I'm with you absolutely on not needing conflict on every page. I would approach the explanation differently, though, and I'm not sure if I would be saying something different from you or if I would just be saying it differently. But here goes.
You don't need conflict on every page. You need tension on every page. Conflict occurs when the thing in tension snaps, and the outcome resolves the tension, which ends the story, or at least ends that arc of the story. When writers fill their books with conflict, it is because they are not good enough to sustain tension.
And I agree with you about desire, though I am more inclined to call it love. But to me, the key to story is not so much conflicting desires or loves, but incompatible desires or loves. But the incompatibility of the two loves only arises when faced with a particular situation. The crisis of the story is reached when the incompatibility of the two loves cannot be sustained, and one must be sacrificed. This is why, in the hero's journey, there are two refusals (though they are often omitted from accounts of the model). They are the refusal of the call at the beginning and the refusal of return at the end. These refusals frame the hero's moral reluctance to go on the journey.
Without that moral reluctance, without the incompatible desires, the plot is a merely technical one. The hero has a problem to solve, and he solves it. The only tension comes from the practical difficulties he will face, though we know very well that he will overcome them all. But with the incompatible loves or desires, the hero has a moral problem as well as a practical problem, and the thing about the moral problem is that we know that no matter which way it is solved, it will involve a significant loss as one desire, one love, must be sacrificed. This creates sustainable moral tension.
Thus in LOTR the task is not simply to carry a magic ring through Middle Earth and drop it in a volcano. That would be a merely practical challenge. What gives it tension is that Frodo desires both to keep the ring and to destroy it. He must choose between these two things and whichever he chooses will come at enormous moral cost.
I mostly agree with you, although even tension can be set aside for a significant chunk of time for the purposes of catharsis, as long as that tension was sustained and strong enough to warrant it (see the example of the end of Return of the King).
I’ve always agreed that moral tension is more interesting than mere questions of physics and practical knowledge, but I never realized it was because there is no “right” answer, or at least no victory without some sacrifice. That is utterly brilliant.
How would you say conflicting desires are different than incompatible desires?
Further thought: The Kobayashi Maru is what we might think of as a watershed in modern fiction, or at least an emblem of that watershed, the moment when it became possible to propose that with sufficient power or competence, you could avoid the need for sacrifice. Superman turning back time so that he can both save Lois and defeat the baddy is another example. Competence thus comes to reign supreme over morality because, with sufficient ingenuity, all moral conflicts can be resolved without cost, and if they can be resolved without cost, they are not moral conflicts at all. Intelligence outmodes morality. The trouble is, this does not make for great stories.
Well, catharsis is the resolution of tension, so I don't know that I would say that tension is set aside for catharsis. Catharsis is the desired resolution of the tension that has sustained the story, so they are really all part of the same thing. It is the desire for catharsis, for resolution, that keeps the reader hooked, but if the tension drops, the desire for catharsis withers, and the story fails.
I suppose the difference I had in mind between conflicting and incompatible desires is that conflicting desires are conflicting now and permanently. Incompatible desires are ones that might come into conflict in a particular circumstance but are not in conflict all the time. I don't think those are the best terms for these two things, so I need to ponder that further.
But I think there is an interesting story difference between these two things. In the first we open with the conflict. In the second, we open in a situation where the two desires are not in conflict, but then something happens that threatens to put them into conflict. The latter has more dramatic potential, I think because the conflict is new to the protagonist, and they will act to avoid the situation in which they are forced to face the conflict.
That makes sense. I’ve often found that you don’t need direct failure very often, because even the threat of failure will build tension. I suppose that’s just another way of saying you need stakes.
I'm with you absolutely on not needing conflict on every page. I would approach the explanation differently, though, and I'm not sure if I would be saying something different from you or if I would just be saying it differently. But here goes.
You don't need conflict on every page. You need tension on every page. Conflict occurs when the thing in tension snaps, and the outcome resolves the tension, which ends the story, or at least ends that arc of the story. When writers fill their books with conflict, it is because they are not good enough to sustain tension.
And I agree with you about desire, though I am more inclined to call it love. But to me, the key to story is not so much conflicting desires or loves, but incompatible desires or loves. But the incompatibility of the two loves only arises when faced with a particular situation. The crisis of the story is reached when the incompatibility of the two loves cannot be sustained, and one must be sacrificed. This is why, in the hero's journey, there are two refusals (though they are often omitted from accounts of the model). They are the refusal of the call at the beginning and the refusal of return at the end. These refusals frame the hero's moral reluctance to go on the journey.
Without that moral reluctance, without the incompatible desires, the plot is a merely technical one. The hero has a problem to solve, and he solves it. The only tension comes from the practical difficulties he will face, though we know very well that he will overcome them all. But with the incompatible loves or desires, the hero has a moral problem as well as a practical problem, and the thing about the moral problem is that we know that no matter which way it is solved, it will involve a significant loss as one desire, one love, must be sacrificed. This creates sustainable moral tension.
Thus in LOTR the task is not simply to carry a magic ring through Middle Earth and drop it in a volcano. That would be a merely practical challenge. What gives it tension is that Frodo desires both to keep the ring and to destroy it. He must choose between these two things and whichever he chooses will come at enormous moral cost.
I mostly agree with you, although even tension can be set aside for a significant chunk of time for the purposes of catharsis, as long as that tension was sustained and strong enough to warrant it (see the example of the end of Return of the King).
I’ve always agreed that moral tension is more interesting than mere questions of physics and practical knowledge, but I never realized it was because there is no “right” answer, or at least no victory without some sacrifice. That is utterly brilliant.
How would you say conflicting desires are different than incompatible desires?
Further thought: The Kobayashi Maru is what we might think of as a watershed in modern fiction, or at least an emblem of that watershed, the moment when it became possible to propose that with sufficient power or competence, you could avoid the need for sacrifice. Superman turning back time so that he can both save Lois and defeat the baddy is another example. Competence thus comes to reign supreme over morality because, with sufficient ingenuity, all moral conflicts can be resolved without cost, and if they can be resolved without cost, they are not moral conflicts at all. Intelligence outmodes morality. The trouble is, this does not make for great stories.
Well, catharsis is the resolution of tension, so I don't know that I would say that tension is set aside for catharsis. Catharsis is the desired resolution of the tension that has sustained the story, so they are really all part of the same thing. It is the desire for catharsis, for resolution, that keeps the reader hooked, but if the tension drops, the desire for catharsis withers, and the story fails.
I suppose the difference I had in mind between conflicting and incompatible desires is that conflicting desires are conflicting now and permanently. Incompatible desires are ones that might come into conflict in a particular circumstance but are not in conflict all the time. I don't think those are the best terms for these two things, so I need to ponder that further.
But I think there is an interesting story difference between these two things. In the first we open with the conflict. In the second, we open in a situation where the two desires are not in conflict, but then something happens that threatens to put them into conflict. The latter has more dramatic potential, I think because the conflict is new to the protagonist, and they will act to avoid the situation in which they are forced to face the conflict.
That makes sense. I’ve often found that you don’t need direct failure very often, because even the threat of failure will build tension. I suppose that’s just another way of saying you need stakes.
Yes. It's not what happens. It is what you fear will happen. Tension is anticipation.