted as well that the con! of-a story may exist prior to: the formal. initiation of the plot itscif, rather than be explicitly dramatized or presented in an early scene or chapter. Some ‘conflicts, in fact, are never made explicit and must be inferred BY the reader from what the characters do or say as the plot unfolds (as, for example, in Emest Hemingway's “Hills Like White Elephants"). Conflict, then, is the basic ‘opposition, oF tension, that sets the plot of a novel or short story in motion; it engages the reader, builds the suspense or mystery of the work, and arouses expectation for the events that are to follow. {C. The plot of the traditional short story is ofterrcoriteived of&s moving through five distinct sections or stages, which carr be @agrammed roughily 2s follows: * wee G 1. Exposition 5, Resolution (dénouernent) Beginning Middle End 3 In some novels this five-stage structure is repeated in many of the individual chapters, while the novel as a whole builds on a series of increasing conflicts and crises. Such a structure is found both in such classics of fiction as Plaubert's ‘Madame Bovary andéin the adventure thriers of Alistair MacLean, : Expostrion: The exposition is the beginning section in which the author Provides the necessary background information, sets the scene, ‘establishes22 ‘ “FICTION action, It may also introduce the characters and for conflict. The exposition’ may be accomplished in the case of some novels, occupy an fequire more exposition than ¢thers, A sral centuries ago obviously needs information than a novel with a the situation, and- dates the the conflict, or the;potential in a single sentence’ or paragraph, 6) entire chapter of more. Some plots historical novel.set in a foreign country seve to provide the reader with more background contemporary setting’ Cometicatton: The-complication, which is sometimes referred to as the rising action, breaks the existing equilibrium and introduces the characters wot already been introduced and the underlying or inciting conflict (if they have ni been i by the exposition). The conflict is then developed gradually-and intensified. Crisis: The’ crisis (also referred'to as the climax) is that moment at which the plot reaches its point of greatest emotional intensity; itis the turning point of the plot, directly precipitating jts resolution. - FAuLINc Action: Once the ‘crisis, or turning point, has been reached, the tension subsides'and the plot moves toward its appointed conclusion, Resouurion: The final section of thie plot is its resolution; it records the ‘outcome of the conflict and establishes some new equilibrium or stability (how- © ever tentative and momentary). The resolution is alsa referred to ax the canclu- sion or the dénouenent, the-latter a French word meaning “unknotting” or Highly plotted works, such as detective novels and stories, which contain distinct beginnings, middles, and ends, usually follow such conventional plot development. In the case of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, for example, the exposition is usually, presented succinctly by the faithful Dr. Watson: (One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own hearth ‘smoking a last pipe and nodding over a novel, for my day's work had been an exhausting, ‘one. My wife had already gune upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the door Some time before told me that the servants had also retired. { had risen from my Seat and was knocking out the ashes of my pipe, when I suddenly heard the clang of the bell, ». . I went out into the hall and opened the door. To my astonishment vas Sherlock Helmés who stood upon my step. “Ab, Watson,” said he, “I hoped that I might not be too late to catch you:” —From “The Crooked Man” [1893] ‘The complication comes about almost at once. The crime is reported, and with Holmes's famous “Come, Watson, the game is afoot,” the period of rising action and suspense begins. Holmes, of course, is the Aero-protagonist; Professor Moriarty, orsome other suitably sinister villain like Dr. Grimesby Roylott (“The ‘Adventure ‘of the Speckled Band,” 1892), is the antagonist. For a time at least, the conflict of will and intellect seems almost even. Once Holmes solvesithe crime or mystery, the criss, or climax, has been reached. The suspense and tension drop away, and the plot enters into the falling action, which is devoted to Holmes's detailed explanation of his method of detection. ‘The resolution is= he lements of Fiction 3 short and belongs either to Watson, ("A few words may suffice to tell the litele that remains"—“"The Final Problem,” 1893) or to Holmes: ‘And that’s the sory of the Muigfave Ritual, Watson. They Rave the crown down at Hurlstone--though they had some legal bother, and a considerable sttn to pay before {hey were allowed to retain it Tam sure, chat if you mentioned my name they would Schepers it you Of the monn atau ees Need ted oes is that she got away out of England, and carried herself, and the memory of her crime, me land: beyond the seas.” Smee a to some land beyor i ie ? Musgrave Ritual” (1893) Alhough: the terms exposition, complication, criss, falling action anid resolution’ “are helpful in understanding the relationship among the parts of some kinds of narrative, all plots, unfortunately, do not lend themselves to such neat and exact formulations. Even when they do, itis not unusval for critics and readers: to disagree among themselves about the precise nature ofthe conflict—whether, for-example, the protagonist is more in conflict with society theme is, with, hhimselfor about where the major crisis, or turning point,,of the’ narrative getually occurs. Nor is there any special reason that the crisis: should o¢cur, tor near the middle of the plot. Te can, in fact, occur at any moment. In James Joyce's “Araby,” and in a number of the other companion stories i: Dubliners the crsis—in the form of a sudden illuinination that Joyce sales Sp. cPiPhany occurs at the very endl of the story, ambabe-falling action and the revouton are dapensed wik stogeite, oes ‘and complication ca ‘omitted in favor of a plot that begins in medias res (“in the midst of In much modem and contemporary fiction the ptat consists of a of life” into which we enter on the eve of crisis, and.the reader is left fe infer beginnings and antecedents—including the precise natute of the con fict—from what he or she is subsequently able to learn. oP ate Wann da theyease in such alpmsmetaniat as: Ernest Hemingway's “Hills Like ‘White Elepliants’” and Doris Lessing’s “Wine,” in which the author chooses {o climinate’no« onfy the traditional beginning, but also the ending in ‘order ‘fo focus our attention on a more limited moment of time, the midille which’ {2kes he form ofa single, self-contained episode. Both stories are lightly plot: ted: there is very little description and almost no action. Rather, bok os stances the reader overhears a continuous dialogue between two characters. nor prepared for; but only revealed; the situation and the- "sory are to be ‘understood arid completed through the active part icipation of the reader. Such Stofies'are sometimes referred to as “plotless” in order to ‘suggest that the Bo cheracemPhasis and interest have been shifted elsewhere, mest fequenty to character or idea,’ > ‘vinetlerstanding the plot on a schematic level becomes-ewesranor® difficult “Men dealing with works, usually novels, that have more tee nan plot. Many Rovels contain one or more subplots that reinforce by contrast of parallel’ the * main plot. Some novels even contain a double plot, as in Thackeray's Vahily ccky gare Me a asked to follow the careers of both the self aca see tunes sink, Becky’ lcled by Becky's slow but mevitable decline: FIcTion Selectivity scuude in given work how mach cpa ding how much plot INCU ce episodes are to be relate oe deciding how much Pj how these SPA? Pay Tn. general the shorter co ane indi ee ey come FN ety hat wl be required. The another, the auadgreacer the JEBTCE °F ple, limits the amount of Plot that {he naronrny of the short SY, C7 ment that usually can Be avoiger ih te era, sto, 6h pace tgs at hg ers or ee eet omar No" chat “happened” tthe char lenge net Poel he weader eT short story recording everthi (ames:Joyce once coment ay in the lives of Stephen Dedalus and Leopold g that happened during 2,77 Yin grew to.767, pages and even then cove Big Phe res was Cs) Erconsacing hel, he ues only twenty-one and 2 Pat cor hose incidents that are Mok relevant to the of mecessity Oe hove incidents fe most significant will be emphasized story to Beto, Tha feed dramatic scenes DY a ea idescrip- and expanded re ition. Ouher incidents will BeBe, ‘Telatively less emphasis ton, dialogue tr Eipordinaion. In the JAY Ca shorten ¢ through cfements of the scene of eliminate thet altogether in favor of Sinmary—in favor of telling, rather than showing: ‘All these episodes, major ‘or minor, need.not advance the plot in, precisely the same way OF at-the same, Stee although the reader does have the right to expect that each will contribute , fn some way to a completed story. The Ordering of Plot “The customary way of ordering the several episodes in a plot isto present cae ironologially, that is, to approximate the order of their occurrence ie Gime "ChronStogieal plotting can be handled in a variety of ways. It can be tightly controlled, as im che conventional five-stage detective story sketched previously. This is also the method in’ many historical novels, in which the cepsrate episodes are linked closely and visibly in a firm cause/effect relation- Ship to give the impression of historical versimilitude—"the way it was.” Each episode logically and inevitably unfolds from the one that preceded it, thereby jeneaing 2 momentum that drives the plot forward toward its appointed. resolation. 7 roftological plot structure can also -be loose, relaxed, and episodic. Int” nee Tom ow and Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, the. plots aré po cries of separate and largely self-contained episodes, resembling so many beads on a string. The unifying element is the protagonist, a8 he srander ino and out ofa eries of alvencures that, in shir foray, ini him life and provide his moral education, — third type of chronologically arranged plot is dis 1 novels, such as James Joyce’ at is encountered:in peycholOpire WilintPautanc’s Tae Beng COS Nirginia Woolf's Te te Lighuhus, nt een ee carn and te Fury in which the reader's atsention i gemered on the Drotagoni’ unfolding state of mind as it wrestles with some ac Sanit en ere the interest is inthe passage of “psycholog ‘des of eninunan Bchen acs Prevented through technique called taresra of condcioumess sia semi century interest bn psychology: sree ofa hana ams to give the illusion of overhearing the aca recording the continuous and apparently randomThe Elements of Fiction Be flow of deas, feelings, sensations, associations, and perceptions as they register oon the protagonist's consciousness. The technique is difficult to sustain; and its effectiveness has-been much debated among literary critics, in part because of the burden that it imposes on the reader's patience and perceptiveness. Finally, itis important.to recognize that, even within plots which are mainly chronological, the temporal sequence is often deliberately broken and the chro- nological parts rearranged for the sake of emphasis and effect. Recall the Hem- ingway and Lessing stories cited here in which we encounter the characters in the middle of their “story” and must infer-what has happened up to “now. In’this case and in others, although the main direction of the plot may hegnologiaal and forward, the author ts under no abligation to begin at the bgeimning. Hemingway and Lessing have us begin in the middle af things: other authors may begin at the end and then, having intrigued and captured 1s, work backward to the beginning and then forward again to the middle. {2 aill other cases, the chronology of plot may shift backward and forward in time, as for example in William Faulkner's “A Rose for Emily.” where the author deliberately sets aside the chronological ordering of events-aud their ‘Saise/effect relationship in order to establish an atmosphere of unreality, build suspense and mystery, and underscore Enaily Grierson’s owis attempr to:deny the passage of time itself. ‘| Pethaps the most frequently and conventionally used devicé for interrupting the flow of a chronologically ordered plot is the flashback « summary,or fully {famatized episode framed by the author in such a way as to toake ‘dear that the events being discussed or dramatized took place ¢ sine ot period ° Evaluating Plot Having studied a given story oF novel «6 see how th made use of the elements of Plot, we should be r¢ pain cut meaner ready to evaluate his or tiveness is its unity: the degree “ok fomembering thatthe conventions of pot are pax John Barth makes carn the flowing ang Gk Me soo aon Wii dere tno reatdn ce ston 10 toad thi patern 38 an aise nec byl and en me grenanal becuse gent numbers MEH. ke any other ter of tradition, + by tal and error tha ‘drama or has clear cause « t ermal pater ean boner at aca et John Barth, “Lost in the Funhouse,” ii Pet Salih Fhe tate Per Pin ou, rth eal wee & Company, Ine 1968). pe this particle nan 9 ite, Poie (New “normal pattern© FICTION 28 : Sa ; ‘ode or, ter, about the plausibility about pais ofa given risotto Ae and thei resolution are of the plot ag a whole" "Sr the probable or possible. The vielation of aly lng ow see of tht niga of the readeris a, quality we'often associat LE ot oie sy enidin be grafted on a plot for the ‘convenicl which a happy ending eat that preceded pointed in the opposite direction, ‘Ope Requently used test of plausibility involves the author's use oF cheer (events that occur without apparent cause or sufficient preparat oa rer (ihe accidental occurrence of two events that have a certain correspon dence). Although chance and coincidence do occur in real life, their use in Titerature-becomes suspect if they seem to be merely an artificial device for ‘arranging events oF imposing a resolution. Such, events tenid to #har or even destroy a plot's plausibility and unity. # Analyzing Plot a In approachitig a work of fiction for the first time, we can analyze the plot ‘by attempting to answer such questions as the following: 1, What 1 the conflict (or conflicts) on which the plot turris? Is it exterrial, internal, or some combination of the two? , a, What are the chief episodes or incidents that make up the plot? Is its dévelop- ment strictly chronological,’ or is the chronology rearranged in some way? - 3 Compare the plot's beginning and end. What essential changes have taken 4- Describe the plot in terms of its exposition, complication, in, scion, and resolution. “= . eae. § Isshe plot unified? Do the individual episodes logically relate to one atiothier? 6. Is the ending appropriate to and consistent with the rest of the lot? 7- Is the plot plausible? What rele, if any, do chance and coincidence play? CHARACTER ‘The relationship between plot and character is a vital an jout character, there would be no plot and, hence, novteny: Fe ara readers of fiction the primary attraction lies in the characters, in the eodlecst fascinating collection of men and women whose experiences and adventire, in life form the basis of the plots of the novels and stories in which cs appear. Few of us reach literary maturity without having our favorites: “Teed, Jones and Parson Adams, Rip Van Winkle and Ichabod Crane, Heathcliff, = Eyre, Hester Prynne, Captain Ahab, Bartleby, Becky Sharp, Mr. Miceuber nt David Copperfield, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Fin, Sherlock Hole, ood De Matson, Nick Caray and Jay Gutsy, Marlow and Kurtz; the Tis goes hhuman beings, some who delight and amuse us; others ane or memorable or terrify us. We can sympathize, or even eaanie ean oe ee jemi theit open enjoyment of life, in their doubts and sorrane pres luc and meaning, Other characters onlyThe Elennts of Fiction Fy appall us with their greed, their burning hatred/and desire for revenge, oF their ability to manipulate others for selfish ends. Part of the fascination with the characters of fiction is that we come to know imes too. well. In real life we come to know people them so well, pechaps at ti t er the most part only on the basis of externals—on the basis of what they. say'and what they do; the essential complexity. of their inner lives. can’ be inferred orily after-years of close acquaintance, if at all. Fictionj.on the other. hand, offen provides us with direct. and immediate access to-that inner life—, to thé intellectual, emotional, and moral complexities of human personality: that lié'beneath the surface.-And even when the author withholds that access, he usually provides sufficient information to allow us to make judgments about the internal makeup of the men and women to whom we are introduced. In either case, however, the ability to make such judgments—the ability toiinterpret, ‘correctly the evidence the author provides—is always crucial to our understand ‘itien we speak of character in terms of literary analysis, we are concerned essentially. with three separate but closely connected activities Weare: con ‘cerned, first ofall, with being able to establish the personalities of the characters themselves and to identify their intellectual, emotional, and moral.qualities. Second, we are concerned with the techniques an author uses to create, develop, and present. characters to the reader. Third, we are. concerned with whether the characters so presented are credible and convincing. In evaluating the success: of characterization, the third. issue. is a particulasly crucial. one, for although plot can carry a work of fictior® te FEB 3 rare work whose: final valie,and-imporcance are not somehow intimately connected. with just’ how convincingly the author has managed to portray the characters: Naturally, such an evaluation can only take place within the context-of the navel. or short story as a whole, which inevitably links character:to.the.other elements af fiction. Cains nt Figgas 5 ies to any individual in a literary work. For purposes of analysis, characters ih Sesion are customarily described by their relationship to plot, by the degree of development. they are given by the author; and by whether or not they undergo significant character change. ‘The major, or central, character of the plot is the protagonist; his opponent, the character againstuhowashe protagonist strugglesaneontends, isthe aritago- nist. The protagonist is isually easy enough to identify: he or the ys the essential character without whom there would be no plot in the first place. tt is the Protagonist’s fate (the conflict or problem being wrestled: with) on. which the attention of the reader is focused. The terms protagonist and antagonist do not, however, imply a judgment about the moral worth of eitherfar-many protago- nists and antagonists (like their counterparts in reaf life) embody a complex mixture of both positive and negative qualities. For this reason they are more suitable terms than hero, heroine, or villain, which connote a degree of moral absoluteness that major characters in great fictional works, as opposed, say, to: Popular melodrama, simply do not exhibit. ee : ‘en the title of the work identifies the protagonist: King Ocdipu ‘The Death of lan Miyeh,” "Young Goodman Brown,” Hella Geos otheFICTION 2 | svellow Woman” are exon are examples. But t onist-of Herman Mette: e's Darling, Darling. ‘AsRose for Emilys” 3m rr can be SE nig he protag’ ne AEB ‘enigmatic COPYISY but rather s thy -copyisy Pitre individuat wher, wha —— ‘Scrivener is HOt and benevolent ee tsked £0 cope The ame neither understand nor reach. : vethe angen Bt difficult to identi he antagonit ficult to identity, expect i ing, as with Hi an Mel ify, especially if sayin ‘ieee ee eb Pr iag nest Hemin| s a rte ‘ an Santagg in Ene gon igway’ Man and the Sea. I old fisher i Be inentay og tat Sopa ou with and d id. ‘The protagonist may no! r which the protagonts tae whan defeat es (ay NOt aa geist is forced ah iar Tyee wagons coeated fien;-as in the case ee phen: Grane’s “ jumping oe ea 's “The Bl Jumping Frog of cee me aname e e ae hia the opposite Ceram tceaees enti rs EM Forster Soya characters are devel y is ta Fat chara eet enoay oreo Re rs.are also a very limi , : See ee ead pare eventing as Cee ae on ewe te ro uielat ara wal dcr er Mew’ Tr cle hme contre Tp chara, Ma, Midaybery she ee Naan pentane such really flat suerte, the ove nt and there she is Be a aenenees SBE nd Te my master's house Ori ‘Pmest-conceal wont desert and they Blof Lamuernoor"™ Fledon i y pleteness; bythe: ‘almost always i ac! There se Cate ee ever ey prema ae me Theare is Catly Baldericne Fecurring words th de eee eae is Ball ot sae ioe ng rd they te Eo ir appearance, izable—by thei individ. characters and thet serve a5 Convenisar rehic] "ie their manneriams, by the jotes, they are i deeds are always pr toms 28 i the cast in. ane i grat they te no changed by ware Peotone many of Dickends they appear, but are sisally ie ee cand never vary, for a8 These th pron i ale actors ia the ; for as Forster a ontillado.”” nd anagonit, rep example, rc novels.and stories i pisuapecting Fore hey are beat eet c, Montresor and Fort in-which it cold-bl funato fas etn Ea oa Cre onto ite to be walled up diaper ene, Poe erie Cask oF the jester, compl ge. And Forae eo ieee iene much einer ne led up in his Family cryp, em who leads ich in common with the ki i coype embodies otis: the hard-betled gaia Lind gf ate literal ieised rthresp sed male, epancrs privane ay, Work stock characters wh fool Fin chpaciave ¢ romance, and tes eye Of he Go the Fi who fat characters) roma rate je af te de oh site save ind bad darn mtd ‘aves tincle oF done and again nd it ar cope tachioed villain of old-fa cle’ of domestic comet aol opposi old absence i non "pe opposite. They Hashioned ae coalidat of seen ction are 0 emensional ch ly an 3 aracters thay cna capacity (ae Accel qualities. tally round characes eter of considerable intel us become and itis: iter change. Major tically impr erossed the very complex: ee F, ne dae inated. The jents. Each kind * Forster, o P-GP 104The Elements of Fiction 29 of character has its uses in literatare—witness Poe's successful use of flat charac! ters to dramatize the theme of revenge in “The Cask of Amontillado.” Even, when they are. minor characters, as they usually are, flat.characters often are convenient’ devices. to. draw out and help:us to uhderstand the. personalities of characters who are more fully realized. Finally, round characters are not necessarily, more alive or more convincing than flat ones. If they are, it is because the author has succeeded in making them:so. Characters in fiction can also be:distinguished on the basis.of whether they demonstrate the capacity to develop or change as the result of their. experiences; Dynamic characters exhibit.a capacity to.change; slatie characters do not. As might be expected, the degree and rate of character change varies widely, even among dynamic characters.:In some-works, the development is so subtle that it-may g0 almost unnoticed; in others, it is sufficiently drastic and profound to cause a total reorganization of the character's personality or system of values. Change in character may come slowly and incrementally over many pages and chapters, or it may take place with a. dramatic suddenness that surprises, and even over- whelms, the character. With characters who fully qualify as dynamic, such change can be expected to alter subsequent behavior in some significant way. Dynamic characters include the protagonists in’ most novels, which by virtue of their very size and scope provide excellent vehicles for illustrating the process of change. So-called initiation novels, such as David Copperfield, Huckleberry Finn, and The Great Gatsby, are examples. In each case the author has arranged the events of the’ plot so’ that they reveal the slow ed gai maturing of the. young protagonist coming into contact with the" ‘of adult experience. But'short stoties-can illustrate character change, as in the case of Hawthorne’ young country rustic Robin Molirieux in “My Kinsman; Major Molineux,"? who. Journeys to colonial Boston in search of his kinsman only to uridergo an ordeal. that leaves him on the threshold of maturity. What that maturity consists of, Hawthorne refuses to say, but there ‘can be little doubt that by'the story's ; feuclusion’ Robin thas passed’into and through a significant oom of reality the author's lter=) and conveyed to the reader, 2nd, of ‘course, the kirid of cae hor wishes to tll All these factors heavily {nfluence the technique story the author wish ecively they determine why and how *he, author does Chtine does, And ail these factors are worthy of consideration 1 the course Of literary discussion and analysis. - : rary dthods of revealing character—charactérization by telling—include the following methods. 1 GuanAGtERIZATION THROUGH THE USE OF Names: Names are often used to provide essential clues that aid in characterization. Some, characte given names that «their dominant or controlling traits, as, for example, Fecng Goadman Brown, the naive young Puritan in Hawthorne's story, and ‘Ma Blane, the reserved Easterner in Stephen Crane's "The Blue Hotel” Other characters ae given names tha relaforce (or ‘sometimes are, in contrast: to rir physical sppearance, much in the way that Ichabod Crane, the gangling schodimaster bone 's “The Legeiid of Sleepy Hollow,” resembles Eis eos: legged namesake. Names can also contain literary or historical ausions that aid in. characterization by means af-association: ‘The name “Et 2 fefering (othe wandering lime Burner who, gives his name to ‘Hawthorne's short story, contains an allusion to the mark or brand of Cain, a legacy of gui dat the outcast Brand shares with his Biblical counterpart ‘One must aso, however be alert to names sed ironically which characterize through inversion: Sich the ee with the foolish Fortunato of Poe's "The Cask of , ly must rank with the most, unfortunate of men. ing much of the. burden ‘ion Fiuh showil tions: W ed to infer character Se te ee Although in real life most of of appearance Citinta diacact aré often deceiving, in the world of fiction details af appearance (what character wears and how he looks) often provide essential ges to characte Take fe erample he second paragraph of "My ‘Kinsman, .”"in which Hawthorne introduces his protagonist to the Feader: He waa a youth of barely ei i «atts rat Youth of barely cighteen years, evidently country-bred, and sow. 25 ssc upon i co le wad cou ray cn wel Pia ght wo'a pair of echygy Sammons were ‘durably constructed of leather, and fice tight wo @ Par of serviceable and well-shaped limbs; his stockings of De 72 were the incontroverble work of a mother or a sister. and on his head was 2 es, comered hat which i its beer days had perhaps sheltered the graver brow of th farm was a heavy cudgel formed of an oak sapling, andThe Elements of Fiction 31 retaining a part of the hardened root; and his equipment was completed by a wile’ i 's on which it hung. not so abundantly stocked as to incommode the vigorous shoulders on which it hung. Brown, curly.hair, well-shaped features, and, bright, cheerful eyes were nature's gifts, worth all that art could have done, for his'adornatent / ie alae ok “My Kinsman, Major Molineux,” Nathaniel Hawthorne [1832] The several details in the paragraph tell us a good deal about Robin's chara ter and basic situation, We learn that he is a’“‘country-bred” youth nearing the end of a long journey, as his:nearly empty wallet suggests. His clothes confirm that he is relatively Poor. Yet Robin is clearly.no- Tunaway or rebel, for his clothes though “well worn” are “tin éxcellent repair," and the references to his stockings and hat Suggest that a loving and caring family has helped Brépare him for his journey. The impression thus conveyed by the total para- graph, and underscored by its final sentence describing Robin's physical appear- ance, is of a decent young man on the threshold of adulthood who is making: his first journey into the world. The only disquieting note—a clever bit of foreshadowing-~is the reference to the heavy oak cudgel that Robin has brought with him. He later will brandish it at strangers in an attempt’ to-assert his authority and in the process reveal just how inadequately prepared he is. to cope with the strange urban world in which he finds himself As in Hawthorne's story, details of dress and physical appearance should be scrutinized ‘closely for what they may reveal about character. Details of dress may offer clues to background, occupation, economic and social status, and perhaps, as with Robin Molineux, even a’ clue to’the character's degree of self-respec age and the general state of his physical and emotional health and well-being: whether the characteris strong of weak, happy or sad; calm or agitated. ‘Appear: ane can be used: in‘ other ways-as well, particularly with minor characters jphe are hat and static. By common agreement, certain physical attribyites lave Become identified over a'periad of time with certain kinds of inner psychological sates: For example, characters who are tall and thin are often aseegiated enth, intellectual or aesthetic types who are withdrawn and introspective. Arthur Dimmesdale and Roges ° eters in The ‘Scarlet Letter, share these traits/‘as does the pallid recluse Roderick Usher, in Poe's “The Fall of the House of Usher.” Portly or fat characters, on the other band, suggest an opposite kind of personality, one characterized by a degree of laziness, self-indulgence, and congeniality, as in the case of Fielding’s Parson Adams or Dickens’ Tony Weller. Such convenient and economical shortcuts io sfaracterization afespexteetly permissibles a€-course, as.jong. asthey result in characters who ‘are in their own way convincing, Details of physical appearance carr help to identify a character's,Ficrioy 32 . tr'as we all have, of Peter Brench thay jinions, s¥Ct ver having comimitted himself Ie was one of che secret oPinIOT: og in his never having committed himset aboot fe would have (organ Mallow. subject on — ‘Sed, oft ten ah veracity to quote him, and jen its, tothe best of his Belt POS nesion, on any occasion and in any embaray nowere on record at he 862 rump has is honour even fr ‘ment, either lied or spoken the CT, Ched fifty, who had escaped marriage, who hay of other tiumphs—a man who He oye with Mrs. Mallow for years without brea. lived within is means, wh POT ged mse once forall. He had so judgeg ing it; and who, last not least, Mo snd general humility to be his proper portion; ‘himself in fact that he Te ade fhim think so well of his parts asthe eourse he hag there was nothing ee croc Teered so afen through the oe eee ce Knowledge,” Henry James [1900 ifal, who started with all the advantages, There was a woman whe wes Hove, and the love turned to. dust. She had bona she had no luck, She married OF [OVE upon her, and she could not love then’ stilren, yet she fl tne) ast they were finding fault with her. And hurriedly she Fee eee a cae ful in herself. Yet what it was that she must cone dame tie et Ae hher children were present,'she always fele the the, never bnew. Neverthe ne abled her, ad bs her tanner she yas al be ‘more genic and anous for her children, a8 if she loved them very much, Only she Rwifinen tthe cone of er ear was a ard de place at eould ot not for an eee Osc H iiing one Whase* DLA Japeoielagel In both of the preceding examples, the general orientation of the character's personality has been fixed by the author once and for all—the author provides Us with’a given and then proceeds to construct a plot that illustrates suc charaters faction, naa y' contrast, there are essentially two methods of indirect’ chitracterization by showing: sberartrization through dialogue (what characters say) ne charac. {Grization through action (wie characters do). Unlike the direct methods of characterization already discussed, showing involves the gradual rather than te mediate cc amen of character. Such a process requires ater than active participation of . in what Forster called “ineligence and memorys" ns $0 S04n6 cals upon vids ci SURATION ToveH Diatocus. Real life'is quite lira filled communicating bits sory" talking about themselves and between thetidelves, important or even panier sce? of information, Not all of this information i inconsequential small ta ar? interesting; much of it smacks of the kind of Hl about the personaly ep Meee s2 coca party tll us tefl athe is at ease in social situations Speaker, XCEPL, Pethaps, whether he oF it might occur in reality beatgt: Some light Retion repraduces dialogie she stage set of a daytime television soap opera."Sometimes this background is extensive and highly developed, as in many historical novels where setting— in the form of costume, manners, events, and institutions, all peculiar to a certain time and place—is rendered in migute detail to give a sense of “life as it was.” In other cases, as in many modern short stories, setting is so slight thatit an be dispensed waltinrarsinglé sentence ormust Defnfeired altogether from dialogue and action. When we speak of setting as background, then, we have in mind a kind of setting that exists largely for its own sake, without any necessary relationship to action or characters, or at best a Felationship tha is only tangential and slight. To see whether setting acts as an essential element in the fiction, or whether it exists merely as a desosative and furictionless-batRgrotind? we need to ask ‘Ourselves this: Could the work in question be set in another time and another place without doing it essential damage? Ifthe answer is yes, then the setting fan be said to serve as a decorative: background whose function is largely irrelevant to the purpose of the work as a whole. ‘2: Serminc as'aNftacowist. Often, the forces of nature function as a causal gent or antagonist, helping to establish conffict and to determine the outcome f events. The Yukon wilderness with which Jack London's nameless tenderfoot ties unsuccessfully to contend in his famous story “To Build a Fire” is one example ofa setting thar fonctions as antagonist; the “tumultuous” and “snarl- ing” sea in Stephen Crane's “The Open Boat” is another. Perhaps the most famous example of setting a3 an agent that shapes and determines the lives: : <> terion jas presence is Hardy's ‘menacing gdon i Fy rering “ttartic” Personality of ‘anid fate of tho: ¢ The, ovenPow. Mk Fe « a at ge eau of He Maclin the Gere chapter ("A Face on Which 38 3 4 the Héath is sobs in Metore the render ined "Time Makes But Little " F 19 aracters oF the plO®. ‘i ae ee a ete go fl cee ©, “pie ‘ait’ thorough-Boin foul legitimate indul Taid Bimsele ‘ie in esr thei a beauties Mo far subdued were, at leas, ‘open (6 influetices such 3s these ict days of highest feather & Be eee oe the 1 eee agar of al. Only #8 SUMITT Ty reached BY My tiring wint by vay lene gary. Tncesity "85 FE Ter sy was offer drrived at during winter drkoes, ‘of the brilliant, sucha sor fed to recif oct for te pete wad i tempests, and'mists. Thea it She home of strange phantoms; and it Tove and the wind is end The DNS al the wd FERN of bry wes found wo be the HiBErO UT ys about im midnigt dreams of flight and Tee nape et be CORFE ica ll evel by seems few "Bisaster, and are never thought 1S ream OH reat, Thomas Haid) (188) Le ai’ tral backdrop t6 ction, © Egdon Heath,'as Hardy makes clear, is 1. mere neutral ba ) 0 action, “buts sinister, almost human (oF ever. superhuman) force, intimately cotietted “ith the lives of its inhabitants. Hardy spéaks of the “influences? of the Heath and personifies its qualities (‘the storm was. and the. wind its friend”) to suggest a ‘dominating presence whose influence. is inescapable. As ied ‘well- 0: Rekown critic has correctly observed, “This dynamic-usqohsvene to determine the ives of the characters . . . is technically the most interesting thing in " the book.”* And one might add, it is the most impressive aswell. : 4: SETTING AS AMEANS OF CREATING APPROPRIATE ATMOSPHERE. THOWSS Har ‘ay Egdon Heath serves his, tovel not only.as a causative agent but fs ¢ yee csablishing atmosphere. Hardy, of course; is not alone. Many authors Tnanipulate their settings as:a means of arousing the reader's expectations and establishing an appropriate state of mind for events to come: Ne-author “+ is more adept in this respect than Edgar Allan Poe. In the following passagr from “The Fall of the House of Usher,”, the: narrator first enters’ Roderick Usher's room. Notice how Poe not only provides the details of setting, but tells the reader just how to respond to them: ts “The oom’ in which I. found : site h myself was very large and lofty. The windows were Roger and pointed, and at so.vast'a dlstance from the black oaken floor a8 (0 tig pane ish eae from within: Feeblé’ gleams of encrimsoned light made their way through te tris panty, nd served 5 reider suicienly distinct the more Engles ofthe chamber, i the eye, however, struggled in vain to reach the remote ile fine camber, or the recesses of the vaulted and feted ceiling. Dark draperies hung ypes the als. The general furniture was profuse. comforts, antique and any vitality te the sane musical instruments lay scattered about, but failed to gi"e stern, deep and irredeem: felt that 1 breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. An iF of a gloom hung over and pervaded all. “The Fall of the House of Usher,” Edgar Allan Poe (1839) * edward Wagenknechi award Wagenbnect, Covad ¢f the Eigsh Nooel (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 943)The Elements of Fiction 139 ‘The room, which Poe skillfully makes us both see and feel, is as “inaccessible” and “gloomy” as its owner and as such ‘establishes an appropriate inood that Anticipates and’ foreshadows our eventual seeting with Roderick himself. . SETTING AS A MEANS OF REVEALING: CHlaRacTER. Very often the way in which a character perceives the setting, and the way. he or she reacts to it, will tell the reader more about-the character and his state of mind than it will about the setting itself..This is particularly. true of works in which the auttior carefully controls the point of view. In “My Kinsman, Major Molineux; for example, there is no indication that tite outlandishly attired conspirators, who move easily through Boston’s streets, are confused in the slightest by the city. Yet Robin Molineux, Hawthorne's young protagonist, most certainly —++is. For Robin the city is scarcely real; he is “almost ready to believe that a spell was on him.” The dark “crooked and narrow” stréets seem to lead no- where, and the disorienting moonlight, so perfect for the carrying out of clan- destine activities, serves only to make “the forms of distant objects” fade away “with almost ghostly indistinctness, just as his eye appeared to grasp them,’ ‘As Hawthorne presents it, the urban landscape mirrors perfectly Robin's grow- ing sense of isolation, loneliness, frustration, and confusion. é ‘An author can also clarify and reveal character by deliberately making setting a metaphoric or symbolic extension of character. Roderick Usher's “‘inaccessi- ble” room is a perfect representation, of its owner-occupant. So, too, with . the entire house. As Poe’s nameless narrator rides toward the House of Usher, he'notes its “insufferable gloom,” its “vacant eye-like windows.” the “minute fungi . ... hanging in fine tangled web-work from’the eaves,” its advanced state of decay, and, finally, the “barely perceptible fissure” extending the full length of the house “until it became lost in the sullen waters of the tarn.” As the reader soon discovers, Roderick Ustier and-his house are mirror images of one another. Roderick is as remote and gloomy as the house itself: his ‘eyes, like the windows, are vacant and lifeless; his hair has the same gossamer consistency as the fungi growing from thé-eaves; and there is within him the same perceptible and fatal fissure. Ag the action of the story proceeds to make lear, Roderick and his house fan advanced state of internal disintegration. Setting and character are one;.the house objectifies, and in this way serves to clarify, its master. I is only fitting, therefore, that at Roderick’s death the melancholy House of Usher should collapse into the “deep and dank tarn.”” 5 SETTING AS A MEANS QF REINFORCING THEME. Setting can also be used ‘as a means of | reinforcing S@Peaniying the themes of aneveror dort story. In Hardy's The Return of the Native, for example, Egdon Heath not only serves as'an antagonist and as a.means of creating and sustaining atmosphere, but also as a way of illustrating Hardy's vision of the role of blind causality in an unfriendly universe. Stephen Crane, who shared much of Hardy's belief in Raturalism, ubilizes setting in a similar-way in his-story-“‘The Blue Hotel.” The setting. of Crane’s story is introduced in the very first sentences: ‘The Palace Hotel at Fort Romper was painted a light blue, a shade that is on the ‘ofa kind of heron, causing the bird to declare its position against any background. Get Palace Hotel, then; Was always screaming ind howling in a way that made the maling winter landscape of Nebraska seem only a grey swampish hush. It stood alone“Fctioy, Ae ne snow was, falling the town! two hundred yards ava yay arene pitrid, ana HERTAE ET ieee te See so feeaaible. “pron “The Blue Hotel,", Stephen Crane (1859) , ty discovers that this setting has direct’ thematic rele The, reader: subsea ion cor the relationship between man and nature, vance to-Crane’s conce 3 ha ae the author-narrator makes: clea : ' j as ne eM jh conquering and elate: humanity, but here, with the Wi.picwre the world.as ick SEC hard to imagine 8 peopled earth: One viewed re peer ne cempest PEA" Tet and conceded a glambuy Of wonder 1 tee the existence of man MENTE go a whitling, iresinittet icedocked, diese ste, Hee ech ere ee Fan as ine 2m Us be’ the very engine Soa es acoxcomb not 10 die io | ferent universe, a’man's survival (and, ironically, at & 4 fandamentaly i jepends ani egpacity for self-assertion, much in the dime tthe Blue hotel asserts its Lonely Presence against the stark inhospitable ‘Nebraska landscape A-Note on Setting in Time inmost of the preceding exarapies we have emphasized .the Physic Ps of setting at the expense of the temporal ones. But the time.of day, time of Jean, or period in history at which a. given’ event, oF series-of-events occurs Year oF Perot ate importantly to setting, as in the case of historical noves ‘The fact that the events of Hawthorne's “My Kinsman, ‘Major Molineux” take place at night is ahighly relevant part of the seting, for darkness is {raditionally an approptiate cover for deeds, of conspiracy and violent, In Pocs “The Cask of Amontlado,” the action. takes:place notsonly. in. the evening, but during the supreme madness ofthe camival season’ ithe dark crypts beneath Montresor’s palazzo. Poe could, scarcely.have.conjured; up & weffecth “Seting in which to dramatize the way insanity emerges from beneath the surface Of apparent respectability to’ consumimate its single-minded desire for ver geance. Many of the most:climactic morniénts in fiction: in fact, seem 10 take place at night (a, for example, in the ineeting of “fiend. aorshippers” which Hawthorne's Young Goodman Brown attends in the woods outside his native Salem), as if to suggest that it is after the rést of the world is asleep that we stand.most ready to’reveal the essential truths about ourselves to’the world ee way, certain: seasons ‘of the year lend themselves more ml —_ ids. of events than to others: Poe's narrator-arrives at.the House of ar on dl dark and soundless dyn he autumn of in yea” & period we normally associate with dhe coming of winter and of death, Winter also is ah appropriate setting for the action of Crane's ‘The Blue Hotel,” forthe howling siorm which switlsakiund the hotel-is perfectly in keeping wih the phic Violence that a9 overakes and destroys the Swede. Authors “upielsely because of the ‘of the year and the cycle of the day to establish settings ead Ie: Spring mone traditional association with, the successive cycles in hv- Tien sigh ea Tins Youth; summer-noon-maturtys fall-evening-old 8¢The Elements of Fiction 4t Analyzing Setting 1, What is the work's setting in space and time? 2. How does the author go about establishing setting? Does the author want the reader. to see or feel.the setting; or does the author want the réader both to see and feel it?-What details of the seiting does the author isolate and describe? : re 4g. Is the setting important? If so, what is its function? Is it used to reveal, reinforce, or influerice character, plot, oF. theme? Soe 4v Ts the setting an appropriate onef POINT OF VIEW - A.story must-have a plot, characters, and a setting. It must also have a storyteller: a narrative.voice, real or implied; that presents the story to the reader. When we talk about narrative voice, we are talking about, point of view, the method of narration. that-determines.the position, or angle of vision, fom which the story is-told. The nature. of the relationship between the naygator and the story, the teller and the tale, is always crucial to the art of fiction. Tt governs the reader's access to the story and determines just how much he ‘can know at any given moment about what is taking place. So crucial is point ‘Of view that, once having. beeri-chosen, lor and. shape’ the: way in. ‘which everything ‘else is presented and eter, “and setting. Alter or change the point of view, and you alter and:changethe othe choice of point of view ii’the*choice of who is'to tell the story, who talks to the reader. It may, be,a.naifator, butsidé the work (omihicient point of view); a’narrnor inside the work, telling the story from a limiled omniscient oF first-person point of view; or apparently no one (dramatic point of view)..As we will ‘sce in the subsequent discussion, these four basic points of view, and their variations, involve at the. choice betiveen omniscient point of ‘view and dramatic point6f view—& choice that involves, among other things, the°distance that the’ author wishes to maintain between the reader and story and the extent to which the author is willing’ to involve the reader in its interpretation. As the author moves away from omniscience alorig this spec- {rum of choices, he progressively sisrreriders the ability to see into the minds Jofhhis characters. However, the question ‘of poimuof.wie perhaps toia greater ‘degree than any efement of fiction that we have examined-ve-far, fras complex and complicated as it is important;'the selected categories suminiarized here +"ofly begin to account for the possibilities that readers will encounter in their ‘adventures with fiction. - spe a Commonly Used Points of View 1, Omniscient pom oF viéw. With the omniscient point af view (somietitnes .also referred to as panoranic, shifting, or multiple point of view), an “all-knqwing” narrator firmly, impases himself between the reader and.the-story,and sctains full and complete control over the-narrative. The omniscient narraigr is not a character in the story and is not 3¢ all involved in the plot. From a vantage: Fictioy , lus much or little, to dramatzg eco Ssophize, moralize Ot judge. ty a hilosoy he lc point outside the tO" Tree, speculatts Pcvers are like and: why they behave Point omtarige, to iMeeTPTE™ pe che characters Cg dramatize thein acto directly tds and conve jost thoughts and feeling: or she ean tell us direc 45 they do; record thelr Soe Be acer these minds £0 ePIC ‘move t si re ¥ ne ‘event to the next, being just as Hota Seine i Koo ber gate oe es ici sive) in ime, ir in his hai epic (resid foward eye peaks 0 U8 BS OND on, as he chooses. When th or gentiy that voice WY not be, for the vic Be can we en, hugh a 25 8 ich an identification is the reader, alth c i that els the ston) and ees is Me reteh the author's creation a8 any of the author's ete aor. jn cighteenth- and nineteenth-cen- w*Gmscent narration frequently Seo ckeray's Vanity Fair are good exam. uy novels Felding’s om Joes and | hacker the role. of puppeteer, “the ples. In the latter, the narravcr y seus com offensive an conde Keanager of the Reiformans fare used to more realistic treatment: Ee a a remember. that this history: has “Vanity Fair” for as Co cen cked, foolish place, fll of all sor of Jons. And while the moralist, wha is halding forth fumble servant) pepleasea. to wear neither ‘But my kind reader will pl ‘a tide, and, that Vanity Fair look you, one is bound to 5 a Arar cap sod eae ora ind ei hac and a deal of disagreeable matter must in the ye of such an undertaking. ee From Vanity Fair; William Makepeace Thackeray [1848] In oiir own discussions, we have séen the commentary of the omniscient narra- tor in Crane's “The Blue Hotel,” where- men are compared to lice. clinging to “a whirling, fire-smitten, ice-lockéd,”disease-strickén, space-lost bulb.” In Hawthorne's “My Kinsman, Major Molineux,” an omniscient narrator intro- duces the story with a lengthy paragraph of historical “remarks . . . as a preface to the following adventures” and then suggests that ““The reader, in order to’avoid a long and dry detail of colonial affairs. . . dispense with an account of the train of circumstances that had caused ‘much temporary inflammation ef the popular mind." Though the story that follows is narrated principally men Robin's point. of view, the omniscient narrator is ever in the wings. At fighetsd dimscei, ‘igment he breaks in t6 record the reaction of the moot is: “The Man i neal he, "the old earth is frolicsome ake heard the far bellow. ‘Oho,’ quo! m he ng Dre TeaesnamPle of the omniscient pons of view is found in the following brief, ic it a eee ee Tycho Which occurs near the beginning of Leo Tolstoy's “T* Ivaii Tlych ‘haid beer all. He hed bent mma solleague of the gentlemen present and was liked by the been kept open for hin, 1, NockS With an illness said to be incurable. His post #4 Alexeev might receive hj ut there had been conjectures that in case of his deat? succeed Alexey. So en's, PPointment, and that either Vinnikov or Shtabel woud “ceiving the news of Ivan Tlych's death the first thous