Chekhov's Gun

A while agoⁱ I discussed some of the “rules” of writing. One I didn't mention then – one that has subsequently bothered me for a variety of reasons – is “Chekhov's Gun.” As he put it, “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." ⁱⁱ An earlier statementⁱⁱⁱ of this principle reads, "If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired. Otherwise don't put it there."

Although the goal of this principle is apparently to tighten up the text, to avoid red herrings, that hardly seems to be adequate justification. Indeed, I can't imagine a Russian who would shun herring. Nor would generations of them be likely to have condemned Reds.^iv,v I'm not Russian, but I find this rule to be misplaced.

Why hang a gun on the wall and tell the reader about it if not as a plot device? Perhaps the goal would be to tell us a little about the wall, or the person who hung it. Or about the gun itself. Is the weapon a part of a larger display? Is it intended to depict the history or nature of the wall, room, or dwelling where it is found? If the action takes place in the United States, does the gun tell us anything of the owner's view of the Constitution – specifically the Second Amendment? Is he simply a collector? Would a gun of great value – perhaps an historical relic – testify to the owner's wealth?

Put otherwise, there may be other reasons in the mind of the author than mayhem to hang the gun on the wall. Further spinning of the yarn may clarify that point. Or it may not. The significance of the description may be left to the reader. His interpretation is an important part of the story.

Interpretation has always played a major role in the understanding^vi of a passage – sometimes rivaling or even overriding its apparent meaning. Such interpretations may provide help in the understanding of what was written, but since they represent the view of the interpreter, it is likely that they will contain his biases. Thus there may be many, contrary, interpretations of the same work. The explications and annotations offered my clarify the original author's intent, or they may be totally off base and contradict him. Reading an interpretation may tell us more about the interpretor than about the text.

One of the joys of reading is that you're free to create whatever images in your mind that the words before you suggest. Your image may be very different from that of the author, because you'll be bringing to the encounter a background and experiences different from his. That doesn't mean that he's right and you're wrong, only that your views of what was written vary. Not a big surprise. Just as two witnesses may see a crime differently, two readers of a work may have contrasting views of what the author intended. In fact, the author may not be completely aware of what he has written, and the interpreter may understand it better than the one who wrote it. We're not always conscious of all that we write or say, even if it seems correct at the time.^vii

Recognizing that there may be very different constructions put on a single body of text,^viii having a variety of interpretations available to you, may enhance your understanding of what you've read can widen your understanding. Biblical interpretation, the explication of literary works like Shakespeare, and the understanding of history are only three of the areas in which the interpretation of texts plays a major part. Perhaps a particular construction is unsatisfying, or even wrong, it will give the reader a perspective he might not have had otherwise, and it can contribute to his own thinking about the subject in question. Utility and function, however important, aren't the sole criteria which govern meaning.

Chekhov's error^ix was that he believed that the author's perspective was the only one, and that all the pieces had to fit together neatly. Life isn't that way, however useful such a view is for a short-story author.

I think Chekhov was too quick on the trigger with this one.

Next episode: “Soothing The Savage Beast” – Beast, breast. What's the difference?

i     Writer's Bl... June 19, 2011

ii    Memoirs, S. Shchukin, 1911. Cited in Wikipedia.

iii    1904. Another iteration, according to Wikipedia, was stated in 1889. Use of this principle can be found in Uncle Vanya.

iv    They certainly wouldn't live to tell about it.

v     All right. I admit it. Chekhov lived before Russia became a communist state.

vi    And in the clouding or confusion of its meaning.

vii    Not only are there unconscious areas of uncertainty, there are conscious ones as well. For example, there are occasions when the story doesn't even have an ending and the reader is free to imagine what happened next.

viii  Reading comprehension tests make this very obvious, although they don't necessarily clarify meanings for you.

ix    Or at least what I consider an error.