Copyright 2018 by Gary L. Pullman
Although
H. G. Wells claimed that the only standard for judging the value of a
short story is whether it has readers, he also suggests, by way of
his literary mentor, Edgar Allan Poe, that a few additional criteria
may be used to assess the quality of such a work of fiction. He
learned from Poe that a short story exists to create a “single
effect.”
Whereas
Poe wrote, in “The Philosophy of Composition,” that a writer,
after “having deliberately conceived a certain single effect
to be wrought, he then invents such incidents . . . combines such
incidents, and discusses them in such a tone as may serve him best in
establishing this preconceived effect,” Wells wrote, in “The
Contemporary Novel,” “a short story is, or should be, a simple
thing; it aims at producing one single, vivid effect; it has to seize
the attention at the outset, and never relaxing, gather it together
more and more until the climax is reached.”
According
to J. R. Hammond, having learned this lesson from Poe, Wells “adhered
to” it “throughout his long career as a practitioner of the short
story” (20).
Based
on Wells' own statements, then, it seems that a short story, which he
suggests can be read in less than an hour, should be judged on the
bases that it:
- Produces an effect that is both “single” and “vivid”;
- Seizes the reader's “attention at the outset”;
- Heightens the reader's attention as the story progresses;
- Attains a “climax”;
- Can be read in an hour or less; and
- Is a work that people want to read.
Hammond
elucidates several of Wells' terms. By “effect,” Wells seems to
have in mind a narrative outcome that is of a specific sort
(“informative, amusing, or terrifying”), “depending on the
particular story” and which is also unquestionably real. In other
words, the story's effect may be cognitive, diverting, or emotional
in nature, relating to epistemology, amusement, or affect (20).
Wells' own short stories, Hammond says, are often of a “disturbing
quality” (20).
As
in Poe's fiction, Wells' short stories are concerned with generating
a “single effect”; all incidents of the plot, like the story's
tone, are intended to produce what Poe calls “the predetermined
effect.” Therefore, of the six elements which Wells suggests are
the bases for the criticism of the short story, that of the effect
seems paramount.
In
writing his stories, Wells developed a formula, or “characteristic
devise,” Hammond observes, for depicting the climax of any of his
stories: “a moment of revelation or discovery in the life of an
otherwise unremarkable individual whose outlook is transformed as a
result,” and “the story focuses on the moment of crisis or climax
and in doing so sets in motion speculations and doubts in the mind of
the reader” concerning what he or she might do in a situation or
set of circumstances similar to that of the story's protagonist (20).
Due to the abbreviated length of the short story, as compared to the
novel, Hammond says, “in place of the leisurely working-out of the
plot through character and incident there is a single moment of
illumination or decision” (20).
Hammond's
elucidations allow the critic, as Wells envisions him or her, to
expand on his or her analysis and evaluation of the story's effect,
the story's climax, and, possibly, the narrative techniques by which
the author motivates people to want to read the story. Therefore, one
who is interested in criticizing a short story by Wells should begin
by isolating its climax, for this is the “characteristic devise”
by which Wells provides the transformational “moment of revelation
or discovery in the life of” his “otherwise unremarkable
individual.”
Then,
if desirable, the critic can contend with the other five elements of
what may be called the Wellsian critical approach: the production of
an effect that is both “single” and “vivid”; the seizing of
the reader's “attention at the outset” of the story; the
heightening of the reader's attention as the story progresses; the
story's length; and the techniques by which the author motivates
people to want to read his or her story. (Part of the heightening of
the reader's interest must surely lie in the ironic juxtaposing of
the life of the “otherwise unremarkable” protagonist's view of
the world “before” the revelation or discovery that shatters his
[all of Wells' protagonists are male] complacency and the
protagonist's view of the world “after” his complacency has been
so shattered.)
Hammond
is helpful, once again, in identifying the climax of Wells' short
story “A Slip Under the Microscope”: The protagonist, a biology
student named Hill, is seeking to “identify a specimen placed on a
glass slide under a microscope.” Students are “strictly forbidden
to move the slide,” but, as Hill adjusts the instrument, he
accidentally slips, moving the slide. No one has seen him do so. Now,
he must decide whether to “own up to the fact” or “remain
silent.” His actions, Hill says, presents a “grotesque puzzle in
ethics” (106).
According
to Hammond, the climax of the story should be the vehicle by which
Wells presents the “moment of revelation or discovery in the life
of” Hill, “an otherwise unremarkable individual whose outlook is
transformed as a result.” If the slip hadn't occurred, Hill would
have continued in ignorance of the significance of “how easily
normal life can be deflected by chance . . . occurrences” (20)
Wells
heightens the reader's interest in the outcome of the story by
relating Hill's ethical dilemma to a personal situation. Hill resents
another student Wedderburn, because Wedderburn, whose parents are
wealthy, has both the means and the confidence that Hill himself
lacks—and because they are both interested in the same coed
classmate. If he does what he believes to be the right thing, he may
be expelled and lose any chance to court the coed.
When
Hill informs the college's authorities, he is, in fact, expelled. He
suspects that Wedderburn, who may also have cheated, chose not to
confess; by not telling the truth, Hill's rival remains in school,
able to woo the coed student whom they both admire. As Hammond points
out, Wells implicitly asks his reader whether any “circumstances”
may warrant one's lying by omission. The narrative, in this way, is,
in effect, “disturbing,” as most of Wells' short stories are.
Hammond,
J. R. H.G. Wells and the Short Story.
Basingstoke, Hampshire: Macmillan, 1992. Print.