
You're getting two memory posts, to last you through my time-away-from computer. If you won't miss me, you can simply ignore them, of course. One post is serious and one a trifle less so. This is, of course, the one of high seriousness. It must be: it has footnotes (footnote 4 is evidence of this).
16th February, 2008. 7:56 pm. Introductions - with footnotes
I promised introductions. Never let it be said that I renege upon my promises(1).
I'm going to take the closest book to hand, as deciding between all my books is too challenging. The closest book to hand is The Compleat Cook and A Queen's Delight, which is a facsimile of a seventeenth century pair of cookbooks.
The Compleat Cook opens "To make a Posset the Earl of Arundels way."(2) So there is a character involved. The only things we know about this Earl of Arundel are that his posset recipe was recorded before 1655, that he has a particular way of making posset and that, since the posset contains sack and ale, he presumably drank alcohol. We know that he was not averse to dairy food. This is as much as we know about many characters from the opening two paragraphs of books.
Let me add another character to the mix, since there are two in this first recipe. The Earl of Arundel's posset simpered over a fire(3), and thus obviously had a personality of its own. My possets never simper.
If this were a speculative fiction novel or a work of historical fiction rather than a cookbook, all these elements would be important to understand the world or the character of the Earl. They would appear at various times in various guises throughout the novel. The simpering posset would probably be the chief protagonist(4), which makes a change from werewolves and vampires and elves.
Alas, it is a cookbook and we don't get to know Arundel any better. Nor does he get to save the universe with his simpering posset(5).
This leads to an obvious truth: genre counts. The implications of an introduction are genre-linked and that affects the way we read any introduction. We're not looking for the adventures of the Earl and his simpering posset when we read The Compleat Cook. We might be looking up how to roast oysters or how to make the Jacobins(2 again) Pottage or even how to make poor Knights(6). I read the recipes for what they tell me about the people involved and their lives, but that's me as historian, not me as casual reader.
This is where I ought to be clever and do a link to those earlier posts. You know, the ones where I tried to convince you that the way the introduction is set up talks the reader into regarding the book in a particular way and reading it looking for certain traits? Instead I'll just point out that a Baron Munchausen style tale about the Earl and his posset might well start off with this recipe. Instead of being the stuff of the novel proper, however, it would be a kind of aperitif.
So, how we introduce our characters helps our readers work out how they're going to tackle our stories. Which is fine.
Except that some of us intentionally set up one type of novel then undermine readers' expectations. That's another issue entirely. The point is that the genre the reader thinks they're reading helps them work out just how much the need to discover about the character from the opening sequence. A writer who is charming and thoughtful will lead the reader in the right direction. Some of us are neither charming nor thoughtful, of course. In other words, how a character is introduced is not always linked to genre. Just mostly.
(1) Unless I have really good reason, of course. I'm dutiful, not stupid.
(2) That punctuation is not mine, before you editors jump up and down screaming. One day I'm going to look at 17th century apostrophes and find out what happened to them. There's a secret cache in the Vatican, I suspect. Either that or a lost genizah, containing nothing but punctuation marks.
(3) If you don't believe me, I can type out the whole recipe.
(4) I have lots of footnotes. This is proof that I'm taking this series of posts very, very seriously.
(5) If any of you decide that it's important to write fiction starring a simpering posset, I promise to link to it, especially if it also has a scene where the Earl of Arundel bends over that simpering posset and smiles significantly.
(6) Which I always thought meant sending a rich knight to war, but turned out to be a fabulous version of French Toast, with cream and nutmeg and rosewater.