This is the first of two articles prompted by related ideas on description: setting and character. For both, I believe the best general approach is somewhere along the lines of ‘less is more’, but the reasons are different.
If you read older books, Tolkien included, the descriptions of setting are vast and detailed. Every new stage is set forth in loving panoramic detail. These days, readers are less prone to put up with such things. Most, myself included, look eagerly for the story to continue. Get on with it!
But why? Is it that we’re less patient compared with how people used to be? Is it because our attention spans are getting shorter thanks to the influences of faster forms of media at our fingertips such as movies and TV shows (streaming or otherwise)? Perhaps, but I don’t think these lie at the root. The potency of visual mediums play a critical role, but in a different way.
Think back to what life was like generations ago. For example, let’s consider someone born and raised on the east coast of the U.S. in the late 19th century. Unless they were lucky enough to take a steamship across the Atlantic, they would never have seen a medieval castle. The towns of the eastern seaboard, few older than a century, would give them only limited references to imagine European hamlets over a thousand years old. Perhaps if they traveled westward, they might see the Rocky Mountains, but barring that, they probably would never have seen craggy white-capped peaks. Though taking a train across the plains states might give them some context for the Russian steppe, could they imagine the drifting sands of the Sahara desert? And these questions here have held largely a European focus that fails to consider the veldt of Africa, the jungles of South America, the Himalayas and Mongolian plateau of Asia. Likewise, these concepts have focused on natural features over those of the many creative, complex, and ancient cultures of our world. At best, our example American has seen some paintings and black-and-white photographs. People traveled more often a century or two ago than we often give them credit for but leisure travel of exotic places was a luxury. Consider today how many people haven’t left the United States, or even the state where they were born.
On the other hand, if you were to ask someone today to imagine a medieval castle, a European hamlet, the Himalaya Mountains, the South Pole, the moon, or Mars, most would be able to without much effort. And, failing that, there’s always Google.
Visual media has brought these locations to our doorsteps. While there is something wonderful and tangible about travel, all you need is a smart phone and a bit of imagination to conjure most any location easily to mind. We can see most of what we need to see without the words that were necessary even fifty years ago.
Does this mean that description is dead?
No. But it means that authors can be more judicious with their description. It can be simpler, focusing on what is important and what is meaningful. For Vistus, walking through the streets of the magnificent Syraestari city of Nahirazith, I don’t need to describe what a walled city with a palace at its heart looks like. When he travels through the wilderness north of the empire, I don’t need to devote hundreds of pages to paint an image of the dew-tipped evergreen trees. Instead, I can focus on how his world differs from our own. Even more, I can focus on how it feels. For me, that is what lies at the root. I care less about what a place looks like, because I know that in most things, a reader can quickly imagine it. Instead, I want to convey how it makes its people feel.
Next time, I’ll continue this conversation by looking at character descriptions.