I have always thought of subtext as the invisible language of books. It’s there in every story you’ll ever read, and yet . . . it isn’t. Subtext is the things that are implied, the things that are felt, the things left unsaid and intentionally left out that are clearly recognized and understood by both characters and readers. It’s an eye roll, a tense silence, a bit of sarcasm, the rantings of a madman, or a lie. And even if you’re brand new to writing, if you’ve written any fiction at all you’ve probably used subtext in your work.
Subtext is like a secret code in which we impart information without saying a word, or by saying something totally opposite of what we mean. Even children are aware of subtext and learn to read it before they learn to read words. Picture books are filled with subtext, mostly in the illustrations. When a child opens a picture book, what do the bright colors say to him? What do the dark colors tell him? If characters are drawn in a cartoony style, a child can infer that the book will be funny. If the characters are more realistically drawn, they can tell the story will be more serious. A child who can’t read words can look at the two books below and immediately decide which will be the scariest because he can read the subtext - what the cover art is saying.
In novels, however, we don’t have illustrations to work with, so we include subtext in other ways, and we include it to show characterization, to add irony, to make a point, and to stress themes.
A character burps, and two other characters give each other a knowing look. The writer could follow the burp up with some whispered conversation between the two about how rude this kid is, but what’s the point? The knowing glance says it all. Mom tells Suzie, ‘No, you can’t go to the dance. You’re too young.’ Suzie roll hers eyes and stomps away. We can see she’s angry, imagine what she’s thinking, and infer that this is a family where talking back isn’t tolerated. And we learn a bit about each of the characters involved without the author saying it in words.
Sarcasm and lies are another way to add subtext. Two friends are going out on a first date with two guys they just met.
“So how do I look?” Betty asked, standing there in her baggy overalls and brown plaid lumberjack shirt. “Do you think Dan will like it?”
Laurie forced a smile and clutched the pearls hanging over her black cocktail dress. “Yeah,” she said. “He’ll love it. You look great.”
The reader knows Laurie’s remark is a lie and she just wants to spare her friend's feelings. It says something about who Laurie is, as well as her relationship with Betty. Now we’ll throw in some sarcasm.
“So how do I look?” Betty asked, standing there in her baggy overalls and brown plaid lumberjack shirt. “Do you think Dan will like it?”
Laurie smirked and twirled the pearls hanging over her black cocktail dress. “Yeah, if we were going to spend the night slopping the pigs.”
Again, Laurie isn’t saying what she means, but we know she thinks Betty should go and change, and the fact that she can say that to her friend infers a different kind of relationship than the first example, again, without the writer explaining their friendship. And now lets throw in some irony.
“So how do I look?” Betty asked, standing there in her baggy overalls and brown plaid lumberjack shirt. “Do you think Dan will like it?”
Laurie smirked and twirled the pearls hanging over her black cocktail dress. “Yeah, if we were going to spend the night slopping the pigs.”
“But we are. Kind of,” Betty said. “Didn’t Jack tell you? We’re going to the rodeo?”
Subtext can also be used to get the author’s point across, to create 
theme. At the end of Mockingjay, (spoiler coming for those who haven’t gotten around to reading it yet. Skip this paragraph if you care.) Kat has spent three books learning how bad her government is, and in the end, is fighting with rebels to overthrow it. And they do. But that doesn’t end the story, because Kat has also learned things about the people who will run the new government, and in the end, she assassinates the new president. The pull of the bow, the release of the arrow - two small movements - get across the author’s subtext for ‘power corrupts,’ or ‘always question authority,’ or ‘don’t trust the government.’
However you take it (and that’s the beauty of a good book. It can say different things to different people, even things the author never intended) Collins gets her point across with that one action, rather than tacking on a didactic, moralistic ending that says - and this is the lesson, kiddies. She has done it subtly and with finesse through subtext, which also drives home the irony (another spoiler) that all Kat fought for through three books, all the death and suffering, didn’t mean a thing. In the end, they got the same old package with a new wrapping on it.
So the next time you’re reading a novel, take the time to listen for the subtext, or look for it in picture books. What are the author and the characters saying without actually saying it? Learn to pick it out and see how it works for the story you’re reading, then try it in your own work. As you use it more and more, you’ll see your word count suddenly start to go down, (because you’re not saying what you’re saying) and your novel will become sharper, richer, and have much more depth.
3 comments:
Show, don't tell?
Well, that's certainly a by-product, because subtext does tend to show, rather than tell. But showing, instead of telling, doesn't necessarily add any subtext, so they're not quite the same thing.
And we've all heard "Show, don't tell" but it is wonderful to have some very specific examples/explanations to learn from. (We've all heard "don't dangle prepositions, too, but I'm too tired to figure out how to avoid that one.)
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