• Symbolism—Use and Evolution

    Symbolism is a part of our daily life. Logos, emojis, our clothes, jewelry, favorite colors, pets, homes, and so on, are all symbols. They represent who we are, our moods, and our values. They can also epitomize people and events that are important to us.

    It’s safe to say that humanity’s entire existence is based on symbols and their use and interpretation. Knowledge was passed on through symbols like ancient cave drawings and hieroglyphs.

    Our dreams—a deep fascination of mine—are wholly made of symbols. The primary and only way our consciousness communicates with us and expresses itself is through the use of symbolism. The reality we experience when we are asleep and dreaming is purely symbolic and metaphoric.

    What is Symbolism?

    One of the ways Merriam-Webster defines symbolism is “the art or practice of using symbols especially by investing things with a symbolic meaning or by expressing the invisible or intangible by means of visible or sensuous representations: such as.”

    In writing, symbolism is the use of objects, words, people, or ideas to convey something different from their literal meaning.

    The Evolution of Symbolism

    Before the evolution of language, people communicated through symbols—gestures and sounds.

    Today, symbols are reflected in language, and like language, symbolism has also evolved and continues to expand.

    Even though certain symbols have become absolute—a dove stands for peace and love, red can spell out danger or passion, an owl means wisdom and intelligence, etc.—the interpretation of symbols in general is relative and can be very personal.

    Symbolism in Writing

    In literature, writers use symbolism to enhance the pictures they paint with their words and provide the reader with a richer, deeper visual and sensory experience. It’s the best way to accomplish what every writer strives for—showing rather than telling, connecting themes, adding imagery, and hinting at other meanings.

    As a writer, you can immensely magnify and intensify your writing, as well as achieve that deep connection with the reader through the use of original and authentic symbols (or by building on existing symbols that are widely accepted) and the right balance of small-scale and large-scale symbolism.

    Types of Symbolism

    There are two types of symbolism—small-scale symbolism and large-scale symbolism.

    Small-Scale Symbolism

    Small-scale symbolism is the effective use of figurative language—metaphors, hyperboles, similes, and so on. The successful use of figures of speech can help you enhance your writing and provide the reader with deeper insight into who a character is or emphasize the importance of a scene or dialogue.

    The weather in a scene, for example, can symbolize the nature of events taking place and the emotions of the characters. Along the same lines, what someone is wearing or their hairstyle can hint at certain character traits of theirs and their lifestyle.

    Take care, though, not to overuse symbolism. As with everything else in life, moderation is essential and allows for key events, characters, and moments to stand out and make the desired impression.

    As I mentioned above, balance is crucial.

    Large-Scale Symbolism

    Large-scale symbolism is the use of dominant, recurring symbols in a story that help connect and deepen the overall theme, along with any secondary ones.

    I recently re-read Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story “The Minister’s Black Veil.” The black veil in the story is an ideal example of large-scale symbolism, and as a deep thinker with a curious mind and someone who is always more interested in what dwells beneath the surface, I couldn’t help but be amazed at the relevance of the theme today.

    Hawthorne uses the veil as a means to represent secret sin and hypocrisy and to hint at shame, hiding one’s true nature, and a lack of self-awareness and understanding of one’s own consciousness.

    The Sunday Reverend Hooper appears with a black veil over his face is a day like no other. The minister’s veil reveals his inner battle, and the fact that he never takes it off again divulges the depth of his own convictions and alludes to his ever-increasing awareness of the duality that exists within himself and within us all.

    Interestingly enough, the idea of the black veil in the story can be strikingly pertinent today.

    As we are wrapping up the year 2020, we are finding ourselves in a very new and unfamiliar world that is very different from the one we were living in barely a year ago.

    In this new world, face coverings are becoming the norm, and while a large portion of society believes they are intended to represent protection from the coronavirus, the topic remains controversial and is being interpreted in various ways during this sensitive and emotional transition period—a period leading to an unknown outcome for humanity.

    In 2020, almost 200 years after the original publication of “The Minister’s Black Veil” in 1832, I find that its theme is reinforced in a very subtle yet obvious way, and its meaning becomes even deeper.

    To me, Hawthorne’s masterful use of symbolism is remarkable, and his genius transcends his time.

    Final Thoughts

    We all have something unique to offer the world. Writers do it through their words.

    If you want to make a lasting, unforgettable impression with your writing, the skillful use of powerful symbolism is an infallible way for you to achieve just that.

    To Your Success!

  • Point of View Explained

    Point of view (POV) is the voice in which a story is narrated. If you are an avid reader, you most likely have a preference, and if you’re a writer or an author, you probably lean toward writing and narrating from a particular POV.

    For an author, the POV in which they tell a story becomes the essence of their writing style and makes them memorable and recognizable.

    Because we all have different perspectives or points of view, the same story may be narrated and perceived differently depending upon the POV in which it’s told. I’ve referred loosely to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King in the writing of this article explaining the differences between the types of POV.

    There are four types of POV:

    • first person
    • second person
    • third person limited (or close)
    • third person omniscient

    And there are two types of narrators:

    • reliable—second and third person omniscient
    • unreliable—first person and third person limited

    The POV in which a story is presented is vital and can make or break it.

    FIRST PERSON POV (I/WE)

    The first person POV is where the narrator tells the story from the perspective of one character in the book.

     

    Another week over—and I am so many days nearer health, and spring! I have now heard all my neighbour’s history, at different sittings, as the housekeeper could spare time from more important occupations. I’ll continue it in her own words, only a little condensed. She is, on the whole, a very fair narrator, and I don’t think I could improve her style.

    In the evening, she said, the evening of my visit to the Heights, I knew, as well as if I saw him, that Mr. Heathcliff was about the place; and I shunned going out, because I still carried his letter in my pocket, and didn’t want to be threatened or teased any more. I had made up my mind not to give it till my master went somewhere, as I could not guess how its receipt would affect Catherine. The consequence was, that it did not reach her before the lapse of three days. The fourth was Sunday, and I brought it into her room after the family were gone to church.

     

    The paragraphs quoted above are the opening of a chapter from Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. Brontë is an author who is a master of the first person POV, and since Wuthering Heights is easily my all-time favorite book—it captivated me beyond belief when I first read it as a child and is the one book I keep coming back to and re-reading at least once a year—I couldn’t overlook it as the perfect example here.

    In Wuthering Heights, Brontë goes even deeper and artfully and skillfully uses two narrators to deliver the brooding story of Heathcliff and Catherine to the reader—Lockwood, Heathcliff’s tenant and the primary narrator, and Ellen “Nelly” Dean, Cathy and Heathcliff’s caregiver and a servant to the Earnshaws and then the Lintons.

    Nelly narrates to Lockwood and is the secondary narrator, even though, essentially, hers is the story the book delivers. The POV jumps from Lockwood to Nelly, but the author presents pretty much the entire story in Nelly’s perspective.

    While the first person POV is a popular one, it’s also challenging and quite risky. It can be limiting at times since there’s only one perspective and one version of events the reader is exposed to.

    Consistency is key in this type of writing since the reader is only ever able to enter the head of the person narrating and remains there the entire time. The narrating character can’t possibly know other characters’ exact feelings and thoughts, so as the author, you can’t discuss what another character might be thinking or feeling—you can only ever show how the narrator perceives the actions and emotions of others.

    In this POV, events and their outcomes are only revealed to the reader as they become clear to the narrator.

    If done effectively, writing in the first person POV keeps the reader engulfed in the story and on their toes. Everything becomes personal, and they end up consumed by the story and extremely involved in the plot.

    In a masterpiece like Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë creates this exact type of dramatic intimacy and deep understanding between the reader and the characters, and the reader remains locked in the action from beginning to end.

    At the same time, though, keep in mind that unless you have a captivating main character who can grab and hold the reader’s attention for the duration of the book, your reader may get distracted and frustrated, start skipping through the pages, or even give up on the book altogether; we don’t want to take any chances of that happening.

    Above, I also mentioned reliable and unreliable narrators.

    A narrator who tells a story from the first person POV is always unreliable. This is because the entire story is told through their eyes, and events and other characters are seen through their perspective only. There is no objectivity present anywhere, and we don’t know how the story would have been told from any of the other characters’ standpoint.

    SECOND PERSON POV (YOU/YOU)

    While the narrator is considered reliable in second person POV, you—the reader—can often rebel against who the author is forcing you to be and feel isolated as you are being told how to act and what to do, think, and feel.

    Being singled out like this can even anger you.

    But here is where the irony comes in.

    If a story can give rise to such emotions and reactions on your part as the reader, this usually clearly indicates that it’s been written very well, and the desired effect has been achieved.

    This was the case with me and the short story “The Cheater’s Guide to Love” by Junot Díaz , featured in The New Yorker in 2012.

    Even though I was annoyed with the main character (the narrator) and couldn’t relate to him or give him my empathy and full understanding, I felt an intimate closeness with him and was able to follow along easily, regardless of the fact a lot of the non-English words used in the story were not familiar to me.

    The author’s ability to incorporate non-English words in the text in a way that doesn’t confuse the reader reveals an even higher level of skill. Instead of alienating the reader by using words that may not be universally known, the author makes them feel connected and close. The chain of events is so skillfully presented and written, and the cultural aspects are incorporated so well in the story line, that the reader becomes involved right away.

    As I mentioned, with this POV, the author is essentially forcing emotions and perspectives on the reader. Narrating in this POV is rightfully considered to be one of the most difficult writing styles to pull off. It is also the most limiting. But if done right, your reader becomes submerged and immersed in the story from page one and remains the focal point of the action until the end.

    And as far as trustworthiness and reliability are concerned, generally a narrator in this POV can hardly be considered unreliable, even though this has become a controversial subject in the field of literature.

    The verdict that the narrator is reliable in this point of view, however, still remains. Even though you are being told who you are and what you feel, the events that occur can only be taken at face value. There is no bias when it comes to your own inner emotions and the things happening to you. You—the reader—are the center of everything, after all.

    THIRD PERSON LIMITED POV (HE/SHE/THEY)

    In his book series A Song of Ice and Fire, George R. R. Martin narrates in third person limited POV. He tells the story from the POV of various characters. They all sort of take turns narrating, and the person telling the story is easily distinguished by chapters, so the chances of possibly confusing the reader are eliminated.

    George R. R. Martin undoubtedly chose the right POV for his bewitching book series. His is a story so rich in events and characters that it seems impossible at first that everyone’s private journey can be captured in detail and deep intimacy can be achieved.

    The author, however, shows remarkable skill, and the reader gets the chance to become exceptionally close with each character and spend some time inside everyone’s head. As a result, each character becomes more real and human, and the reader is able to bond with every player in the thrilling and exhausting game of thrones and remains deeply involved in the story from beginning to end.

    Consistency in this POV is also vital. In A Game of Thrones, the first of the book series, When Martin presents a scene from Ned Stark’s perspective, for example, he’s doing it from Ned’s POV and not from anyone else’s. He doesn’t suddenly jump into, say, Jon Snow’s head without warning in the middle of the scene.

    Switching narrators can be done within the same chapter or even scene, but you have to be mindful of clarity, and new authors often struggle with this.

    One solution may be a new paragraph and a hard break between paragraphs, for example. This will prepare the reader for a change, and the transition into someone else’s head won’t be so abrupt and obvious.

    Of course, the narrator is always unreliable in third person limited POV because they are only ever able to present the chain of events from their own standpoint.

    In the magical books of the series A Song of Ice and Fire, because the reader is always in someone’s head, none of the intimacy is lost, and since every character gets a chance to present their standpoint, the reader doesn’t miss any important details, information, or plot twists.

    THIRD PERSON OMNISCIENT POV (HE/SHE/THEY)

    Merriam-Webster Unabridged defines omniscience as “infinite knowledge.” For this reason, many philosophers refer to omniscience as an attribute of a divine being—for example, God.

    This is a valid association because writers and authors are essentially the gods in the stories they write. They create the world in which the events take place, decide who the characters are, how the story unfolds, and how it ends.

    The narrator in third person omniscient POV is all-knowing and reliable. An example of a story told in this POV is another one of my all-time favorites—Les Misérables by Victor Hugo.

    In this POV, every character’s story and private journey is told by an all-seeing narrator.

    Generally, in this POV the reader is not inside anyone’s head at any given point in time, and the characters’ innermost thoughts and emotional reactions are only interpreted and shown—even though in Les Misérables, Hugo exercises some freedom with this concept, and while at the beginning of the story he tells the reader he himself doesn’t know the characters too well, he tends to journey deeper into their heads as the plot thickens and the story progresses.

    The final verdict, however, still remains—the POV of his classic multi-volume story is third person omniscient.

    The advantage with this POV is that the reader does see and know all that happens instead of only being “in the know” of events and details known by and obvious to one particular character.

    Some of the aspects of this writing style may be considered to be negatives or viewed as less advantageous—such as possible distance between the reader and the characters and limitations when it comes to forming intimate bonds between them.

    With a classic and amazingly skilled author like Hugo, however, intimacy and understanding are achieved so craftily and precisely that the reader feels exceptionally close and connected to each character and actively participates in each event and plot point, twist, and turn.

     

    I hope you’ve been able to get a better understanding of POV in writing after reading this article.

    If you have a favorite POV, which one is it?

    Mine is probably the first person, but I have to say as long as the book is written well and grabs my attention, I’m in for the ride.