Are they human or are they ...? by Fran Brady
For novel writers, characters are very important,
and so too are settings. In two of my four novels, I was very conscious, while
writing, that the place itself was as much a character as the protagonist.
One is set in St Andrews in Scotland, home of golf
and of the third oldest university in Britain, steeped in history and horror
stories (e.g. Reformation martyrs burnt at the stake at the entrance to Quad.
The other is set in the Hebrides and revolves around a lighthouse family.
The
bleak but beautiful landscape, the wild and wilful sea: both are fully
paid-up members of the dramatic personae.
Weather too can
be so central to the tale as to assume character status. Heavy skies, scudding
clouds and sheeting rain can have as much effect on the action and atmosphere
as a human character.
Or stifling heat, gentle, warm breezes ... If they happen once, they are just details; but, if they are frequent and integral, they take on the status and role of characters.
Months have personalities. I remember reciting in
primary school:
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February
brings the rain
Thaws the
frozen lake again.
March brings
breezes sharp and shrill,
Shakes the dancing daffodil.
Shakes the dancing daffodil.
April brings the
primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of
pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips,
lillies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling
showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the
sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings
the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Brown October brings the
pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the
blast,
Then the leaves go whirling past.
Then the leaves go whirling past.
Chill December brings
the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.
Each month of the year is pinned down by characteristics that, to my childish mind, seemed predictable and unchanging, set in stone. The weather, the outdoors and the indoors, our reactions to them: all are proscribed in the twelve-couplet jingle. Our feel-good / feel-bad temperatures are conditioned by it. January is not January unless the lake is frozen; July is not July without showers; November is not November without leaves whirling in the wind.
Remember Browning's 'Oh, to be in England Now that April's there'?* Presumably, wherever he was, there were no primroses or daisies. One of my daughters lived for a few years in New Zealand. Photos of their pool party in glorious sunshine on Christmas Day seemed all wrong. Where was the sleet and the bitter cold that necessitates a blazing fire?
We cling to the concept of 'seasonal' and feel out of sorts when the weather is not. Warm, mild winters and cool, wet summers leave us feeling dissatisfied, cheated somehow. But even 'unseasonableness' can play a character in a novel. The very unsettledness it evokes in our human characters can supply a dynamic that changes their behaviour, mood and actions.
What other non-human characters are you aware of in novels you have read - or written?
* from Home Thoughts from Abroad
Her website has full details and links to buy; also,
short stories, poems, memoir pieces, a children's serial and an erratic blog.
Find her on www.franbrady.com
Comments
January brings the snow,
Makes your feet and fingers glow.
February's ice and sleet,
Freeze the toes right off your feet.
Welcome, March, with wint'ry wind,
Would thou wert not so unkind.
April brings the sweet spring showers,
On and on for hours and hours.
Farmers fear unkindly May,
Frost by night and hail by day.
June just rains and never stops,
Thirty days and spoils the crops.
In July the sun is hot,
Is it shining? No it's not!
August, cold and dank and wet,
Brings more rain than any yet.
Bleak September's mist and mud,
Is enough to chill the blood.
Then October adds a gale,
Wind and slush and rain and hail.
Dark November brings the fog,
Should not do it to a dog.
Freezing wet December, then...
Bloody January again!