Cliffhangers And Why They're Obnoxious

"He released Winston with a little push toward the guards. 'Room 101,' he said." -p. 356

That right there creates suspense. Earlier in the book, O'Brien's liiike, "You know what's in that room. Everyone does." That was a frustrating moment because I thought, "What about meeee, though? I don't know what's in there =|!" As it turns out, he tells us later, and then it's rats, which is dreadfully anticlimactic. (I know it's different for everybody, but still. Even the foreshadowing of that was weak.) Ah, but I digress. My point was that O'Brien finally said he was going to show us Room 101, and the reader's been wondering for a goodly many pages, now, what is in there, and then there's a section break, which is a structural technique of sorts. I don't know why authors do this. I suppose they intend for it to build suspense, but really.... We just have to turn the page. Actually, I just have to move my eyes approximately an inch-and-a-half further down the page. I did feel a little jolt of suspense, there, I guess, but I felt annoyed with myself about it afterward.

It's not like it's a new chapter of fanfiction, and you have to wait another who-knows-how-long to find out what happens next. That's called a cliffhanger, everyone, and I think they more or less died with Charles Dickens in terms of works of literary merit .

Definitely "to." Always "to."

Kinda like Facebook recently, the events of Othello seem to happen, for the most part, in real time. For example, we don't have to wait until later to see Othello's rage in response to the laughter of Iago and Cassio -- "Look how he laughs already!" IV.i.107-- because good ol' Billy Shakes just couldn't wait five minutes to let Othello vent at Iago, so then the reader has to sift through the monstrosity of they're-all-in-the-same-room-but-they-nobody-really-knows-what's-happening. Anyway, the suspense isn't built in the typical way, through building up anticipation and making the audience wonder. There's some of that, of course, like with, y'know, wondering who was going to die and all. Most of the time, though, suspense is built into the moment as a result of Iago's scheming.

Consequently, the audience knows most of what the characters know. Actually, we know considerably more than some of them because of the intriguing twist that the character with the most stage time is the villain, so we're in on his schemes, thanks to all his helpful asides. So... we know what's supposed to happen next, but that doesn't mean some plans don't go awry here an there-- the shenanigans in the brothel, for instance, could have gone more smoothly.

Love: Here We Go Again....

"You writer types," (p. 27) indeed. There are other topics, ladies and gentlemen, and you simply aren't looking hard enough for them.

Anyway, I'm glad I didn't choose the first chapter to talk about narration because it's pulled the old switcheroo on me. Last chapter was narrated in third-person omniscient and set in the middle of the Vietnam War, and this chapter zoomed forward a considerable amount of time and is narrated by a mystery character who refers to himself as "me" and "I," which means... first-person. Therefore... I don't know who this guy is, but the story may or may not be told from his point of view from here on out.

On a different note, "And do me a favor. Don't mention anything about--" (p. 29) is supposed to build suspense. It's not totally ineffective; if I was reading this book out of a desire to read about the Vietnam War, I'd probably be on the edge of my proverbial seat right now.

Edit 08/13/10 5:02 PM: I've read the whole book, and I still don't know what Jimmy Cross didn't want O'Brien to mention. I guess that means he didn't mention it?