7 Chapter 7: What is Theme and How do we Analyze its Development?

Chapter 7: What is Theme and How do we Analyze its Development?

Everything we have been going over thus far–and everything we will cover in the subsequent chapters–has been leading up to the question of theme and how we analyze its development in works of fiction. Theme is generally described shorthandedly as an idea that a narrative is conveying. And that’s effectively what a theme is: narratives introduce certain subjects or issues through their arrangements of plot, character, and setting and the overall “spin” implicit in its mode of deploying this subject, its implicit “philosophy” of this topic, is what we call theme. Theme cannot be conveyed by one or two words: death, transcendence, and Igbo cultural identity are all subjects, not themes. The complex, nuanced overall “statement” that the narrative as a whole is making about the nature of this subject through its manner of treating it through narrative — that is the theme. So to take the previous examples, “death is the act that gives overall meaning to a life,” “art can allow us to transcend even the most grim and socially marginalized living circumstances,” and “Igbo cultural identity is not homogenous, but has always been somewhat multifarious and contested, even during the precolonial period” are all themes or thematic statements a work of fiction might be making about the subjects mentioned above.

When we articulate theme and then break down how that theme has been developed over the course of the narrative, providing good, systematic textual evidence to show how this has been accomplished, we are offering an interpretation of a work of fiction. And this is precisely what we are to do when we are called on to analyze a work of fiction; in middle school we are generally called on to just summarize the work (to prove that we have basic reading comprehension skills), but from here forward you are being called on to put into practice this higher order form of reading that we call interpretation—to tease out central themes that works of fiction are conveying through their artful arrangement of the different formal structures of fiction that we have been covering in this textbook.

So how do we pull everything we’ve been looking at together to arrive at a methodology for analyzing theme? Well, unlike with math, there are no set formulas to use time and again, because works of fiction draw on a lot of different strategies for developing theme. So we will have to read imaginatively and over time develop a critical sensibility of the sort we discussed in chapter 2. But there are some things we can look out for that in the vast majority of cases will put us on the right track of tracing a work’s development of theme:

• The work’s title: Titles speak to what lies at the heart of a work. The title of this textbook, like those of all textbook’s, speaks in blunt, direct declarative language to its main focus. Works of popular fiction have titles that generally speak to their central plot focus either very literally, like in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, or in approachably metaphorical terms, like in the Twilight series (twilight being that time of day where day and night meet, or here the children of day and night – humans and vampires). But works of literary fiction are by nature idea-driven, and their titles generally speak in some way, shape, or form (generally oblique or figurative) to a central theme (or themes) at the heart of the work. This may take the form of some central metaphor or symbol the text employs, suggesting the centrality of this metaphor or symbol to the themes the work is dealing with – as in the case of Hermann Hesse’s novel Steppenwolf, a narrative fundamentally about outsiderness and alienation. It may proceed by way of allusion, where a work “riffs” off the meanings contained in an earlier text, like William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, whose title alludes to a line from Shakespeare’s Macbeth that says human beings make a lot of noise in life, but when all is said and done those lives don’t mean much (for more on allusion, see chapter 9). And sometimes a work takes its title from the name of a central character, suggesting that its core themes revolve around that character, like in Kurt Vonnegut’s story “Harrison Bergeron,” whose title character dramatizes the social dangers of too much exceptional individualism and too much forced equality.
• Structure of conflict and resolution: As we discussed in our chapter on analyzing plot, the structure of conflict and resolution driving a narrative will put in play certain subjects or issues, and the overall take or inflection that the work as a whole gives to these is a central theme of the work. If we have a love plot, the work is going to be saying something about the nature of love, but also related concepts such as sexuality, relationship power dynamics, gender identity, and jealousy or possessiveness. A political drama will be intrinsically conveying certain themes about the political system that it represents, but also about such related issues as ambition, the nature of public opinion, the relationship between wealth and power, and/or betrayal.
• Patterns of repetition and emphasis: When analyzing the development of theme, keep an eye out for repetitions: plot points, imagery, uncommon words, and so forth. If we see for instance, multiple sibling relationships featured in the plot, repeated fire imagery, or multiple uses of a word like “stygian” or “ardor” that one doesn’t encounter frequently, we should ask if this fits into a larger pattern of thematic development we see emerging in the text. Likewise, if a narrative stops and lingers descriptively over something that isn’t essential to advancing the plot—the books on a character’s bookcase or all of the furnishings in a large ballroom , for instance—we should stop and ask what role these details play in advancing the themes the narrative is developing.
• Symbols and allusions: The next two chapters will look in depth at symbolism and allusion, but because their narrative function is to develop theme, a brief preview here is in order. Some objects, aspects of setting, names, etc. occurring in a narrative can be read as standing for an idea; this is what we call symbolism. Some conventional symbols are dogs symbolizing loyalty, red roses symbolizing passionate love, and a path representing the journey through life. But not all instances of symbolism draw on these kind of stock symbols. A narrative may develop its own symbols, using a fleet of garbage trucks to symbolize U.S. society’s obliviousness to the ecological costs of mass consumerism or a moldering old birthday cake to symbolize loss, regret, and the fleeting nature of elation. Since symbols advance ideas, when you recognize one, ask how it fits into the larger pattern of thematic development you are seeing in a narrative.

Another “tool” narratives use to develop theme is to make reference to other texts or to historical figures or events in a manner similar to sampling in music or hyperlinks on the worldwide web. Known as allusion, this is a way of borrowing or “piggy-backing” off of the themes developed in this reference to history or to another text. For instance, a character in a story could say he isn’t “into being his brother’s keeper,” verbally alluding to the story of Cain and Abel in the biblical Book of Genesis, with its complex mediation on the ethical obligations and violent rivalries that undergird fraternal relationships. Or a city in a narrative might be named Laghouat, alluding to the site of an 1852 French army massacre of Algerians in its brutal “pacification” of the country and thereby introducing the idea of mass violence in the service of imperialism. Again, for more information of the ways that symbols and allusions advance theme, see the following two chapters.

• Dynamic characters: As we discussed in our chapter on analyzing characterization, if a major character changes in some way over the course of a narrative, the work is conveying some theme based on the nature of that change. For example, if a character encounters characters of different social backgrounds over the course of a narrative and consequently moves away from his close-mindedness and intolerance at the beginning of the narrative, then the story is saying that experience has the capacity to make people more open-minded and accepting of difference over time.

There are some additional key considerations we have to keep in mind when analyzing a work’s development of theme. For one, we have to analyze a work as a whole, as an entire textual unit with complex internal interrelationships, not just “cherry-pick” part of the narrative, ignoring how the themes it conveys receive further development elsewhere in the narrative. A novel, for instance might advance a certain idea about bravery in an earlier chapter, only to deeply challenge or qualify this idea with events that occur towards the end of the narrative. Another thing to keep in mind is just because a character expresses an idea doesn’t mean that the narrative as a whole embraces it. Works of fiction, especially novels, employ a kind of dissonant chorus of different voices and perspectives through different characters, some of whom only exist thematically to show how wrong-headed their viewpoint is. For example, a number of characters in Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises express anti-Semitic viewpoints, but this doesn’t mean that the work itself is anti-Semitic, just that it thematically explores the nature of anti-Semitism in relationship to the U.S. culture of the time. Similarly, very rarely is a character with all the answers going to stand up on a soap box and pontificate for the reader, directly and unalloyedly laying out theme; while there are certain works that do this, like Jack London’s socialist classic The Iron Heel, this kind of heavy-handed preachiness is considered unartful and hence is generally avoided in works of modern fiction—if you were to take a creative writing class in fiction writing, one of the first things you would be taught is that fiction should “show, not tell.” That is, expect themes to be developed through the unfolding of plot and character, not to be spelled out through blunt declarative language like that of an accounting textbook—because this is how fiction as a genre communicates: by making stories that illustrate certain things about the nature of their subject matter.

And finally, when analyzing the development of theme, make sure that you are laying out the abstract concept (theme) the narrative is conveying, then breaking down thoroughly how it has been developed through the development of plot, character, etc. and through such devices as symbolism and allusion—make sure that you are not just summarizing (recapping the major events of the plot). Ask yourself, are you saying that “The Tortoise and the Hare” is a story about the superiority of hard work and perseverance over inherent talent, then breaking down how this idea has been developed through the construction of the narrative, or are you just saying that “The Tortoise and the Hare” is a story about a turtle and a rabbit who get in a race that the turtle wins?

Suggested Short Story Readings to Accompany This Chapter

                Obviously all works of fiction convey themes, so just about any work could be used to compliment this chapter. My preference is for works with a relatively unambiguous development of themes that have not over time become clichéd or proverbial. James Baldwin’s “Sonny’s Blues” is a good fit, as is George Saunders’s “Sea Oak” (because it challenges hegemonic notions regarding the American Dream and poverty) and Vonnegut’s “Harrison Bergeron” (because U.S. students, being in the grip of hegemonic notions regarding freedom and totalitarianism, will tend to elide certain crucial textual details and fail to see the story’s satirical critique of incipient U.S. television culture).