ed
in the form of a thing acted, where narrative ceases and a direct
light falls upon his people and their doings. It must be so, for this
is the sharpest effect within his range; and the story must naturally
have the benefit of it, wherever the emphasis is to fall most
strongly. To the scene, therefore, all other effects will appear to be
subordinated in general; and the placing of the scenes of the story
will be the prime concern. But precisely because it has this high
value it will need to be used prudently. If it is wasted it loses
force, and if it is weakened the climax--of the story, of a particular
turn in the story--has no better resource to turn to instead. And so
it is essential to recognize its limitations and to note the purposes
which it does _not_ well serve; since it is by using it for these that
it is depreciated.
In the scene, it is clear, there can be no foreshortening of time or
space; I mean that as it appears to the eye of the reader, it displays
the whole of the time and space it occupies. It cannot cover more of
either than it actually renders. And therefore it is, for its length,
expensive in the matter of time and space; an oblique narrative will
give the effect of further distances and longer periods with much
greater economy. A few phrases, casting backwards over an incident,
will yield the sense of its mere dimensions, where the dramatized
scene might cover many pages. Its salience is another matter; but it
has to be remembered that though the scene acts vividly, it acts
slowly, in relation to its length. I am supposing that it stands alone
and unsupported, and must accordingly make its effect from the
beginning, must prepare as well as achieve; and evidently in that case
a burden is thrown upon it for which it is not specially equipped. At
any moment there may be reasons for forcing it to bear the
burden--other considerations may preponderate; but nevertheless a
scene which is not in some way prepared in advance is a scene which in
point of fact is wasting a portion of its strength. It is
accomplishing expensively what might have been accomplished for less.
That is the disability of the dramatic scene; and I imagine the
novelist taking thought to ensure that he shall press upon it as
little as possible. As far as may be he will use the scene for the
purpose which it fulfils supremely--to clinch a matter already
pending, to demonstrate a result, to crown an effect half-made by
other mean
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