Ross Macdonald's Art of Description
I had a Saturday writing session a couple weeks ago where I couldn't manage more than a few words, and every word I managed was something I hated. When I got tired of using my head to drive nails, I decided to spend the rest of the day with a Ross Macdonald novel, which is always a nice way to spend an afternoon, Saturday or otherwise.
I've read several novels by Macdonald, but never critically -- it is too much of a pleasure to just get swept up by the guy. But I find his plots complex, and by the middle of his books I am invariably lost, and not in that murky noir way. I'm just not sharp enough to remember all the names or to pick up on the clues. So I decided to diagram this novel as I went, and holy hell what a spaghetti chart that generated. Maybe I'll publish it here sometime, if it doesn't strangle me before I can finish it.
But besides the delightful intricacies of the plot, I noticed something else -- a technique Macdonald uses in character descriptions.
Take a look at these descriptions, all from the first couple dozen pages of The Goodbye Look:
“The heavy dark lines accentuating her eyes made her look like a prisoner peering out through bars.”
“High-shouldered and elegantly dressed, he was handsome and seemed to know it. His thick white hair was carefully arranged on his head, as carefully arranged as his expression.”
“He crossed the courtyard with a kind of military precision, as if each step he took, each movement of his arms, was separately controlled by orders sent down from on high.”
“She also had a quality that bothered me, a certain doubt and dimness about the eyes, as if she had lost her way a long time ago.”
“His mouth was chewed and ravaged by lifelong doubt and suspicion, and it kept working now.”
Do you see what Macdonald did here?
In each of the above descriptions, Macdonald pairs factual description with subjective opinion, speculation, or observation:
The heavy dark lines accentuating her eyes (fact) made her look like a prisoner peering out through bars (opinion).
High-shouldered and elegantly dressed, he was handsome (standards of beauty are subjective, but we can accept as factual this man is handsome) and seemed to know it (opinion/observation).
His thick white hair was carefully arranged on his head (fact), as carefully arranged as his expression (observation).
He crossed the courtyard with a kind of military precision ("precision" is factual, military is observational, but Archer has already been told this man was a war hero), as if each step he took, each movement of his arms, was separately controlled by orders sent down from on high (observation, and a slick one, reinforcing the subject's military bearing).
She also had a quality that bothered me (opinion or emotional reaction), a certain doubt and dimness about the eyes ("dimness" is close enough to factual, maybe saying a person seems doubtful is as well), as if she had lost her way a long time ago (speculation).
His mouth was chewed and ravaged (fact) by lifelong doubt and suspicion (speculation), and it kept working now (observation).
One of the things I love about this technique is it deepens the intimacy of first-person narration without clubbing us over the head with it.
Look at how a less-skilled writer (ahem, me) might handle the first of those lines:
Macdonald: The heavy dark lines accentuating her eyes made her look like a prisoner peering out through bars.
Less-skilled: She had heavy dark lines accentuating her eyes. They reminded me of a prisoner peering out through bars.
Both of these descriptions are first-person, but Macdonald's line makes Archer's assessment of the woman implicit, blending observation and opinion into a snap judgement — the kind we make all the time when meeting people. He lets us know what Archer thinks about this woman without calling attention to his thinking. In Macdonald's hands, first-person narration does more than tell us what Archer thinks. It tells us how Archer thinks, a subltler and more valuable thing.
This Macdonald guy is pretty good. He might make a mark in this business.
And maybe I'll spend more time reading and less time writing.
(Nah, you're not getting off that easy).