Discussion
When Sam Clemens was 23 years old, he was a cub pilot on a
riverboat, a month away from receiving his steamboat pilot’s
license. He would return to writing and create the pen name
“Mark Twain” in February 1863, but for now he was a guy on a
boat.
Then he got off the boat. And stepped into New Orleans on Mardi
Gras day, Tuesday, March 9, 1859. The letter he wrote his sister
Pam wasn’t meant for publication; instead, it was his personal
narrative of his adventure at Mardi Gras. It wasn’t published
until 1988 with the rest of his preserved letters.
There are two things that make this letter special:
- It is an early glimpse into the writing style of one of the world’s great writers. He wasn’t yet a world-famous celebrity, but he clearly already has his voice.
- Our world-famous author-to-be is by coincidence on hand for
a critical moment in the history of Mardi Gras. So we have a
first-hand account by an keen observer of the third Mardi Gras
parade of the Mystic Krewe of Comus, the people who created
the Mardi Gras parade. If you’ve been to Mardi Gras yourself,
you’ll notice how much of current Mardi Gras tradition was
already in place.
This letter amounts to a rough draft of a narrative essay. It
was Clemens’ first impression of his experience. The letter is
full of scratch-outs and corrections he made as he wrote. But
it’s still a remarkable essay. The introduction is perfect. A
narrative doesn’t have to have a thesis, but this one does: “I
think that I may say that an American has not seen the United
States until he has seen Mardi-Gras in New Orleans.”
The body really focuses on his experience on the day of Mardi Gras. What he does NOT do that frequently happens in these essays is give a superficial summary of the whole trip.
That kind of writing lacks focus. Because you’re trying to deal
with each aspect of the event, you don’t have the space to go
into much detail about any specific part. Clemens focuses on two
events from the day: his first entrance into the city and
realization that it was Mardi Gras day, and his attendance at
the third Mystic Krewe of Comus parade. In a polished essay,
we’d expect a paragraph break when he moves from the daytime
events to the night parade. We’d also expect him to leave off
the events of the next day, which are after Mardi Gras and
really don’t relate to his topic.
One of the rules of writing descriptions and narration is to
“show, not tell.”
- When you tell rather than show, you simply inform your
reader of information rather than allowing him to deduce
anything. You’re supplying information by simply stating it.
You might report that a character is “tall,” or “angry,” or
“cold,” or “tired.” That’s telling.
- Showing would paint a picture the reader could see in her
mind’s eye. If your character is tall, your reader can deduce
that because you mention others looking up when they talk with
him. Or he has to duck to get through a door. Or when posing
for a photo, he has to bend his knees to keep his head in
proximity of others. Rather than telling that your character
is angry, show it by describing his face flushing, his throat
tightening, his voice rising, his slamming a fist on the
table. When you show, you don’t have to tell. Cold? Don’t tell
me; show me. Your character pulls her collar up, tightens her
scarf, shoves her hands deep into her pockets, turns her face
away from the biting wind. (Terry
Jenkins)
Clemens doesn’t tell us that Mardi Gras is exciting: he shows us with his detailed description
Clemens has done just what we did in the “My Room” and “My
Sister” exercises. He looked around and made a list: Invention.
He now has put the details in a logical order that we can
recognize: Arrangement. His method of arrangement was to
describe the parade in chronological order, starting with the
beginning of the parade and describing it in sequence. There are
many other ways of arranging the facts, as we saw in the “My
Sister” exercises. The only difference is that the Style Clemens
does it with is much better than the rest of us.