The below story is of a memorable incident from when I was
younger involving my mother, a fish and a suntan cream bottle. It is a story I have previously told in
relation to vegetarianism and as a story about my mother. There were differences between the story I
have written above and the one I told. The told story used more expressive pausing, and was supported by tone,
gesture and facial expression. I was
able to work more with humour. I also
told a supporting side story in more depth as I was not limited by concerns
about length. The written story was fixed and had been written with stylistic
concerns and therefore didn’t incorporate pauses and ums errs etc. as part of
the story. With the spoken story when
the listener looked like they could use more information I elaborated – thus
the listener had an impact on the story. In addition this story was changed slightly, as listener knew certain
background information about characters, which changed the tone, impact and
ending evaluation.
________________________________
So, I was sixteen; full of life, beliefs and determination. I was attempting
to be a vegetarian. It was not working, and had not been working for about a
year. My mother had had difficulties with the concept, so we came to an agreement. I could
be vegetarian during the week as long as I ate Sunday Lunch and whatever I was given if we
were visiting relatives. It was my only option at that age, so I became an
off-peak vegetarian.
That summer I was on holiday with my parents and staying with relatives in
their summer house in Øyerhavn on Varaldsøy.
I had already had the memorable `lamb-stew/reindeer’ incident, and was
trying to put it behind me, when my parents decided to go trail-line fishing. Mostly for the exercise, I think, as they certainly
did not expect to catch anything.
So, I held onto the trailing line while my mother and father rowed around
the fjord.
There was a tugging at the line.
"Mum! I think we may have caught something!"
"No. Don't worry, it is probably just caught on a bit of seaweed. You keep
hold of it."
Five minutes later:
"Muuuuum. I really don't think it is seaweed!"
"No. It just feels as if there is something on the end, but there isn't
really."
"Mum. I really don't like this."
"OK. Let's reel it in so we can see what it is wrong."
So, we reeled in the line.
At the end of the line, there was, a fish.
A real living fish.
A real living fish caught by one of the barbs on the line.
A real living fish, caught through one set of gills, by one of the barbs on the line.
I had had enough. I was a teenage vegetarian and wanted none of this. I
watched as my parents tried to deal with it.
They really had not expected to catch anything.
"OK. So we need to lift it into the boat."
"We didn't bring a net."
"OK. So we hope that the line is strong enough."
And so, they did.
The fish was lifted, by the barb through its gills, into the boat. It almost
tore, but was just strong enough to get it into the rowing boat.
I was not at all impressed. In fact, I was appalled.
But worse was to come.
"OK. So we need to kill it quickly."
"We didn't bring a knife."
"OK. I'll find something to hit it with."
I watched as my mother picked up a bottle of Nivea
Suntan Cream, and proceeded to bash the fish with it. She hit it with all
her strength.
It died quickly. (Whether from lack of oxygen, confusion, damage to its
gill, or suntan-cream attack, I cannot say.)
I sat there, in the boat, as I was rowed back to the bay. I could not
believe what had just happened.
But, there was the fish and there was my mum and there was the
bottle of suntan cream next to her.
...
That evening, we had fish for dinner. I had to eat it. After all, we
were visiting relatives, and I did not get a say in the matter.
After staring at it for a long time, I ate.
It was the best tasting fish in the world.
...
Since that day I have never tried to be a vegetarian. I do not have it in
me. I just cannot justify it.
________________________________
What is the difference between a written and a spoken story?
- Expanded in the telling.
- Depending on the audience some things may not need to be
mentioned or referred to, they can be taken as presumed. The reverse can also be true.
- Style and structure are important in written work, whereas
pauses, tone and laughter are important in spoken stories.
- Written stories can be revisited but are fixed, whereas told
stories are mutable – each telling is different and each retelling is a new
version.
- The audience may also interact with you while telling to
help shape or co-construct the narrative.
----------
I felt it was quite a shame that I did not have a copy transcribed of my spoken version of this story. It would have been very interesting to note the differences between the two; such as the differences between categories used (more expected to be present in the written story – and indeed they were all present), amount of repetition (although plenty was use in the written, more could be expected in the spoken), performative aspects, and the effect of co-construction.
My creative writing style mimics that of a spoken story in several respects as I prefer to show not tell. This was interesting as it meant that much of the evaluation in my story (about my memories of my mother killing a fish) was Evaluative Action, rather than External or Embedded Evaluation.
The Labovian approach does provide a usefully prescriptive way to approach an event story, but I am convinced that limiting the concept of narrative to that which fits this schema is prohibitively restrictive. This is very true for my research where I also gather habitual and co-constructed stories for analysis.