I - DEFINITION AND DEVELOPMENT
Mankind has always loved to tell stories
and to listen to them. The most primitive and
unlettered peoples and tribes have always shown and
still show this universal characteristic. As
far back as written records go we find stories; even
before that time, they were handed down from remote
generations by oral tradition. The wandering minstrel
followed a very ancient profession. Before him
was his prototype the man with the gift
of telling stories over the fire at night, perhaps
at the mouth of a cave. The Greeks, who ever
loved to hear some new thing, were merely typical
of the ready listeners.
In the course of time the story passed
through many forms and many phases the
myth, e.g. The Labors of Hercules; the
legend, e.g. St. George and the Dragon;
the fairy tale, e.g. Cinderella; the fable,
e.g. The Fox and the Grapes; the allegory,
e.g. Addison’s The Vision of Mirza;
the parable, e.g. The Prodigal Son.
Sometimes it was merely to amuse, sometimes to instruct.
With this process are intimately connected famous
books, such as “The Gesta Romanorum”
(which, by the way, has nothing to do with the Romans)
and famous writers like Boccaccio.
Gradually there grew a body of rules
and a technique, and men began to write about the
way stories should be composed, as is seen in Aristotle’s
statement that a story should have a beginning, a middle,
and an end. Definitions were made and the elements
named. In the fullness of time story-telling
became an art.
Similar stories are to be found in
many different literatures because human nature is
fundamentally the same the world over; that is, people
are swayed by the same motives, such as love, hate,
fear, and the like. Another reason for this similarity
is the fact that nations borrowed stories from other
nations, changing the names and circumstances.
Writers of power took old and crude stories and made
of them matchless tales which endure in their new
form, e.g. Hawthorne’s Rappaccini’s
Daughter. Finally the present day dawned and
with it what we call the short-story.
The short-story Prof.
Brander Matthews has suggested the hyphen to differentiate
it from the story which is merely short and to indicate
that it is a new species is a narrative
which is short and has unity, compression, originality,
and ingenuity, each in a high degree. The notion
of shortness as used in this definition may be inexactly
though easily grasped by considering the length of
the average magazine story. Compression means
that nothing must be included that can be left out.
Clayton Hamilton expresses this idea by the convenient
phrase “economy of means." By originality
is meant something new in plot, point, outcome, or
character. (See Introduction III for a discussion
of these terms.) Ingenuity suggests cleverness in handling
the theme. The short-story also is impressionistic
because it leaves to the reader the reconstruction
from hints of much of the setting and details.
Mr. Hamilton has also constructed
another useful definition. He says: “The
aim of a short-story is to produce a single narrative
effect with the greatest economy of means that is
consistent with the utmost emphasis."
However, years before, in 1842, in
his celebrated review of Hawthorne’s Tales
Edgar Allan Poe had laid down the same theory, in which
he emphasizes what he elsewhere calls, after Schlegel,
the unity or totality of interest, i.e. unity
of impression, effect, and economy. Stevenson,
too, has written critically of the short-story, laying
stress on this essential unity, pointing out how each
effect leads to the next, and how the end is part
of the beginning.
America may justly lay claim to this
new species of short narrative. Beginning in
the early part of the nineteenth century there had
begun to appear in this country stories showing variations
from the English type of story which “still
bore upon it marks of its origin; it was either a
hard, formal, didactic treatise, derived from the moral
apologue or fable; or it was a sentimental love-tale
derived from the artificial love-romance that followed
the romance of chivalry." The first one to stand
out prominently is Washington Irving’s Rip
Van Winkle, which was published in 1820.
This story, while more leisurely and less condensed
than the completely developed form of the short-story,
had the important element of humor, as well as freshness,
grace, and restraint, nothing being said that should
not be said.
The next writer in the order of development
is Edgar Allan Poe, whose Berenice appeared
in 1835. With it the short-story took definite
form. Poe’s contribution is structure and
technique; that is, he definitely introduced the characteristics
noted in the definition unity, compression,
originality, and ingenuity. With almost mathematical
precision he sets out to obtain an effect. To
quote from his before-mentioned review of Hawthorne
his own words which are so definite as almost to compose
a formula of his way of writing a short-story and
are so thoughtful as to be nearly the summary of any
discussion of the subject: “A skillful
literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise,
he has not fashioned his thoughts to accommodate his
incidents; but having conceived, with deliberate care,
a certain unique or single effect to be wrought out,
he then invents such incidents he then combines
such events as may best aid him in establishing
this preconceived effect. If his very initial
sentence tend not to the out-bringing of this effect,
then he has failed in his first step. In the whole
composition there should be no word written of which
the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one
preestablished design. And by such means, with
such care and skill, a picture is at length painted
which leaves in the mind of him who contemplates it
with a kindred art a sense of the fullest satisfaction.
The idea of the tale has been presented unblemished
because undisturbed; and this is an end unattainable
by the novel.” It is to be noted that Poe
roused interest in his effect by the method of suspense,
that is, by holding back the solution of the plot,
by putting off telling what the reader wants to know,
though he continually aggravates the desire to know
by constant hints, the full significance of which
is only realized when the story is done. His stories
are of two main classes: what have been called
stories of “impressionistic terror,” that
is, stories of great fear induced in a character by
a mass of rather vague and unusual incidents, such
as The Fall of the House of Usher (1839) and
The Pit and the Pendulum (1843); and stories
of “ratiocination,” that is, of the ingenious
thinking out of a problem, as The Mystery of Marie
Roget (1843). In the latter type he is the
originator of the detective story.
The writings of Nathaniel Hawthorne
exhibit the next stage of development. While
lacking some of the technical excellence of Poe by
often not knowing how to begin or how to end a story,
by sacrificing economy or compression, yet he presented
something new in making a story of situation, that
is, by putting a character in certain circumstances
and working out the results, as The Birthmark
(1843). His stories also fall into two groups,
the imaginative, like Howe’s Masquerade
(1838), and the moralizing introspective, or, as they
have been called, the “moral-philosophic,”
that is, stories which look within the human mind
and soul and deal with great questions of conduct,
such as The Ambitious Guest (1837). Hawthorne
was the descendant of Puritans, men given to serious
thought and sternly religious. It is this strain
of his inheritance which is evidenced in the second
group. In all his writing there is some outward
symbol of the circumstances or the state of mind.
It is seen, for example, in The Minister’s
Black Veil (1835).
In 1868 was published Luck of Roaring
Camp, by Bret Harte. In this story and those
that immediately followed, the author advanced the
development of the short-story yet another step by
introducing local color. Local color means the
peculiar customs, scenery, or surroundings of any
kind, which mark off one place from another. In
a literary sense he discovered California of the days
of the early rush for gold. Furthermore, he made
the story more definite. He confined it to one
situation and one effect, thus approaching more to
what may be considered the normal form.
With the form of the short-story fairly
worked out, the next development is to be noted in
the tone and subject matter. Local color became
particularly evident, humor became constantly more
prominent, and then the analysis of the working of
the human mind, psychologic analysis, held the interest
of some foremost writers. Stories of these various
kinds came to the front about the third quarter of
the last century. “Mark Twain” (Samuel
Langhorne Clemens), Thomas Bailey Aldrich, and Frank
R. Stockton preeminently and admirably present the
humor so peculiarly an American trait. Local
color had its exponents in George W. Cable, who presented
Louisiana; “Charles Egbert Craddock” (Miss
M. N. Murfree), who wrote of Tennessee; Thomas Nelson
Page, who gave us Virginia; and Miss M. E. Wilkins
(Mrs. Charles M. Freeman), who wrote of New England,
to mention only the most notable. With psychologic
analysis the name of Henry James is indissolubly linked.
The Passionate Pilgrim (1875) may be taken
as an excellent example of his work.
By this time the American short-story
had crossed to England and found in Robert Louis Stevenson
an artist who could handle it with consummate skill.
He passed it on a more finished and polished article
than when he received it, because by a long course
of self-training he had become a master in the use
of words. His stories remind one of Hawthorne
because there is generally in them some underlying
moral question, some question of human action, something
concerning right and wrong. But they also have
another characteristic which is more obvious to the
average reader their frank romance.
By romance is meant happenings either out of the usual
course of events, such as the climax of Lochinvar,
or events that cannot occur.
The latest stage in the development
of the short-story is due to Rudyard Kipling, who
has made it generally more terse, has filled it with
interest in the highest degree, has found new local
color, chiefly in India, and has given it virility
and power. His subject matter is, in the main,
interesting to all kinds of readers. His stories
likewise fulfill all the requirements of the definition.
Being a living genius he is constantly showing new
sides of his ability, his later stories being psychologic.
His writings fall into numerous groups soldier
tales; tales of machinery; of animals; of the supernatural;
of native Indian life; of history; of adventure; the
list could be prolonged. Sometimes they are frankly
tracts, sometimes acute analyses of the working of
the human mind.
So in the course of a little less
than a century there has grown to maturity a new kind
of short narrative identified with American Literature
and the American people, exhibiting the foremost traits
of the American character, and written by a large
number of authors of different rank whose work, of
a surprisingly high average of technical excellence,
appears chiefly in the magazines.
II - FORMS
Though the short-story has achieved
a normal or general form of straightforward narrative,
as in Kipling’s An Habitation Enforced
or Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews’ Amici,
yet it exhibits many variations in presentation.
Sometimes it is a series of letters as in James’
A Bundle of Letters, sometimes a group of narrative,
letters, and telegrams as in Thomas Bailey Aldrich’s
Marjorie Daw; again, a letter and a paragraph
as in Henry Cuyler Bunner’s A Letter and a
Paragraph, or a gathering of letters, telegrams,
newspaper clippings, and advertisements as Bunner
and Matthews’ Documents in the Case.
Again it may be told in the first
person as in Stevenson’s Pavilion on the
Links, or in the third person as in Kipling’s
The Bridge Builders. Yet again it may
be a conundrum as Stockton’s famous The Lady
or the Tiger!
But besides the forms due to the manner
of presentation there are other forms due to the emphasis
placed on one of the three elements of a narrative –action,
character, and setting. Consequently using this
principle of classification we have three forms which
may be exemplified by Kipling’s William the
Conqueror, wherein action is emphasized; his Tomb
of His Ancestors, wherein character is emphasized;
and his An Error in the Fourth Dimension, wherein
setting is emphasized.
Using yet another principle of classification material we
obtain: stories of dramatic interest, that is,
of some striking happening that would hold the audience
of a play in a highly excited state, as Stevenson’s
Sire de Maletroit’s Door; of love, as
Bunner’s Love in Old Cloathes; of romantic
adventure, as Kipling’s Man Who Would Be
King; of terror, as Poe’s Pit and the
Pendulum; of the supernatural, as Crawford’s
The Upper Berth; of humor, as humor, as Mary
Raymond Shipman Andrews’ A Good Samaritan;
of animals, as Kipling’s Rikki-tikki-tavi;
of psychological analysis, as James’ Madonna
of the Future; and so on.
III - THE SHORT-STORY AS NARRATION
All the previous discussion must not
obscure the fact that the short-story is a form of
narration and subject to all that pertains thereto.
Now what is narration and what does it imply?
Narration is that form of discourse
which presents a series of events in the order of
time. Events or action presuppose actors, or characters
as they are generally called, and a place where the
action may take place; likewise time and circumstances
within which the actors act. These three, which
may be conveniently spoken of as actors, action, and
environment, are three of the elements of narration.
But there is a fourth. To make an interesting
story there must be something for the chief character,
technically called the protagonist, to overcome, such
as an adversary, a situation, or an idea, which thing
is called the obstacle. Furthermore, there must
be something in the story near the beginning which
brings the protagonist into conflict with the obstacle.
Often this conflict, technically the collision, is
brought about by another character. But it may
be some happening. Whatever it is, it is called
the complicating force. Then again, toward the
end of the story, there is something else which either
helps the protagonist to overcome the obstacle, or
the obstacle to overcome the protagonist. This
is called the resolving force.
As these two forces work in different
parts of the story, the action is conveniently divided
into parts to which names have been attached.
First comes the introduction or proposition, wherein
the time, place, circumstances, and protagonist are
presented; then the entanglement, wherein the protagonist
is brought into collision with the obstacle by the
complicating force, and the interest begins to deepen.
Next we have the climax, in which the struggle, and
consequently the interest, are at their height; and
this in turn is followed by the resolution, where the
resolving force works and the knot begins to be untied.
Finally there is the denouement or conclusion.
The career of each character may be
conveniently spoken of as a line of interest.
When the lines of interest become entangled we have
the plot.