So, I’m in the midst of teaching my dialogue class for LitReactor, and today’s lecture is all about forms of attribution and how they can manipulate narrative. I thought I’d share the lecture here because I’m a hopeless nerd who wants to infect you all with the contrails of my brain.
To begin the conversation, let’s discuss Sally Rooney’s approach to dialogue in NORMAL PEOPLE (she also uses this approach in her more recent book, BEAUTIFUL WORLD, WHERE ARE YOU). Below, we’ll pick apart the way Rooney breaks the rules of attribution, and see what that buys her, and guess at why she’s not using the traditional tags of attribution in her dialogue.
Marianne answers the door when Connell rings the bell. She’s still wearing her school uniform, but she’s taken off the sweater, so it’s just the blouse and skirt, and she has no shoes on, only tights.
Oh, hey, he says.
Come on in.
She turns and walks down the hall. He follows her, closing the door behind him. Down a few steps in the kitchen, his mother Lorraine is peeling off a pair of rubber gloves. Marianne hops onto the countertop and picks up an open jar of chocolate spread, in which she has left a teaspoon.
Look at all the things Rooney has working in the above passage that speaks to authority. There is action and observation filtered through a close third person narrator, Connell. This is the very beginning of the novel and it sets up what Gordon Lish might call a “line of flight.” The reader sees that Connell is observing Marianne closely. There is a hint that they attend the same school, but it’s not quite confirmed.
Right away there is a conundrum slapped into place. When I first read the chapter, I was confused. This is Marianne’s house, yet it’s Connell’s mum who is peeling off the gloves. Marianne is portrayed as somewhat privileged and aloof. The reader soon finds out that Lorraine works for Marianne’s family as a house maid, but Rooney doesn’t “tell” you that. You read on and piece it together for yourself.
Now, let’s look at the dialogue itself, which is sparse, yet begins to set up the awkward exchanges between these two. His, Oh, hey demonstrates a reluctance to be there. Her, Come on in, is typical of her matter-of-fact personality, we’ll soon find out.
And, why no tags? Here’s the answer, straight from Rooney herself (though I will use them when quoting her, below):
“I can’t remember ever really using quotation marks – I don’t see any need for them, and I don’t understand the function they perform in a novel, marking off some particular pieces of the text as quotations.”
Now that’s authority, because, as we all know, quotation marks help the reader understand the difference between the surrounding narrative and when a character is speaking. That an author waves them off as unnecessary shows that she’s confident in the clarity of the text. Confident that the reader can discern when a character is speaking. It’s not that she’s universally eschewing attribution – she offers the he says after Connell’s dialogue, but leaves it to the reader, through introduction of a new paragraph and context, to understand that Marianne is the one answering with the Come on in.
When the writing is full of authority, when it’s clear who is in the scene and who is saying what, you can dispense with traditional tags/attribution. Take a look at Jhumpa Lahiri’s novel THE LOWLAND. Here’s a snippet of dialog-heavy text:
Then one evening, throwing over the putting iron from inside the club, climbing back over the wall, they noticed that the kerosene tin on the other side was missing.
Someone took it, Udayan said. He started to search. The light was scant.
Is this what you boys are looking for?
It was a policeman, appearing from nowhere, patrolling the area around the club.
They could distinguish his height, his uniform. He was holding the tin.
He took a few steps toward them. Spotting the putting iron on the ground, he picked it up, inspecting it. He set down the tin and switched on a flashlight, focusing its beam on each of their faces, then down the length of their bodies.
Brothers?
Subhash nodded.
What’s in your pockets?
They removed the golf balls and surrendered them. They watched the policeman put them in his own pockets. He kept one out, tossing it into the air and catching it in his hand.
How did you come to acquire these?
They were silent.
Someone invited you today, to play golf at the club?
They shook their heads.
You don’t need me to tell you that these grounds are restricted, the policeman said. He rested the shaft of the putting iron lightly against Subhash’s arm.
Was today your first visit?
No.
Was this your idea? Aren’t you old enough to know better?
It was my idea, Udayan said.
You have a loyal brother, the policeman said to Subhash. Wanting to protect you. Willing to take the blame.
So, you see that Lahiri has a very light touch with attribution and punctuation. She only inserts attribution when it would be unclear who is speaking.
Here’s another way to present dialog. It’s from Chuck Palahniuk’s LULLABY.