chaos and the well-ordered unity of a literary period becomes evident. So with extended and complicated fiction. When one has mastered the details that constitute, let us say, one of the early Victorian novels, he realizes a unity of purpose as well as a unity of action that gives them added interest and makes them simple enough. Just so long, however, as much of the subject-matter seems irrelevant, so long will unity be lacking and interest will flag. If the narrative writer would give to his plot the definiteness of direction that we call unity, he must rid it of all details that do not contribute distinctly to the actual purpose of the work; or, from another point of view, he must make clear the relevancy of all that he includes. From this it is evident that the two fundamental processes underlying unity of plot construction are selection and elimination. Whether it be a biography of so commonplace a man as John Bunyan or a romance of wild adventure on the Spanish Main, the writer must choose those details that with most concreteness and emotional effectiveness set forth his central theme; and he must, on the other hand, avoid those details that by triviality or incongruity would tend to obscure that theme. Due attention to the concrete events that enter into plot is relatively an important consideration, because concreteness of detail concerns not only unity but clearness and effectiveness as well. Examples of effectiveness in selection as well as in judicious omission abound in the simple narratives of the Bible. The story of Naaman the leper, as chronicled in 2 Kings, v, is a case in point. The plot of this brief narrative centers about a twofold episode, which may be summed up in a single sentence: Elisha, the Man of God, heals Naaman of his leprosy; and smites his own servant, Gehazi, with the Syrian captain's disease. The various events that the author selects for the elaboration of this story are not numerous; the primary episodes are but six in number: 1. The circumstances that led Naaman to seek Elisha's aid; 2. Naaman's arrival at Elisha's house and his reception; 3. The manner of Naaman's healing; 4. His gratitude and departure; 5. Gehazi's pursuit of Naaman; 6. Gehazi's return and punishment. Not one of these episodes is in any way digressive; each contributes directly toward building up the main event of the story. The course of the main plot is concrete, direct, unified; and the same may be said of the constituent episodes of the second order; for example, of the initial episode and its subdivisions: 1. The circumstances that led Naaman to seek Elisha's aid: c. The Syrian king's message to the king of Israel; e. Elisha's confidence in his own power, and the reply Here again the successive episodes combine into one definite unit and unerringly lead to the next episode, Naaman's arrival and reception by the prophet. The story moves consistently forward, without allowing the reader's attention to deviate from the direct line of action, and with the consequent unity come clearness of expression and dramatic effectiveness. Yet while all these narrative details bear directly upon the story, it is to be noted that they are not exhaustive. Many others might have been included. The thought 66 ful reader may well feel some slight curiosity as to possible details behind the bare statement that Naaman was 'a great man with his master because by him the Lord had given deliverance unto Syria." And the "little maid": certainly there is material for narrative elaboration in her implied story, for all we know is that the Syrian host had carried her away from her native land and that she now waited on Naaman's wife. What were the particulars of her capture and separation from her kindred? How came she to know of Elisha's wonderful healing powers? Had she, perhaps, personal knowledge of the prophet's dealings with the Shunammite woman? Then, too, the scene by the banks of the Jordan, when the Syrian captain, yielding to his servants, humbles himself and follows the command of the prophet, and before their very eyes the miraculous cure is effected: certainly here is matter for dramatic enlargement. But were these and other possible outlines filled in with details of descriptive and narrative embellishment, we may doubt whether the more elaborate result would possess the effectiveness of the simple original. It would certainly lack the unity that comes from the selection of a few essential, concrete, direct details. But, as has already been explained (p. 183), the consideration of the mere concrete particulars does not exhaust the subject of plot unity. Not only must the conception of the event itself be definitely and clearly ordered, but often the emotional note, the atmosphere, of the narrative must be equally clear. Gibbon's tendency to belittle all forms of revealed religion, Hume's skepticism, Hardy's dreary philosophy of life, Macaulay's utilitarianism, Milton's majesty - these are but types of the emotional unity that characterizes all narrative writing possessed of what may be called indi viduality and rising above the mere chronicling of successive events in their order. Unity of this sort, entering into the very essence of plot organization, lies close to what is called individuality of style. On analysis this abstract emotional unity is found to depend largely upon masterly but unconscious selection by the writer: he chooses just those details that are consonant with the intangible thing known as personality; he rejects those that are discordant; and complete unity - alike concrete and abstract — characterizes his finished composition. (b) Unity in Complication Under unity of plot structure something must be said of complication, although the various methods of ordering details of the action are later to be taken up more particularly under the head of coherence. It will be recalled that the secondary meaning of the term "plot" turns on the association of the word with the allied term "complot," and connotes the idea of a woven pattern composed of many threads. Now a plot thread, or strand, we may define as any one of the various lines of action into which the main action itself may be resolved. For illustration we may revert to the narrative of Naaman and Elisha. The principal threads of this story are, in the first part, those of Naaman and Elisha, to which, in the second part, is added that of Gehazi. Subordinate threads of action are those of the "little maid," of Naaman's royal master, and of Jehoram, the Israelitish king. All of these individual strands are so interwoven one with another as to form in their totality a narrative pattern with entire harmony of effect. The more highly complicated story embodied in the Book of Esther furnishes a more detailed example of threefold plot. Here we have the individual threads of Esther, Mordecai, and Haman, united into a considerably complicated piece of narrative writing. The structure of this particular instance of plot complication will be taken up in greater detail later. Narratives consisting of a single plot thread are not common. Even in simple plot, consisting of a single main strand, threads of minor narrative importance are usually interwoven. The type would be represented as follows: the heavy horizontal line re presents the single central narrative strand, and the finer lines the auxiliary FIG. 2 strands that successively enter into the plot and incorporate with it. Such narratives are familiar in biographic sketches, and in stories of the Robinson Crusoe variety, - the "picaresque" type,1-in which the career of the hero, usually an adventurer, presents merely a central theme to which are attached the various events of the general action. To sustain unity amid the complexity of threads forming a plot pattern is not easy, owing to the impossibility of representing coincident actions simultaneously. The writer's task is to present a unified pattern, yet he is compelled by the exigencies of composition to develop but one thread at a time. The familiar instance from Ivanhoe, the siege of Torquilstone Castle, has already been referred to (p. 56). Scott's problem is to secure a thoroughly unified plot picture, while at the same time following three distinct lines of action. The respective transitional chapter introduc 1 From the Spanish picaro, a rogue. |