E.M. Forster explores the fundamental storytelling aspect of novels, reflecting on the human love for narrative and the significance of time, using Scheherazade as a key example of suspense in storytelling.
In this chapter, E.M. Forster reflects on the essential storytelling aspect of novels by examining varied attitudes towards the purpose of a novel. Forster identifies three distinct voices that represent different perspectives on what a novel does:
The Casual Observer: This character acknowledges the existence of stories but lacks deep engagement with literature. His response is vague and disinterested, indicating that for some individuals, novels simply are, without profound meaning.
The Enthusiastic Reader: The second voice is more assertive. He insists that a novel must tell a story; an argument rooted in a desire for entertainment. This perspective values narrative structure and engagement over artistic expression.
The Reflective Critic: The third voice, which Forster aligns with, recognizes the storytelling aspect of novels but covets a richer understanding of literature that transcends mere storytelling. This voice embraces the complexity and artistry of novels but feels constrained by the necessity of narrative.
Forster introduces the idea that the story is the backbone of a novel, a fundamental aspect that cannot be overlooked. This backbone relates back to ancient storytelling traditions, tracing its roots to primitive communal gatherings around fires where stories were shared as entertainment and education. He suggests that storytelling is an ancient instinct linked to our evolutionary history, with the desire to know "what happens next" being a primal curiosity that motivates readers and audiences alike.
Forster contrasts 'story' as a narrative of events arranged in time with the broader artistic value that literature can evoke. He likens the simple construct of a story to a "tape-worm", suggesting it can be unappetizing when examined alone. A good novel, he argues, intertwines the story (the sequential narrative) with deeper values, transcending beyond mere chronology to offer an artistic experience that resonates with readers on a more profound level.
The text elaborates on the dual allegiance of life: the allegiance to time, which is linear and chronological, and the allegiance to values, which can be intense but not bound by time. Forster argues that life is made up of moments that resonate with significance and intensity rather than pure temporality. He notes that while novels must adhere to a linear timeline (their narrative must progress), in real life, individuals often experience moments that defy strict temporal logic.
Furthermore, Forster emphasizes that all novels must narrate events in a sequence of time to be coherent. However, authors are free to play with their treatment of time — as seen in the works of Emily Brontë, Laurence Sterne, and Marcel Proust — exploring their narrative at various temporal layers and complexities. The challenge for the novelist lies in striking a balance between chronological storytelling and exploring deeper, non-linear aspects of human experience.
In conclusion, Forster underscores that the essence of storytelling is universal, stemming from a primitive human need for narrative and curiosity. This essence remains a central and defining quality of novel writing, yet the best novels simultaneously transcend this aspect to express deeper meanings and values, allowing readers to connect with the text not just as a sequence of events but as a rich tapestry of human experience.