IV
A GOOD STORY

With houses and stories it is much the same. As any one may build a hut, so any one may compose a short story. In both cases the materials may be common and cheap, and the construction careless. The one may give shelter from the storm, and the other may hold attention for a moment. Neither may be worth much. Somewhat better are the ordinary house, and the ordinary story. Both are good, and fairly well constructed, but the material is frequently commonplace, and the general characteristics ordinary. To lift either a house or a story out of the ordinary there must be fine material, artistic workmanship, close and tender association with life,—something beautiful, or good, or true. For the highest beauty there is need of something other than obedience to rule in construction. Any architect can tell how to build a beautiful house, but there is a fine beauty no mere architect can give, a beauty that comes with years, or the close touch of human joys and sorrows. It is the same with stories. We can not analyze the finer quality, but we can, at least, tell some of the characteristics that make short stories good.

As Poe said, the best short story is short enough to be read at a sitting, so that it produces a single effect. It includes nothing that does not lead to that effect, and it produces the effect as inevitably as an arrow flies to its mark. The ending is necessary, the one solution to which everything has moved from the beginning. In some way the story is close to life, and is so realistically told that the reader is drawn into its magic, and half believes it real.

It has a combination of plot and characters,—the nature of the characters making the action, and the action affecting the persons involved.

Without action of some sort there would, of course, be no story, but the action,—usually built up of two opposing forces,—must be woven into plot, that is, into a combination of events that lead to a definite result, perhaps not known at first by the reader, but known from the beginning by the author. The plot is somewhat simple, for the story is too short to allow of much complexity. The action and the characters are based on some experience, imaginary or otherwise, and are honestly presented. In the best short story there is no pronounced artificiality or posing.

There is always a certain harmony of content, so that plot and characters work together naturally, every detail strictly in keeping with the nature of the story.

The best story has an underlying idea,—not necessarily a moral,—a thought or theme, very often concerned with ideals of conduct, that can be expressed in a sentence.

Closely associated with everything is an indefinable something, that rises from the story somewhat as the odor of sandalwood rises from an oriental box, a sort of fragrance, or charm, a deeply appealing characteristic that we call “atmosphere.”

Some stories may emphasize one point, and others another,—the plot, the characters, the setting, the theme, or the atmosphere. As they vary thus they reveal new lights, colors, and effects.

Still more do they vary in the charm that comes from apt choice of words, and originality or beauty of phrasing.