THE

LITERARY GENRE

CALLED SHORT STORY

What is a short story?

Archetypes in Narrative plots

P LOT ARCHETYPE	D ESCRIPTION
1 Overcoming the Monster	One way in which a story seems naturally to form in the human imagination shows the hero being called to face and overcome a terrible and deadly personification of evil. It might also be an inner monster.
2 Rags to Riches	We see an ordinary, insignificant person, dismissed by everyone as of little account, who suddenly steps to the centre of the stage, revealed to be someone quite exceptional. In all these scenes, someone who has seemed to the world quite commonplace is dra matically shown to have been hiding the potential for a second, much more exceptional, self within.

3 The Quest	The Quest usually begins on a note of the most urgent compulsion. For the hero to remain quietly 'at home' (or wherever he happens to be) has become impossible. The journey is experienced in itself as a series of alternating phases of life - threatening cons triction followed by life - giving release.
4 Voyage and Return	A fourth way in which a story may take shape in the human imagination shows the hero or heroine being abruptly transported out of their 'normal' world into an abnormal world, and eventually back to where they began.
5 Comedy	What we are looking at when confronted by a fully developed Comedy is not unlike a jigsaw puzzle. By the time a jigsaw is complete, it seems obvious that there is only one way it could have ended up , even if it has not looked so obvious at an earlier stage , when the significance of the fragment of picture on each piece was still unclear.
6 Tragedy	Each of these stories shows a hero being tempted or impelled into a course of action which is in some way dark or forbidden. For a time, as the hero embarks on a course, he enjoys almost unbelievable, dreamlike success. But somehow it is in the nature of t he course he is pursuing that he cannot achieve satisfaction.
7 Rebirth	These are stories which show that climb upward from darkness reaching its ultimate triumphant conclusion, where the hero or heroine can re - emerge into the light altogether.

The

creative imagination of a teenager

Male Archetypes
Warrior	Brave, honourable, self - controlled, with moral and physical courage . Takes responsibility for actions .
Pilgrim	Searcher, wanderer, full of hope, faith, need to improve life .
Wildman	Lustiness, unpredictability, independence .
Lover	Caring, giving, deeply empathic, sensitive to pain and joy . Primal energy and passion .
Patriarch	Responsibility, moral principles, care, nobility, self - sacrifice .
Healer	Mystical, spiritual , b ringer of wholeness to people and societies .
Magician	Intuition and cleverness . Connected to their subconscious .
King	Greatness, trustworthy, wise . Inspires excellence in others . Able to make difficult decisions .
Prophet	Spiritual figure who battles falsehoods , t ruth bringer . Full of spiritual virility
Trickster	Mischievous side of the masculine spirit . Often funny, irreverent .

Female Archetypes
Maiden - Mother - Wise Elder	Innocence and purity (Maiden) . Nurturing maternity (Mother) . Wisdom and collected knowledge (Wise Elder) .
The Innocent	The naive, e ternally optimistic, faith based, saint - like .
Neglected / Orphan	A “regular girl,” often working class, desires to belong and be loved . Typically down to earth with solid morals and empathy . Striving to fit in/find her place in the world
Jester	Cheerful, loyal and likable , finding levity and laughter in heavy situations.
Seductress	Uses feminine knowledge and feminine sexuality/sensuality as a tool to achieve a goal . Can be viewed as either a positive or a negative .
Librarian	Seekers of truth and knowledge, self - reflective . Values the intellectual world over the physical world .
Rebel	Often thought of as the “bad girl” or trouble - maker . She is also the one that brings change to a society, for good or for bad . Willing to take risks and stand apart from society .
Nurturer/Creator	Desiring to save, protect and feed . Altruistic, protective and supportive .

Analysis of the archetypes in the

collection of short stories

A RCHETYPAL PLOTS AND THEIR FREQUENCY
A RCHETYPE	FREQUENCY
Facing the Enemy	8
From Rags to Riches	1
The Quest	1
The journey	7
Comedy	-
Tragedy	6
Rebirth	3

A RCHETYPAL PROTAGONISTS AND THEIR FREQUENCY
M ALE A RCHETYPE S	F REQUENCY	F EMALE A RCHETYPES	F REQUENCY
Pilgrim	4	Innocent	6
Warrior	3	Nurturer	2
Lover	2	Rebel	2
Prophet	2	Seductress	1
King	1	Neglected	1
Wildman	1	Lover	1
Patriarch	-	Librarian	1
Healer	-	Jester	-
Magician	-	Maiden - Mother	-
Trickster	-

The Work of a Writer

.

T

he

H

istorical research behind

N

ovels

Differences between

a

novel and

its

film

version

The Girl with a pearl earring:

novel and film script

First

example: The beginning of the story

The man tapped his finger on the table. "Are they laid out in the order

in which they will go into the soup?" he suggested, studying the circle.

"No, sir." I hesitated. I could not say why I had laid out the vegetables

as

I

did.

I

simply

set

them

as

I

fel

t

they

should

be,

but

I

was

too

frightened to say so to a gentleman.

"I see you have separated the whites," he said, indicating the turnips

and

onions.

"And

then

the

orange

and

the

purple,

they

do

not

sit

together. Why is that?" He picked up a shred of cabbage and a piece

of

carrot

and

shook

them

like

dice

in

his

hand.

I lo

oked at my mother, who nodded slightly.

"The colours fight when they are side by side, sir."

He arched his eyebrows, as if he had not expected such a response.

"And do you spend much time setting out the vegetables before you

make the soup?"

"Oh no, sir," I replied, confused. I did not want him to think I was idle.

Second example: Griet’s chores

The room was dark, the shutters closed

—

I could make out only a little

from the cracks of light streaming in between them. The room gave off

a clean, sharp odour of linseed oil that reminded me of my father's

clothes when he had returned from the tile fac

tory at night. It smelled

like wood and fresh

-

cut hay mixed together.

A table had been pushed up against the window on the right, with a

chair set in the corner. The chair's back and seat were of leather tooled

with yellow flowers and leaves. (…)

Something moved in front of me and I froze. The movement stopped.

It was me, reflected in a mirror that hung on the wall between the two

windows.

I

gazed

at

myself.

Although

I

had

an

anxious,

guilty

expression, my face was also bathed in light, making my s

kin glow. I

stared, surprised, then stepped away.

Now that I had a moment, I surveyed the room. It was a large, square

space, not as long as the great hall downstairs. With the windows open

it was bright and airy, with white

-

washed walls, and grey and white

marble tiles on the floor, the darker tiles set

in a pattern of square

crosses. (…)

It was an orderly room, empty of the clutter of everyday life. It felt

different from the rest of the house, almost as if it were in another

house altogether. When the door was closed it would be difficult to

hear

the

shouts

of

the children,

the

jangle

of

Catharina's

keys,

the

sweeping of our brooms.

Third example: the subjective point of view

"Pull your cap back from your face," he said one day.

"Back

from

my

face,

sir?"

I

repeated

dumbly,

and

regretted

it.

He

preferred me not to speak, but to do as he said. If I did speak, I should

say something worth the words.

He did not answer. I pulled the side of my cap that was closest to him

back

from

my

cheek.

The

starched

tip

grazed

my

neck.

"More,"

he

said.

"I

want

to

see

the

line

of

your

cheek."

I hesitated, then pulled it back further. His eyes moved down my cheek.

"Show me your ear."

I did not want to. I had no choice.

I felt under the cap to make sure no hair was loose, tucking a few

strands behind my ear. Then I pulled it back to reveal the lower part of

my ear.

The look on his face was like a sigh, though he did not make a sound. I

caught a noise in my own throat and pushed it down so that it would

not escape.

"Your cap," he said. "Take it off." "No, sir."

"No?"

"Please do not ask me to, sir." I let the cloth of the cap drop so that my

ear and cheek were covered again. I looked at the floor, the grey and

white

tiles

extending

away

from

me,

clean

and

straight.

"You do not want to bare your head?"

"No."

"Yet you do not want to be painted as a maid, with your mop and your

cap,

nor

as

a

lady,

with

satin

and

fur

and

dressed

hair."

I did not answer. I could not show him my hair. I was not the sort of

girl who left her head bare.