The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants: Writing Multiple Storylines.

Ann Brashares, author of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series, uses multiple storylines in her young adult novels. The Traveling Pants books switch perspectives between the four main characters - Tibby, Lena, Bridget, and Carmen - in short two to three page sections. Generally, each chapter focuses on two “sisters” switching between their storylines. But Brashares also includes about one or two sections from the other two girls who the chapter does not focus on. This means that the reader does not forget or get too involved in the other characters.

Often when stories are told using multiple storylines readers can become attached to one character and dislike the others so they start skipping parts of the story and jumping ahead to the character that they like reading. Even when there is only a slight preference for one character, reading the other character’s stories becomes a chore because it does not provide the same enjoyment as reading the other sections. This is a problem and a challenge for the author. For advice about writing multiple storylines to create suspense in genres such as thriller, crime or mystery look at this blog post .

However, using multiple storylines when the storyline in character driven and not driven by theme. Multiple storylines where the reader does not have a preference for a particular character are really difficult to write and I would argue that in the Travelling Pants series Brashares has done this. I think the factors that contribute to this are numerous. Having short snippets from each characters perspective is good because it does not allow the reader to become too attached to a character for too long a period of time. This is also helped by having soap-operaish storylines for each character so that the reader actually wants to continue reading to find out the latest installment.

Brashares maintains the same voice and style throughout the novels, no matter which character is speaking. This continuity enables the reader’s ease in switching between different storylines. I think another big part of this, is the character’s likeability. All the girls personalities are type-cast and fairly rigid, but they are also non-descript in that they are equally as likeable and as unlikeable as each other. One thing I have always found fascinating about this series is how the girls like each other equally despite being so different. From an astrological point of view, I have always thought of them as elemental characters; Tibby is earth because she doesn’t like change; Carmen is fire because she is passionate and firey; Lena is water because she is a romantic and emotional; and Bridget is air because she is detached and unemotional. This makes the fact that they get on so well with each other intriguing.

Another thing I like about Brashares is that she doesn’t use the technique of multiple storylines primarily to switch perspectives on the same situation and continually rehash what the reader already knows. In one sense I think this technique is a cop-out, much like the surprise ending, it allows the author to capitalize on the readers surprise and humor if there are contrasting views about the storyline. It shifts the reader’s attention from the essence of the storyline. Brashares effectively uses multiple storylines to connect the four main characters so that they appear as a cohesive sisterhood.

Using Translation.

All languages have particular rhythms, accents, and ways to structure sentences. Often when reading texts that have been translated into English, it is possible to tell whether a text is a translation without knowing anything about the author or the background of the text. This is due to the writing being not quite fluid.
For example, this is an abstract from The Lover by the French author Marguerite Duras, translated into English by Barbara Bray:

We go back to the apartment. We are lovers. We can’t stop loving each other.

This is poetic prose. There is rhyme between ‘lovers’ and ‘other’ however the lack of flow and disjointedness makes it seem like there is something missing. There is a sense of absence in these words that comes from how the sentences sound. Maybe if it had been written first in English it might sound something like this:
We go back to his apartment because we are lovers. No matter how hard I try, we can’t stop loving each other.

I think there are three main factors that contribute to differentiating a translation from something written in English to begin with, none of which are entirely tangible. The first is the rhythm of the words. The second is the somewhat opaque feeling of telling and not showing. And finally, the third is a feeling of absence the text generates, as if the reader is disconnected from the text and looking at it from an outsider’s perspective. This combination of all three creates an aura of dissonance- of something being slightly odd or unnaturalised about the rhythms, sounds, and words used. These three factors are mainly what I try to imitate if I want to use “translation” or “faux-translation” in my work.

The first factor I referred to (rhythm) makes the texts feel sparse and pared down. The story feels spacious because the rhythm is suppressed or deadened. When written firstly in English, most sentences naturally have a beat/off-beat rhythm that is acquired effortlessly when speaking English fluently. In a translation, rhythm is often secondary (unless it is poetry) as translators are firstly concerned with conveying meaning accurately.

The second factor I have noticed in translation is contrary to the advice of first year creative writing lecturers- to show and not tell. Translations often tell and don’t show. They have an explicitness in their sentences and a focus on conveying tangible messages. This factor and rhythm informs the third factor of translations I mentioned-a sense of absence.

A sense of absence is created be sparse sentences and a suppressed rhythm. Although telling without showing expresses clarity (eg. Rudolph is angry. Her bedroom smelt strange.) I would argue it evokes a sense of absence because it is not descriptive. There are many things that are left out.

When writing, sometimes I use these ideas about translation in my work. All three of these elements, if used well can be effective and liberating in helping you find a different voice, bring a sense of absence to your work, and write using different styles.

Translation vs Romanticisation of the original.

In one of my classes at Uni, my James Joyce obsessed poetry lecturer commented enthusiastically on an English translation of a Russian poem by saying that if the language was this beautiful after it had been translated, what would it have been like before translation.

For some time I have been interested in the concept of translation. In particular, texts that have been translated into English after being written in a language other than English. I only speak and understand English, so I can only look at this from an Anglo-centric perspective with the limitations (but I would also argue benefits) of having a singular and unchallenged view of the English language. I only understand the text as a product in itself and not as a variation of the original.

My problems with my poetry lectures assertion is the fetishisation of the original, particularly from the perspective that English is not as beautiful as other languages because it is not a Romantic language.

If you can’t read the original, no matter how highly praised or celebrated it is, it means nothing to you. If the text is inaccessible to you, than it is worthless. How can you comment that a poem would be more beautiful in the language it was first written in if you can’t read that language. It doesn’t matter how beautiful it supposedly is if you can’t read and understand it.

A translation should be viewed as a cohesive product in itself as it is problematic to perceive translations as being inferior simply by default. There are several different methods of translation. Poetry, in particular, is not translated word for word, but by imagery and meanings. There are many elements of poetry, like rhythm and rhyme that would get lost in translation if the translator didn’t take into account these elements and try to replicate their essence when remaking the text into their own language.

Essentially a translation is a completely new text. It should only be praised if it is a good text in itself and not as being a complimentary or referential text to the original. My poetry lecturer’s inference that the original text is automatically superior is simplistic and completely devalues the role a translator plays and the ability for a translated work to have merit in its own right.