The Power of Chronology
By
Jon Franklin
Jon Franklin teaches at the Philip Merrill College of Journalism at the University of Maryland.
The idea of "narrative" is inextricably linked to the idea of chronology, and draws its power from the fact that we live our lives through specific events that take place in specific settings at specific times. In this most rudimentary sense, even a diary or the minutes of a meeting can be seen as narrative, but when we use the word "narrative" we generally mean something more. We mean a series of events that are not random, and that are shaped into a story. So "narrative" generally means a chronology with a beginning, middle and end. This kind of narrative implies a beginning that lays down a problem or a problematic situation and then, in the end, provides some form of closure. ýs the ghosts of a million failed writers will testify, this definition may sound simple, but it leads to bewildering and even unmanageable complexity. A story involves character development, complicating situations, flashbacks, transitions, foreshadowiýg, motifs and a laundry list of other devices – each defined by its relationship with the other parts. What is left out can be as important as what is included. For the serious student of story, the bible is Robert Meredith and John Fitzgerald's "The Professional Story Writer and His Art." There are two overriding principles of narrative journalism. One is that the story must have something explicit to say. This may be as literal as the fact that the city council is devoid of visions for the future to the more literary point that human life draws its nobility from its compulsion to keep on keeping on. Between those two extremes is a spectrum that ranges from the personal story of a single man or woman to the much more abstract story of, say, a political faction, a generation or even a culture. The fewer characters there are, and the more formidable thû problems they face, the more intense and dramatic the piece. The more psychological the point it makes, the more it strikes not the mind, but the gut. Stories about more abstract entities, including groups of people and institutions, are inherently less dramatic (we mitigate this with anecdotes) but can be much more explicit and cerebral in the points they make. The ethic of journalism, of course, demands that the story's structure, like the facts it includes, fits the reality. – J.F. ###
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