The science of storytelling

By Will Storr

I confess that I already have an interest in the meaning of story, influenced by myth and Joseph Campbell, so I was interested to read a more recent interpretation of heroic themes and tropes across stories. Detractors have often felt that Campbell oversimplifies mythic tropes and/or adapts them to fit the structure he is trying to create of the monomyth. But I believe most would agree that there are commonalities that we always see – a hero, a guide, a tragic event and a call to adventure seem to be pretty commonplace across film, TV and books. But what does a modern interpretation look like? And what does science and other developments have to say about how we interact and react to these tropes? Storr looks to break down not only the common tropes, but why they resonate. I mean we know there’s usually a hero, who acts heroically, selflessly, for the greater good of everyone, but why is it there? Why does the hero have to have something bad happen to him? This book seeks to ask and delve a little into these kind of questions.

In some ways the book is dense, at around 230 pages, but it would be unfair to describe it as such as Storr’s writing flows effortlessly. I read the book in a day which is very rare for me to do – it is helped by it being a bit shorter than the usual 300-400 pages you typically see, but also the writing style. This could be a subject where it gets bogged down on specific points, but Storr is brilliant at blending science, dramatic and literary study to explore these questions around storytelling.

The book is divided up into the following chapters: creating a world, the flawed self, the dramatic question, plots, ending and meaning, the sacred flaw approach. In all, they tend to comprise of a blend of psychology, drama and the real world. Some of these may be quite familiar to those who have read around the subject – Aristotle’s Poetics, for example, or Campbell’s work. Typically, it’s fairly accepted that we have to have some problem which the hero willingly confronts, and that the hero has to overcome for the good of the village, community or world or worlds. But the value that Storr adds to this discussion is the psychological aspects. Why do we find these topics and approaches particularly interesting? Well a lot of it is to do, for example, with curiosity:

‘Curiosity is shaped like a lowercase n. It’s at its weakest when people have no idea about the answer to a question and also when entirely convinced they do. The place of maximum curiosity – the zone in which storytellers play – is when people think they have some idea but aren’t quite sure.’ (pp.18)

We have to relate to the story somewhat – through the characters, either seeing ourselves in them or knowing people like them, and understanding what they have to go through to deal with the problems and setbacks occur. Without any relatability we lack attachment to the story, and if the story is laid out too clearly it becomes predictable or tedious. Such is the art of curiosity.

A BIG problem

Similarly David and Goliath narratives (pp.99) are relatable and important – we all believe that morally we act in a way that makes sense, or at least we have justifications, reasons and cause and effects for understanding why and how things have turned out a particular way. And so the events in a story typically provide a decent understanding of this, else it will lack meaning. If we are not a moral actor in our own lives, our lives lack meaning too. We have to see this in the stories we see, else again we tend not to care.

So this book doesn’t feel comprehensive in some ways, because it is a more readable take that interprets and applies psychology to interpreting why tropes and approaches in storytelling resonate and work effectively. Sometimes it is even predominantly anecdotal, talking about the author’s high neuroticism and low extraversion for example (pp.170) and exploring what this means in interpreting story. People who have been socially successfully tend to pay attention to people chatting and sociailizing if they see, say a school corridor where lots of social interaction is going on. But then those with a history of loneliness and isolation barely pay attention to these. Our brains have an impact on what we look for and perhaps this isn’t all that surprising when it comes to storytelling.

The appendix speaks of the sacred flaw approach, influenced by the psychologist Jonathan Haidt, where he argues that to find the sacredness is to find the compelling aspects, because whatever a character or person holds as sacred is where irrationality will be. Storr mentions that this – looking for the broken, irrational aspects of characters and how they fix them, is the key to a good story.

Final score

To criticise this book is very difficult, because the combination of psychology, references and anecdotes are compiled in a compelling way. I am fascinated by the subject because clearly we have some attraction to methods in this book. Some may disagree with the interpretations, or feel there is too much emphasis on how our brains have adapted from hunter-gatherer times, a narrative that pervades almost every popular science book – be it over-emphasized or accurate. But I think in the science of storytelling, it does an almost flawless job of exploring what these tropes and ideas mean, why they are relevant, and why good stories from Harry Potter to citizen kane contain them. If you want a book covering these aspects, this is a must-read.

9/10