CHARACTER HINTS

CHARACTER HINTS

AFTER the battle of El Caney a newspaper writer came upon a soldier pillowing upon his knee the head of a dead comrade. "Know him?" the reporter asked, as the soldier rose, having gently placed the body on the ground. "My brother," came the low reply.

A sculptor, reading the story, found his heart so moved that under his hand the incident shaped itself in clay. At the Pan American Exposition the group was shown,—the dead with covered face, the living erect and noble, looking toward something far, very far away.1 The lines of his face showed that what he saw was beyond the range of human ken, was a mother ’ s proud heart in a distant New England home, a home now bereaved, a heart now broken. The holiday smile faded from many a visitor, as he stopped before this group and then walked slowly on. Yet its message was all suggested; nothing was declared.

In the Art Galleries of the Carnegie Institute is a picture by Charles Stanley Reinhart called "Awaiting the Ab¬sent." 2 A number of women stand looking out over the sea. No name is necessary to tell us why they wait in spite of weariness. Attitude and expression speak of anxiety and sorrow, and our hearts grow heavy as we see them with hope all but dead, gazing without rest out over the devouring deep.

In the ’ same Galleries is a picture by Winslow Homer called "The Wreck." 1 A bit of coast, a glimpse of foam- capped billows, a great sand dune along which a life-saving crew are dragging their boat; that is all. But every atti¬tude suggests a struggle that can be due only to human peril. Lives will go out unless that boat is forced through the yielding sand and into the storm-riven sea beyond. The name of the picture is aptly chosen, but it is unneces¬sary. To look at the painting is to feel the wind-driven mist on the cheeks; is to admire the courage and devotion that prompt these men so freely to risk life itself for others; is to be thrilled with their willingness to serve; is to be in¬spired to less selfish and nobler living. But we are made to share the feelings and the experiences of these women and of these men wholly by means of suggestions; nothing is declared.

In music, too, suggestion is all important. In a flaring, stuffy music room in midwinter a skilled pianist, with Mendelssohn ’ s "Spring Song," can bring back the warm south wind, the willows, the singing birds, the rippling brooks, the anemones and the violets, the bursting buds and the apple blossoms.

These illustrations suggest that '''the aim of art is to 'con¬vey 'feeling from one soul to another. ''' 2 To bring about this transfer of feeling the artist constructs something concrete which so embodies his emotion that it suggests to others the same or a kindred feeling. The something constructed may belong to any one of the realms of fine art; it may be a cathedral, an oratorio, a sculptured group, a picture, or a poem. In each, however, the aim is to convey feeling from one soul to another. Every feeling is peculiarly adapted to treatment by one of the fine arts, although it may be treated by one or by all of the others. For example, the feeling kindled by a landscape is treated most successfully in a painting, although Ruskin showed the world that it may be conveyed almost as well by a word picture. So in his poem "The Man with the Hoe," written upon looking at Millet ’ s painting of the same name, Mr. Markham has striven to con¬vey with words the feeling that the painter endeavored to put upon his canvas.

It is not possible to arouse a feeling in one soul by stating baldly that another soul is under the spell of that feeling. I may say that I am very sad, but my statement will not lay a feather ’ s weight of sadness upon your heart. If I am an artist, however, I can put that feeling into a poem, a statue, a piece of music, or a painting, and I can make it so powerful that tears may spring to your eyes. But I must accomplish this by suggestion, not by declaration.

A careful study of a masterpiece of any kind will show that the artist always strives to suggest rather than to declare. His aim is to furnish a few guiding details, a few hints, from which his feeling, his message, is to be read.

'''To convey feeling an author uses details and sugges¬tive words. '''Details that reveal character are typical acts selected from a person ’ s daily life; details that describe are features that make a face, a room, a landscape different from every other face, room, or landscape. Suggestive words not only bring to the reader their dictionary meaning, but also suggest to him imaginary pictures and moving experi¬ences.

To be concrete, let us see how a person makes another share his feeling about a third.

In order to make known the character of a person it is an almost universal custom to tell of some typical act of his rather than to characterize him by an adjective. The act, of course, must be one that the person performed because he really wished to perform it, one that came directly from his heart.

To say that a man is miserly and heartless is by no means so effective as to say that he forced a widow with a very sick child to move in midwinter because he could rent the rooms they were occupying for a half-dollar a month more than the widow was paying. The adjectives miserly and heartless are ineffective, but from the incident one immediately feels by intuition not only all that the adjectives tell, but very much more; one knows the man so well that one can predict with no little accuracy what he will do under many circum¬stances and conditions. In other words, the feeling that the speaker has toward the man is transferred to the hearer.

In the drama the same method of characterization is used. When Joseph Jefferson first walked on the stage as Rip Van Winkle, he showed by the rags and tatters he wore that Rip was a ne ’ er-do-well: but the crowing child on one shoulder, the laughing youngster held by the hand, and the crowd of children clinging to the skirts of his coat and at his heels, all shouting and screaming, made known far better than any words the good nature and sunny heart of the vagabond.

Some incidents of history will further illustrate the prin¬ciple:

Sir Philip Sidney Fatally wounded on the battle¬field of Zutphen, "Being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which was presently brought him; but as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had eaten his last at the same feast, ghastly casting up his eyes at the bottle, which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his head before he drank, and de¬livered it to the poor man, with these words, Thy necessity is yet greater than mine."

This situation tells how he lived, how he ever thought of others before himself, how he always was the flower of courtesy and the pearl of chivalry, how he not only died a hero, but how he lived a hero as well. The incident sets our imagination, our feelings, to work, and from it we become intimately acquainted with the man. The incident makes known vastly more than it says.

Sir Walter Scott, author, is known to many; but how about Walter Scott, man? Past the prime of life in 1826, when his publishing house failed, he found himself in financial ruin. Although in no way legally bound to do so, he set his pen to work to write off a debt of almost six hundred thousand dollars. Volume after volume of fiction and biography sprang from his brain. Recreation, health, self, were all forgotten by the man Scott, and when death stepped in seven years later and stayed his hand all but a few paltry thousand of his awful burden had been cast off. This in¬cident makes known infinitely more about the man than it says about him; it makes known a greater hero than is portrayed in any of the Waverly novels; it gives an insight into his character such as no hundred pages of abstract statement could give.

Another well known name in literature is that of Alexan¬der Pope. Was he a man such as Walter Scott? Let an incident tell:

Anxious that his correspondence be given to the world while he yet lived, but not quite ready so to violate custom as to publish it himself, he hired a venal go-between to pretend to a base publisher that he had stolen the poet ’ s letters and that he was willing to sell them. The publisher at first was shy, but, finally persuaded of the genuineness of the letters, he purchased and published them. Pope of course stormed, declared he would have justice, entered suit against the publisher,—and withdrew it at the right moment. Then he declared that, although it was very repugnant to him, he felt it due to his friends and to himself that an authentic volume of his correspondence be pub¬lished, and he brought out an authorized edition.

How much more is made known than is told! How the incident clears up the causes of Pope ’ s hundred quarrels, the origin of his jealousies, the fountain of his satires!

Twenty years ago a boy was playing with his companions on a city common. Seeing a calf grazing near, he coaxed it to him, and by his stroking and petting he completely won its confidence. When the helpless creature, thinking it had found a friend, was looking up into his face in hope of further caresses, he spat tobacco juice into its eye, and laughed uproariously when the poor thing ran madly about the field.

This story of his boyhood is told to-day to characterize the man. Nor is it surprising to learn that one day this man walked into a schoolroom and without a word slapped in the face the woman who had rightfully punished his son.

These two incidents make known as much concerning this man as some volumes of biography tell about their subjects. To declare that as a boy he was heartless and cruel, and that as a man he was without respect for women, will say as much as the incidents say, but will not make known a thousandth part of what they make known.

Each of these various acts is manifestly the result of a person ’ s wish, clearly comes from the heart, and therefore each of them reveals character.

Such incidents as the above, and any act that is of sufficient suggestive power to kindle the imagination and to set it to work to fathom the character of a person, will in this book be called Hints of Character or Character Hints, the name being given because from the " hint " much of the character may be intuitively discerned.

Exercises.

Ex. 1. Tell a friend an incident that reveiled the character of someone you met.

Write or draw accounts of character reveiling situations. Be sure to select incidents that clearly result from the doer ’ s wish.

Use people you have met, famous people, imaginary people, pets, and characters from movies or tv.

Write emails to friends describing character reveiling situations.

Ex. 2. Carefully study the following paragraphs, and write or tell succinctly all that they make known but do not say:

ONE Christmas morning I met on the street a laboring man of my acquaintance. He had his arm around a most disreputable- looking drunk, who every few steps stumbled and pitched headlong. My gray-haired friend, however, each time kept him from falling, balanced him, and helped him along. A few days later I asked him who the fellow was. "I have no idea," he replied. "I found him lying in the snow up by the railroad. At first he would n ’ t tell me where he lived, but after several hours I got him home."

A LAD  twelve years old went from Pennsylvania to Western Nebraska in a freight car, having as his only companion a seven¬year-old brother. His duty was to care for an old horse, two cows, and several pigs that his father was moving to the new western home. The train was delayed, and his supply of water gave out, but he successfully got his barrels refilled at some local stop. At the end of the railway journey he inquired the way and drove his cattle forty miles across the trackless prairie to the new ranch.

ONE  hot summer night an old lady remembered that she had left a saucer of peas on the cellar shelf. Fearing that they would spoil, she went from her bed to the cellar and ate them. Three hours later her husband drove six miles for a physician.

AT  a Florida resort one January morning two young men were taking a walk. Every movement of one told of perfect physical powers. The other, leaning upon his companion ’ s arm, was wrapped in a heavy shawl. Coming to a bench the former said, "Here ’ s a seat, Billy; let ’ s sit down and warm our legs in the sunshine"

THE  night had blown up snowy and cold. "John," came from one side of the bed, "please go down and let kitty in. It ’ s so cold!"

"Hey?" came the sleepy response.

"Do let kitty in!" continued the voice pleadingly.

"Let who in?" was the querulous reply.

"The cat; it ’ s so cold, and I do believe it ’ s snowing." "Well, let it snow," and he turned over and straightway resumed snoring.

The next minute a slender white-robed figure slipped out of bed, and soon a grateful cat lay purring on the still warm hearth.

Ex. Bring in an imaginary hint that will be in harmony with the character of any one of the persons portrayed.

Combine several hints in such manner as to make a character sketch.for more on the use of character hints see:

More examples of character hints

A combination of character description, character hint, then a few questions. :

Jonathan