3.3–Key Components of Short Stories

Travis Rozier

The following sections introduce the most important elements of the short story. These elements should not be viewed as completely separate but as interdependent threads woven together to create the fabric of the story.

Plot

If you were to describe a story you read to a friend, you would likely begin by recounting what happened in the story or the series of events the story relates. When we discuss the events that happen over the course of a story, we are discussing plot. Rather than just a list of chronological events, however, short story plots tend to follow certain patterns that lead to satisfying and engaging stories.

First, short story plots tend to center around a central conflict. A story without conflict would be boring and pointless. Also, while a novel may include many conflicts that are raised and resolved over the course of the plot, due to the limited space, short stories most often focus on one conflict. Conflict can take several forms, though it most often occurs between the protagonist (central character) and something else. Some plots involve a person vs. person conflict in which the protagonist has some strife with another character. The story may involve a man attempting to survive in the wilderness, following the person vs. nature model. Rather than the natural world, the forces the protagonist finds themself up against may be societal forces. The protagonist in the person vs. society style conflict may struggle with poverty, sexism, racism, or some other societal problem. However, it is also possible that the strife experienced by the protagonist is an internal conflict, in which they struggle to make some decision, take some action, or simply come to a clear understanding of their world and their place in it. As an example of a story exhibiting person vs. person-style conflict, Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado” (1846) presents Montresor as he matches wits with Fortunato, leading him to his doom. In contrast, in Kate Chopin’s “Désirée’s Baby” (1893), while Désirée struggles with her husband Armand, the real conflict in the story is generated by the dictates of a racist antebellum southern society, thus providing a person vs. society-style conflict.

The development of the plot of the short story tends to follow set patterns as well. Most of the story involves establishing the conflict and building tension toward its inevitable resolution. We call this phase of the plot rising action. This leads to the moment in the story called the climax, in which the tension behind the conflict reaches its highest point, often prompting some action, choice, or realization by the characters. The climax is sometimes followed by a phase of falling action, in which the tension settles after the climax. The short story then typically ends with some description of the resolution, showing the reader where things stand in the aftermath of the conflict. Lastly, a story may include a denouement (which is French for “unraveling”), which is an ending that winds down the story after the resolution. A denouement may wrap up loose ends left behind after the resolution or even raise questions about the future of the characters. Using Poe’s story again as an example, we can see the development of Montresor’s plan and the walk with Fortunato through the catacombs as the rising action of the story that leads up to the climax when Montresor executes his plan and walls up Fortunato. Montresor’s hesitation to finish the wall can be seen as falling action, and the resolution occurs as he puts the last brick in place. Montresor’s brief statement that Fortunato has remained undisturbed for fifty years acts as the denouement, letting the reader know that Montresor got away with his crime.

While the climax of Poe’s story pays off the rising action in a logical and satisfying manner, we sometimes read stories that have anticlimactic resolutions. Take James Joyce’s “Araby” (1914) as an example: the rising action involves the narrator’s anticipation of going to the bazaar to buy something for Mangan’s sister. Once he finally gets to the bazaar, however, he finds that it is not the exotic market he imagined but feels cheap and common. This realization coincides with his overhearing a young woman flirt with some customers, an event that seems to cheapen his feelings toward Mangan’s sister. The climax of this story is a good example of an author using the form of the story, its arrangement of elements, to mirror the content, or the possible meanings it produces. Just as the narrator feels disappointed and disillusioned by his experience at the bazaar, the reader feels similar frustrations from the anticlimactic nature of the resolution.

Point of View

Just as important as what actually happens in a story is the point of view through which the reader perceives the events. Or, put another way, it is important to understand the type of narrator, or person telling the story, that the author uses. While a novel may switch narrative perspective from chapter to chapter, short stories most often adhere to one narrator throughout the story.

One common type of narrator is the first-person narrator, who recounts the events from their own point of view, using the word “I.” A first-person narrator is most often the protagonist of the story and recounts events that happened to them, making them a participant narrator. An obvious example of a first-person narrator is Poe’s Montresor, who recounts events from his life to an unknown audience.

Another, although seldom used, narrative technique is second-person narration, in which the narrator describes the actions of someone they address as “you,” pulling the reader in as a character in the story.

A story may also use third-person narration, in which a narrator tells the story from outside the events, referring to the characters by name or as “she,” “he,” or “them.” There are different types of third-person narration. Third-person narrators are usually non-participant narrators, meaning they do not take an active role in any of the events and never refer back to themself as “I.” Many stories are told by a third-person omniscient narrator. We refer to a narrator as omniscient, or all-knowing, when they take a godlike role in telling the story. They have access to all information, including each character’s thoughts and emotions. “Désirée’s Baby” is a good example of third-person omniscient narration. While most of the story focuses on Désirée, once she disappears from the story, our perspective shifts to Armand, and we learn important information that Désirée will never know.

A limited narrator, though they tell the story from the outside third-person perspective and have access to information the protagonist may not, focuses on one character’s perspective. Katherine Mansfield’s “Miss Brill” (1920) is told by a limited narrator. While it is told in the third person, the reader’s perspective is limited to that of Miss Brill. The story focuses on Miss Brill’s perceptions of self and especially her opinions of the people she sees on her Sunday afternoon out. Limiting our perspective to Miss Brill heightens the effect of the climax when she overhears a young couple talking about her.

A more modern narrative technique is the use of free indirect discourse, which refers to the subtle shifting within a story back and forth from third person omniscient to first person narration. The technique allows the reader to get the perspective of omniscient narration while also being privy to a character’s inner thoughts and feelings. “Miss Brill” also offers a good example of free indirect discourse. When describing the afternoon, the narrator states,

There were a number of people out this afternoon, far more than last Sunday. And the band sounded louder and gayer. That was because the Season had begun. For although the band played all the year round on Sundays, out of season it was never the same. It was like some one playing with only the family to listen; it didn’t care how it played if there weren’t any strangers present. Wasn’t the conductor wearing a new coat, too?[1]

Although the narrator does not explicitly assign these ideas to Miss Brill, the reader understands that these are her thoughts. She is the one who places so much importance on “the Season.”

Beyond these different types of narrative perspective, there are other considerations when thinking about narration. A reader should never simply assume that a narrator’s version of events is accurate or trustworthy. For example, if a story has a first-person narrator, a reader should always consider who this person is and how that should color the reader’s perception of their account. You may have an unreliable narrator, or a narrator whose version of events can’t be trusted. Poe’s Montresor could be considered an unreliable narrator. While we don’t get the impression that he is lying about the events, he is also clearly a sociopath. His instability raises important questions about his narrative account, such as whether Fortunato ever actually insulted him or if he feels any remorse for his actions. If a child is telling a story, you might consider them a naïve narrator. Children see things through their innocence and may fail to understand matters that an adult reader may comprehend.

However, this does not mean that only first-person narrators should be questioned. While many third-person narrators remain completely objective, merely telling the story, authors will sometimes use a narrator who editorializes, or comments and offers judgment on the actions of the characters. An author may invent a narrative persona, having a narrator with their own personality, opinions, and judgements, even though they do not take part in the story.

Character

Other major elements of the short story are character and character development. Characters are the people (usually, anyway) involved in the events of a story.

Protagonist, a term that I have used several times already in this introduction, refers to the central character of a story. Most stories focus on one character, though there may be many characters involved in the story. The antagonist, on the other hand, is the character we find opposed to the protagonist. The antagonist is the source of conflict and is often used as a foil to the protagonist, highlighting their characteristics by displaying opposite traits. We often refer to the protagonist as the hero of the story, though we should be careful doing that. A hero refers to a character who displays admirable attributes such as strength, bravery, and moral rectitude. A villain, on the other hand, opposes the hero and acts as his foil by displaying opposite traits. It is easy to assume that the protagonist will be a hero and the antagonist will be a villain, but that is often not the case. Poe’s Montresor, while he is the protagonist of the story, is no hero. He is much closer to a villain in his character, though he does not act as a foil for a hero. Fortunato is no villain, though he does act as a foil for Montresor, accentuating his cunning through his own gullibility and ineptitude. We may consider Montresor an antihero, or a protagonist who lacks traditional heroic qualities and may even have serious character flaws.

Heroes and villains tend to be flat characters, meaning they are under-developed characters who largely represent one dominant character trait, such as a hero who represents honesty and a villain who represents deceit. Most short stories include round characters, or complex characters who have a variety of personality traits, some of which may even conflict. A round character, for example, may succumb to greed or envy and steal something at one point in the story only to suffer guilt about the theft later. They may take a brave action only to subsequently feel fearful. In Hurston’s “Spunk” (1925), for example, Spunk is known for his bravery, but he is also superstitious, and his belief in spirits causes him great fear and eventually leads to his death. Round characters feel more realistic because, like real people, they are complicated and often experience internal conflict.

Another aspect of character development to consider is whether characters change over the course of the story. A character who experiences no essential change from the story’s beginning to its end is classified as a static character. Many characters will remain static throughout a story, and often even the protagonist remains unchanged. Both Montresor and Fortunato, though they are round characters, inhabit the story without ever changing and, therefore, remain in a state of stasis.

A character who does change over the course of a story is called a dynamic character. When a character changes in some way, it often indicates an important point in the story, and we should examine that change when attempting to understand the story’s possible meaning. In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown” (1846), the titular character, who begins as a happy man, loses faith in Puritan society over the course of the story and dies a miserable wretch. Often a character will undergo an epiphany, a sudden realization that leaves them changed. Miss Brill is utterly changed when she hears the young couple discussing her. Mansfield subtly demonstrates the change this epiphany evokes in Miss Brill by her deviation from the end of her usual Sunday routine.

Setting

When we discuss setting we are describing the time and place in which the story takes place. Setting may seem like just the background against which the characters exist and the plot unfolds; however, understanding setting can be integral to the story and the production of meaning. Also, determining time and place, or even what we mean by those terms, can be more complicated than it seems at first glance.

We might first consider the historical time and place of a story: In what year, decade, or century does the story take place; in what country, province, city; and what does this information tell us about the events of the story? Identifying a certain time and place in history can be very important to understanding the story. For example, it is crucial to know that “Desiree’s Baby” is set in the antebellum American south where the institution of slavery was in place and society had very strict racial codes governing who was granted full personhood. Without that historical knowledge, Chopin’s story would seem unintelligible.

Another way to understand setting in the short story is to think about the more immediate sense of time and place. For example, what time of day is it when the story occurs? We expect different things to happen in the morning than we do at midnight. Where, specifically, do the events unfold? Are we at the zoo, at a residence, or in the wilderness? These are all places that introduce very different circumstances. We also need to think about the duration of the story. In other words, how much time passes between the story’s beginning and end? Does the story consist of two incidents that happen a week apart, or does the entirety of the story take place in an afternoon?

Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado” makes an interesting case regarding the problem of time and place. The historical time is quite vague. We learn early on that the story is set in Italy in some bygone era, likely during the medieval or Renaissance periods, but can we even determine the century in which the story takes place? It seems the immediate setting is more important to understanding the story. The story takes place at night in Montresor’s catacombs, an excellent place for a murder. Next, we might consider the duration of the story, which seems to take place over a few hours. At the end of the story, however, we learn that fifty years has passed between the events and their relation, exploding our sense of duration and perhaps changing the way we see the story.

We should also note that while setting is often considered merely the backdrop of the story, there are stories in which setting, a description of the time and place of the story, is the primary element. In Sarah Orne Jewett’s “A White Heron” (1886), for example, the description of the New England wilderness, its flora and fauna, defines the story. Sylvia’s relationship to the place is her primary characteristic and shapes her relationship with the hunter/ornithologist, whom she sees as an outsider. The setting of this story is almost a character itself.

Theme

A story’s theme could be defined as the story’s main idea or even as the meaning of the story. Getting at the theme of a story can be difficult, not least because there may be multiple themes and disagreement about which theme is most important. When trying to understand the theme or themes of a story, it can be useful to try to boil it down to a short statement. This can be a frustrating activity but also a very productive one. Looking at Joyce’s “Araby,” you might try to sum up the theme and come up with the following: “Being young can be difficult.” Not bad, but you know you can do better. You look more closely at the story to see what it says is difficult about being young, and you write, “Young love can be painful.” You’re getting closer. You think more about the end of the story and the connection between the bazaar and the narrator’s crush on Mangan’s sister, and finally you write, “Being stripped of your naïve notions about love can be a painful process.” This is a completely viable statement of the story’s theme.

Symbol

You’re probably familiar with the idea of a symbol, or a thing that represents more than its literal meaning. However, there are different types of symbols that you should be familiar with. Conventional symbols are symbols that most people recognize. When I ask students what a bird may symbolize, they almost always answer “freedom.” The association between birds and freedom has become so ingrained in our collective cultural consciousness that we all recognize the association without having to think about it. Roses stand for love, spring stands for youth or renewal, and skulls symbolize death. These are associations we all recognize instantly.

Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown” makes use of some conventional symbolism. When Goodman Brown meets the man in the woods, the man’s staff, shaped like a serpent, draws on biblical imagery to symbolize the evil nature of their meeting and perhaps identify the man as Satan. The story also borders on the allegorical in the naming of some of its characters. An allegory is a story in which the characters are very obviously meant to represent certain ideas or concepts to offer lessons to the reader. Pilgrim’s Progress, a very famous allegory written by John Bunyan, includes characters such as Christian, Piety, and Charity. “Young Goodman Brown” does something similar in naming Goodman Brown’s wife Faith.

It should also be noted that symbols are not relegated to objects. As the above example demonstrates, they can be characters. They can also be settings, such as the dense forest that represents the hidden nature of human evil in “Young Goodman Brown.” Characters can also perform symbolic acts. When Miss Brill returns her fur to its box at the end of the story, the act carries symbolic weight beyond her just putting her things away.

Most short stories, however, are not full of obvious conventional symbolism. Very often, symbols within the literary work are only intelligible within the work itself. The white heron in Jewett’s story, for example, could stand for freedom, but this seems unsatisfying given the context of the story. Rather, the bird seems to represent the New England wilderness itself, which Sylvia is trying to protect from the hunter. Even that answer, however, feels insufficient. She protects the heron by keeping its secret, the location of its nest. The hunter, after all, is an ornithologist whose goal is to gain knowledge about the animal, and Sylvia becomes the protector of that knowledge. Does the bird, then, represent some relationship with the natural world that will be lost if subjected to a modern science that seeks to extract its secrets through acts of violence? Or, to move in a different direction, does the natural world in the story merely stand between the man and the girl, symbolizing Sylvia’s complex feelings about his adult male presence as she moves closer to womanhood? Does her act of protecting the heron from the hunter symbolize her desire to protect her own girlhood innocence from the world of men for a while longer?

As I hope the preceding discussion illustrates, symbols perhaps work best when, rather than clearly representing one thing, they are complex and layered with meaning, and interpreting them unfolds a multiplicity of possible meanings that allow us to understand the story in new and different ways.

Style and Tone

Just as important as the various elements that make up a short story is the language the author uses to construct those elements. When we discuss the style of a story, we refer to the characteristics of the prose itself. When analyzing the style of a story, you should consider literary concerns such as the use of symbolism but also more basic elements of the prose such as syntax (sentence structure) and diction (word choice). Style is created both by the level of the diction used, such as if the story is written entirely in everyday words or if it uses a lot of words you might find on the SAT, and by the ways those words are put together into syntax. A story written in terse, reserved prose, composed of short sentences with no extra detail, will read much differently than a story written in long, winding sentences full of purple prose, or prose with a lot of ornate description. For example, in the first sentence of “Miss Brill,” in describing the weather, the narrator details “the blue sky powdered with gold and great spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins Publiques.” The story would have a much different feel if Mansfield had merely written, “It was a nice day.”

Of course, noting the style of a work only matters insofar as we can use that observation to say something about the effect it creates for the story. In the example above, the purple prose in the description of the day reflects back on Miss Brill’s character. Much like the prose, Miss Brill is lavish, over-the-top, a bit pretentious, and has a flair for the dramatic, character traits that are immediately confirmed as she decides to wear her fur despite the pleasant weather.

There are also other, more obvious, ways writers can use style and diction to create certain effects in their work. For example, Zora Neale Hurston writes all of her characters’ dialogue in dialect, or writing meant to convey the way people sound when they speak. The use of dialect gives the reader a sense not just of the characters, but also of the place and culture to which they belong. While dialect has often been used in a derogatory fashion, implying that characters who speak in dialect are inferior to those who speak “proper” English, it can also function to validate the realistic sounds of speech and the value of human beings who speak in this way. An author’s intention in employing dialect makes all the difference in how we understand its purpose and whether it serves as a slur or as a way to demonstrate characters’ complexity. In the latter case, dialect works to undercut the assumption that all literary works must employ formal English. In this way the use of dialect can be an act of resistance, refusing a privileged and myopic view of what constitutes humanity.

Analyzing the style of a story can also be important for understanding the story’s tone, or the perception of the events that we think the writer wants us to have. For example, in “The Cask of Amontillado,” Montresor, our narrator, seems to brag about the actions he takes in the story, but this does not mean that Poe expects us to view the murder as an acceptable act. In fact, Montresor’s detailed recounting of the events and his seeming pride in their meticulous execution add to the horror of the story because they show us that he is not only a murderer but also remorseless. Taking another example that illustrates more clearly the relationship between tone and style, let’s consider Joyce’s “Araby.” Although the story is narrated in the first person by our protagonist, a young boy, the quality of the prose and the level of the diction do not reflect the consciousness of the child. For example, at the end of the story, when the narrator states, “I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity,” it is difficult to imagine a child having these thoughts. This may lead us to assume that the narrator is the adult version of this boy, looking back on events from his childhood with a mature understanding of their significance. This assumption changes the way we think about the overall tone of the story.

Irony

Irony, or the discrepancy between expectation and reality, is a powerful literary tool but also one of the most misunderstood and, likely, the most incorrectly used literary terms. Students often refer to any events in stories that seem significant or unexpected as ironic, but irony refers to a much narrower set of circumstances.

Verbal irony is the discrepancy between words and their meaning. Sarcasm is the most common form of verbal irony. When you spill coffee on yourself and say, “Well, that’s just great!” you don’t really mean that it’s great; you mean the opposite. Verbal irony can be used to great effect in the short story. In “The Cask of Amontillado,” when Fortunato refuses to leave the catacomb and remarks, “I shall not die of a cough,” and Montresor replies, “True—true,” these words are ironic because they are heavy with unintended significance. While it is true that the cough will not kill him, Fortunato will soon die because he refuses to leave the catacombs, thus falling prey to Montresor’s trap.

Fortunato’s situation is also a good example of dramatic irony, which occurs when the reader understands the ironic meaning behind the words or actions while the character does not. Fortunato doesn’t recognize his words as ironic because he is unaware of Montresor’s plan, but the reader does. A similar example occurs in Chopin’s story when Désirée protests to Armand, “Look at my hand; whiter than yours, Armand.” Désirée is merely trying to convince Armand that she does not have African ancestry, but her words take on ironic significance at the end of the story when we learn that it is Armand who is of mixed race.

Writers may also create situational irony, or a discrepancy between actions and their intended consequences, In Mansfield’s “Miss Brill,” Miss Brill wears her fur to feel good about herself, but the action has the opposite effect when she overhears the young couple making fun of her for wearing it.

Attribution:

Rozier, Travis. “Short Story: Reading for Major Elements.” In Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing. 3rd ed. Edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney. College Station: Texas A&M University, 2024. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

 


  1. Katherine Mansfield, “Miss Brill,” in The Garden Party and Other Stories (1922; Project Gutenberg, August 20, 2008), https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1429/1429-h/1429-h.htm#chap09.
definition

License

Icon for the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License

3.3--Key Components of Short Stories Copyright © 2024 by Travis Rozier is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License, except where otherwise noted.