Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A reading from the Book of Dialogue, chapter 1

In reading the dialogues, I noticed that most of them were good examples of something that I find very difficult: writing characters that listen to each other and react naturally. The best example of this was in the Closer dialogue. The two couples were splitting up, but it wasn’t under jovial conditions. Larry and Anna had a very compelling dialogue to finish the pages, and each question brought on more and more anger to Larry. He kept delving deeper and deeper into the sexual exploits of Anna and Dan, and every fact made him want to ask more. A natural progression within the dialogue that leads to heavy emotional responses is a difficult thing to create, but closer did it very well.

The Death of a Salesman dialogue had a similar quality, but highlighted some different facets of dialogue that smack of realism. The status of a character dictates his words and actions in a scene. Willy had to keep himself in check throughout the interview, while Howard seemed fairly bored and apathetic. The words in the scene reflected exactly the statuses of the characters. The use of status permitted the scene to take on an additional element of realism, and allowed the readers to invest themselves in the dialogue. I have seen scenes before that called for one of the employees to berate their boss, which typically doesn’t happen. The scene made me feel more uncomfortable than interested because status wasn’t being respected.

In dialogue, I have noticed a slice of fantasy. Not supernaturality, but fantasy in the wording. When I was first getting into plays I absolutely hated Neil Simon and Tennessee Williams because I kept saying to myself “nobody would say that!” when the characters would act. I am just now realizing that plays and playwriting aren’t trying to show us the real world. If we wanted that we could go to a coffee shop or an office building. Plays are trying to show us something else. It may be human in all respects, but the world we are seeing is not our world. For this reason, Neil Simon’s characters can say anything they feel like saying because they are in their own world – a world in which my day to day interactions would seem as foreign as theirs do to me. It then struck me that in plays, the characters are allowed to do things that I would like to do, but can’t because I am bound by the laws of this world. In Closer, Larry asked Anna a series of questions that, although I would secretly and masochistically want to know, I would never have the guts to ask. In that way, dialogue allows the audience an outlet for their own desires and passions. It acts in a “well if I can’t, at least somebody can,” kind of way. Shakespearean dialogue may be so enticing to the reader because it is so beautiful and untouchable. Even if someone practiced their whole life, they probably wouldn’t be able to converse in Shakespearean English like the characters in the plays can. Watching dialogue is a way for the audience to live out their fantasy of being like the characters on stage, if only for a moment.

The dialogue samples we read also maintained their subjects very well. When I am trying to write dialogue I find I can never keep character, subject, and relative realism consistent – one thing always drops off. The dialogue we read seemed to do a good job of maintaining a balance amongst the three. If I was asked, I think I could describe in a few words the subject of the dialogue. The same can not be said for all dialogue, and a departure from either character, subject, or realism is typically difficult for me to become invested in.

4 comments:

  1. You pose a great question here Rollie: how to exploit the fact that characters in plays always live in a world which is not real (while still pretending that is). If you go to or read Neil Simon or Tennessee Williams plays and think, "Nope, I don't buy it. That's not real," then in a lot of ways, that is a legitimate complaint. No plays are real. But you buy some of them. Figuring out how some people make unreality feel real while still taking advantage of what unreality buys us (characters who say what they think, characters who speak beautifully, characters who always have a devastating comeback at the ready, characters who are somehow smarter than their audience or even their authors, characters who get away with what real people can't) is the ballgame here. Perhaps it seems like their lack of realism is what bugs you about Simon and Williams plays but in fact it's something else? It would be worth noting, as you've done with Closer, dialogue where you a) realize that people don't really talk that way but b) buy it anyway. Then you can work on figuring out why. And, you know, how to reproduce that yourself.

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  2. The reactions are probably the single most important facet of dialogues in plays. Without a reaction the conversation doesn't move forward. It sounds like an obvious trait, but it's very easy to forget when actually writing. Your notion of Larry asking the questions that you yourself secretly want to know and never would ask is, interestingly enough, how I viewed the "Vagina Monologues" and the absence of the interviewer. It was as if we were asking the questions without having to. So it can play well both with monologues and dialogues.

    Playing out fantasies is related to what I believe to be the single most important element of any artistic medium, the immersion factor. Without immersion we could get about as much from what we are watching as making a cheese sandwich. So I whole-heartedly agree there, though I don't feel it's limited to dialogue.

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  3. I agree that the dialogue in Closer did create a very natural progression and build up to the eventual heavy emotional responses. I definitely agree that those questions would not normally occur in real life, nor would those blunt responses. People are too cautious and thankfully generally too nice to reveal that much about an affair. But they are the twisted questions we all would be dying to ask.

    I’ve always thought I valued very realistic dialogue, situations, etc. in plays/ short stories, but I LOVE Tennessee Williams. Plays are allowed to be a bit more than real life, to stretch reality, for the sake of entertainment or to make a point. I suppose my vision of a “realistic” play now, if that’s even really possible, is one that is consistent and creates believable world.
    “Dialogue allows the audience an outlet for their own desires and passions.” Hear hear. And Erik I agree that all art is basically fantasy.

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  4. I definately agree that mantaining character, dialouge, and relative realism in a convincing and engaging fashion will be quite a challenge to do and is also something that many of the dialouges we read did quite well. I agree with your response to Death of a Salesman, the realistic way the two men of different stature (which contradicted with the idea of a wiser elder that the younger could learn from and must respect) treated each. This realistic element heightens the audience's empathy, at least in my opinion, because it is so much closer to reality- and perhaps even something that an audience member could directly relate to (especially since the situation is one popping up all over our current corporate world).

    I thought it was really interesting how you point out that Larry asks questions of Anna that anyone in that situation would be curious about but may not have the courage, or "guts," to inquire about. However this seems to be one way to convey information to the audience- the "ignorant" character that we talked about in class that needs situations explained to them. Not one hundred percent realistic, but certainly useful. And very telling about the character!

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