A question: who said, “I have always thought of the novel as a kind of symphony“?
I’ll provide the answer at the end of this post. Meanwhile, I think the argument can be made that desire is to narrative what sound is to music. It is the raw material, the matter sculpted into form.
By starting with a question—Who said, “I have always thought of the novel as a kind of symphony”?—I’m attempting to make my point. By establishing a small thread of desire—for closure, for an answer, for an expectation to be met—I’m trying to sculpt it into an engaging and informative post.
Where does desire come from? My answer is that it comes from caring, and caring comes from expectation.
Consider that both the foodie anticipating an extravagant meal and the child dreading a flu shot are in a dramatic relationship with desire and expectation. The foodie’s desire pulls toward the meal; the child’s desire pulls away from it.
The writer’s job is to harness that pull. But how? How does the writer harness desire?
1. Know Your “I Want Song“
The first step is knowing what lyricist Howard Ashman called the “I Want” Song.” Disney is a master of this song. In The Little Mermaid, Ariel wants to be be a part of the human world. In The Lion King, Simba just can’t wait to be king.
In The Bourne Identity, Jason Bourne wants to know who he is. In Titanic, Rose wants to escape with Jack. In The Matrix, Neo wants to know the truth of his existence, no matter the cost.
2. Put Desire in Danger
When desire is in danger, narrative is in motion. Ariel’s desire is to be human; this is put in danger is put in danger by Ursula’s plan to turn her into a POS—a poor unfortunate soul. Rose wants to escape with Jack, but the Titanic is sinking. Jason Bourne wants to know who he is, but the government is trying to kill him.
So Desire + danger = that with which the sculpts a story.
Masculine vs Feminine Narrative Structures
We often think of desire as “masculine”—as active pursuit. Even when the protagonist is female, she is frequently the embodiment of the masculine principle—the bee and not the flower. She is the hero going into the unknown to retrieve the elixir. Think Wonder Woman. Or Elle Woods in Legally Blond.
But some of the most powerful stories follow what we might call a Feminine Narrative Structure, where, instead embodying desire that pursues; a character embodies desire that attracts.
And what is more powerful—the desire to pursue or the desire to attract?
Some examples—
- In Lost in Translation, Charlotte desires intimacy. But she isn’t pursuing a goal. Rather, her yearning attracts the connections that drive the story.
- What is Will’s ‘I Want Song’ in Good Will Hunting? It is for nothing to change. Like Charlotte, he is a flower and the drama comes from the people he attracts into his life and that put his static world in danger.
The Takeaway
If your story feels stagnant, it might be helpful to answer the following questions:
- What is my character’s “I Want Song”?
- What is putting my character’s desire in immediate, existential danger?
- Am I working with a masculine or feminine narrative structure?
With clarity on these issues, you can then—as good Will Hunting might say—let the sculpting begin.
And the answer to our opening question? The writer who viewed saw the novel as a symphony was Milan Kundera, author of The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
**This post is adapted from a video I made some time ago.