In Which We Discuss Russia

As I described in my previous post, I'm currently reading a lot about story stucture, which means I'm thinking about it a lot and applying it to the stories I read and watch. On twitter, someone asked why the video Ukrainian leader, Volodymyr Zelensky, was so powerful, and I think the fact that Zelensky worked as an actor and understands the power of stories is a factor. To be clear, most stories are fictional, but calling something a 'story' doesn't mean saying it is fiction. I'm saying Zelensky is telling us facts, but he's telling them to us in a way that uses the principles of story structure to produce a powerful emotional experience.

The video is embedded in this article.

We already know the inciting incident - Russia has invaded Ukraine - so Zelensky doesn't need to tell us. He can just say "good evening", because we already know why he's recording.

By the way, I do not hold this against the majority of the Russian people. We know you didn't want Putin in power and many of you do not support the war.

After "good evening", Zelensky immediately starts describing the escalations of the story. Firstly, he introduces us to the men standing around him. "The leader of the party", "the head of the presidential administration", and so on. That's the first point. Each of these individual people are here. Zelensky tells us their titles because we all have an idea of what a 'leader' or 'the head' of something is, so that's the minimum amount of explanation we need to follow what he's saying.

After describing individuals, Zelensky gets to his second escalation. "Our soldiers are here." Then the third, "Our citizens are here." He uses repetition. Firstly, "we are all here" to summarise that 'we', the leaders, are all here. Then "we are all here" to summarise that 'we', the Ukrainian people, are 'all here'.

Now that "we are all here", we've reached the crisis point. What are "we all" going to do? The fact Zelensky repeated the word "here" gives us a hint, so we know before he says it, but we're not 100% sure because it's such a risky decision. Zelensky tells us that "we" are protecting our independence and we are going to stay here. That decision is the turning point. The obvious value that is at stake is life; Zelensky is telling us about his decision to risk that, to remain in danger. Note that this decision already happened, so he has been in the same amount of danger the whole time he's been speaking, but we experience the shift and the emotions of it when we hear it confirmed.

I'd say another value at stake is 'love.' All of Zelensky's escalations were about "we", being together. He has chosen to put his life at risk because of love. Love for his country, his people, and his family. He doesn't need to explain that to us because we already understand it, both from the external context, from our love for our own homes and families, and because he told us this was about "we." Love is now stronger; life is more threatened.

Zelensky telling us about that decision is the emotional climax of the 30 second video. He ends with "glory to the defenders of Ukraine" and "glory to Ukraine", which is the resolution. The story isn't over, we don't know what is going to happen to Ukraine, but the scene is over. The decision is made, and that reassurance is a 'full stop.'

Again, I'm not saying any of this is false. I'm saying Zelensky knew how to deliver this factual information to us in the most emotionally powerful way, probably because of his previous work in storytelling as an actor and comedian.

This clip also illustrates the question of who the storytelling escalations happen to. From whose point of view is it an escalation? Zelensky knew he was speaking for the entire country before he started recording, so, in this case, the escalation is from the audience's point of view. Escalations are whatever make the decision you have to make harder or more complicated, but your main character doesn't have to learn about them in that scene. They might already know. When faced with the situation, the character thinks about a relevant experience they've had before or information they already have and either tells someone or thinks about it so the reader can see it. Alternatively, they might not know, but the audience learns it from another character, creating a situation of dramatic irony where the main character doesn't fully understand the decision they're making and make mistakes.

The other thing about stories is, stories tell us what to do in new situations. When we look at it that way, Zelensky's story isn't original. I don't know about you, but for my entire life, every story in which the Russians are on one side has had them as the bad guys. There are other stories from before I was born, like Russia defeating the Nazis or repelling Napoleon, in which the Russians are the good guys, but, for my entire life, every story has clearly told me that if Russia is on one side, that side is the wrong side. I think that's a factor in why what's happening in the Ukraine is resonating with so many people. We know what to do when Russia invades, and it's not to support Russia.

Another factor is race because, if it wasn't, we'd have heard this outcry over Chechnya, or Syria, or Iran, or any of the other countries that have been invaded by anyone over the last few decades. We really need to work on spreading our empathy out to people who aren't white. And don't give me that bullshit about "this is the first time we've seen war in a civilised nation", Daniel Hannon of The Telegraph. You clearly mean 'white.' Honestly, I'm beginning to doubt that anyone from the Telegraph understands that non-white people can (A) be British, and (B) can read. We are and we can and your racism is showing.

The other story we all know is the one about the underdog who stands up to a bully and says "I'm not going to take it." We know that, in real life, the underdog doesn't win. Usually, quite a few of them lose, to establish the bully's power before the hero comes along and rallies everyone against him. But, we've all heard stories about how a smaller, weaker force can win because they have right or justice or truth on their side. War and Peace is that sort of story. Pierre wins, against all odds, like Russia beat the French. Oh, there's another dichotomy I didn't pick up on before. The war story is between Russia and France, and the peace story is about the French-raised Pierre and the Russian Natasha.

In short, decades and decades of stories have told us that, when Russia invades, and when the underdog stands up to the bully, the right side is that of the invaded and the underdog. I think that's what a lot of people are experiencing. Going back to War and Peace, Tolstoy theorised that Russia won because every Russian soul was united. I don't think that is the case, or, at least, not for Russia. In this case, Russia is France, the invader, and it is every Ukrainian soul that is united.

I think Putin's affected by stories too. In his case, the stories are from his childhood, about the might of the Soviet Union. He was raised in it, he has golden memories of it, he wants to get back to it, or, at least, that's the least cynical interpretation I have. Similarly, anyone born after 1999 in Chechnya has been raised only knowing Chechnya under Russian control. That will affect how they identify and how they see the world. It's not surprising that most of the young Chechen men fighting for Russia were born after that year.

Honestly, I love Russia. That's why I committed to reading War and Peace. I love the accent, the history, the literature, the language...Russia is so much, all by itself. Why isn't that enough for Putin? Let it go. The Soviet Union is over. You don't need to get back to that to be worth something. You're enough. You have so much culture and history just as Russia. You're complete without the rest of the Soviet Union. Leave them alone. Be Russian. Let Chechnya be Chechen, let Ukraine be Ukrainian. You don't need them for you to be Russian.

In Which We Discuss Storytelling

By the way, I am still reading War and Peace and Stephen King's works, despite the long gaps. I fully intend to get back to both of them.

I've been reading a lot about how stories work recently because I'm trying to write. I've been trying to write for years, but it was hard to figure out how to write a novel-length story. Now with ADHD medication and two Masters degrees under my belt, I have the focus and the confidence to see a path through from where I am now to where I want to be. And right now, that means gathering the tools to analyse and breakdown stories, and understand why they work, so I have a framework I can play with in new and interesting ways. 

Recently, I've read/been reading Randy Ingermanson's How to Write a Novel Using the Snowflake Method, Shawn Coyne's The Story Grid, and Paul Tomlinson's Plot Basics.  I'm also rereading Stephen King's On Writing. They're all fundamentally describing the same thing, but in slightly different ways. They're all trying to codify how stories work in our brains, so this is something we all instinctively recognise when we see it, but we don't know exactly why it works or what we're seeing. Most writers didn't intentionally try to structure their stories in specific ways, but stories that work tend to have things in common, and those things are what 'story structure' tries to describe. It's like building a map of a city. The map isn't the city, but it helps you figure out your way through it.

The consensus is, broadly speaking, that a story contains these elements in this order:

• An Inciting Incident to set off the plot, i.e., why is this happening now and not earlier or later? What was the trigger?
• Escalations, factors which make things harder for your character. These are often called 'complications', but I prefer escalations because my mind links 'complication' with 'problem' and thinking of these factors as problems made it harder for me to identify them. Randy Ingermanson talks about a character in a crucible. The crucible gets hotter and hotter until the character breaks out of it. This metaphor is quite useful because it also includes the idea that once a crucible is broken, you can't use it again. You can use parts of it, since the character probably hasn't solved the whole problem (if they have, you're probably at the end of the story) but whatever your character faces in future should be different in some way.
• A Crisis point, where your character makes a decision. Basically, I picture this and the escalations as a game of Buckaroo. You pile things onto your character until they can't take it any more and they do something. This something 'turns' the story, points it in a different direction. Something has fundamentally changed. As I type, I realise I don't like 'turns'. That makes me picture a game of Snake, and that image isn't useful to me. That snake has no direction, it doesn't have a plan, it's doing random things. For me, a better image is a labyrinth, and the 'turn' is a choice about which path to go down. There is somewhere your character is trying to get to, metaphorically speaking (or literally, like in the movie Labyrinth), and the story you're telling is about each turn they come to and how they decide which path to take.
• A Climax, once the decision is made. To be honest, I still haven't gotten my head around this, but I think I see the crisis point as both the moment in which the character makes up their mind and the immediate action they take, while the latter is more properly part of the climax. Plus, this same structure applies to the story as a whole and is also the structure of each component of the story, that is, beats, scenes, chapters, acts, etc, and while the climax of the entire story might be big and obvious, the climax of a scene might be very simple.
• A Resolution, that is, an ending.

As I touched on in that list, this structure appears in every smaller part of the story. However far you zoom in, you see it, which is why Randy Ingermanson uses his fractal snowflake metaphor. The decision made in one scene might be an escalation for the main story, or the climax, or the resolution. For example, 'Reader, I married him' is a decision for that scene, but it's also the resolution of the story (the story being Jane Eyre).

To expand on the labyrinth metaphor I just came up with; your story starts with your character entering the labyrinth. Each scene within the story describes each choice they make about which way to go. So, you might spend some time describing the walls because your character is trying to use information from them to figure out which path is the best one. That's where exposition and backstory might come in, as metaphorical 'signposts' to explain why your hero chooses the paths she does.  It doesn't have to be backstory, it can also be things happening in the present. But, if you're just describing the walls because they're pretty walls and your character isn't using that information to make decisions, it can be boring. There's only so much of it you can get away with before your reader wanders off.

As well as walls, you'd also describe what else your character is seeing. Who she meets, her own mental state, etc. Eventually, she comes to a split in the path and she must choose which one to take. Ideally, for a strong story, neither should be a good choice. They should both be bad, so she's picking the lesser of two evils. Maybe she doesn't know who to trust, but she needs an ally so she has to decide who she distrusts the least. Alternatively, they can both be good but mutually exclusive. Maybe she has to choose between staying with her long term partner and getting married or pursing her career.  After the turn, the climax might be her seeing the new path she's on, realising it's better or worse than she thought, or that might be the resolution. The smaller the section - beat or scene vs act or story - the smaller the climax and the less the resolution. Plus, they might be the inciting incident for the next section, and so it's better to save your description for that.

The choice your character makes should make sense to your reader because they've seen all the escalations that have build up to it and they've gotten to know your character through the choices they've seen them make before. For instance, maybe your character is naturally trusting and has been taking the advice of other characters about which path to choose, but she's now reached the point where she's realised those choices haven't been right for her, so she decides that, this time, she's going to go the other way. Or maybe your character keeps picking the path that looks the most welcoming, but horrible things have happened, so she tries going the unpleasant way, realising the labyrinth is tricking her. Your character learns about the problem she's facing and makes better decisions, until she's finally able to make a decision that gets her out of the labyrinth. Before then, she'll not understand the problem she's facing, or she'll have a limitation that prevents her from making the best choice (e.g., she's scared of spiders and all the good paths have spiders on them), and she'll reach a point where everything is lost. Somehow, she'll figure out the final thing she needs and turn the whole story around, which is the crisis/climax of your novel as a whole. Darkest night to victory. Alternatively, your hero might fail to understand or overcome her shortcomings, in a way that makes sense based on what we've seen and she will fail to get out. She'll stay stuck in the labyrinth. That's a sad ending. Or you can be bittersweet - she gets out but has lost something, or she never gets out but she helps someone else escape.

The crisis point, where the story 'turns', is an emotional experience for the reader. Shawn Coyne talks about story values, which, to be honest, I still feel like I haven't fully grasped. They're fundamental parts of human experience that can shift. For example, life. You can be safe, you can be in danger, you can be dying, you can be dead, you can be suffering a 'fate worse than death'. Or love. For romantic love, two people might be strangers, or attracted to each other, or rejecting, or hating, or disliking, or they can be increasing in intimacy, they can be soul mates, etc.  Coyne depicts these values as linear in The Story Grid, but now that I'm thinking about it, I think that's one of the things my brain doesn't like. Coyne and I need slightly different maps for the same territory, you see, because we are different people operating different brains. My brain prefers to add more dimensions. If you're trying to map different values of 'love' to a line, is 'used to be in love but now loathe each other' the same as loathing each other, or is it through love and then out the other side? My brain doesn't like it being on the line, it wants to draw another axis, like an x-y grid. Although, since there are definitely more than two directions you can go in, I'm actually picturing something more like an asterisk.

However you picture it, your characters choice should matter, and talking about values is one way to describe how it matters. We can all understand why going from safe to in danger matters, or why it matters if you've gone from loved to ostracised. If your characters choice doesn't change something that matters, it's not a scene-turning choice. Characters do make small choices, like choosing tea over coffee, which don't really impact the story but do characterise them or change something slightly so something else can happen. Include those, but build your scene around a bigger choice.

The idea that makes sense to me is the choice being the turning point of the scene, but Coyne, if I recall correctly, defines the turning point as being the final escalation that your character has to react to. That can be an action or it can be a revelation, a new piece of information. That is useful to think about, because you don't want your story to be all revelation or all action, but the map that works for me is one where I think of the choice as the turning point.

You could have a very short segment, like a sentence or a paragraph, that just has beginning, turn, and end. In longer scenes, it's generally the escalation part that expands the most, though some scenes will have important emotional climactic moments which require more space. You can create a cliffhanger by ending the scene immediately before or after your hero makes their decision known, leaving the climax and resolution unfulfilled, so we're waiting for them.

In Which We Discuss War and Peace, Part 16, Chapter 1

 ....my Master's degree began and I stopped reading War and Peace for a bit. It's been a hard year. Having my little chapter summaries to look over is really great, because it means I can now jump right back into reading it without having totally forgotten what was happening.

Chapter 1

It's 7 years later. The war is over, but, even in peace, human relations are tumultuous.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's 2022. I know most of my views are from Russia.

Ще не вмерла України і слава, і воля,
Ще нам, браття молодії, усміхнеться доля.
Згинуть наші воріженьки, як роса на сонці.
Запануєм і ми, браття, у своїй сторонці.

Душу й тіло ми положим за нашу свободу,
І покажем, що ми, браття, козацького роду.

Ukraine is not yet dead, nor its glory and freedom,
Luck will still smile on us brother-Ukrainians.
Our enemies will die, as the dew does in the sunshine,
and we, too, brothers, we'll live happily in our land.

We’ll not spare either our souls or bodies to get freedom
and we’ll prove that we brothers are of Kozak kin.