April 6, 2019
Writing and Reading Symbolism in Literature: a How-To Guide
In today’s article, we’ll talk about symbolism in literature. Worry not, it’s not an academic post. Conversely, it’s meant as a simple but revealing how-to guide, useful both to inexperienced and seasoned readers and writers. I wrote this article wanting to offer a better understanding of how symbolism in literature operates, and particularly how to read it or write it.
Motivation for this post arose from a review of one of my works. Through the text of the review, I realized that the reader had missed several key aspects of symbolism in the novel. What made the case interesting, however, was that this was not a case of an unsophisticated reader. It was obvious that the reader was fairly experienced, skilled, and read the book for what it was. And yet, s/he missed these symbolic, allegorical excerpts.
Symbolism, allegory, parable, allusion. There are subtle differences between these concepts, but they all coexist under the grand umbrella of “metaphorical meaning”, as opposed to “literal meaning”. To keep this article accessible, I use terms such as “symbolism” or “metaphor” interchangeably, that is, referring to any expression of non-literal meaning.
Symbolism in Literature: What exactly is Metaphorical Writing
There are many ways to approach symbolism in literature. For our purposes, the easiest way to understand it is as an alternative meaning. Therefore, metaphorical writing is writing that allows room for a second (or several) type(s) of meaning.
There are two factors you need to understand about writing and reading symbolism in fiction:
- Plausibility
- Familiarity
Let’s take a look at both of them one by one. Afterward, I’ll also show you a third element that is important in the context of metaphorical writing.
Plausibility
The plausibility of a potentially symbolic word, sentence, paragraph, chapter, or narrative, is how likely the alternative, non-literal meaning is. We usually infer this looking at things such as its relation with the wider context. A factor is also the weight of the literal meaning – i.e. how probable that is.
Consider the following (in)famous example, also found on my article on mixed metaphors:
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, III.i.56-87
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,
Nobody would read the above thinking of literally taking arms against a physical sea made of troubles, because the whole notion is patently absurdOf course, the presence of this mixed metaphor is what adds a destabilizing layer, probably (another metaphor!) alluding to Hamlet's mental state..
However, there are two important elements here. The first one is familiarity.
Familiarity
If you noticed the caption of the Lady Justice photo above, the more familiar you are with a particular piece of symbolism, the less surprising you will find its effect.
This is both good and bad, for the exact same reason: it allows fewer interpretations of the metaphor. It’s good because it leaves less room for misinterpretation, but it’s also bad because it’s less flexible.
Idiomatic phrases, for example, “He stole the show”, are so ubiquitous that virtually no English speaker with some cultural knowledge of the language would take them literally. They are symbolic, yes, but they are so familiar that we don’t even realize they are symbolic.
Of course, what also makes interpretation easier in this case is the short length of the symbolic text. It’s only a phrase. Which brings us to the third element, scope.
Scope
Here, scope refers to the extent of the symbolic text. The narrower the scope, the easier our inferencing (our decision how plausible metaphorical meaning is). Narrow scope also increases the chances of your being familiar with the symbolism in question.
But what if symbolism is not about mere figurative language, a sentence or even a paragraph? What if symbolism expands to cover a whole chapter or more?
Obviously, this reduces readers’ familiarity with the alternative meaning. We are no longer dealing with simple idioms and recognizable metaphors. Furthermore, it greatly increases complexity and makes it harder to judge plausibility.
Nonetheless, at the same time, extended symbolism allows for far richer narratives, operating on multiple layers simultaneously. Idioms such as “a sea of troubles” are impossible to interpret literally. This is clearly not the case for text spanning a whole chapter, that needs to still be sense-making in a literal sense.
So, how do you detect such symbolism as a reader? And how do you write it as a writer?
Readers: A How-To Guide for Detecting Symbolism in Literature
Reading extended symbolism is not an exact science. After all, it’s very difficult to read something that doesn’t “exist”. Furthermore, there are limitations in reading and interpreting meaning, especially symbolic meaning, as I will explain further below.
With these in mind, here’s a how-to guide for detecting and interpreting symbolism in literature, from the reader’s perspective.
Spot Register Changes
In our context, that is, use of symbolism in fiction, the term “register change” refers to a shift in the style, vocabulary, syntax, or other such element of language.
To understand what a register change is, take a look at the following two examples. It’s essentially the same text, but offered in two different registers.
Case A:
The voices seem familiar. I don’t know whose voices they are, but I know that I know these people. The thought feels bizarre somehow, but I don’t have the mind to think about such things right now.
Case B:
The voices are known to me. I am unaware of whose voices they are, but I have deducted that I know the identity of these people. The concept feels self-contradictory in some way, but I currently lack the concentration required to properly resolve the quandary.
Register changes in a narrative (particularly if they are unexplained literally – e.g. as a result of a character’s particular traits) can often be a flag drawing the reader’s attention to something.
Of course the example above exaggerates the shift, in order to explain what a register change is. In actual novels, shifts are much more subtle.
You might, for instance, notice that a narrative has begun to deploy a vocabulary related to, say, the divine. “Beautiful expression” becomes “angelic expression” and “attractive landscape” becomes “heavenly landscape”.
If you spot such shifts, it’s not unlikely – if the context allows it – that the narrative has entered symbolic territory. As for interpreting it? The new vocabulary can often supply clues. In this example, it might indicate a passage from one way of life to another, someone’s spiritual/ethical worries, and so on.
Spot Changes in Mood
Like with register shift, you can detect symbolism in literature by spotting changes in narrative mood.
Let’s say you’re in the process of reading a literary-fiction novel. If until this point the narrative has been dark, pessimistic, and self-reflecting, but then you notice the final part is cheery and hopeful in mood, with everything falling into place, this is rarely by chance; at least not with a competent writer, who has almost certainly intended it this way.
Interpretation depends on the context and, strongly, on register changes. In other words if, for example, the narrative becomes lighter and at the same time you spot a register shift toward using vocabulary related to sleep – “what a dreamy forest!” – it’s plausible the narrative means to convey the idea the events described are not actual but, say, the protagonist’s desire.
Spot Changes in Tense Usage
Remember my article on tense use in fiction? I had then said:
by introducing a different tense in a paragraph, in a scene, or in a chapter, you create an accent. You effectively draw the reader’s attention to there being a difference.
A chapter written in present tense inside a book written in past tense is, again, not an accident – at least it better not be! This is particularly the case if there are other supportive elements, such as the register or mood changes we saw earlier.
Consider the following paragraph, which opens chapter 22 in my novel The Other Side of Dreams:
A large yard, surrounded by a tall iron fence. A lustrous black raven on the looped top. Like a dream in which time is meaningless and everything that will happen already has, the curious bird looks at her since forever. Anna’s face is caressed by the sweet May sunset which, just like everything else, seems to have been forgotten by time. The sun is suspended in eternity, moving neither forward nor backward, waiting for Anna to do as she pleases.
Chris Angelis, The Other Side of Dreams
The reader entering this chapter sees present tense for the first time until that point in the narrative. That, in addition to the rather explicit references to dreaming, creates a more-or-less strong inference to this scene not necessarily being factualIn this particular example from The Other Side of Dreams, things become more complicated from the perspective of interpreting symbolism due to the fact that the pattern (i.e. present tense with register pertaining to dreaming) repeats later on, with additional clues that nudge the reader in a different direction. Take a look at the section further below, titled 'The Ping-Pong of Narrative Meaning.'.
Writers: A How-To Guide for Successful Symbolism in Literature
So far so good. We’ve seen what symbolism in literature refers to, and we’ve seen what, as a reader, you could look for in a novel to spot possible allegories, allusion, and symbolism in general.
But what if you’re a writer? How do you write symbolism in a novel, particularly of an extended scope?
A tongue-in-cheek thing to say here would be “just take all the stuff I wrote above, about reading, and apply it”.
The funny thing is, although it’s tongue-in-cheek, it’s not at all false. One dimension of writing symbolism is leaving breadcrumbs so that the readers can find the trail. In a sense, the accumulation of these deviations from the standard narrative style is what creates a meaning that isn’t written.
But this is only one dimension of writing symbolism in fiction. The other one – which is also the most challenging – is to actually have something to express.
Artistic expression is a grand discussion, inevitably escaping the confines of this post. Everything I write in my fiction writing tips pages is related to it, one way or another, so make sure to read those articles too.
Offering a summation of things to keep in mind, consider the following when introducing symbolism in your novel.
Pleasing Your Audience Is Thin Ice
Writing for an audience and writing for yourself are two very different things. To put it more bluntly, if you plan to produce a narrative that everyone (or even the majority) will “get”, like, and enjoy, I can guarantee you that it won’t work.
When it comes to symbolism, in particular, there is a continuum. On one end there’s a narrative that is virtually symbolism-free, and what you see is what you get. On the other end, there’s a narrative so abstractly opaque and surreal that only its author (maybe) can decipher its meaning.
I don’t advise either extreme. However, rather than producing a mediocre work with linear plot and pointless characters that thousands would certainly “get”, I’d much rather write a book that makes a dozen readers giggle like schoolgirls when they discover its hidden meanings. But that’s only a personal goal, not general advice.
The Ping-Pong of Narrative Meaning
Wallace Martin, in his 1986 Recent Theories of Narrative refers to the act of reading, pointing out (127) that “[w]e read events forward (the beginning will cause the end) and meaning backward (the end, once known, causes us to identify its beginning)”.
You should aim to exploit this, as a writer.
Many readers (sadly because they are conditioned so by poor writing) go through books very linearly. That is, they begin, they read through, they finish, and that’s it.
However, I’d like to believe there are still experienced, high-skilled readers out there. These, after finishing a novel, either go back and read it again to better understand certain things, or they are skilled enough to hold all the information in their mind and reevaluate meaning “on the go”.
For a writer, all this means that you can introduce something at a certain point which might have meaning A (perhaps a literal meaning), but which can be plausibly taken to acquire meaning B (perhaps a non-literal one) after certain portions of the text are reached.
I did something like this with one of my worksI am referring to Illiterary Fiction. Visit the link in the next paragraph of the post, on foreshadowing, to read more details about it.. I offered an extended textual chunk in the first part of the novel that operates both on the literal and on the metaphorical level.
As the former it is simply a part of the plot and the unfolding events. However, as the latter, it’s basically a description of the entire narrative, foreshadowing everything that will later occur. It’s a pretty common literary device.
Downplay the Importance of Plot, and Kill Over-Explaining
I’ve talked about how unimportant plot is, as well as about the dangers of over-explaining in writing. As a writer you need to understand both these elements before you can successfully deploy symbolism in your novel.
The reason is common for both, because they are both interconnected. Excessive emphasis on plot means less emphasis on character development, subtlety, and introspection – all integral aspects of non-literal meaning, precisely because it’s all about the ambiguous and the plausible (as opposed to the certain). There’s a reason poetic licence is called… poetic.
At the same time, a writer over-emphasizing plot inevitably falls into the trap of having to explain every little detail, trying to make sure the audience “gets it”. This put the last nail on the coffin of effective symbolism.
Just compare the following two (imaginary) examples to see what I mean by that last remark.
Case A:
He walked to the end of the beach and stood close to the rocks, which was the reason he could hear the crashing waves so well. Every now and then he also heard a whistling sound which, he thought, was coming from the sea. But he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was coming from the road behind him, and it was just a car.
Case B:
He walked to the rocks and stood there. The hypnotic chorus of the crashing waves was accented by a soloing whistle – maybe the sirens’ song, maybe not.
Notice how the first example focuses on plot (description, that is; who did what and why it happened) whereas the second example focuses on affect (what is felt, what it feels like) without caring about explanation. Which of the two is symbolically more powerful?
Limitations in Reading and Interpreting Symbolism in Literature
Having said all of the above, there’s one important detail I need to mention. It is a fact most readers (and writers!) ignore. Of course I’m talking about the inherently chaotic nature of meaning.
Although experienced readers understand that audiences can read things the author never intended, there are still many readers who hold very old-fashioned attitudes in regard to meaning. They believe that there is one interpretation a reader discovers in a book, and that’s what the author intended. End of story.
Let me use an example from my novel Illiterary Fiction. Paul has just finished reading to Stanley an excerpt from a novelIn an exercise in self-reference, the novel Paul reads to Stanley from is indeed another of my novels, The Other Side of Dreams! . Stanley wants to hear how the book ends. Paul tells him that the ending is ambiguous, but Stanley has a hard time understanding the concept.
“Ambiguous? What do you mean?”
Chris Angelis, Illiterary Fiction
“The ending is what the reader wants it to be.”
Stanley laughs once more, and most of the guests mimic it – though Paul feels comforted seeing that Rebecca and Amanda are among those few who refuse to participate and simply smile politely.
“How on earth can something written on a page be ambiguous?! Some things are either or. God, readers give me a headache sometimes!”
How Do such Limitations Affect a Reader’s Approach to Symbolic Texts?
Stanley’s response emphasizes the nature of the problem – though the character himself has obviously no idea. “How on earth can something written on a page be ambiguous?!”
The thing is, the very concept of symbolism in literature revolves around ambiguity. As a writer, you quite literally mean something other than what you wrote. As a reader, you quite literally read something that doesn’t exist.
But then, reading a novel, how do you know if something is symbolic or just nonsensical? That is, going back to the advice I offered in the sections further above, how do you know if something feels out of place because it’s symbolic, as opposed to because the author has done a poor writing job?
Ultimately, as with so many other things, it comes with experience. Most readers (even unconsciously) will try to make sense of a narrative, even if it looks nonsensical at first. In other words, a reader will create meaning if needed – if the text doesn’t readily supply it.
But there is a crucial threshold, where readers realize their interpretations become increasingly more ad hoc. The more experienced the reader, the faster this threshold comes. And then, typically, they decide that the narrative cannot be “salvaged” with the symbolism get-out-of-jail card. Read my review of Margaret Atwood’s The Heart Goes Last to see what I mean.
Symbolism in Literature: a Conclusion (not)
Symbolism in literature is a complex subject, and endless pages have been written about it. As with virtually anything complex, it is impossible to offer definitive answers. There are no simple answers to complex questions, remember.
In this article – which became quite long for the standards of this blog – I only offer you an outline and a set of things to help you start with.
Still, as I mentioned above, learning to successfully read and write symbolism in literature comes with experience. As for experience, that only comes with a lot of reading!