The Plausible in Literature
Some time ago a well-known New York editor wrote: "I find it important to keep in mind when writing short-stories that plausibility is the primary thing."
That this opinion is commonly held by editors, an observing person can not dispute. It is the criterion by which all articles are judged. "Is it plausible?" "How does it sound?" "How will it strike the public ear?" These and questions of kindred sentiment are the ones asked by editors in reviewing all articles intended for publication.
Derived from the word plaudo, to clap, the root signification gives it the right to become the editor's criterion. For who is there upon whom the applause of the public falls with greater effect than the one who earns his living thereby? The writer, too, not less than the editor, should study for the fine effect of the plausible.
In looking over the work of those who have this quality there are found two divisions, or rather two phases of the same quality: one appearing in the style or manner of writing, and the other in the sentiments expressed.
Of the plausible style, the frequent use of idiomatic and homelike expressions may be stated as the chief characteristic. It might almost be termed the colloquial style, because of its easy adaptation to an ordinary conversation. It is an easy running vehicle and seldom geared to a lofty sentiment. The plausible style, though appealing to the ear in one way, may not be convincing in another. If the sound of words and phrases flowing in rhythmic cadence, or well-directed idioms, alone was sufficient, the plausible in literature would become a juggler's trick. It is something more, something very much more; a deeper something that appeals to the heart; and though this appeal may come through the senses,yet it is more than these that are concerned in the awakening that the truly plausible can give to the emotional nature.
There is, however, a wide difference between this element and that of the "probable." Plausible appeals to the ear, from "plaudo," to clap, probable to the reason, from a word meaning to prove. Plausible is believed by the hearing, generally at once; probable, only by weighing, comparison, reflection. The sound of hens' singing and cackling as suggesting many eggs is plausible; but the number gathered one day as an index for that of the previous or following would be a probable conclusion.
Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" was, in point of fact, even as an allegory highly improbable, yet as a matter of sentiment it was so truly inwoven with the web and woof of human experience that it was plausible; it caught the plaudits of the people and has held them for many, many years.
There seems an element in the psychic nature of man that craves a variation of the truth as it actually is, to the truth as it actually is not—but most certainly seems to be. "Gulliver's Travels," "King Solomon's Mines," "She," and later, Wells' story of the "Food of the Gods,"—all are ruled out from the realm of mind, hardly to be accepted because of unusually fine description or of brilliance of thought, wit or humor— nothing, in fact, to commend them but that their contradictions of fact and human experience are bound together by a splendid thread so supernaturally strong as to hold the reason, judgment, almost the memory, in subjection.
To deduce rules from the writings of others on the plausible style is easier than to get at the basic principles of the plausible sentiment. In the one case you have the eye as well as the ear to aid you in the search for the means whereby a certain effect was produced; but in the other there is a deep psychological analysis. You have, indeed, to search into the almost inscrutable workings of human emotions to find the key to the plausible in sentiment. It is a work for master minds to do to determine why one thing pleases and another does not.
There are, however, some evidences of the postulates upon which the element of plausibility is placed. These must be shown by comparison first. The highly imaginative works of Haggard are quite different in essence from those of Jules Verne. In the one case, as in "She," we have an impossible postulate followed out with all the regularity of demonstration of a regular and valid theorem. In "Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea," on the other hand, there is a possible— and what has since been shown to be a practicable—though very unusual hypothesis worked out in goodly manner and with considerable detail.
In these two there is shown the essential difference between the plausible and the probable; the former starting with an impossibility and working upon the same lines of demonstration as the latter starting on a possibility. It is not necessary, though, that a plausible story should start in with an impossibility, but if it does it should be carried out with the same show of good faith as if based upon a veritable fact.
The plausible story must rest more upon the experiences of people themselves, what they have felt in themselves or expressly observed and closely sympathized with in others. It can not produce an effect in the mind of the reading public without making every part closely connected; the narrative rather predominating; and all phases of description appealing strongly to both eye and ear; the characters human; and above all, the emotions that are called out must be those within the ken of average men. They can not be exaggerated by description, not even by indication of effect—they must be under rather than over the metes and bound of the occasion calling them out. And to be increased in effect there must be a heightened "tone coloring" all along the lines until their assumption is fully justified and the occasion for their use really made plain. One can not be flighty in emotion and be plausible ; for the plausible in literature rests upon a real responsible part of human nature.