No matter where you go in the literary and publishing worlds, if you ask for the most important rule in fiction writing, you’ll almost invariably hear the ubiquitous dictum: “Show, Don’t Tell!”
Some people even argue that if you tell rather than show too much in your fiction, you’re not really writing fiction! But is this true? Is “show, don’t tell” even always good advice?
Here is my argument: “show, don’t tell” is a style preference, not a necessity. And it depends on how well, and when, you tell, and how well, and when, you show.
Perhaps part of the reason for my position is my appreciation for 19th-century English literature. In the third-person omniscient narration so popular in this period, the narrator (usually the author) is all-knowing and all-seeing, so she or he can simply tell you all the essential information about a character’s thoughts and motivations, important parts of backstory or context, and so on. Even in 19th-century novels that do not have that kind of narration (for example, Villette and Jane Eyre, with their first-person point of view), there are many gorgeous passages with details that are told rather than shown.
I think many of today’s fiction writers have forgotten how useful telling can be when you want to avoid something taking up disproportionate focus or space on the page. Even more significantly, there are times when telling rather than showing is the most insightful and engaging way of conveying a character’s inner thoughts. There may be scenarios in which it wouldn’t be realistic to provide a dramatization that shows a character’s feelings. Think about real life. Do you always show your feelings and express your most significant thoughts? Are other people’s thoughts and feelings always explicitly demonstrated? I think the answer is a resounding no.
If Jane Austen were a writer today, she would likely meet rejection everywhere. I can just imagine the endless reviews complaining about her telling rather than showing. Other fiction writers would dismiss her, and literary agents and publishers would likely declare her work unpublishable, arguing that no one would want to read it.
Perhaps you’re thinking, Jane Austen’s style appealed to readers in the early 19th century, but it’s just not a good fit for today’s literary marketplace. But there is one enormous problem with that argument. Even today, Jane Austen remains one of the most popular and frequently read authors in the world. If readers invariably prefer “show, don’t tell,” then why do so many people still voraciously read (and re-read) her novels? The classics are called “the classics” for a reason. They have timeless appeal.
I will offer several examples from Jane Austen and other great authors (specifically Charlotte Bronte and F. Scott Fitzgerald), in which we see the kind of telling so criticized and pushed to the margins in today’s literary world.
Persuasion by Jane Austen
From Persuasion, Chapter 8
(How Anne and Captain Wentworth felt about each other when they were first in love)
“With the exception, perhaps, of Admiral and Mrs. Croft, who seemed particularly attached and happy, (Anne could allow no other exception even among the married couples) there could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.”
In this passage, Jane Austen uses an incisive mode to reveal just how much affection Admiral and Mrs. Croft show for one another. However, more significantly, she uses that information to emphasize how much she and Captain Wentworth once loved each other. This emphasis makes us realize just how much Anne feels she lost by giving into Lady Russell’s pressure not to marry him. This juxtaposition and comparison of Anne and Wentworth’s relationship and Admiral and Mrs. Croft’s relationship is the most economical and effective way of proving the strength of both relationships.
From Persuasion, Chapter 19
“Anne would have been particularly obliged to her cousin, if he would have walked by her side all the way to Camden Place, without saying a word. She had never found it so difficult to listen to him, though nothing could exceed his solicitude and care, and though his subjects were principally such as were wont to be always interesting: praise, warm, just, and discriminating, of Lady Russell, and insinuations highly rational against Mrs. Clay. But just now she could think only of Captain Wentworth. She could not understand his present feelings, whether he were really suffering much from disappointment or not; and till that point were settled, she could not be quite herself. She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! alas! she must confess to herself that she was not wise yet. Another circumstance very essential for her to know, was how long he meant to be in Bath; he had not mentioned it, or she could not recollect it. He might be only passing through. But it was more probable that he should be come to stay. In that case, so liable as every body was to meet every body in Bath, Lady Russell would in all likelihood see him somewhere. Would she recollect him? How would it all be?”
This passage allows Jane Austen to confirm some of Anne’s thoughts on certain topics. More importantly, it gives us insight into how much or how intensely she thinks about Captain Wentworth. The narrator tells us that Anne doesn’t know how long the captain will be in Bath, but she is anxious to know. We also get insight into Anne’s curiosity about whether Lady Russel would remember Captain Wentworth. This hints at some anxiety about whether Lady Russel may try to interfere again.
From Persuasion, Chapter 2
“Lady Russell…was a woman rather of sound than of quick abilities, whose difficulties in coming to any decision in this instance were great, from the opposition of two leading principles. She was of strict integrity herself, with a delicate sense of honour; but she was as desirous of saving Sir Walter’s feelings, as solicitous for the credit of the family, as aristocratic in her ideas of what was due to them, as anybody of sense and honesty could well be. She was a benevolent, charitable, good woman, and capable of strong attachments, most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard of good-breeding. She had a cultivated mind, and was, generally speaking, rational and consistent–but she had prejudices on the side of ancestry; she had a value for rank and consequence, which blinded her a little to the faults of those who possessed them.”
This succinct passage tells us essential knowledge about Lady Russell. It is extremely effective at making us quickly understand that she is a fundamentally good woman, but that she has a potentially disastrous flaw that can ruin her judgment. This is the “blind spot” she has when it comes to people of high social status.
From Persuasion, Chapter 21
On Anne’s feelings for Mr. Elliott and Captain Wentworth
“She felt a great deal of good-will towards him. In spite of the mischief of his attentions, she owed him gratitude and regard, perhaps compassion. She could not help thinking much of the extraordinary circumstances attending their acquaintance, of the right which he seemed to have to interest her, by everything in situation, by his own sentiments, by his early prepossession. It was altogether very extraordinary; flattering, but painful. There was much to regret. How she might have felt had there been no Captain Wentworth in the case, was not worth enquiry; for there was a Captain Wentworth; and be the conclusion of the present suspense good or bad, her affection would be his for ever.”
Jane Austen tells us about Anne’s thoughts as she is walking on Bath. Through hearing her thoughts, we obtain insight into exactly how she feels about Mr. Elliot. As Anne is such a refined, circumspect person, it would be difficult for Jane Austen to be able to show her feelings in a dramatized way. Also, the way Jane Austen has phrased and organized this passage provides the opportunity for her to tell us about the strength of Anne’s present feelings about Captain Wentworth, and the fact that her devotion to Captain Wentworth automatically precludes any attachment to Mr. Elliot.
Just an aside (feel free to scroll down if you’re not interested): I wrote a prequel variation of Jane Austen’s Persuasion in 2020 (Anne and Wentworth: A Persuasion Prequel Variation). That was a stressful year and I wanted to publish my book right away (I suppose I just wanted to make myself feel a bit better), and I didn’t proofread it as carefully as I should have. I fixed the typos later. However, I could tell from some of the negative reviews that what several people disapproved of was my style. I did quite a bit of telling. But in my defense, so did Austen! That was when I realized that many Jane Austen variation readers haven’t actually read Austen’s novels. They’ve just seen the movie and TV adaptations. Very frustrating!
If you’d like to see my book, here is the link: www.amazon.com/Anne-Wentworth-Persuasion-Variation-Novelette-ebook/dp/B08NPQP5VP
Villette by Charlotte Bronte
From Villette, Chapter 7
“Much I marvelled at the sagacity evinced by waiters and chambermaids in proportioning the accommodation to the guest. How could inn-servants and ship-stewardesses everywhere tell at a glance that I, for instance, was an individual of no social significance and little burdened by cash? They did know it evidently. I saw quite well that they all, in a moment’s calculation, estimated me at about the same fractional value.”
In this insightful passage, the first-person narrator (Lucy Snowe) reflects on economic oppression. It tells us that Lucy lives in a society where people who are appraised as having little money are treated badly.
From Villette, Chapter 18
“‘Ginevra!’ He thought her so fair, so good; he spoke so lovingly of her charms, her sweetness, her innocence, that, in spite of my plain prose knowledge of the reality, a kind of reflected glow began to settle on her idea, even for me. Still, reader, I am free to confess that he often talked nonsense; but I strove to be unfailingly patient with him. I had had my lesson. I had learned how severe for me was the pain of crossing, or grieving, or disappointing him.”
This passage of Lucy’s reflections tells us how much John’s misguided praise for Ginevra affects Lucy. It also tells us that Lucy knows it is false, and even though it is hurting her, at this point she feels so much for John that she doesn’t want to contradict him.
From Villette, Chapter 21
“Indeed, everybody in the Rue Fossette held a superstition that ‘Meess Lucie’ was learned, with the notable exception of M. Emanuel, who, by means peculiar to himself, and quite inscrutable to me, had obtained a not inaccurate inkling of my real qualifications, and used to take quiet opportunities of chuckling in my ear his malign glee over their scant measure.”
This economical passage tells us that many people at the school where Lucy teaches falsely suspect that she has secret academic knowledge. It also tells us that Paul doesn’t think that, and that he often teases her about the opposite.
Another quick aside: I adore Villette! I love it so much I even wrote a screenplay adaptation of it. I couldn’t find an agent or any traditional publishing venue, so I decided to share it with the world by publishing it on KDP (Amazon). Let me know if you’re interested in seeing it and I will post the link.
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
From Jane Eyre, Chapter 2
“Why was I always suffering, always browbeaten, always accused, for ever condemned? Why could I never please? Why was it useless to try to win any one’s favour? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temper, a very acrid spite, a captious and insolent carriage, was universally indulged. Her beauty, her pink cheeks and golden curls, seemed to give delight to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity for every fault. John no one thwarted, much less punished; though he twisted the necks of pigeons, killed the little pea-chicks, set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory.”
In this passage, we are told how badly and unfairly Jane is treated by her aunt and cousins. We are also given information that proves their hypocrisy and cruelty.
From Jane Eyre, Chapter 2
“I was a discord in Gateshead Hall: I was like nobody there; I had nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen vassalage. If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them. They were not bound to regard with affection a thing that could not sympathise with one amongst them; a heterogeneous thing, opposed to them in temperament, in capacity, in propensities; a useless thing, incapable of serving their interest, or adding to their pleasure; a noxious thing, cherishing the germs of indignation at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment.”
Jane tells us that she is different from her aunt and cousins, and she feels that it is this difference that causes conflict.
From Jane Eyre, Chapter 27
“‘Who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?’ Still indomitable was the reply–’I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.”
In this passage, Jane tells us that she is determined to give herself care and respect, and she will do this no matter how other people treat her.
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
From The Great Gatsby, Chapter 1
“If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’--it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which is not likely I shall ever find again.”
In this passage, Nick Carraway, the narrator, is describing some of his impressions and interpretations of Jay Gatsby.
From The Great Gatsby, Chapter 7
“There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind, and as we drove away Tom was feeling the hot whips of panic. His wife and his mistress, until an hour ago secure and inviolate, were slipping precipitately from his control. Instinct made him step on the accelerator with the double purpose of overtaking Daisy and leaving Wilson behind.”
The narrator is giving us insight into why Tom is panicking and acting the way he is.
Conclusion
I hope I’ve helped you think about the “show, don’t tell” doctrine and whether it’s wrong to approach the issue in a “black and white” way. I feel that the way so many people approach this topic is stifling creativity and holding back writers who tend to write with more telling. As I argued early in this article, I feel that in many cases, it is simply a question of style.
Yes, sometimes a writer may tell when showing could truly be more effective, and I agree that it’s good to revise for more showing in that kind of situation. However, I think there is a major problem with people just unthinkingly, robot-like declaring “show, don’t tell.” Also, I think there needs to be more acknowledgment that there is a lot of overlap between showing and telling. Sometimes when we tell well enough, we show (as I think I demonstrated with the literary passages I included here).
References
Persuasion (1817) by Jane Austen (Oxford World’s Classics, 2004 Edition)
Jane Eyre (1847) by Charlotte Bronte (Bantam, 1987 Edition)
Villette (1853) by Charlotte Bronte (Arcturus Publishing, 2011 Edition)
The Great Gatsby (1925) by F. Scott Fitzgerald (Accessed on Project Gutenberg)
This image is from a photo by Birmingham Museum Trust on Unsplash