Verdad
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 17, 2006
- Posts
- 1,430
Eye of the beholder, yes. It's in one sense what allows differing experiences to resonate with us, and in another what ultimately gives shape to everything. Countless writing decisions that seem terribly complicated when we analyze them occur almost unconsciously when one slips in the character's skin or hits that elusive narrative voice that's just so for the story. Finding it and holding on to it is at the same time the easiest and the hardest thing in the world.
As a reader I'm entirely willing to get interested in or turned on by an erotic story that goes against my gender preferences or otherwise fails to push my buttons, as long as I can connect with it through the eyes of a character.
I wish there were more stories that'd do that successfully, too. That'd let readers experience, say, obscure fetishes they don't necessarily share. It's not that difficult for a heterosexual to get in the mind of a homosexual and vice versa, and I don't think it's that difficult for a say, non-practitioner of bondage to understand it as an extension of the power exchange present in tamer sex acts. The further something's removed from the 'typical' human experience, though, the trickier it gets. I have yet to read something that'd truly make me experience the mind of a foot-fetishist, for example.
Your idea about a blind narrator appeals to me on that level.
About the narrator being a character even when invisible, I think you're talking of narrative voice in third person narration, which indeed may have as much presence as to actually become a character of its own. (Though it, arguably, doesn't have to.)
I was a little confused when you called a guy in your excerpt a third person narrator, though. He's a first person narrator, really. He wasn't physically involved in the sex scene, but he was there in flesh, a guy sitting at the table, relating the story in first person; a character indeed, and not an incorporeal narrative voice.
And I was just about to ask you about that after reading your example. The scene alone works like a clock, sparse yet deliciously vivid. However, I couldn't help but wonder about the piece as a whole. How much of a character is he (the observer guy) in the context of the piece? How much of the story is about him?
If the piece is set so that I'd get hooked on him, then I'm not sure if the scene worked. Staying out of the others' heads is fine, but if I were to follow that guy all the time and expect to see how the developments affect him, staying out of his head would have bothered me. I'd have been more interested in what it meant and how it felt to him to watch what he watched than in the action taking place between the other two.
Alternately, if he's not much of a character, the scene worked, but I'm curious about how you solved his presence in the story without it appearing gimmicky. It's a very interesting approach, but it's also kind of a two-edged sword, so I'd really love to hear.
Verdad
As a reader I'm entirely willing to get interested in or turned on by an erotic story that goes against my gender preferences or otherwise fails to push my buttons, as long as I can connect with it through the eyes of a character.
I wish there were more stories that'd do that successfully, too. That'd let readers experience, say, obscure fetishes they don't necessarily share. It's not that difficult for a heterosexual to get in the mind of a homosexual and vice versa, and I don't think it's that difficult for a say, non-practitioner of bondage to understand it as an extension of the power exchange present in tamer sex acts. The further something's removed from the 'typical' human experience, though, the trickier it gets. I have yet to read something that'd truly make me experience the mind of a foot-fetishist, for example.
Your idea about a blind narrator appeals to me on that level.
About the narrator being a character even when invisible, I think you're talking of narrative voice in third person narration, which indeed may have as much presence as to actually become a character of its own. (Though it, arguably, doesn't have to.)
I was a little confused when you called a guy in your excerpt a third person narrator, though. He's a first person narrator, really. He wasn't physically involved in the sex scene, but he was there in flesh, a guy sitting at the table, relating the story in first person; a character indeed, and not an incorporeal narrative voice.
And I was just about to ask you about that after reading your example. The scene alone works like a clock, sparse yet deliciously vivid. However, I couldn't help but wonder about the piece as a whole. How much of a character is he (the observer guy) in the context of the piece? How much of the story is about him?
If the piece is set so that I'd get hooked on him, then I'm not sure if the scene worked. Staying out of the others' heads is fine, but if I were to follow that guy all the time and expect to see how the developments affect him, staying out of his head would have bothered me. I'd have been more interested in what it meant and how it felt to him to watch what he watched than in the action taking place between the other two.
Alternately, if he's not much of a character, the scene worked, but I'm curious about how you solved his presence in the story without it appearing gimmicky. It's a very interesting approach, but it's also kind of a two-edged sword, so I'd really love to hear.
Verdad