【英文读物】How Tell a Story and Others.docx

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1、【英文读物】How Tell a Story and OthersHOW TO TELL A STORY The Humorous Story an American Development.Its Difference from Comic and Witty Stories.I do not claim that I can tell a story as it ought to be told. I only claim to know how a story ought to be told, for I have been almost daily in the company of

2、 the most expert story-tellers for many years.There are several kinds of stories, but only one difficult kindthe humorous. I will talk mainly about that one. The humorous story is American, the comic story is English, the witty story is French. The humorous story depends for its effect upon the mann

3、er of the telling; the comic story and the witty story upon the matter.The humorous story may be spun out to great length, and may wander around as much as it pleases, and arrive nowhere in particular; but the comic and witty stories must be brief and end with a point. The humorous story bubbles gen

4、tly along, the others burst.The humorous story is strictly a work of arthigh and delicate artand only an artist can tell it; but no art is necessary in telling the comic and the witty story; anybody can do it. The art of telling a humorous storyunderstand, I mean by word of mouth, not printwas creat

5、ed in America, and has remained at home.The humorous story is told gravely; the teller does his best to conceal the fact that he even dimly suspects that there is anything funny about it; but the teller of the comic story tells you beforehand that it is one of the funniest things he has ever heard,

6、then tells it with eager delight, and is the first person to laugh when he gets through. And sometimes, if he has had good success, he is so glad and happy that he will repeat the “nub” of it and glance around from face to face, collecting applause, and then repeat it again. It is a pathetic thing t

7、o see.Very often, of course, the rambling and disjointed humorous story finishes with a nub, point, snapper, or whatever you like to call it. Then the listener must be alert, for in many cases the teller will divert attention from that nub by dropping it in a carefully casual and indifferent way, wi

8、th the pretence that he does not know it is a nub.Artemus Ward used that trick a good deal; then when the belated audience presently caught the joke he would look up with innocent surprise, as if wondering what they had found to laugh at. Dan Setchell used it before him, Nye and Riley and others use

9、 it to-day.But the teller of the comic story does not slur the nub; he shouts it at youevery time. And when he prints it, in England, France, Germany, and Italy, he italicizes it, puts some whooping exclamation-points after it, and sometimes explains it in a parenthesis. All of which is very depress

10、ing, and makes one want to renounce joking and lead a better life.Let me set down an instance of the comic method, using an anecdote which has been popular all over the world for twelve or fifteen hundred years. The teller tells it in this way:THE WOUNDED SOLDIER.In the course of a certain battle a

11、soldier whose leg had been shot off appealed to another soldier who was hurrying by to carry him to the rear, informing him at the same time of the loss which he had sustained; whereupon the generous son of Mars, shouldering the unfortunate, proceeded to carry out his desire. The bullets and cannon-

12、balls were flying in all directions, and presently one of the latter took the wounded mans head offwithout, however, his deliverer being aware of it. In no-long time he was hailed by an officer, who said:“Where are you going with that carcass?”“To the rear, sirhes lost his leg!”“His leg, forsooth?”

13、responded the astonished officer; “you mean his head, you booby.”Whereupon the soldier dispossessed himself of his burden, and stood looking down upon it in great perplexity. At length he said:“It is true, sir, just as you have said.” Then after a pause he added, “But he TOLD me IT WAS HIS LEG”Here

14、the narrator bursts into explosion after explosion of thunderous horse-laughter, repeating that nub from time to time through his gaspings and shriekings and suffocatings.It takes only a minute and a half to tell that in its comic-story form; and isnt worth the telling, after all. Put into the humor

15、ous-story form it takes ten minutes, and is about the funniest thing I have ever listened toas James Whitcomb Riley tells it.He tells it in the character of a dull-witted old farmer who has just heard it for the first time, thinks it is unspeakably funny, and is trying to repeat it to a neighbor. Bu

16、t he cant remember it; so he gets all mixed up and wanders helplessly round and round, putting in tedious details that dont belong in the tale and only retard it; taking them out conscientiously and putting in others that are just as useless; making minor mistakes now and then and stopping to correc

17、t them and explain how he came to make them; remembering things which he forgot to put in in their proper place and going back to put them in there; stopping his narrative a good while in order to try to recall the name of the soldier that was hurt, and finally remembering that the soldiers name was

18、 not mentioned, and remarking placidly that the name is of no real importance, anywaybetter, of course, if one knew it, but not essential, after alland so on, and so on, and so on.The teller is innocent and happy and pleased with himself, and has to stop every little while to hold himself in and kee

19、p from laughing outright; and does hold in, but his body quakes in a jelly-like way with interior chuckles; and at the end of the ten minutes the audience have laughed until they are exhausted, and the tears are running down their faces.The simplicity and innocence and sincerity and unconsciousness

20、of the old farmer are perfectly simulated, and the result is a performance which is thoroughly charming and delicious. This is art and fine and beautiful, and only a master can compass it; but a machine could tell the other story.To string incongruities and absurdities together in a wandering and so

21、metimes purposeless way, and seem innocently unaware that they are absurdities, is the basis of the American art, if my position is correct. Another feature is the slurring of the point. A third is the dropping of a studied remark apparently without knowing it, as if one were thinking aloud. The fou

22、rth and last is the pause.Artemus Ward dealt in numbers three and four a good deal. He would begin to tell with great animation something which he seemed to think was wonderful; then lose confidence, and after an apparently absent-minded pause add an incongruous remark in a soliloquizing way; and th

23、at was the remark intended to explode the mineand it did.For instance, he would say eagerly, excitedly, “I once knew a man in New Zealand who hadnt a tooth in his head”here his animation would die out; a silent, reflective pause would follow, then he would say dreamily, and as if to himself, “and ye

24、t that man could beat a drum better than any man I ever saw.”The pause is an exceedingly important feature in any kind of story, and a frequently recurring feature, too. It is a dainty thing, and delicate, and also uncertain and treacherous; for it must be exactly the right lengthno more and no less

25、or it fails of its purpose and makes trouble. If the pause is too short the impressive point is passed, and and if too long the audience have had time to divine that a surprise is intendedand then you cant surprise them, of course.On the platform I used to tell a negro ghost story that had a pause i

26、n front of the snapper on the end, and that pause was the most important thing in the whole story. If I got it the right length precisely, I could spring the finishing ejaculation with effect enough to make some impressible girl deliver a startled little yelp and jump out of her seatand that was wha

27、t I was after. This story was called “The Golden Arm,” and was told in this fashion. You can practise with it yourselfand mind you look out for the pause and get it right.THE GOLDEN ARM.Once pon a time dey wuz a monsus mean man, en he live way out in de prairie all lone by hisself, cepn he had a wif

28、e. En bimeby she died, en he tuck en toted her way out dah in de prairie en buried her. Well, she had a golden armall solid gold, fum de shoulder down. He wuz powful meanpowful; en dat night he couldnt sleep, Gaze he want dat golden arm so bad.When it come midnight he couldnt stan it no mo; so he gi

29、t up, he did, en tuck his lantern en shoved out thoo de storm en dug her up en got de golden arm; en he bent his head down gin de win, en plowed en plowed en plowed thoo de snow. Den all on a sudden he stop (make a considerable pause here, and look startled, and take a listening attitude) en say: “M

30、y LAN, whats dat!”En he listenen listenen de win say (set your teeth together and imitate the wailing and wheezing singsong of the wind), “Bzzz-z-zzz”en den, way back yonder whah de grave is, he hear a voice! he hear a voice all mix up in de win cant hardly tell em part“Bzzz-zzzW-h-og-o-tm-yg-o-l-d-

31、e-n arm?zzzzzzW-h-o g-o-t m-y g-o-l-d-e-n arm!” (You must begin to shiver violently now.)En he begin to shiver en shake, en say, “Oh, my! OH, my lan!” en de win blow de lantern out, en de snow en sleet blow in his face en mos choke him, en he start a-plowin knee-deep towards home mos dead, he so sky

32、erden pooty soon he hear de voice agin, en (pause) it us comin after him! “BzzzzzzzzzW-h-og-o-t m-yg-o-l-d-e-narm?”When he git to de pasture he hear it agin closter now, en a-comin!a-comin back dah in de dark en de storm(repeat the wind and the voice). When he git to de house he rush up-stairs en ju

33、mp in de bed en kiver up, head and years, en lay dah shiverin en shakinen den way out dah he hear it agin!en a-comin! En bimeby he hear (pauseawed, listening attitude)patpatpathits acomin up-stairs! Den he hear de latch, en he know its in de room!Den pooty soon he know its a-stannin by de bed! (Paus

34、e.) Denhe know its a-bendin down over himen he caint skasely git his breath! Dendenhe seem to feel someth n c-o-l-d, right down most agin his head! (Pause.)Den de voice say, right at his year“W-h-o g-o-tm-yg-o-l-d-e-n arm?” (You must wail it out very plaintively and accusingly; then you stare steadi

35、ly and impressively into the face of the farthest-gone auditora girl, preferablyand let that awe-inspiring pause begin to build itself in the deep hush. When it has reached exactly the right length, jump suddenly at that girl and yell, “Youve got it!”)If youve got the pause right, shell fetch a dear

36、 little yelp and spring right out of her shoes. But you must get the pause right; and you will find it the most troublesome and aggravating and uncertain thing you ever undertook. MENTAL TELEGRAPHY AGAINI have three or four curious incidents to tell about. They seem to come under the head of what I

37、named “Mental Telegraphy” in a paper written seventeen years ago, and published long afterwards.The paper entitled “Mental Telegraphy,” which originally appeared in Harpers Magazine for December, 1893, is included in the volume entitled The American Claimant and Other Stories and Sketches.Several ye

38、ars ago I made a campaign on the platform with Mr. George W. Cable. In Montreal we were honored with a reception. It began at two in the afternoon in a long drawing-room in the Windsor Hotel. Mr. Cable and I stood at one end of this room, and the ladies and gentlemen entered it at the other end, cro

39、ssed it at that end, then came up the long left-hand side, shook hands with us, said a word or two, and passed on, in the usual way. My sight is of the telescopic sort, and I presently recognized a familiar face among the throng of strangers drifting in at the distant door, and I said to myself, wit

40、h surprise and high gratification, “That is Mrs. R.; I had forgotten that she was a Canadian.” She had been a great friend of mine in Carson City, Nevada, in the early days. I had not seen her or heard of her for twenty years; I had not been thinking about her; there was nothing to suggest her to me

41、, nothing to bring her to my mind; in fact, to me she had long ago ceased to exist, and had disappeared from my consciousness. But I knew her instantly; and I saw her so clearly that I was able to note some of the particulars of her dress, and did note them, and they remained in my mind. I was impat

42、ient for her to come. In the midst of the hand-shakings I snatched glimpses of her and noted her progress with the slow-moving file across the end of the room; then I saw her start up the side, and this gave me a full front view of her face. I saw her last when she was within twenty-five feet of me.

43、 For an hour I kept thinking she must still be in the room somewhere and would come at last, but I was disappointed.When I arrived in the lecture-hall that evening some one said: “Come into the waiting-room; theres a friend of yours there who wants to see you. Youll not be introducedyou are to do th

44、e recognizing without help if you can.”I said to myself: “It is Mrs. R.; I shant have any trouble.”There were perhaps ten ladies present, all seated. In the midst of them was Mrs. R., as I had expected. She was dressed exactly as she was when I had seen her in the afternoon. I went forward and shook

45、 hands with her and called her by name, and said:“I knew you the moment you appeared at the reception this afternoon.” She looked surprised, and said: “But I was not at the reception. I have just arrived from Quebec, and have not been in town an hour.”It was my turn to be surprised now. I said: “I c

46、ant help it. I give you my word of honor that it is as I say. I saw you at the reception, and you were dressed precisely as you are now. When they told me a moment ago that I should find a friend in this room, your image rose before me, dress and all, just as I had seen you at the reception.”Those a

47、re the facts. She was not at the reception at all, or anywhere near it; but I saw her there nevertheless, and most clearly and unmistakably. To that I could make oath. How is one to explain this? I was not thinking of her at the time; had not thought of her for years. But she had been thinking of me

48、, no doubt; did her thoughts flit through leagues of air to me, and bring with it that clear and pleasant vision of herself? I think so. That was and remains my sole experience in the matter of apparitionsI mean apparitions that come when one is (ostensibly) awake. I could have been asleep for a moment; the apparition could have been the creature of a dream. Still, that is nothing to the point; the feature of interest is the happening of the thing just at that time, instead of at an earlier or later time, which is argument that its origin lay in thought-transference.My