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Stream of consciousness is not a literary influence as many people think, but the way our brains naturally function. We traditionally think that narrative novels need punctuation, quotation marks, and chapters to make them easier to read, and that dense, unbroken novels with meandering passages and flights of fancy are a bit “literary” and “polite.” We have been taught that this is the “right” thing to do. But think about how you tell your story and your conversations. You may be listening to a friend describe a new restaurant. At the same time, you might be thinking about work tasks that need to be completed or why there are no clouds in the sky even though rain was forecast. This doesn’t make you a bad friend or a bad listener, it makes you human. In our brains, various streams of thought are constantly running at the same time. All fiction is artificial, but more traditional novels, such as page breaks, chapter breaks, and the use of quotation marks, can feel more unnatural than novels that style the paths the mind naturally follows. It happens often.
I love digressions. Frankly, when I’m writing, I like to get the plot and premise out of the way. It’s not because I’m “for” or “against” the plot (which seems to be trending on social media these days). However, I value words more than anything. I want the words to flow, the writing to blossom, and the ideas to end up in unexpected places. The story always continues.
My novels always start with a very simple premise. In The Depths of St. Sebastian, the reader learns on the first page that former friends have asked the narrator to visit them on their deathbeds in Berlin. In my new novel, I enjoy digressions, but the reader knows what’s going on from the first sentence. The narrator’s wife has died and he is sad, but now he has time to finish his life’s work, an essay on the French philosopher Montaigne. So I did it. That’s outrageous. Now you can meander and explore the memories, relationships, and events that have happened in your characters’ lives, while equally exploring what they are thinking now. This made the narrator come alive for me, perhaps talking about a decision he made ten years ago that brought him to this moment, or about the smell of bergamot in a cup of Earl Grey, or how it felt authentic, relevant, and helpful. I’ll really go off the rails on anything as long as I feel like it. That story.
After finding my premise, I am freed to discover what the story and characters are trying to tell me. I could be along the shores of the Bosphorus or shoveling coal on a train in Soviet Russia. These elements are not the main focus of the story in and of themselves, but they support and enhance the story. I can come and go, just like the human mind. It’s not just for the sake of it, but to explore (along with the narrator) what they care about, what they want to say, and how they should say it.
Article continues after ad I value words above all else. I hope the words flow, the writing blossoms, and the ideas end up in unexpected places. The story always continues.
Digression is about intuition and improvisation, and it’s about the storyteller trusting the story and having faith that the story will tell them where to go. Conversely, tightly structured plots are less likely to take these liberties, and the writer usually dictates where the story goes. There’s nothing wrong with either approach, and there’s nothing wrong with writers using a little bit of both. Patricia Highsmith, one of my favorite novelists, does not deviate. she doesn’t have time. Highsmith has a rigorous, focused, and angular story to tell, and digressions only slow and hinder the momentum. It will also change her style. The same applies to Stefan Zweig. His propulsive novella would be an odd aside.
Digressions are a natural part of storytelling. We all do it, but it happens more often than you think. If you want to talk about a funny thing that happened at your wedding, you may need to give your audience some context. To do this, back up and explain the key players and the baggage they carry, their grudges and loyalties, and their ups and downs. Simply put, to convey the main idea of your story, you need small supporting stories that give the events at your wedding the importance they need. No one knows the plot or ending of Tristram Shandy. One reads these books for distraction, for the nesting dolls of little stories inside, the wild tangents that branch out and leave smoke trails like Roman candles, the excursions that serve the mosaic of the novel. In The Thousand and One Nights, the narrator’s survival literally depends on digressions. Getting sidetracked or getting lost is just as important as knowing where you’re going.
Without digressions, Don Quixote would be a novella, or even a small pamphlet.
And who wants it?
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Lesser Ruins by Mark Haber is available from Coffee House Press.
