Dialogue is among the most important literary devices an author can use. Whether it is used as a means for advancing the plot, as an opportunity to shed light on the characteristics of a character, or simply as a method for building an atmosphere, dialogues are a fundamental part of literature. Having recently read Shelley’s The Last Man, I realized that the main weakness of the work is its lack of dialogues, without which character development is sure to fail. What superficiality of character, strikingly eminent despite the long pages of supposed character-building. Let the author describe a character throughout half the work, we would still not feel related to it unless that character is shown through deeds and words. Description results in second-handed acquaintanceship. However, it seems that even when they did have the sense to add dialogues to their works, many classical authors simply lacked the talent of creating a truly artful dialogue.
If so, what makes a dialogue ‘great’?
That question is quite intricate, and requires a detailed answer. Therefore, I’d like to start with some examples of dialogues which, while not being bad, certainly can’t be called good by my standards, and will help me shed a light on some of the aspects contributing to the quality of a dialogue. However, one thing is certain: for a dialogue to excel it ought to be significant. The perfect display of literary techniques in a meaningless conversation will forever fall short in terms of effect, and is therefore unworthy of this discussion.
Note that I will be discussing mainly 19th and 20th century classics, since the dialogues within them best resemble dialogues in the current age. One cannot truly gain insight into the style of ancient everyday dialogues, as we’re destined to perpetually view them through the prisms of historians.
The Dialogue of Alyosha and Ivan Karamazov (The Brothers Karamazov)
This particular dialogue left a great impact upon me while reading The Brothers Karamazov. Even without scrutinizing it as a dialogue, this part of the work stands out for the sheer boldness of its themes. The arguments brought forward by Ivan against the cruelty of god and the worthlessness of religious sentiments are not only fascinating in themselves, but are also wonderfully meaningful inside the work. Through them Dostoyevsky managed to convey the ideology not only of Ivan, the dominant speaker, but of Alyosha as well. Through the contrast between Alyosha’s faith and Ivan’s scepticism we get to experience the kindness of Alyosha to the fullest extent, even though he is rendered somewhat abashed and reluctantly concurrent by his articulate brother. Furthermore, this gloomy ideology brought before us is the cause behind Smerdyakov’s murder of Fyodor Karamazov, thus being an integral part of the plot. Through the gentle responses of Alyosha and the imperative, pathetic tone of Ivan we learn about the nature of each character and of the relation between them, which is evolving rapidly during the dialogue itself, and that makes this dialogue truly unique and fascinating to the observant reader.
But could this exchange be adequately called a dialogue? Some might say Ivan is purposely having a monologue with Alyosha in order to explain his beliefs and himself to his brother. However, in my opinion, Alyosha could, and should have, been an equal participant. His secondary role is not a result of Ivan’s dominance, but of his own bashfulness. That being said, it is still more of a monologue sewn into the design of a dialogue, spoken in the presence of a responsive yet lackluster and overshadowed spectator. It lacks the parry and thrust between the two characters which forms the basis of a good dialogue.
Here we have one model of unsuccessful dialogues – the, de facto, monologue. Whether it is a single monologue spoken in the presence of an interlocutor, or two separate monologues combined in a conspicuously scripted conversation, each projecting the separate thoughts of the characters as if they were exchanging letters, in both cases the lack of artfulness and ingenuity is all but obscure. This style’s critical disadvantage lies in its unnaturalness. Clearly, nobody speaks thus. The long, drawn-out sentences, the impossibly fluent and unceasing procession of complex ideas, and the lack of hesitation or interruption, create an evident artificiality. Furthermore, it draws upon the attention of the reader and often tires him, resulting in the loss of interest in less resilient readers.
Nevertheless, the monologue-style has its values. It allows the author to demonstrate the personality of his characters, to express his ideas, to wield a more daring, refined language, and to add analogies and similes to the text. Enrichment is its virtue.
Although the dialogue between Alyosha and Ivan is more reminiscent of a monologue, it still consists of some of the key components of a good dialogue. Namely: It manages to convey the personality and characteristics of both participants, it contributes to the development of the plot and is of significance within it, and it is rich in style and grand in manner, perhaps the ultimate advantage of the monologue-style. This particular dialogue excels in yet other virtues which are uncharacteristic of its style: despite its lengthiness, it remains fluent and convincing, especially Alyosha’s subtle responses and displayed emotions, which are usually either too grand or too opaque in Russian dialogues. By the way, I think this goes for all classical Russian authors. Although Dostoyevsky is in my opinion the most admirable amongst them, even he couldn’t produce a satisfyingly natural conversation, let alone Tolstoy, Turgenev, Gogol or Chekhov. If you wish to find examples of bad dialogues, look no further than Chekhov’s The Seagull. For me, the works of Russian authors are substantial in spite of their dialogues, and not on account of them.
For further examples of monologue-ish dialogues, I propose Vautrin’s attempt of corrupting Eugène de Rastignac in Père Goriot, William of Baskerville’s confrontation with the villainous Jorge in The Name of the Rose, Tarrou’s first friendly and sincere dialogue with Rieux in The Plague, and finally the separation of Torvald and Nora in A Doll’s House.
Through the ‘monologue’ style of dialogue, some of our sought qualities have been extracted, but what other ingredients are we lacking? While reading about dialogues in literature-oriented websites I received the impression that the popular opinion is that for a dialogue to be good it must contain mainly punch and style. The given examples of famous dialogues were mostly of short-sentenced, fast paced witticisms or of clever retorts which could hardly be justified as dialogues at all. With that in mind, let’s move on to the second example.
The Dialogue of George and Lennie (Of Mice and Men)
The choice of this dialogue puts me, I believe, at a great disadvantage in my attempt to persuade you, sentimental and emotional as you are, that it is still a long way from ‘greatness’. For this dialogue is the literary embodiment of emotionality and empathy, and not only are we emotional and irrational creatures, but this is the very age in which emotions are glorified. ‘I feel thus, therefore it is thus’ is the philosophy of the modern mind. Perhaps Descartes would have said ‘I feel, therefore I am’ had he been born in the 21st century.
This dialogue is so momentous within the work because it manages to epitomize and manifest the atmosphere and the tragedy of the story, while fittingly concluding it. It beautifully displays the subtleties of the relationship between the two central characters, their tragically thwarted plans and desires, and the love they share for each other. Meanwhile, the reader is put under the same pressure as George by the imminent advance of the men from the ranch who intend to execute his friend. The resemblance between George’s situation and Candy’s, earlier in the story, is unmistakable. The reader discovers with George that Candy’s failure to be the one to put down his old dog had foreshadowed George’s inevitable fate, and both realize that George must muster all his compassion, love and friendship to be the one to lay the fatal blow.
I cherish this dialogue dearly, and it genuinely moves me to the brink of tears whenever I read it. To say that the book would be incomplete without it would be an understatement. This dialogue is the book itself. In addition to its obvious significance, no other dialogue that I know of manages to evoke so much empathy as it does, nor express the personalities and feelings of its characters as faithfully. Furthermore, its authenticity, derived from its short sentences, makes it all the more moving.
And so our second model of dialogues is revealed – the realistic dialogue. Arguably, this is the opposite extreme of the monologue-style. Its characteristics are short sentences, unsophisticated language, sometimes punniness, and general simplicity. One needn’t strain one’s imagination to envisage such conversations taking place in reality. As a matter of fact, one needn’t strain one’s imagination at all. Simplicity is the key objective, and through it: entertainment, wit, authenticity, and fluency. Although the realistic style can generate a more natural and real feeling to a dialogue, and wit certainly adds quite a lot to the zest that makes literature so appealing, such a writing style usually fails to hold the meaningfulness and significance of an impactful dialogue. I may sound a bit contradictive, but I don’t believe that a literary dialogue can be too realistic in the length of its sentences, nor emulate accurately the haphazard, unscripted way in which real conversations unfold. A dialogue ought to be almost realistic, but it must be elevated beyond realism in order to achieve grandeur, and yet without turning into a monologue. As to wit, it necessarily deprives the dialogue of its gravity, for which it is far from an ample compensation.
I shan’t claim that the realistic style lacks the ability to elicit the emotions, histories, and personalities of characters, and let alone evoke emotional feedback within the readers (as proved by the dialogue discussed above). Perhaps it even outdoes the monologue-style, presumably due to readers’ ability to feel greater empathy for a figure more similar to themselves in its behavior and speech. As Hemingway once retorted: ‘Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?’. I shall only claim that in comparison with the monologue-style, it is inferior in richness and sophistication.
Which then, are the key components derived from the realistic style? Fluency and authenticity have been attributed to the Karamazov’s dialogue, but they quintessentially belong to the realistic style. Through authenticity one also achieves the ability to evoke empathy. Other traits include entertainment and wit (although one must balance between wit and grandeur with great care). Simplicity itself I do not consider a virtue, but the trophy of mediocrity. Great authors may achieve fluency, wit, and entertainment in their dialogues in an intricate manner.
Let’s return to the dialogue between George and Lennie. What stands between it and what I consider as ‘greatness’? It is substantial within the work, it conveys the personalities and history of the characters, it evokes emotions within the readers, and it is fluent and authentic. Truly, it possesses everything the realistic style has to offer (except for wit, for which solemnity has been traded). And yet, what can one draw from this dialogue? Which ideas have been displayed through it? Has it offered us any sophistication, any problem to ruminate? Worse still, it lacks elevation. Nothing signifies it from reality, and so it contributes nothing to the status of literature as something greater than reality or media. In other words, it is devoid of both meaning and richness, and therefore will never ascend to be aere perennius. And you, who would attempt to defend this dialogue or this style, would you trade all of that for nothing but – emotions?
I think that it’s safe to say that in the shift of style from the 18th and 19th century to the 20th, and especially during the 21st century, most authors abandoned monologues and moved towards realism, carelessly overshooting the desired mean in the process. So much solemnity, depth, artfulness and, yes, even nobleness of mind, were lost due to a shift of literary taste. Perhaps that is why modern literature has lost its charm for me. Perhaps that is why great new ideas and thinkers find it harder to permeate into the minds of contemporary readers. In the age of instant gratification, who could expect the average reader to give up entertainment for thought, to pay attention? However, those are subjects for different posts.
For further examples of realistic dialogues, I propose the meeting of Esmé and the narrator in For Esmé – with love and squalor, the dialogue during Catherine’s delivery in A Farewell to Arms, the parting of Eliza from Higgins in Pygmalion, and the strife between Gatsby and Tom Buchanan in The Great Gatsby.
Catharsis
Having dealt with the extremes, we must now define the scale on which to place them. That scale can be no other than the simple length of the sentences within the dialogue. Consequently, the solution to our problem of quality is, of course, the Golden Mean of sentence-length in dialogues. Surely, you aptly say, such a simple solution cannot encompass the intricacy and subtleness of the problem. To which I reply: length is but the frame of the dialogue, the skeleton, or, more appropriately, the scaffolding with which the artist may build his edifice. Let his building-blocks be the very components which we have already numerated, and with proper taste, he may yet create dialogues of a rarity which is heavily felt in the modern literary scene.
In Summary
- The dialogue must be significant within the plot. This is still the most basic condition, without which the dialogue cannot hold the impact which is desired in greatness. I think that advancing the plot goes, undeniably, within this factor.
- The length of the sentences must be slightly beyond that of real conversations, but far from tedious. The Golden Mean between a monologue and an everyday conversation. Admittedly, the line that separates mundanity from unworldliness is terribly thin, but it is in walking that line that an author’s art is manifested and measured. Furthermore, the sentences must be of a length which leaves room for sophistication without leaving the bounds of authenticity, and which allows the interlocutors to load their arguments with sufficient context.
- The personalities, emotions and history of the characters, as well as the relation between them, ought to be conveyed to the reader, and the author must attempt to evoke empathy within the reader. The characters’ development through the dialogue is even more desirable.
- The dialogue should be rich, thematic, sophisticated, daring, and preferably solemn.
- The dialogue must be fluent, natural and authentic.
- If possible, the dialogue could be entertaining and witty.
A Great Dialogue
I couldn’t possibly expect you tolerate my ranting and criticizing throughout this whole post without providing a contestant of my own, without hazarding my theories by enabling you to criticize me in turn. Therefore, a last example is required.
For me, an instance of a great dialogue is the one which takes place between Dorian and Basil in The Picture of Dorian Gray. What a lurid, vivid, artfully disgusting scene it is. The final deterioration of Dorian, the ultimate result of a corruption of a soul – to kill one’s own guardian angel! Let’s analyze it:
- It is unquestionably substantial to the plot.
- It not only conveys the history of Dorian, but it signifies the result of having such a history, while presenting Dorian’s rotten personality, all the more hateful by the juxtaposition of it with Basil’s previous admiration for it. One cannot help but be captivated by it, although the emotions it evokes are more of antipathy than of empathy.
- It is original, daring, solemn, and more importantly: rich and sophisticated. Although advocated religious lessons tend to repel me, one cannot deny the exquisite way in which it is done in this case.
- Despite its macabre and solemn air, it manages to remain fluent and authentic.
- As to the length of the sentences, they are sometimes short and rapid, sometimes long and meaningful, but they contain enough of both interlocutors for it to feel like a dialogue while maintaining enough of the grandeur which so essentially provides the elevation which is required in order to truly achieve greatness.
A Word on Plays
Having illustrated the complexity of producing a dialogue in literature, what could be said of a work consisting almost solely of conversations? It is evidently all the more challenging to create a remarkable play. The most important thing in a play is fluency, for the plot could not develop but through the dialogues, and without fluency the whole play, intricate and refined as it may be, will become rigid and taut. It appears that one must sacrifice a bit of grandeur for authenticity in this case, and attempt to mix that enrichening ingredient within the background. For an example of that, I propose the works of Arthur Miller.