From A Storyteller's Point of View

I went to the Oak Forest library in Houston just around the corner from my grandparents' house when I was about 11 or 12 to hear a story. The story was told by a local personality named "Cadet Don" who had an afternoon television program that I watched with great interest and anticipation every day. For the life of me I can't remember the story he told that day, but I do remember that it was great and I, as well as all the other kids, had a wonderful time and that it was Cadet Don who made all that happen. I thought the whole experience was pretty cool. Looking back, I can see that it wasn't so much the story that made it great... as it was the storytelling.

"I believe it is the easiest thing in the world to tell a story - and the hardest to be a fine storyteller." - Ruth Sawyer, The Way of the Storyteller

Storytelling is an age-old tradition that has existed since the dawn of time in every culture there ever was. News was passed from one to another verbally and often through stories. Jesus taught with stories called parables. Lessons of life were, and still are today, taught by way of fables, just one of many forms of storytelling. Early childhood teaching even today is accomplished quite effectively through stories.

I will once again borrow the words of my favorite author to help me illustrate.

In really good stories, the whole is always greater than the sum of the parts. If this were not the case, the following would be a perfectly acceptable version of the classic tale, "Hansel and Gretel":

Hansel and Gretel were two children with a nice father and a nice mother. The nice mother died and the father married a mean lady. The mean lady wanted the kids out of the way so she'd have more money to spend on herself. She bullied her spineless, soft-headed hubby into taking Hansel and Gretel into the woods and killing them. The kids' father relented at the last moment, allowing them to live so they could starve to death in the woods instead of dying quickly and mercifully at the blade of his knife. While they were wandering around, they found a house made out of candy. It was owned by a witch who was into cannibalism. She locked them up and told them that when they were good and fat, she was going to eat them. But the kids got the best of her. Hansel shoved her into her own oven. They found the witch's treasure, and they must have found a map, too, because they eventually arrived home again. When they got there, Dad gave the mean lady the boot and they lived happily ever after.
The end.

Now I don't know about you, but for me, that version is a loser. The story is there but it's not elegant. It's like a Cadillac with the chrome stripped off and the paint sanded down to dull metal. It goes somewhere, but it ain't, you know... boss.

You may remember that the wicked step-mother demands that her husband bring her the hearts of the children as proof that the hapless woodcutter has done as she ordered. The woodcutter demonstrates one dim vestige of intelligence by bringing her the hearts of two rabbits. Or take the famous trail of breadcrumbs Hansel leaves behind, so he and his sister can find their way back. But when he attempts to follow the backtrail, he finds that the birds have eaten it. Neither of these bits are strictly essential to the plot, but in another way they make the plot - they are great and magical bits of storytelling. They change what could have been a dull piece of work into a tale which has charmed and terrified readers for over a hundred years.

Thanks again to Stephen King.

I have recently been accused of having too much time on my hands because of my writings on this blog, but if I can't at least try to be a fine storyteller, then I'd rather not tell the story at all. This may lead some to diagnose me as having diarrhea of the computer keyboard. So be it. I like storytelling from both sides and I find that trying to be a better storyteller helps me to appreciate other tales by other storytellers that much more, and vice versa.

Stories by themselves are informative and entertaining, but as in the different versions of Hansel and Gretel as described above, stories can come to life with all the imagery and flair and excitement of the most technologically produced motion picture... with the right storyteller.

And speaking of movies, they almost always have a bizarre diminishing effect on works of fantasy... The Wizard of Oz being a wonderful exception. Movies are, after all, only an illusion of motion comprised of thousands of still photographs. The imagination, however, moves with its own tidal flow. Films, even the best of them, freeze fiction - anyone who has ever seen The Notebook and then reads Nicholas Sparks' novel will find it near impossible not to see Rachel McAdams' face on Allie and Ryan Gosling's face on Noah. I'm not saying that this is a bad thing, but it does seem a bit limiting to me. The wonder of a good tale as told by a fine storyteller is that it is limitless and can evolve over time. A good tale, then, should belong to the listener or reader in its own unique way.

Here's an example of what I mean: I don't really know what my grandfather looked like when he was a teenager. I do have some pictures but the photography technology of the day was primitive to say the least... that is to say I have the still frame but I don't know for certain how he moved... how he carried himself. When he told me the story of how he got to Houston from Palestine (see my first post, A Life Worth Living is a Life Worth Recording), an image of the experience was etched into my mind. Fourteen years later that image is still there and forever it shall be with me. Accurate or not, that image is mine and it still forms a connection to my grandfather that cannot be broken.

So why do I spend so much effort on this blog? Three reasons... to please myself, to please others, and to get these wonderfully random thoughts that constantly pop into my brain out of my head so I can allow others to come in.

Magical worlds, exotic creatures, far away lands, and the most exhilarating and wonderful experiences are but a few words away and limited only by imagination... and the art of storytelling. What a wonderful gift.

And for me, telling a story is a lot like giving a gift, and as with all good gifts, I try to make sure that my stories are wrapped with care. The present revealed when the wrapping is removed should justify the recipient’s eagerness to open it. When I tell someone a story, I hope I'm giving them a gift that no one else can... and as you might have already guessed, I like to share my gifts far and wide!

Until next time...