As I began reading Haroun
and the Sea of Stories I couldn’t help feel how strongly essentialist it
seemed. I kept waiting for the conflict
between structure and self-determination to reveal itself. I kept reading and kept feeling anxious my own
attention span would retire before the “point” revealed itself; just as Haroun would feel about his own
limited 11 minute ability to follow a topic or situation before losing
interest. In fact, by the fourth
mentioning of the line “what is the use of stories which aren’t even true?” I
began to think the climax which comes on page 137 would never come (why the
passages on page 137 are the traditional climax is for another post). I was considering the possibility the entire
book was going to be a discussion of the importance of revering those who have
written before us reminding me of the little I remember in previous classes
when discussing T.S. Elliot.
I know this may sound extremely reductionist to some (or
all) but so much of what Haroun was being exposed to were notions of protecting
the fundamentals and virtues of stories.
These foundations, of which so many celebrated and faceless writers have
labored on in the countless centuries to date, are the source of all subsequent
stories. Reverence should be given to
those stories which predate one’s self and it is only by becoming very intimate
with these stories can better stories be made.
The Book itself could be considered a reductionist piece itself à to be a better writer one
must start at the source and involve
themselves completely with knowing, understanding, digesting, and maybe even secreting
those stories which came first. For it
is from these first stories which every subsequent story and every variation
thereof was formed – It is downstream from these stories where the plentimaw
fishes happily swap names, dates, and details between the various stories
providing us with an every expanding tradition.
But this book wasn’t solely
an essentialist romp through time and space.
It was, as I had been trained to expect, another example of what it is
to be a great story. To clarify: an
essentialist view of the world is one in which the essence of existence was
established before life, or rather anyone to “exist.” A Christian, for example, is born into a
world where the “rules” have existed since God breathed life into the universe
and, in a linear existence model, will continue on forever. These rules help provide the Christian with a
sense of right and wrong, feelings of guilt, and an understanding of their
relationship to others. Counter to the
idea of an inalterable existence is existentialism: a manner of looking at rules
and structure as the by-product of existence.
As I said above this book has in it what it is to be a great story. In Fact, it has within it what every great
story has – a protagonist who is willing to push convention, question the
rules, and pinpoint the problem with the status quo.
The greatest stories have beautifully constructed worlds. We can immerse ourselves in their oceans and
mountain ranges because they operate in the story similar to how they operate
in the real world. It is the
protagonists who affect these worlds, from within the rules or from outside
them, which creates the spectacular variety of images in stories, be it beauty
or destruction. It was when I realized
this, I realized that all great stories have elements of both essentialist and existentialist
à All great stories have
a beautifully constructed world, with all its rules and structure, and
protagonists who operate both within and outside of the established
structure. The resulting conflict and
contrast is the degree of the story.
