(no subject)
На недавней встрече книжного клуба у нас завязалось обсуждение, действительно ли писателю проще писать от первого лица. Параллельно я последние пару недель зачем-то смотрю лекции на курсэре про писательство (creative writing), и там курс как раз тоже дошел до темы различения, от чьего лица написан текст и как это на него влияет. В качестве практического задания было дано написать небольшую сцену от первого лица и потом ее же от "вездесущего третьего", которое наблюдает за всей этой активностью со стороны.
Чисто для иллюстрации, что я написала (переводить на русский мне лень, простите. Еще калек наваляю, там и так не шедевр).
[От первого лица:]
От первого лица:
The pipes played the greeting, the Master of Ceremonies announced: “Lady Dagmar of Highlands!” and heavy doors of King’s Reception opened before me. I briefly checked my belt for the sword - the sword wasn’t there, as I had to give up all my weapons before being admitted to the royal presence - sighed and stepped forward into the vast and well-lit room, smelling of perfume and old furniture. I was the last one and everybody in the room now stared at me.
The King - a stately man with a face well-familiar from all the coins. The Queen - a fair lady, keeping half a step behind her spouse. Four other knights from across the kingdom.
Perhaps I should’ve changed. I did ride for the previous three weeks almost without stopping, and my travel suit - part armour - served well on the road but looked glaringly out of place in the King’s Reception. The other four were all in their best clothes, with bands and medals, no doubt, well deserved.
At the central spot and closest to the King stood a knight I have heard of but was lucky to never meet before. Lord Dirk, some remote relative of the King, was a good fighter once upon a time, but those years were long forgotten by all, except Lord Dirk himself. He had a reputation of a drunkard and a womanizer, and although he was about as attractive as a solitary confinement in a tower - in fact, I’d prefer the confinement - he wasn’t a stranger to using force to get his way, and ladies visiting the capital would be advised by any and every well-wisher to stay away from him. Which I did successfully in the years past, but, unfortunately, not this time. I regretted the absence of my sword again.
Next to Lord Dirk stood Lord Til, whom I did meet before. He was a winner of several tournaments in the capital and across the country, nicknamed “Poet” for his customary mannerism but didn’t seem to mind it. He was the only one who did not look surprised to see me there and slightly nodded in greeting.
On the other side of the King there were two knights unknown to me. Judging from their clothing, they were from the South. Both tall and slim, strangely similar to each other, they had something predatory in their appearances and looked dangerous. I wouldn’t want to fight against them. Certainly not now, when I can hardly stand, but even well-rested, don’t think I would’ve had great chances. They looked at me with open and unashamed curiosity.
“Well,” said the King. “I am glad to see you all here, and I would like to tell you about your quest.”
[От третьего лица:]
От третьего лица:
The pipes played the greeting, the Master of Ceremonies announced: “Lady Dagmar of Highlands!” and heavy doors of King’s Reception opened once again, letting inside a young lady. Before her came the smell of a long ride, of human sweat and horse sweat, and dust of the road. The lady was tall and looked strong, was dressed simply in leather armour, had her brown hair plaited, and squinted slightly, as if looking against the sun. She briefly touched her belt as if checking for a sword, which could not be there as no weapons were allowed in the King’s Reception and looked at those present with a challenge. They, in their turn, looked at her.
Lord Dirk, the King’s relative, who stood right opposite the door, had the best view of the newcomer. He himself had broad shoulders and large belly, his face was reddened, and the nose had a characteristic purple colour. He leaned slightly forward running his eyes on the lady’s figure, and on meeting his gaze her face hardened and she again touched her belt, where the sword was still absent. She looked pointedly away.
Next to Lord Dirk stood Lord Til, a famous fighter and winner of many tournaments. The medals on his chest told the story. He was exquisitely dressed, more so than the other knights, and smelled of expensive perfume. He nodded to the lady, and she nodded and lightly smiled back at him.
On the other side of the King there were two southern knights, who saw the lady with interest. The knights looked like brothers, tall and slim, one of them had dark hair and tanned skin, the other one was fair and blond. They exchanged glances and small gestures as the lady progressed through the room, and a couple more glances, noticing her interaction with the others.
The King watched the knights from his place at the top of the room. He frowned slightly and looked at the Queen, who habitually placed herself half a step behind him. The Queen smiled reassuringly and briefly put her hand on his arm. The King nodded and stepped forward to speak.
“Well,” he said. “I am glad to see you all here, and I would like to tell you about your quest.”
И что я по этому поводу хочу сказать.
Писать от первого лица действительно оказалось проще. Этот отрывок я набросала, почти не думая, а переписывая его же в третьем лице - упарилась. Плюс, в третьем лице стала совершенно очевидной бессмысленность этой сцены, потому что в ней вообще ничего не происходит. То есть, ее можно начисто вырезать и отложить описания присутствующих до тех пор, пока они не войдут в фокус истории (а то там ведь кроме рыцарей еще, небось, полторы сотни придворных, что ж теперь, их всех описывать?) В первом лице сцена не то, чтобы живее, но ее как-то можно оправдать размышлениями героини.
С другой стороны, вот лично мне в первом лице тоже не всегда комфортно - мне кажется, для первого лица нужна высокая степень вживания в характер. Если я пишу истории, то мне проще писать в условно третьем лице, когда камера смотрит через плечо героя и местами проникает в его мысли. То есть, уровень слияния не настолько глубокий, как в первом лице, но и угол зрения не настолько широкий, как в настоящем третьем лице. И мысли читать все-таки немного можно, не обязательно упираться во внешние проявления.
Про сам курс тоже еще потом как-нибудь напишу, когда дослушаю - пока где-то на середине.
Чисто для иллюстрации, что я написала (переводить на русский мне лень, простите. Еще калек наваляю, там и так не шедевр).
[От первого лица:]
От первого лица:
The pipes played the greeting, the Master of Ceremonies announced: “Lady Dagmar of Highlands!” and heavy doors of King’s Reception opened before me. I briefly checked my belt for the sword - the sword wasn’t there, as I had to give up all my weapons before being admitted to the royal presence - sighed and stepped forward into the vast and well-lit room, smelling of perfume and old furniture. I was the last one and everybody in the room now stared at me.
The King - a stately man with a face well-familiar from all the coins. The Queen - a fair lady, keeping half a step behind her spouse. Four other knights from across the kingdom.
Perhaps I should’ve changed. I did ride for the previous three weeks almost without stopping, and my travel suit - part armour - served well on the road but looked glaringly out of place in the King’s Reception. The other four were all in their best clothes, with bands and medals, no doubt, well deserved.
At the central spot and closest to the King stood a knight I have heard of but was lucky to never meet before. Lord Dirk, some remote relative of the King, was a good fighter once upon a time, but those years were long forgotten by all, except Lord Dirk himself. He had a reputation of a drunkard and a womanizer, and although he was about as attractive as a solitary confinement in a tower - in fact, I’d prefer the confinement - he wasn’t a stranger to using force to get his way, and ladies visiting the capital would be advised by any and every well-wisher to stay away from him. Which I did successfully in the years past, but, unfortunately, not this time. I regretted the absence of my sword again.
Next to Lord Dirk stood Lord Til, whom I did meet before. He was a winner of several tournaments in the capital and across the country, nicknamed “Poet” for his customary mannerism but didn’t seem to mind it. He was the only one who did not look surprised to see me there and slightly nodded in greeting.
On the other side of the King there were two knights unknown to me. Judging from their clothing, they were from the South. Both tall and slim, strangely similar to each other, they had something predatory in their appearances and looked dangerous. I wouldn’t want to fight against them. Certainly not now, when I can hardly stand, but even well-rested, don’t think I would’ve had great chances. They looked at me with open and unashamed curiosity.
“Well,” said the King. “I am glad to see you all here, and I would like to tell you about your quest.”
[От третьего лица:]
От третьего лица:
The pipes played the greeting, the Master of Ceremonies announced: “Lady Dagmar of Highlands!” and heavy doors of King’s Reception opened once again, letting inside a young lady. Before her came the smell of a long ride, of human sweat and horse sweat, and dust of the road. The lady was tall and looked strong, was dressed simply in leather armour, had her brown hair plaited, and squinted slightly, as if looking against the sun. She briefly touched her belt as if checking for a sword, which could not be there as no weapons were allowed in the King’s Reception and looked at those present with a challenge. They, in their turn, looked at her.
Lord Dirk, the King’s relative, who stood right opposite the door, had the best view of the newcomer. He himself had broad shoulders and large belly, his face was reddened, and the nose had a characteristic purple colour. He leaned slightly forward running his eyes on the lady’s figure, and on meeting his gaze her face hardened and she again touched her belt, where the sword was still absent. She looked pointedly away.
Next to Lord Dirk stood Lord Til, a famous fighter and winner of many tournaments. The medals on his chest told the story. He was exquisitely dressed, more so than the other knights, and smelled of expensive perfume. He nodded to the lady, and she nodded and lightly smiled back at him.
On the other side of the King there were two southern knights, who saw the lady with interest. The knights looked like brothers, tall and slim, one of them had dark hair and tanned skin, the other one was fair and blond. They exchanged glances and small gestures as the lady progressed through the room, and a couple more glances, noticing her interaction with the others.
The King watched the knights from his place at the top of the room. He frowned slightly and looked at the Queen, who habitually placed herself half a step behind him. The Queen smiled reassuringly and briefly put her hand on his arm. The King nodded and stepped forward to speak.
“Well,” he said. “I am glad to see you all here, and I would like to tell you about your quest.”
И что я по этому поводу хочу сказать.
Писать от первого лица действительно оказалось проще. Этот отрывок я набросала, почти не думая, а переписывая его же в третьем лице - упарилась. Плюс, в третьем лице стала совершенно очевидной бессмысленность этой сцены, потому что в ней вообще ничего не происходит. То есть, ее можно начисто вырезать и отложить описания присутствующих до тех пор, пока они не войдут в фокус истории (а то там ведь кроме рыцарей еще, небось, полторы сотни придворных, что ж теперь, их всех описывать?) В первом лице сцена не то, чтобы живее, но ее как-то можно оправдать размышлениями героини.
С другой стороны, вот лично мне в первом лице тоже не всегда комфортно - мне кажется, для первого лица нужна высокая степень вживания в характер. Если я пишу истории, то мне проще писать в условно третьем лице, когда камера смотрит через плечо героя и местами проникает в его мысли. То есть, уровень слияния не настолько глубокий, как в первом лице, но и угол зрения не настолько широкий, как в настоящем третьем лице. И мысли читать все-таки немного можно, не обязательно упираться во внешние проявления.
Про сам курс тоже еще потом как-нибудь напишу, когда дослушаю - пока где-то на середине.