Prose and Pronouns

nope, not about gender

There is a debate amongst my colleagues about names versus pronouns. When to use what. Is it stronger to use a character’s name whenever possible, or, sometimes, is the generic she/he/they preferable?

As I’ve preached lately, I’m not an absolutist when it comes to writing and rules. Color me gray. Very gray. And nuanced. (Nuance is a prettier word than gray, on that can we agree?)

When composing your stories on a line level, there are so many considerations. Authority, lyricism, irony, cadence, clarity, tension, pacing, level of reliability, voice. To name a few. When it comes to the decision on name versus pronouns, consider this (hot off the press from today’s WIP session):

“Sorry,” said the graveyard shift non-emergency policeman. “Wish I could help—but there’s been a rash of these sorts of things in the city, and we’re understaffed.”

“Thanks for absolutely nothing,” Helena said, wishing for a slamming-down-the-phone sound when she disconnected. It was a hopeless hall of mirrors, and the only way to get any modicum of satisfaction was in calling a tow truck to haul away not only her car, but the offender’s vehicle as well.

Her next call was to her car insurance, where she discovered that her policy didn’t include collision. She’d banished any extras from her monthly expenses in the winter. What had she been thinking? Well, she hadn’t. She’d simply been reacting. Slashing this and that as if they were tires on her now broken automobile.

As she watched her car being dragged out of the parking lot, Helena calculated the likely expenses ahead, along with logistical scenarios. She still had a few hundred dollars credit on a card; she could possibly engage her one school acquaintance to ferry Burkleigh back and forth; the zoom call was mid-day, and then she’d need to take care of some tenant issues in between.

Back in her privileged teen days, she’d never understood poverty and why some of the scholarship kids in her prep school kept fucking up. Unexcused absences, dirty uniforms, the one time a girl bled through her pants because she claimed not to have money for tampons or pads.

Now she knew. She knew how quickly a person’s life could unravel when there wasn’t a safety net. She knew the disappointment of auditing pockets and cushions for coins and coming up empty. She knew the embarrassment of having to ask someone she barely knew for a school drop-off favor and the soul-crushing reality that there would be no money for a mother-daughter brunch—even at fucking McDonalds.

Since this is 100 or so pages in, I apologize for not offering context, but looking at this excerpt from a strictly line-level view, note the underlined references to a character. This is third-person, obviously, but had it been in the first person, I would likely have altered the syntax to avoid all the “I” in the passage.

There are three instances of character names, and the positioning was made mostly for their impact on clarity and lyricism. In the last paragraph, I used repetition purposely (she; knew) for emphasis. To draw the reader’s attention to the emotional impact for the main character (wee background: Helena finds herself poor for the first time in her life). The references to non-named characters (the graveyard shift non-emergency policeman; offender’s; acquaintance; scholarship kids; a girl; a person’s; someone), are generic in that they are background (or downstage, as one teacher I had termed people who are more like props).

But, psychologically, what is the impact of using pronouns in place of names? Some say it weakens the character’s impact to relegate them to the generic. I argue that, in some cases, it actually increases the intimacy by using a shorthand, in much the same way most languages have formal and informal ways to address people (Hello versus Hi, for example). Had I used Helena instead of she more often, the mind’s eye (and brain) shifts to a more formal stance. Think about it. I’ve always wondered about married folks who offer “she/he” instead of their spouses names when relating an anecdote. It takes for granted that the recipient of the information knows who the person is speaking of. A shorthand.

Anyway, that’s my soapbox for today. Your thoughts?