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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 25, 2017 14:22:23 GMT
Question - What is a "traditional puzzle plot"? Most any fiction ever written regardless of genre is in effect a puzzle plot. If we knew the ending before opening the book then we wouldn't bother reading it. To a great extent, likewise a movie. Hi Al-- Thanks for the question. I tried to cover that preliminarily here. I don't think that most fiction, regardless of genre, is (or has) a puzzle plot. I wouldn't even say that the majority of mysteries, at least cinematic ones, are. (I've used The Thin Man here as an example.) Certainly, the wide majority of whodunits written during the Golden Age were, but that kind of plot-focused, puzzle-centered fiction is no longer in vogue. Let me give another example. The great novel To Kill a Mockingbird, one of my favorite books, has some elements of mystery (e.g., who is Boo Radley?). Now, that's not the main point, of course, but it's still there. But it's not a puzzle plot. Just because not everything is revealed from the beginning does not make it a puzzle necessarily. A puzzle plot requires clues and a solution. Now, think of The Sixth Sense. That's not a mystery, but writer-director Shyamalan has interspersed the narrative with fair play clues that lead up to a final twist that is intended to be both surprising and inevitable. (Whether you or I were genuinely surprised by the twist isn't the point, though--only that the attempt was made.) Thus The Sixth Sense has a puzzle plot, but To Kill a Mockingbird does not. Does that clarify it a bit more?
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Post by tarathian123 on Apr 25, 2017 14:38:47 GMT
I understand what you're saying, but any plot is similar to a chess game, usually with an opening gambit, a middle game, and an end game, with twists and glitches, highs and lows, throughout the whole. The puzzle is surely how the game will end. That applies equally to 'To Kill a Mockingbird' and with any fiction ever written.
OK So take the Columbo format. We know who done it early on, and how and why it was done. That is not the mystery. The mystery is how Columbo is going to solve it, i.e. the end game.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 25, 2017 16:40:48 GMT
[Sorry, everyone. I'm going to take up a lot of space again.] Well, is the ending the same as the puzzle? I can't quite agree with the concept of (every) plot-as-chess-game. It has its gambits and stratagems, to be sure (that's the "good plotting" that I praised re: Lubitsch), but a chess game implies competition, and reader and author are not engaged in a competition in every plot. (They may be engaged in one in every puzzle-plot, though.) Puzzle is of course a metaphor. Think of a physical jigsaw puzzle. Even if you've been working hard on one, there are moments when you become agitated because you just cannot see where a certain piece can go. Then you finally see it, and you usually say, "Ah, finally," and "Yes, of course, how did I not see that before?" As with the puzzle, so with the puzzle plot. The puzzle plot, then, relies on anagnorisis for its very essence. Barring that element, I would say that a plot is not a puzzle plot. A book or movie can end, of course, without that experience of anagnorisis. (Anagnorisis is a great feeling, but it's not the be-all-end-all of fiction!) Most do just that. My favorite movie, Casablanca, is exceptionally well-plotted, but it doesn't contain clues and a solution that is simultaneously surprising and inevitable. Nor does To Kill a Mockingbird. Both aim for, and achieve, a different and equally powerful kind of satisfaction in their endings (IMO, of course). Columbo is an interesting case. I agree with you that a story doesn't have to be a whodunit to be a puzzle plot and that one can also have a puzzle plot (story with clues and a solution, based on those clues, that is simultaneously surprising and inevitable) that is not even a mystery. (As I mentioned, Brief Encounter and The Sixth Sense also count.) Dial M for Murder (both play and movie) is an inverted detective story (or " howcatchem"), but I would call it a puzzle plot, or at least very close to a puzzle plot, because of sheer anagnorisis at the moment when both Tony Wendice and the viewer realize that Swann put the latchkey back in its hiding spot, under the outside staircase carpet. That moment is both surprising (we didn't see his replacement of the key happen) and inevitable (despite his charm, we want Wendice to get his just deserts), and it has been well-supported by clues (the whole mystery of what happened with the latchkey, Tony's movement of it from Swann's pocket to Margot's handbag). Whew, sorry for the tangent, but just trying to explain! Anyway, with Columbo, I think the large majority of episodes do indeed count as puzzle plots. The way in which the Lieutenant catches the murderer counts as the surprise, that way is well-clued because we've been following Columbo around and seeing what he has seen (the inevitability), and there's a moment of anagnorisis, both for the viewer and for the in-show murderer, when Columbo springs his trap. Some Columbo episodes may not be clued, but most are, and they would indeed count as puzzle plots. I hope that has clarified things instead of just making them more muddled.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 25, 2017 16:55:02 GMT
Re: what we're discussing on the other thread, Al, of the four Holmes novels (A Study in Scarlet, The Sign of the Four, The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Valley of Fear), I would consider only the last, Valley of Fear, to have a puzzle plot (and a humdinger of a one, too!).
The other three have mysteries, of course, but none of them builds up to a surprising-yet-inevitable solution that has been well-supported by clues. (That is to say, they're all mysteries, but only VoF is a puzzle plot mystery.)
The short stories, on the other hand, even those that aren't whodunits, often have puzzle plots (e.g., "The Red-Headed League," "A Case of Identity," "The Man with the Twisted Lip," "Silver Blaze," "The Norwood Builder," "The Six Napoleons").
Some are mysteries (i.e., they set forth a mysterious situation and then solve it) but not puzzle plots (e.g., "The Boscombe Valley Mystery," "The Dancing Men"), and some are more tales of adventure (e.g., "A Scandal in Bohemia" [one of my favorites], "The Final Problem," "Wisteria Lodge").
Many combine elements of both the puzzle plot mystery and the adventure story (e.g., "The Speckled Band," "The Devil's Foot").
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Post by tarathian123 on Apr 25, 2017 17:47:08 GMT
I didn't say "every" plot was a chess game. I said "any plot is similar to a chess game" and not implying "competition", but more about literary structure. However I do see your point about "competition".
Agreed but then "anagnorisis", is really the basis of most (if not all) fictional literature and storytelling. It goes back to Greek tragedy, perhaps even earlier. Without some sort of puzzle and/or antagonism in the mix a plot becomes uninteresting and lifeless.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 25, 2017 17:57:32 GMT
I didn't say "every" plot was a chess game. I said "any plot is similar to a chess game" and not implying "competition", but more about literary structure. However I do see your point about "competition". Agreed but then "anagnorisis", is really the basis of most (if not all) fictional literature and storytelling. It goes back to Greek tragedy, perhaps even earlier. Absolutely true--it's a point I've meant to cover (are you reading my mind? )--but the puzzle-plot has a specific way of achieving the inevitability side of the marriage of surprise and inevitability: it does it with clues (for our purposes, small hints to a hidden truth given along the way). You can achieve anagnorisis without clues but rather with something like character motivation. Therefore, you're right, anagnorisis is a key element of storytelling, going back to Greek tragedy. (It's not the essence of storytelling, exactly, but it is a key component, one of the most important.) But only the puzzle plot (1) uses clues for the inevitability side of the equation and (2) builds up to a solution* with anagnorisis. Shakespeare uses anagnorisis in Macbeth and Othello, as I pointed out on the Shakespeare thread, but neither is exactly a puzzle plot. They do come close, though. EDIT: Oh, and I'll also point out that the plot must be aiming for satisfaction (usually near the ending) with anagnorisis. If it's merely a minor element, I usually wouldn't exactly consider it a puzzle plot. For example, there's some surprise and inevitability in After the Thin Man, but it's a very minor element (regarding the forged check); the expose of the murderer, on the other hand, is surprising but has no cluing (known to the viewer), thus negating the inevitability aspect. *Because a puzzle plot is not the same as a mystery, per se, I should emphasize that solution means "solution to a problem," not "solution to a mystery."
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Post by tarathian123 on Apr 25, 2017 18:06:37 GMT
Following on from that and just to get a tad further away from Billy Wilder, who do you consider is the father of the modern murder mystery/puzzle plot? Many say Wilkie Collins, but is there anyone earlier?
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 25, 2017 18:31:30 GMT
Following on from that and just to get a tad further away from Billy Wilder, who do you consider is the father of the modern murder mystery/puzzle plot? Many say Wilkie Collins, but is there anyone earlier? Oh, Lord, now you're really taxing my knowledge of the mystery/whodunit genre! Umm... Many of Collins's books, mystery or not, are definitely puzzle plots. Not only The Moonstone (which T.S. Eliot called "the first, the longest, and the best of modern English detective novels," as the blurbs never tire of trumpeting--it's a great novel, but I don't quite agree), but also The Haunted Hotel and maybe The Woman in White. (I don't know for sure because I haven't read WiW.) Heck, Collins even wrote a story called "Who Killed Zebedee?" (which I also haven't read), and, as Mike Grost pointed out, what could sound more like a modern mystery than that? For some reason, Eliot went out of his way not to give Poe credit for the detective story. At the risk of once more disagreeing with the great man (Eliot is my favorite poet), "Murders in the Rue Morgue," "The Mystery of Marie Roget," "The Purloined Letter," and "The Gold Bug" all seem to be mysteries and detective-stories, in my opinion. With that said, of these, only "The Purloined Letter," though not a whodunit (we know the identity of the culprit from the beginning), fits the puzzle plot, I think. It has a great twist that is at once surprising and inevitable, with good clues backing it up. Collins certainly solidified the concept, though. Dickens introduced some elements of the detective character in Bleak House (Insp. Bucket), but the book doesn't introduce many of the plotting elements that would become important. (And who knows what Dickens with intending with Drood?) A problem may be how far you want to stretch the puzzle plot. Nathaniel Hawthorne introduces elements in some stories (e.g., "Mr. Higginbottam's Catastrophe") that are so bound up with anagnorisis and come so close to the puzzle plot that it's difficult to find a clear dividing line. Mike Grost would argue for Herman Melville, in his "Benito Cereno," as the father of the puzzle plot (though not the mystery). One could make cases for all of these; Grost's case for Melville is particularly persuasive. At the end of the day, though, Collins united the puzzle plot, the detective story, and the mystery to create the "whodunit" that we know today. The father of the whodunit, I think, would have to be Collins, though ( pace Eliot) the first true, modern whodunit, based on his principles, was Zangwill's "The Big Bow Mystery," I'd say. Amazingly enough, we're still inspired by that novella to this day (e.g., the pilot episode of Death in Paradise).
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Post by hi224 on Apr 26, 2017 7:56:05 GMT
[On spiderwort 's advice, I'm creating a thread for this topic--I hope no one minds! ] I guess that, after my "Favorite Whodunits" and "Charlie Chan" threads, I'm now the forum's resident whoduniteer-in-chief (the term sounds as silly to me as it does to you), but I do love the genre and am offering an argument that I've made elsewhere. I'm interested in others' thoughts, critiques, opinions, etc. At the simplest level, it involves the great writer-director Billy Wilder and what I believe is his admiration for the puzzle plot, exemplified the best in the classical whodunit that I've referenced on the other thread. First of all, we should ask, what is a puzzle plot? Scott Ratner, who's somewhat of a student of the mystery genre, offers the simple definition that it's a plot that is also a puzzle, with clues and a solution. In other words, the reader/viewer is able to figure it out for himself, if, as James Coburn says in The Last of Sheila, "you're smart enough." (I'm usually not!) One major characteristic, created by the notion of the puzzle, is this sense of what I have called anagnorisis (a.k.a. "the paradigm shift," "the Homer Simpson effect"). The term comes from Aristotle and refers to epiphanic revelation that is simultaneously surprising and inevitable. Neither surprise nor inevitability, on its own, would be enough for true satisfaction at the end of a puzzle plot. It would be a surprise if, at the end of Murder on the Orient Express, Burgess Meredith, who was never in the movie, were revealed to be the murderer! ("Yes, I killed Ratchett, and I'm proud! Quack, quack, quack...") Similarly, it would be inevitable if Poirot, having analyzed each clue, went through his reasoning with us, telling us everything each step of the way, and didn't save any time for the climactic revelation at the end. (Rather like a Dr. Thorndyke story, in fact!) Both have one side of the equation but not the whole thing. While the puzzle plot is most usually found, obviously, in the classical, Golden Age ('20s-'40s) whodunit (because the form suggests it), it can also occur in other, non-mystery works. Examples include the romance Brief Encounter (dir. David Lean, 1945) and the thriller The Sixth Sense (dir. M. Night Shyamalan, 1999). Now, some people do not like the puzzle plot format, and that's just fine. (Our own london777 , judging from his comments on the other thread, is one of them.) I do think, however, that most people do like anagnorisis, the unity of surprise and inevitability. Not only in mysteries, but in fiction (and in life) in general. How many times have you experienced excitement when "all the pieces come together"? Something similar happened on this board in this thread. OK, I've gone on far too long, but, with definitions in order (I can give another example if anyone needs more precision), I think I can make my argument about Billy Wilder. I love billy btw.
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spiderwort
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Post by spiderwort on Apr 26, 2017 13:48:34 GMT
Nalkarj : Just wanted to point out that in Aristotelian terms anagnorisis is analogous to the character change/epiphany that occurs in the turning point/climax of the third act that usually (hopefully) results in catharsis. I wish I knew more about the mystery or puzzle-plot formats, because I think there's much I'd like to explore here. But I feel I have little to add. Still, I've enjoyed very much reading this thread.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 26, 2017 15:37:30 GMT
[Sorry. As usual, I went on far too long.] Thanks for the kind words, spiderwort ! I think I do agree with your point about Greek tragedy, and I should have made my argument clearer on this point from the beginning. (I don't think any of this stuff is axiomatic to anyone, Spider! I'm trying to think through it myself--it's just an area that interests me.) Aristotle, who coined the term (how indebted, and how grateful, western civilization is to Aristotle!), is correct in finding anagnorisis present in the majority of drama, to some degree (though I find it distinguished from "the ending," as tarathian123 and I were discussing above), but even he distinguishes between "simple" and "complex" plots, and it is only in the latter where anagnorisis is prized. Now for the puzzle-plot. The distinctions are these: First, the puzzle plot relies on anagnorisis for its very essence (to bring in a properly philosophic word). In this respect, it is the closest to Greek tragedy, which also relies on it as a central element (even though, I would argue, Greek tragedy does not need it to exist--e.g., Aristotle's "simple plots"--as the puzzle plot does). Second, the (greatest instance of) anagnorisis, moreover, must come at the end, not at the beginning or the middle; in other words, the work must have been building up to it. Third, as mentioned before, inevitability in puzzle-plotting involves clues--not necessarily the "bits of piping, footprints, fingerprints," etc. of many detective stories (physical evidence), though they do count, but also psychological, literary, or (in film) visual clues that the creator of the work inserts into the work for the reader. "Fair-play," which some disparaging critics look down upon as a vestige of the British class system (which is a fallacious argument ipso facto when one investigates the history of the genre, in my opinion), is not a trapping of the genre at all, then, but rather the core of the puzzle-plot, used to bring about anagnorisis. The puzzle-plot is less a genre in its own right, because it spans several genres, than it is a way of writing, a state of mind, a sentiment, a feeling, a desire to make all things come together. I wrote a ghost story once in which there are clues sprinkled throughout to the ultimate ending, in which the ghost takes her revenge (which is indeed, unlikely as it sounds, a solution to a serious problem in the story). Would that be a puzzle-plot? One could argue either way, because it may just have an instance of anagnorisis or it may be a full-fledged puzzle-plot, but I did put in clear clues so that the ending seemed both surprising and inevitable. I'm interested in the distinction between "unpredictability" and "surprise," a distinction which I am sure exists, but which for the life of me I can't comprehend at the moment. Perhaps, as with most things, we can make the distinction with examples? Italo Calvino's experimental, postmodernistic If on a winter's night a traveler... is one of my favorite books. Believe me, though, when I was first reading it (and, in many ways, when I have read it again even since), I was absolutely clueless on what would happen next. I had no idea what lurked around the corner. Perhaps that is unpredictability? Whereas, if we do find what lurks around the corner and still say "wow!" then that's surprise? Maybe? Just some preliminary, exploratory thoughts. You're absolutely right, of course, about the Aristotelian connection between anagnorisis and catharsis, and I think that's true in many whodunits as well. (It's a principle to which I had never given much thought. Many thanks for bringing it to my attention!) There is true, beautiful release when all things are finally revealed, when the sunlight of understanding has come to break in on the dark clouds of ignorance. To me, that is the whodunit's most elegant defense. As Agatha Christie put it many a time, it's not the guilty to whom finding a solution matters, but the innocent. This sense, and this connection, became the most cemented, I think, after the "Golden Age of Detective Fiction," after the end of World War II, when the detective story became as interested in its characters as its plots. (The prime examples are such works as Christie's Five Little Pigs, Carr's He Who Whispers, and Queen's Ten Days' Wonder--indeed, Christie's work may count as a Greek and Queen's as a Biblical tragedy.) Intriguing to ponder how, in moving forward to develop deeper characterizations, the whodunit in fact returned to Aristotelian roots. Again, many thanks for your contributions, Spider!
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spiderwort
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Post by spiderwort on Apr 26, 2017 20:01:01 GMT
Now for the puzzle-plot. The distinctions are these: first, the puzzle plot relies on anagnorisis for its very essence (to bring in a properly philosophic word). In this respect, it is the closest to Greek tragedy, which also relies on it as a central element (even though, I would argue, Greek tragedy does not need it to exist--e.g., Aristotle's "simple plots"--as the puzzle plot does).
Not sure I can agree with this, Salzmank, but I'll let it stand for now. Second, the (greatest instance of) anagnorisis, moreover, must come at the end, not at the beginning or the middle; in other words, the work must have been building up to it. But this is exactly the same with normal dramatic structure; the climax, that final turning point which encompasses character change and catharsis, comes very near the end, before the denouement.
Third, as mentioned before, inevitability in puzzle-plotting involves clues--not necessarily the "bits of piping, footprints, fingerprints," etc. of many detective stories (physical evidence), though they do count, but also psychological, literary, or (in film) visual clues that the creator of the work inserts into the work for the reader. "Fair-play," which some disparaging critics look down upon as a vestige of the British class system (which is a fallacious argument ipso facto when one investigates the history of the genre, in my opinion), is not a trapping of the genre at all, then, but rather the core of the puzzle-plot, used to bring about anagnorisis. Now here it seems that you get into something a little different in regards to the genre you're discussing. The semantics are different, at least: "bits of piping, footprints, fingerprints," etc. of many detective stories (physical evidence), though they do count, but also psychological, literary, or (in film) visual clues that the creator of the work inserts into the work for the reader. These things, I would argue, are also in regular dramas, but they would be attached to evolving character behaviors in the face of conflicts, and wouldn't be inserted, so to speak, by the creator in order to engage the viewer in a kind of guessing game (not meant pejoratively at all). Perhaps part of the difference is that your puzzle-plot genre may be more the product of external manipulation of narrative constructs than that of character development (not to say that character is not important, but that is in some way secondary in the construction of the story). That said, of course, character epiphanies and change are indeed a critical component of anagnorisis, so possibly that is the point when character takes over and the puzzle-plot construct recedes. Something to consider.
The puzzle-plot is less a genre in its own right, because it spans several genres, than it is a way of writing, a state of mind, a sentiment, a feeling, a desire to make all things come together. I wrote a ghost story once in which there are clues sprinkled throughout to the ultimate ending, in which the ghost takes her revenge (which is indeed, unlikely as it sounds, a solution to a serious problem in the story). Would that be a puzzle-plot? One could argue either way, because it may just have an instance of anagnorisis or it may be a full-fledged puzzle-plot, but I did put in clear clues so that the ending seemed both surprising and inevitable. Yes, indeed, I think one could argue either way.I'm interested in the distinction between "unpredictability" and "surprise," a distinction which I am sure exists, but which for the life of me I can't comprehend at the moment. Perhaps, as with most things, we can make the distinction with examples? Italo Calvino's experimental, postmodernistic If on a winter's night a traveler... is one of my favorite books. Believe me, though, when I was first reading it (and, in many ways, when I have read it again even since), I was absolutely clueless on what would happen next. I had no idea what lurked around the corner. Perhaps that is unpredictability? Whereas, if we do find what lurks around the corner and still say "wow!" then that's surprise? Maybe? Just some preliminary, exploratory thoughts. I've been thinking a lot about this and I've decided that I think that they are in essence the same, with one difference: as a non-puzzle-plot narrative flows it does have plot twists and turns as every good dramatic (or comedic) work does, but those generally flow out of character conflicts, internal or external, and, if well written, take us on a journey in which we don't know what's going to happen. It's therefore unpredictable. But when whatever happens does happen it seems inevitable, natural, as in "of course, it couldn't have been any other way." The difference with surprise, in my mind anyway, is that surprise carries more weight and can, though not always, seem to be the consequence of what you are talking about in terms of the puzzle-plot - a "bit of piping, etc." I would never say there can't be and aren't surprises in the traditional narrative structure, but just that in your puzzle-plot genre they seem more, for lack of a better word, conspicuous, more of a clue, perhaps, as you describe it.
However, I have an example of a "surprise" that's not in a puzzle-plot film; instead, a Hitchcock film (though perhaps one could argue it is a kind of puzzle-plot film, too; you decide). I believe it illustrates the power of surprise whether in a traditional narrative or the genre you are exploring. In PSYCHO, the entire film leads up to the climax, which is a jaw-dropping surprise, that is both shocking and yet in that moment also seems utterly inevitable. So maybe it's a matter of degree to some extent. Again, something to consider.
You're absolutely right, of course, about the Aristotelian connection between anagnorisis and catharsis, and I think that's true in many whodunits as well. (It's a principle to which I had never given much thought. Many thanks for bringing it to my attention!) There is true, beautiful release when all things are finally revealed, when the sunlight of understanding has come to break in on the dark clouds of ignorance. To me, that is the whodunit's most elegant defense. As Agatha Christie put it many a time, it's not the guilty to whom finding a solution matters, but the innocent. Beautifully stated and I completely agree.This sense, and this connection, became the most cemented, I think, after the "Golden Age of Detective Fiction," after the end of World War II, when the detective story became as interested in its characters as its plots. (The prime examples are such works as Christie's Five Little Pigs, Carr's He Who Whispers, and Queen's Ten Days' Wonder--indeed, Christie's work may count as a Greek and Queen's as a Biblical tragedy.) Intriguing to ponder how, in moving forward to develop deeper characterizations, the whodunit in fact returned to Aristotelian roots. Well now, it would seem we have come full circle here, in the merging of character and plots. Very interesting. I wish I were more familiar with the "whodunit" genre, but as little as I know, it seems to me that you may have solved your own puzzle here.
Again, many thanks for your contributions, Spider! And you for yours. I hope mine make some kind of sense to you, in the end.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 26, 2017 21:36:05 GMT
Excellent thoughts, as usual, spiderwort . (Now, if only we can solve the formatting mystery--er, puzzle plot--er, mystery!) First of all, I don't have my copy of Poetics in front of me, so I'm using a probably sub-par Internet version. (So blame them if the translation is bad! ) Aristotle writes: With that said, anagnorisis is itself a kind of peripeteia, because it's a "change from ignorance to knowledge." Or as it says on Wikipedia:(Just to clarify that we're using the correct Aristotelian terminology!) Anyway, Aristotle then means that not all tragedy involves anagnorisis or peripeteia, or any other element of the complex plot, but rather only the best (i.e., "complex") examples of tragedy (unsurprisingly, he uses Oedipus as his prime example). But anagnorisis cannot be the essence of tragedy, then, if it can be absent from some tragedies, even if they are weak (or "simple") ones. Whereas, on the other hand, I'd argue it (or, at least, the attempt at it) is essential to the puzzle plot, so much so that, without it, the plot would cease to be a puzzle plot. You're right about normal dramatic structure, but not every work has anagnorisis at its climax. I used The Thin Man as an example before. The ending, the climax, is surprising but in no way inevitable. In fact, the ending could have happened in any other way, or anyone else (excepting, I suppose, Nick and Nora) could have been revealed as the murderer, and the ending would have been just as satisfying (or not). Again, this element is not exclusive to the puzzle plot (non-puzzle-plots could have climaxes with anagnorisis), but it is essential to it. (I've recently been discussing politics, so I can make a comparison here: the concept of separation of powers is by no means exclusive to American constitutionalism, but it is essential to it.) I think you may be right on the third point: the central focus in the puzzle-plot is on the puzzle, with less emphasis given to other elements. Now, as you and I both say, that doesn't mean that any or all of the other elements are completely neglected; indeed, one of them could be almost as important as the puzzle. But none of them is absolutely equal to the puzzle in importance, and that makes all the difference. I'm sorry to reference a work that only I may know, but I recently re-read it and it's fresh in my mind: Ellery Queen's Ten Days' Wonder. No spoilers here, but there's a major revelation, halfway through the work, about two characters' relationship. I would say it's absolutely an example of anagnorisis, but it's not exactly puzzle-plotting. It has to do with character relationships and what seems most likely at a pure instinctual level. Ellery (sorry if this is confusing; " Ellery Queen" is both the authors' pseudonym and the character's name) thinks he should have known, based purely on a basic understanding of human nature. That is distinct from the book's ending, in which murderer, method, and plot are revealed--a solution to which the author has dropped clues throughout. I wonder if that clarifies anything or if I'm just repeating myself. You wrote: Not taken pejoratively at all! Indeed, that may well be the heart of the thing in both of my paragraphs above. The notion of game is close to the core of the puzzle-plot. ( John Dickson Carr--a.k.a. "my avatar"--called the puzzle-plot "the grandest game in the world.") I think we fundamentally agree on the "unpredictability" vs. "surprise" bit, though we expressed it in different ways. If on a winter's night a traveler... (highly recommended, by the way--absolutely hilarious and thought-provoking book, even for those people who don't like postmodernism) occurs in exactly the way you describe re: unpredictability. I've been thinking about Psycho, and, no, I wouldn't consider it a puzzle plot, mostly because of the lack of cluing. (Again, anagnorisis but not puzzle-plotting, perhaps.) This is distinct from what I know of Bloch's book (which I haven't read), which is by all accounts weaker than Hitch's movie but which goes out of its way to give us fair-play clues. (Not a criticism of the movie, by the way [though I do have those, as you and I know]: it's just trying to do something different.) I'm a puzzle-plot fan (of course ), so I do think modern mystery writers' lack of interest in plotting is a weakness. However, to square the circle a wee bit, I think that, while the puzzle must be paramount for a puzzle plot, characterization and style can be extremely strong elements, just a hair under the puzzle. Now the scales have shifted, and (for the most part) the puzzle isn't emphasized at all. But I think that, for a little while, after the War, the puzzle and the other elements came the closest together. That may be why I am not too much of a fan of (e.g.) Freeman Wills Crofts (who only emphasized the puzzle) and far prefer Christie, Queen, and Carr, who to one extent or another emphasized both the puzzle and other elements of fiction (characterization, styles etc.). I hope that my thoughts make some kind of sense too.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 26, 2017 22:22:14 GMT
Excellent thoughts, as usual, spiderwort . I hope that my thoughts make some kind of sense too. They do indeed, Salzmank. Very well said. We could quibble over Artistotle's "Poetics," possibly, but I think you've made your points well despite any quibbles I might have. I understand that the circle I thought we had made with character taking greater precedence doesn't please you, and because I don't know the medium well, I defer to your judgement in the matter. Again, this is a very interesting topic. I think you could (and should) write a book about it. Seriously. Thank you; that's really much too kind. I wish I could write a book on the subject, but I don't think many people would be all that interested. Plotting as a whole, whether connected to the puzzle or not, is not all that important nowadays, I feel. Some other elements, even characterization, may not be either. When I was in high school, in English class, I wrote a critique of The Catcher in the Rye, criticizing the book for what I felt was its lack of both plot and character. Rather than arguing that those elements were, indeed, in the book (which is a respectable argument, even if I disagree with it), my teacher explained that those elements didn't really matter, as long as the book "exposed truths about the human condition." Well. Now, I find that a very weak sole criterion; in fact, I don't think criticism should be based on any one criterion but rather overlapping criteria. If a work does reveal truths about our condition, that's fine and respectable, but a "fun" work is equally fine and equally respectable. In fact, in the search for philosophical truth in literature, some academics may well be overlooking some philosophically insightful books just because they're in popular genres (such as science fiction, Westerns, mysteries, and adventures). By the way, I love good characterization in any book (or movie). I think it highly important. It's just that, in the puzzle plot, the plot is by its very nature the most important element. But that's only in puzzle-plots. In Casablanca, for example, I think the plotting is great, but it's my favorite movie because of its poignant characterizations. Same with It's a Wonderful Life, another favorite of mine.
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Post by Nalkarj on Apr 27, 2017 16:59:20 GMT
Our long discussion about "what is a puzzle plot?"--for which I am very thankful to everyone not only because it provided great dialogue but also because it allows me to whet my argument and clarify terms for myself too--made me think that, perhaps, some of the examples I gave for Wilder were not in fact puzzle-plots at all but merely highly advanced cases of anagnorisis.
I'm thinking of One, Two, Three in particular. Now, the humor in that movie may derive from a method very similar to the puzzle plot, but it would not go on a list of "puzzle plots."
On the other hand, I guess the list was just "Billy Wilder's indebtedness to the puzzle plot," so One, Two, Three may count just because of similarity, but...
Anyone have thoughts on this?
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Post by Nalkarj on May 5, 2017 18:52:26 GMT
This one will run and run. I have to pick my son up from school now, but will return to try and get my head around all the interesting issues raised and examples cited. ... Still waitin' for you, London, ol' buddy, ol' pal...
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Post by Nalkarj on May 6, 2017 22:12:49 GMT
This one will run and run. I have to pick my son up from school now, but will return to try and get my head around all the interesting issues raised and examples cited. ... Still waitin' for you, London, ol' buddy, ol' pal... From the deafening silence, london777 , I suppose that I'd best stop my waiting, lest I wait so for eternity.
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Post by Nalkarj on May 15, 2017 15:14:44 GMT
Hi everyone-- I've recently been in communication with Scott Ratner, whom I quoted in the first post, and shown him this thread. He expressed his concern that I had not adequately given him credit on concepts, especially on the first page, he developed and articulated (very well). (I will state that the theorizing on Billy Wilder and the puzzle plot is all mine.) I've also included the links to one of the places where he wrote his thoughts that inspired me; the other is here, but it's not pulling up on my laptop. Just to be completely fair to him. Salzmank
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