![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blatherskiteThis blog entry arose from a discussion of the story Wheat Rust in a recent issue of Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. You can read my review of the story on my fiction site.
This story, like many modern tales, ends without really ending: the closing situation is set up well but not completed, on the assumption that we can easily infer where the story will go from here and how it will end. Note that this is very different from a "cliffhanger", in which the goal is to deliberately leave readers unsatisfied so they'll eagerly await the next installment in a series of stories or serialized novel. I didn't have any problem with the ending of this particular story, but as the discussion revealed, not everyone was fully comfortable with this approach.
Leaving the ending for the reader to create is a standard approach when you want to engage the reader more strongly than would be possible if you provided a pre-fabricated ending. The "leave them dangling" approach is perhaps somewhat postmodernist (pomo), and presumably arises to some extent from the pomo recognition that no matter how carefully we guide our readers, many will still stray from our carefully laid path. In contrast, the traditional "give them a concrete ending" approach provides a strong sense of closure, and is therefore more satisfying for many readers.
I go back and forth on this issue. Mostly I'm a traditionalist, and prefer the strong sense of closure provided by a definite ending. But I find that if the writing leading up to the story's end points me so strongly in a specific direction that I can create my own closure, I can accept an open ending without frustration. In contrast, I deeply dislike the technique when the author seems to be too lazy to think the story through to the end. That's considered a valid literary technique these days, but it's one I dislike intensely. As I've written elsewhere, if I wanted to create my own ending, I would have written the story myself.
Given the enormous quantity of fanfic out there on the Web, I suspect I'm not the only one who shares this resentment of authors who can't be bothered thinking things through. The evidence provided by this enormous body of fanfic should be a clue to authors about just how unsatisfying the "leave 'em dangling" approach is to a great many readers. Dangle me if you must, but at least help me figure out why you did this and where I'm dangling.
This raises the difficult question of how you can create a successful dangler that pleases more readers than it alienates. I think there are two requirements. First, the entire structure of the story must be such that the author engages us in creating meaning right from the start; when the entire buildup is traditional handholding throughout, the sudden shift to "now it's your turn to write the story" is what causes a sense of betrayal or disappointment. Here, by "handholding", I'm referring to how narrowly the author defines the possibilities. The more narrowly they're defined (the less ambiguous or open to question each narrative situation), the less a you create it ending will satisfy.
Second, the story's trajectory must be clear in hindsight; if we see that the spaceship is on a collision course with Earth, then it's legitimate to not say where on the planet it's likely to hit. But if we don't know whether or not the spaceship is going to hit something—if we're literally left dangling in space along with the ship, with no clear idea of what happens next—that can easily be seen as the author's failure of imagination or as an acknowledgment that the author is fed up with the story and can't be bothered to complete it.
On a related note, this is a problem I have with China Mieville. He writes brilliantly, and I usually love his stories right up until he's about 80% or 90% done. At that point, I often get the impression he feels that he's accomplished what he set out to do, and doesn't quite know how to sustain his former intensity right through to the end—or that he's grown so tired of revision that he has no energy left for the final "kick" that wins the race. It's kind of a subtle point, so I'm not sure I'm expressing it right. But I find his endings are rarely up to the quality of his beginnings.
On which note I leave you dangling in cyberspace until my next blog entry.
This story, like many modern tales, ends without really ending: the closing situation is set up well but not completed, on the assumption that we can easily infer where the story will go from here and how it will end. Note that this is very different from a "cliffhanger", in which the goal is to deliberately leave readers unsatisfied so they'll eagerly await the next installment in a series of stories or serialized novel. I didn't have any problem with the ending of this particular story, but as the discussion revealed, not everyone was fully comfortable with this approach.
Leaving the ending for the reader to create is a standard approach when you want to engage the reader more strongly than would be possible if you provided a pre-fabricated ending. The "leave them dangling" approach is perhaps somewhat postmodernist (pomo), and presumably arises to some extent from the pomo recognition that no matter how carefully we guide our readers, many will still stray from our carefully laid path. In contrast, the traditional "give them a concrete ending" approach provides a strong sense of closure, and is therefore more satisfying for many readers.
I go back and forth on this issue. Mostly I'm a traditionalist, and prefer the strong sense of closure provided by a definite ending. But I find that if the writing leading up to the story's end points me so strongly in a specific direction that I can create my own closure, I can accept an open ending without frustration. In contrast, I deeply dislike the technique when the author seems to be too lazy to think the story through to the end. That's considered a valid literary technique these days, but it's one I dislike intensely. As I've written elsewhere, if I wanted to create my own ending, I would have written the story myself.
Given the enormous quantity of fanfic out there on the Web, I suspect I'm not the only one who shares this resentment of authors who can't be bothered thinking things through. The evidence provided by this enormous body of fanfic should be a clue to authors about just how unsatisfying the "leave 'em dangling" approach is to a great many readers. Dangle me if you must, but at least help me figure out why you did this and where I'm dangling.
This raises the difficult question of how you can create a successful dangler that pleases more readers than it alienates. I think there are two requirements. First, the entire structure of the story must be such that the author engages us in creating meaning right from the start; when the entire buildup is traditional handholding throughout, the sudden shift to "now it's your turn to write the story" is what causes a sense of betrayal or disappointment. Here, by "handholding", I'm referring to how narrowly the author defines the possibilities. The more narrowly they're defined (the less ambiguous or open to question each narrative situation), the less a you create it ending will satisfy.
Second, the story's trajectory must be clear in hindsight; if we see that the spaceship is on a collision course with Earth, then it's legitimate to not say where on the planet it's likely to hit. But if we don't know whether or not the spaceship is going to hit something—if we're literally left dangling in space along with the ship, with no clear idea of what happens next—that can easily be seen as the author's failure of imagination or as an acknowledgment that the author is fed up with the story and can't be bothered to complete it.
On a related note, this is a problem I have with China Mieville. He writes brilliantly, and I usually love his stories right up until he's about 80% or 90% done. At that point, I often get the impression he feels that he's accomplished what he set out to do, and doesn't quite know how to sustain his former intensity right through to the end—or that he's grown so tired of revision that he has no energy left for the final "kick" that wins the race. It's kind of a subtle point, so I'm not sure I'm expressing it right. But I find his endings are rarely up to the quality of his beginnings.
On which note I leave you dangling in cyberspace until my next blog entry.