THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc. DATE: Saturday, May 27, 1995 TAG: 9505260010 SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A13 EDITION: FINAL TYPE: Opinion SOURCE: George Hebert LENGTH: Medium: 54 lines
People who write may credit their readers with better memories than those readers have. Especially, in my experience, when it comes to names.
In a magazine or newspaper account of some event, or in a book, perhaps even in a crackling whodunnit, I'll be nipping merrily along, keeping pretty good track of everything. There are Joneses and I have them and their place in the story pretty straight; same with a couple of Smiths and their in-laws, the Does and Stags; there are Detective Keen and Sergeant Bright. All neatly slotted in my mental file.
Then, miles into the narration, up pops Doakes. Where Doakes figured earlier in the story, I haven't the foggiest. All I know for sure is that he is giving me some important information and I better solve the riddle.
With much combing of material I thought I had already read carefully, I usually find to my chagrin that Joe Doakes had showed up, and and had been identified - but fleetingly - in paragraph three. Presumably, other things had blotted this from my mind.
So, how wonderful it would be if writers and editors took a few extra pains for memory-lame people like me and re-identified story participants after any long stretch of non-mention.
There is another vexation in this same general area - names in confusing profusion - names that just swarm out of the pages, particularly in the beginning of some narration (say, a detailed, moment-by-moment account of a Civil War battle).
Almost immediately I may find it's much too much merely to remember who's who. And I'll find it even harder to keep all the members of the milling mob of characters properly assigned: Who's on which side (in the Civil War situation); who're the good guys, the bad guys; who's in which family or faction; who's against whom.
Sometimes I'm in the last chapter before I get all the people sorted out - or maybe not even then.
I realize the very best writers have developed artful ways to avoid reader befuddlement when story participants seem to become little armies of blurred names. But recently it came to me that perhaps modern graphic and typographical techniques might help.
Each time a name appears, why not print it over a little bar of red or orange or green or blue or some such, with each hue identifying a family or other alignment in the story? Varying schemes for the tinted names could be worked out in the beginning, and readers should catch on pretty fast.
In short, why not color-code 'em? MEMO: Mr. Hebert is a former editor of The Ledger-Star. by CNB