In The Prince of Tides, as in Conroy’s other books, the conversations flow effortlessly, and the reader feels privy to an actual discussion between the characters. Conroy uses these conversations as a means to define the characters in his stories. He fleshes out his charactes with their own words. His dialog is the ultimate show, don’t tell device. I would say that his conversations are just as good as real conversations, but they are better than that. Often, real conversations are just controlled noise, but Conroy’s conversations have a function and a purpose.
He has the skill necessary to add layers to his characters using the words that they speak as the mortar. To illustrate this point, I will now open my copy of the Prince of Tides to a random page and quote some dialog. Okay, it’s page 141. Well, of course that was totally random. You’re just going to have to trust me.
“I want you to call me Coach.”
“The feminist coach.”
“Yes, the feminist coach.”
“Is there a part of you that hates women, Tom?” she asked, leaning toward me. “Really hates them?”
“Yes,” I answered, matching the dark intensity of her stare.
“Do you have any idea why you hate women?” she asked, again the unruffled professional, dauntless in her role.
“Yes, I know exactly why I hate women. I was raised by a woman. Now ask me the next question. The next logical question.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Ask me if I hate men, New York feminist doctor,” I said. “Ask me if I hate fucking men.”
“Do you hate men?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I hate men because I was raised by one.”
This is obviously a conversation between Tom and Lowenstein, but I want you to forget about that for a minute. Put what you know about these characters out of your mind and concentrate on this conversation. If all you knew about this pair was what you could infer from this excerpt—which is clever, entertaining, and reads exceptionally well, by the way—you would know a great deal about the characters. And that is my point. It is why I picked the raspberry cobbler.
You make a great case for the raspberry cobbler, Ray. But I think I still might be partial to the peanut butter brownies.
ReplyDelete"He fleshes out his charactes with their own words." Ray this comment just proves what a pro you are as a fiction writer. I have so much to learn from fellow students like you. I wish we hung out when we were at Shorter.
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ReplyDeleteWouldn't it be wonderful if people acutally used communication this way? Think about how much we would learn about our fellow human beings. Obviously, Conroy is schooled in using his dialogue to veil characters rather than push plot. How much money would he need to teach me how to do that?
ReplyDeleteI have to be honest. I didn't even notice the conversation, which must mean it was really good. His dialogues flow so effortlessly, just like you said, that nothing seemed odd, off, or unnatural. Hence, I never noticed the conversations. It's interesting because something that is so common as human conversation is so difficult to replicate in a believable way on paper.
ReplyDeleteA function and a purpose--oh so true! I agree with Kristi at how wonderful if we employed this task you gave us in actual communication. How much would we learn about our loved ones--that we know so well--if we listened to the words and not our preconceived notions of where they are coming from. Ray, I know that wasn't your intention necessarily, but what a great "life lesson" reminder.
ReplyDeletePS-and since it was 100 degrees in Dallas today, can you make that a la mode? :-)
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