tag:theconversation.com,2011:/us/topics/story-plot-23595/articlesstory plot – The Conversation2019-04-11T10:42:17Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1144222019-04-11T10:42:17Z2019-04-11T10:42:17ZA happy ending for ‘Game of Thrones’? No thanks<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/268412/original/file-20190409-2921-r48rxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Game of Thrones' has taught audiences to never get too attached to any one character.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.hbo.com/content/dam/hbodata/series/game-of-thrones/video-stills/season-08/s8-trailer-1920.jpg">HBO</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>With the final season of HBO’s “Game of Thrones” commencing, I imagine most fans are harboring hopes that things will turn out well for the remaining heroes in Westeros.</p>
<p>A large part of me hopes for the same. But a different part of me – <a href="https://www.uvm.edu/cas/polisci/profiles/anthony-gierzynski">the part that researches the political effects of entertainment</a> – is pulling for a final season that is as brutally unjust as the first five seasons of the series. It wants the White Walkers to overrun the North and kill Jon Snow and Daenerys, or Cersei to betray the heroes after they battle the army of the dead, leaving no opposition to her claim to the Iron Throne. </p>
<p><a href="https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781498573986/The-Political-Effects-of-Entertainment-Media-How-Fictional-Worlds-Affect-Real-World-Political-Perspectives">A study I recently conducted</a> with some students on “Game of Thrones” colored my views on unhappy endings, revealing that perhaps television series and movies need more of them.</p>
<h2>Do good things happen to good people?</h2>
<p><a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1460-2466.2007.00374.x">People prefer stories with happy endings</a>. For this reason, most stories developed for mass audiences – whether they’re books, films or TV shows – will conclude with the protagonist rewarded for doing the right thing. </p>
<p>All those happy endings, however, have political consequences – at least according to one researcher.</p>
<p>In <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.2007.00374.x">a 2007 study</a>, communication psychologist <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=tqt4hn0AAAAJ&hl=en">Markus Appel</a> showed that the more fictional narratives people see, the more likely they are to believe in a just world. </p>
<p>What does this belief have to do with politics? Well, <a href="https://www.springer.com/us/book/9780306404955">when you believe in a just world</a>, you tend to think that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. </p>
<p>This worldview then influences support for certain policies. For example, if you believe in a just world, you would probably believe that poor people deserve to be poor. Not surprisingly, the worldview has been associated with lower support for <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-9221.2006.00506.x">antipoverty programs</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/psj.12063">affirmative action</a>. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1540-4560.1975.tb00997.x">It’s also been associated with</a> negative feelings about the poor and support for authoritarianism.</p>
<p>The belief in a just world seems to be activated as a psychological response to experiencing the discomfort of witnessing victims of abuse, crime, economic catastrophe and war. Rather than force someone to grapple with the complex emotions evoked by these victims, this worldview operates like a shield – why devote emotional energy and resources to these people if they deserve what they got?</p>
<h2>Can ‘Game of Thrones’ color your worldview?</h2>
<p>When it debuted in 2011, “Game of Thrones” wasn’t like most other shows.</p>
<p>It didn’t just abandon the typical plot in which protagonists are rewarded for doing the right thing. It went as far as possible in the opposite direction, feeding viewers a relentless diet of cruel and brutal injustices. </p>
<p>Plot developments included a sadistic young king ordering the beheading of the lead character; a slaughter of unarmed guests at a wedding; physical and psychological torture; and marriages forced on young girls, who are then raped and sexually assaulted. The show taught audiences to never get too attached to any one character because that character, in all likelihood, would meet a cruel and unjust fate.</p>
<p>I wondered: If Appel found that fictional narratives with happy endings increased belief in a just world, could exposure to the repeated injustices of “Game of Thrones” do the opposite and reduce audiences’ tendency to believe in a just world? </p>
<p>My students and I set about devising ways to test for such an effect. Over two semesters we carried out a survey and an experiment, and I followed that work up with a second experiment. </p>
<p>For the survey and experiment we recruited participants through social media. I randomly assigned those volunteers to three groups, asking subjects in one group to watch six episodes of “Game of Thrones,” subjects in the second group to watch six episodes of “True Blood” – a show that depicts a more just world – and subjects in the third group to just fill out the survey. For the second experiment I randomly assigned students in a large class to watch either five episodes of “Game of Thrones” or the movie “The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies.”</p>
<p>In the studies, <a href="https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781498573986/The-Political-Effects-of-Entertainment-Media-How-Fictional-Worlds-Affect-Real-World-Political-Perspectives">we found</a> that exposure to “Game of Thrones” was associated with or resulted in lower levels of just world beliefs. These findings held true even while taking into consideration other characteristics of the respondents. </p>
<p>In other words, exposure to “Game of Thrones” seemed to have an effect on viewers that was more akin to consuming the news than to exposure to other fictional stories. </p>
<p>I’m hoping “Game of Thrones” has an unhappy ending because, sadly, unhappy endings mimic reality. I recognize the need to occasionally escape from the ugliness of the real world into fictional ones with happy endings. But in a media environment dominated by entertainment, it’s also important to be periodically shocked into remembering that things don’t always work out so nicely. </p>
<p>That was the value I saw in the first five seasons of “Game of Thrones” – and that’s why I want to see it end badly.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/114422/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anthony Gierzynski does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The vast majority of stories told in movies, in books and on television conclude with happy endings – and this has real-world political consequences.Anthony Gierzynski, Professor and Chair of Political Science, University of VermontLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/957482018-05-11T10:51:52Z2018-05-11T10:51:52ZThe science of the plot twist – how writers exploit our brains<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/218492/original/file-20180510-34018-1a07yel.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-vector/pencil-brain-55200154?src=bgOqUTrqnzTGomatbq8E3w-1-27">Shutterstock.com/tsaplia</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Recently I did something that many people would consider unthinkable, or at least perverse. Before going to see “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4154756/">Avengers: Infinity War</a>,” I deliberately read a review that revealed all of the major plot points, from start to finish. </p>
<p>Don’t worry; I’m not going to share any of those spoilers here. Though I do think the aversion to spoilers – what The New York Times’ A.O. Scott <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/24/movies/avengers-infinity-war-review.html">recently lamented</a> as “a phobic, hypersensitive taboo against public discussion of anything that happens onscreen” – is a bit overblown.</p>
<p>As <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=SeGl108AAAAJ&hl=en">a cognitive scientist who studies the relationship between cognition and narratives</a>, I know that movies – like all stories – exploit our natural tendency to anticipate what’s coming next. </p>
<p>These cognitive tendencies help explain why plot twists can be so satisfying. But somewhat counterintuitively, they also explain why knowing about a plot twist ahead of time – the dreaded “spoiler” – doesn’t really spoil the experience at all.</p>
<h2>The curse of knowledge</h2>
<p>When you pick up a book for the first time, you usually want to have some sense of what you’re signing up for – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cozy_mystery">cozy mysteries</a>, for instance, aren’t supposed to feature graphic violence and sex. But you’re probably also hoping that what you read won’t be entirely predictable.</p>
<p>To some extent, the fear of spoilers is well-grounded. You only have one opportunity to learn something for the first time. Once you’ve learned it, that knowledge affects what you notice, what you anticipate – and even the limits of your imagination.</p>
<p>What we know trips us up in lots of ways, a general tendency known as the “<a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/17576275">curse of knowledge</a>.” </p>
<p>For example, when we know the answer to a puzzle, that knowledge makes it harder for us to estimate how difficult that puzzle will be for someone else to solve: We’ll assume it’s <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0749596X96900091">easier</a> than it really is. </p>
<p>When we know the resolution of an event – whether it’s a basketball game or an election – we tend to <a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/record/1976-00159-001">overestimate</a> how likely that outcome was. </p>
<p>Information we encounter early on influences our estimation of what is possible later. It doesn’t matter whether we’re reading a story or negotiating a salary: Any initial starting point for our reasoning – however arbitrary or apparently irrelevant – “<a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/17835457">anchors</a>” our analysis. In <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16382081">one study</a>, legal experts given a hypothetical criminal case argued for longer sentences when presented with larger numbers on randomly rolled dice. </p>
<h2>Plot twists pull everything together</h2>
<p>Either consciously or intuitively, good writers know all of this. </p>
<p>An effective narrative works its magic, in part, by taking advantage of these, and other, predictable habits of thought. <a href="http://www.literarydevices.com/red-herring/">Red herrings</a>, for example, are a type of anchor that set false expectations – and can make twists seem more surprising.</p>
<p>A major part of the pleasure of plot twists, too, comes not from the shock of surprise, but from looking back at the early bits of the narrative in light of the twist. The most satisfying surprises get their power from giving us a fresh, better way of making sense of the material that came before. This is another opportunity for stories to turn the curse of knowledge to their advantage.</p>
<p>Remember that once we know the answer to a puzzle, its clues can seem more transparent than they really were. When we revisit early parts of the story in light of that knowledge, well-constructed clues take on new, satisfying significance. </p>
<p>Consider “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0167404/">The Sixth Sense</a>.” After unleashing its big plot twist – that Bruce Willis’ character has, all along, been one of the “dead people” that only the child protagonist can see – it presents a flash reprisal of scenes that make new sense in light of the surprise. We now see, for instance, that his wife (in fact, his widow) did not snatch up the check at a restaurant before he could take it out of pique. Instead it was because, as far as she knew, she was dining alone. </p>
<p>Even years after the film’s release, viewers take pleasure in this twist, <a href="https://www.bustle.com/articles/33625-the-sixth-sense-surprise-ending-is-obvious-if-you-pay-attention-to-these-6-clues">savoring the degree</a> to which it should be “obvious if you pay attention” to earlier parts the film. </p>
<h2>The pluses and minuses of the spoiler</h2>
<p>At the same time, studies show that even when people are <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/0749596X89900016">certain of an outcome</a>, they reliably experience suspense, surprise and emotion. Action sequences are still heart-pounding; jokes are still funny; and poignant moments can still make us cry.</p>
<p>As UC San Diego researchers Jonathan Levitt and Nicholas Christenfeld have recently <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21841150">demonstrated</a>, spoilers don’t spoil. In many cases, <a href="https://theconversation.com/enough-with-the-spoiler-alerts-plot-spoilers-often-increase-enjoyment-62154">spoilers actively enhance enjoyment</a>.</p>
<p>In fact, when a major turn in a narrative is truly unanticipated, it can have a catastrophic effect on enjoyment – as <a href="https://ftw.usatoday.com/2018/04/avengers-infinity-war-ending-reactions-twitter">many outraged</a> “Infinity War” viewers can testify. </p>
<p>If you know the twist beforehand, the curse of knowledge has more time to work its magic. Early elements of the story will seem to presage the ending more clearly when you know what that ending is. This can make the work as a whole feel more coherent, unified and satisfying.</p>
<p>Of course, anticipation is a delicious pleasure in its own right. Learning plot twists ahead of time can reduce that excitement, even if the foreknowledge doesn’t ruin your enjoyment of the story itself. </p>
<p>Marketing experts know that what spoilers <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1057740815000467">do spoil</a> is the urgency of consumers’ desire to watch or read a story. People can even find themselves so sapped of interest and anticipation that they stay home, robbing themselves of the pleasure they would have had if they’d simply never learned of the outcome.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/95748/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Vera Tobin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Our minds are wired to anticipate what’s coming next – and fill in the gaps when we don’t have all the information.Vera Tobin, Assistant Professor of Cognitive Science, Case Western Reserve UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/869652017-11-09T15:04:18Z2017-11-09T15:04:18ZMurder on the Orient Express: why go to see remake when we know how it ends?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193952/original/file-20171109-27111-siukss.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">21st Century Fox</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>For the distinguished crime novelist PD James, Agatha Christie’s distinctive contribution to the genre lies not in thematic complexity nor stylistic prowess, but in the meticulous fashioning of mysteries. In her 2009 book Talking About Detective Fiction, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/07/books/07book.html">James wrote that Christie</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… is a literary conjuror who places her pasteboard characters face downwards and shuffles them with practised cunning … Game after game we are confident that this time we will turn up the card with the face of the true murderer, and time after time she defeats us.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>If James is correct, however, and the satisfaction of a Christie story comes from its surprising plotting, then Kenneth Branagh’s new film adaptation of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/nov/05/murder-on-the-orient-express-review-kenneth-branagh">Murder on the Orient Express</a> would appear to be in difficulty. </p>
<p>It might be stretching things to claim that the plot of Murder on the Orient Express, written by Christie in 1934, is as familiar as that of Hamlet. Nevertheless, the identity in this instance of “the true murderer” is part of global cultural knowledge. Branagh’s film is after all merely the latest in a series of adaptations that include work for the big screen (Sidney Lumet’s <a href="https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/murder_on_the_orient_express/">Oscar-winning 1974 version</a>) and for TV (in 2001 and 2010), as well as for BBC Radio (1992-93).</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Mq4m3yAoW8E?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>The plot’s secrets have also been disclosed in other books, films and TV shows with wide popular reach. An <a href="http://agathachristie.wikia.com/wiki/The_Unicorn_and_the_Wasp">episode of Doctor Who in 2008</a>, featuring Agatha Christie as a character, reveals “who did it”. Intriguingly, even Christie herself gave the attentive reader clues as to what happened on the Orient Express when she revived the character of Hercule Poirot in <a href="http://agathachristie.wikia.com/wiki/Cards_on_the_Table">Cards on the Table</a> (1936). </p>
<p>So, while some people may still be unfamiliar with the outcome of Murder on the Orient Express, many others will already be knowledgeable. Why, then, choose to watch Branagh’s film, with its unfolding of a familiar storyline? Christie’s own casual approach to narrative secrets in Cards on the Table is helpful here in freeing us from obsession with plot and prompting us to look instead for other sources of interest, both thematic and stylistic. </p>
<h2>Nostalgia film</h2>
<p>Recent critical approaches to Christie’s fiction have explored its constructions of gender, sexuality, class and nation. Studies such as JC Bernthal’s <a href="https://www.palgrave.com/de/book/9783319335322">Queering Agatha Christie</a> (2016) have given the work new life, helping to free it from nostalgic trappings of vicarage and country house. Such revisionism, prompted by current social issues, is available not only to scholars but to anyone who adapts Christie.</p>
<p>In Branagh’s film, unfortunately, there are few signs the source material from the 1930s has been radically rethought. True, Colonel Arbuthnot is no longer the white British officer of the novel – but instead an African-American doctor. Elsewhere, however, the political and cultural traditions of Christie’s own period survive intact. Branagh’s Poirot, for example, reasserts a robust masculinity that contrasts with the vulnerability and torment conveyed by David Suchet in the <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/tvandradio/8222755/David-Suchets-Poirot-finally-boards-the-Orient-Express.html">2010 ITV adaptation</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=848&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=848&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=848&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1065&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1065&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193956/original/file-20171109-27106-9h7ksj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1065&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The cast of Sidney Lumet’s Oscar-winning 1974 version starring Albert Finney as Poirot.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Amazon</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The new adaptation is in other respects, too, less abrasive than its screen predecessors. It opens in bright sunlight, unlike Lumet’s big-screen version that begins visually and acoustically like film noir. It also avoids the violence of the ITV adaptation, which starts with a woman’s stoning in Istanbul and later shows the villain’s murder in all its goriness.</p>
<p>“Let horizons, décors and fashions lull you asleep,” as the <a href="https://www.belmond.com/trains/asia/eastern-and-oriental-express/">Orient Express’s own website</a> puts it. Branagh’s adaptation largely follows the comfortable rhythms of the luxury train from which it takes its title. Nostalgia powers this approach to Christie’s material, rather than ruder sources of energy. </p>
<h2>Exercising the eye</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.bfi.org.uk/education-research/film-industry-statistics-research/weekend-box-office-figures">Box office returns</a> indicate that Murder on the Orient Express is currently the most popular film in the UK. Since it does not rewrite Christie’s plot, however, or offer significant thematic innovations, what might be the secret of its success?</p>
<p>Here it may be helpful to turn to very early film history and what has been called the “<a href="http://film110.pbworks.com/w/page/12610307/The%20Cinema%20of%20Attraction">cinema of attractions</a>”. This term refers to a body of films that offered exciting or unusual spectacles, rather than complex stories. The new Murder on the Orient Express should be thought of as a lavishly resourced “attraction” of this kind that is thereby able to enthuse viewers who know in advance whodunnit. </p>
<p>Where the narrative is familiar to them, spectators may instead be diverted by identifying the film’s many stars. The camera alights successively on actors who include Judi Dench, Johnny Depp and Michelle Pfeiffer. There is the pleasure, too, of comparing Branagh visually and dramatically with earlier screen versions of Poirot. </p>
<p>“It is an exercise, this, of the brain,” says Poirot in Christie’s novel as clues accumulate. Audiences already knowing the solution to the puzzle, however, will find the new film chiefly exercising their eyes instead. Where there is mental challenge, it may be to assess the effects of a high-angle interior shot, say, not to work out whose embroidered handkerchief was left in the dead man’s compartment.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193953/original/file-20171109-27108-bmqwbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Judy Dench as Princess Dragomiroff with her maid, Hildegarde Schmidt.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">21st Century Fox</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a short provocation called <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/10/in-defense-of-spoilers/381026/">In Defense of Spoilers</a>, Jonathan Rosenbaum argues that worrying about revealing a film’s storyline is not “a fit activity for grown-ups”. It exhibits narrow thinking that “privileges plot over style”. Why, asks Rosenbaum, is it frowned upon to say Orson Welles’ 1958 masterpiece <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2015/jul/09/touch-of-evil-review-orson-welles">Touch of Evil</a> “begins with a time bomb exploding but [not] to say that the movie begins with a lengthy crane shot?”</p>
<p>It is thus not bad manners to give away the new film’s stylistic features. Branagh has chosen, for example, to use large-format, 65mm stock which gives a rich texture. There are swooping panoramas and extended tracking shots that impart movement, even as the train is stuck in snow. Such visual detailing is not secondary or unimportant, however, but actually essential to the pleasure of those watching who already know who wielded the knife.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86965/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andrew Dix does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Just about everyone knows whodunnit. But there are other reasons to see a movie than just the plot.Andrew Dix, Lecturer in American Studies, Loughborough UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/521342015-12-18T11:05:31Z2015-12-18T11:05:31ZWhat stories should you be telling kids this holiday season?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/106514/original/image-20151217-8065-1pxv0wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Why do we tell stories?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/seandreilinger/3982067599/in/photolist-74T8XV-9hggbJ-2xZEWp-iWbod-8KNCte-9VVXjZ-bh1ZCV-ocBtah-4WFUDx-5ZU9T8-rfxAk4-9hEM7d-hzXLSc-q8Y8P-uV5V6U-o7vE7P-7q3PXY-6FsRmT-8fy57p-bnFsUH-bnFQKg-hXQuNS-zwo1Ti-jdWYVq-9jH7ih-7koAyk-6cHTqz-pL6rhP-fabNw2-7SFBeD-7MAQXH-4MuFyG-dP9hce-zdPBjF-egdpx2-bnGh24-aiu2Qs-6XAoRs-iHs8yE-f9eGYo-oZjReP-a644B1-HM8kv-pUdgPZ-9VW2PP-9VYLNQ-6ahS2Y-mQ1Bkp-dSd9EU-9VW5ai">PROsean dreilinger</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In <a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/111/39/14027.full.pdf">every culture</a> that anthropologists have ever studied, people tell stories.</p>
<p>Families most frequently tell stories around the <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/marshall-p-duke/prime-time-for-families_b_781229.html">time of vacations</a>, family reunions, (sadly) funerals, Thanksgiving and, of course, the family-oriented winter holidays of Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. </p>
<p>Stories are told about times past, times present and even times yet to be. These stories mix real people and places with imaginary people and places. For instance, there was never anyone called Sherlock Holmes, but the town he lived in – London – is real. The street he lived on – Baker Street – is also real. But there is no 221B – his house number in the story.</p>
<p>So, why do we tell these stories?</p>
<p>For more than two decades, my colleague, Robyn Fivush, and I have been studying the importance of family stories at Emory University’s Family Narratives Project, which conducts research on how people remember and narrate the events of their lives. And we have found that the more children know about their own family history, the <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22122420">healthier</a> and more resilient they are. </p>
<p>There are a variety of forms that family stories take. It has been our experience that the so-called “bad stories” – in which bad things happen to good people – do more to immunize children and build resilience than happy ones. </p>
<h2>What stories do families tell?</h2>
<p>Most families have stories that parallel the <a href="http://www.bloomsbury.com/us/the-seven-basic-plots-9780826480378/">Seven Basic Plots</a> proposed by journalist Christopher Booker. </p>
<p>Briefly, these plots are: the Quest (think Lord of the Rings), Voyage and Return (Ulysses), Rags to Riches (Cinderella), Tragedy (King Lear), Comedy (Will Ferrell movie), Rebirth (The Ugly duckling, Shrek), and Overcoming the Monster (Star Wars’ Darth Vader).</p>
<p>Generally, all of the family story plots contribute to a sense of history and resilience in families. But when dealing with difficult times, families tell the “voyage and return” and “overcoming the monster” stories.</p>
<p>Our interviews with professionals working on rehabilitation, patients and patients’ families show that the narrative plot – “voyage and return” – is arguably <a href="https://scholarblogs.emory.edu/journalofhumanitiesinrehabilitation/2015/07/08/a-voyage-homeward-fiction-and-family-storiesresilience-and-rehabilitation/">the form most commonly</a> taken by family stories to talk about illnesses and recovery. </p>
<p>For instance, many families use “journey” metaphors when talking about illnesses. One family we interviewed, for example, saw the emergency room, the hospital, the rehabilitation center and the outpatient treatment center as “stations” (ports) along the way back home. </p>
<p>Another family talked about how long the “trip” had been from injury to recovery. This plot line works because it is so easily understood by people of all ages. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/106520/original/image-20151217-8071-abgylt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">What plot lines do families use in times of adversity?</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/theloushe/3989064368/in/photolist-75uZRS-7wiqf7-a8ik7Z-3bf6v-7B1mni-4s5Bji-7GUDjZ-kubHxz-5q7NPN-61T9Mr-aGBAiZ-d7TrX7-dUhkJU-cYzbbY-hD5a6-a8ikvp-ddFUm2-4uhvqt-4umyGA-dpv7M6-dpv7JR-dpv7NH-38VB2k-9RUyG3-kudGy5-kudWFd-kua71c-8kjcKG-6fomdy-ku9F7B-kubTmF-kucUP8-kueaTA-kubpxB-kubWwv-uKSces-uMJ4UC-uvJGic-uKSdp3-uNroJt-tRb9Dh-uvJJEX-uvAXXy-uvASpb-uNrpzB-uNbPBi-uvAW7Q-tRbauf-tRkSaV-tRbaKL">Jessica Lucia</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Such “voyage and return” stories provide hope in times of present and future illnesses. They teach that, with time and care, people who have “traveled” into a far-off land of infirmity can and do return. </p>
<p>Based on my four decades of experience as a licensed clinical psychologist and on the hundreds of interviews we did at the Family Narratives Project over an 10-year period, it’s my belief that knowing such stories helps people get through their own illnesses and those of their loved ones. </p>
<p>Voyage and return is just one of the seven basic plots that we have found in family stories. An illness or injury from which someone does not recover becomes a “Tragedy story.” Very often, comedic details are added to even the most trying of narratives. </p>
<p>Generally, it’s been our experience that stories are recounted on an “as needed” basis. And stories may have more than one type of plot. So, if a child is having trouble in math, a grandparent might tell the child about how the same thing happened to the child’s mom or dad and how he or she overcame the challenge. </p>
<h2>Overcoming the monster</h2>
<p>While not entirely separate from the “voyage and return” story, another of the seven basic family story plots that our research shows is important for children to hear is <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/marshall-p-duke/the-seven-basic-stories-f_b_6951714.html">“overcoming the monster”</a>. </p>
<p>These stories describe how people in the family dealt with hardships, traumatic events or unpredictable challenges. Often, grandparents would describe overcoming the financial challenges of economic downturns, or parents would describe being bullied as children. </p>
<p>There could be other stories about relatives or friends who experienced horrific events, resulting in injuries or even deaths of loved ones – all of these could be considered stories about overcoming some sort of “monster.” </p>
<p>The power of such stories rests in their being told long after they have been resolved and the tellers and listeners are safe or have successfully coped with their challenges. These stories <a href="http://www.njfamily.com/NJ-Family/November-2013/Raising-Resilient-Kids/">teach resilience</a>.</p>
<p>They teach that ordinary people can rise to heroic levels if they are called upon to do so. They teach us that no matter how scary the “monster” or how intimidated we are, we can prevail.</p>
<h2>What stories should we tell?</h2>
<p>Does this mean we should tell only positive stories?</p>
<p>Many parent groups that I have spoken with fear telling their children so-called “bad stories” in which bad things happen to good people. </p>
<p>However, it has been our experience that bad stories do more to immunize children and build resilience than happy ones. We have theorized that this is because hearing about overcoming bad things tells children that they are part of a family that “rises above” and faces problems squarely. </p>
<p>When similar challenges then face the children themselves, they have role models to turn to. </p>
<p>To be sure, both good and bad plots are necessary in the set of stories that children know about their families. It helps kids the kids to know that people they are related to are strong enough to have overcome “monsters” in the past.</p>
<p>This helps them realize that when they come upon their own “monsters,” they will be able to overcome them as well.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/52134/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Marshall Duke received funding from the Sloan Foundation. The funding period has ended.</span></em></p>Want to build resilience in children? Tell them family stories of courage.Marshall Duke, Professor of Psychology, Emory UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.