4.1–Introduction

The borders of the country between these two more orderly regions [the short story and the novel] are ill-defined, but at some point the writer wakes up with alarm and realizes that he’s come or is coming to a really terrible place, an anarchy-ridden literary banana republic called the “novella.”^[1]

—Stephen King, “Afterword,” Different Seasons: Four Novellas

Novellas are generally understood to be literary works that are longer than short stories and shorter than novels. Sometimes they are defined as fiction that ranges in length from 50–200 pages, and many novella definitions include a word count. Take a look at literary awards for the novella, and you will find a word count rather than a page range applied. What you will not find, however, is an exact, universal word count: the range is anywhere between 10,000–40,000 words, a length closer to a brief novel than a short story, and, unlike most short stories, many novellas rely on chapter divisions. However, novellas do not always have chapter divisions, which is why word count is an important distinction.

What should begin to emerge here in our attempt to delineate the novella is that the form defies easy definition. As Stephen King implies in the epigraph to this chapter, novellas are the misfit of the literary world. Because there is no universal definition for the novella and they more closely resemble a novel than a short story, a literary work could be labeled by some as a novel and by others a novella. This raises the question: what sets the novella apart from other literary forms? To begin, we agree with scholars who argue that the novella is more than just a word count. While length is the first signal that a written work may be a novella, another defining feature of this form is its intense focus on a single character or conflict. This intense focus sets the novella apart from the novel and the short story in a few ways. Judith Leibowitz writes that a novella “can be described as an intensive analysis of a limited area with wide, undeveloped implications.”^[2] Leibowitz argues,

Whereas the short story limits material and the novel extends it, the novella does both in such a way that a special kind of narrative structure results, one which produces a generically distinct effect: the double effect of intensity and expansion. Since the motifs in a novella are usually part of a closely associated cluster of themes, the same material remains in focus, while in the novel, the central focus shifts. By means of this treatment of theme,. . . all the motifs are interrelated, permitting the novella to achieve an intense and constant focus on the subject. At the same time, since the implications of each motif are suggested but not explicitly developed, the novella is eminently a narrative of suggestion.^[3]

As Liebowitz points out above, novellas are able to do two things: they achieve “intensity” as they must focus on one character or conflict, using patterns and themes to develop the way we understand that focal point more quickly than a novel does, and they also achieve “expansion” in that they are not as restricted by space as the short story is. In other words, novellas occupy a space between the short story and the novel, accomplishing things neither can achieve because of their own characteristics.

In contrast to the novel, one of the ways the novella accomplishes its intensity is through avoiding subplots and hosts of minor characters, instead narrowly focusing on a central protagonist or conflict. Because of its limited length, a novella accomplishes this focus by condensing meaning through the use of literary elements (such as symbols, motifs, imagery, figurative language). Such elements occur frequently and may be more interrelated in order to establish or hint at the novella’s theme(s), unlike in longer works where, for example, symbols and motifs can signal multiple unrelated themes. For example, in The Awakening (1899), Kate Chopin creates one motif by using birds symbolically at important moments in the narrative. The novel opens with caged birds, one of the characters likens artists to birds in that they must be able to fly above conventions, Edna moves to a home called the Pigeon House, and the novel’s ending contains an image of a bird. All of these entwine to create a concentrated vein of meaning running throughout the work. In contrast, Charlotte Brontë also incorporates bird imagery in her novel Jane Eyre (1847). Here, however, the bird imagery is diffused over a much longer period of time and can be interpreted more widely.

While the novella’s shorter length and intensity of focus set it apart from the novel, these same features make it akin to the short story. Unlike the short story, the novella occupies more space in which to develop its intense focus on one character within limited settings. In contrast to the short story, the novella has the ability to expand and develop its exploration of a protagonist and other literary elements while still maintaining its characteristic keen focus. Take, for instance, Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour” (1894), which takes place over the course of one hour in one house. The story is intense, but any expansion of its ideas is not included. Rather, Chopin uses symbols, repetition, and irony to quickly present a snapshot of Mrs. Mallard’s life. By comparison, Chopin presents the reader with a much more detailed portrait of Edna over a longer period of time and in different locales in The Awakening.

Liebowitz’s definition of the novella as demonstrating both intensity and expansion fits a number of works, including Henry James’s The Turn of the Screw (1898), John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men (1937), Chopin’s The Awakening, and Nnedi Okorafor’s Binti (2015). In addition, as is apparent in this short list, novellas may cover any genre of fiction that a short story or novel may, from horror (Turn of the Screw) to realism (Of Mice and Men and The Awakening) to science fiction (Binti) and beyond.