Wednesday, 20 June 2007

Chase Scene


Wanna look at a Pullman chase scene with me?
Sure you do :o)

Here's a tiny wee extract from The Subtle Knife. Lyra is running from a mysterious pale-haired man. With her is Pantalaimon (her soul represented in morphable animal form):

---
Across the road, ignoring the cars, the brakes, the squeal of tyres; into this gap between tall buildings, and then another road, with cars from both directions, but she was quick, dodging bicycles, always with the pale-haired man just behind her - oh, he was frightening!
Into a garden - over a fence - through some bushes - Pantalaimon skimming overhead, a swift, calling to her which way to go; crouching down behind a coal-bunker as the pale man's footsteps came racing past, and she couldn't hear him panting, he was so fast, and so fit; and Pantalaimon said, 'Back now - go back to the road -'
---

If we take a gander at Holly Lisle's four top tips for speeding up a scene, we can get an idea of how Pullman has constructed this passage:

1) Limit extraneous information: 'Concentrate on the main characters, their movements, their five senses, and their emotions.'
Sure enough, we don't know what make of cars these are, or what colour the bicycles are, or how many lumps of coal are in the coal-bunker, or what floral arrangements might adorn the garden, and we certainly don't have mention of a sunset. We hear the cars, the brakes and tyres, and the man's footsteps.
The pov is limited to Lyra (and don't forget that Pantalaimon's pov is an extension of Lyra's).
Her pov is narrow, focused on her escape and the immediate terrain that might conceal her. She has no thoughts for what she might eat for dinner, or of some embarrassing incident that occurred five years ago. Focused; tight and close ...

2) Pull your camera in close: 'Let us taste the blood at the corner of the lip, feel the pain of the broken bone, hear the whistling of the blade, smell sweat, see eyes wide with shock, the beads of sweat on upper lips. Sense details create a sense of immediacy and urgency, and make a scene feel faster.'
See how Pullman ties us to Lyra and shows only her immediate surroundings. The vehicles are conveyed fleetingly with limited description such that they become blurs. Similarly, she runs into a garden - over a fence - through some bushes: a giddying flight in which we can feel the leaves scratching her skin. And the man is so close that she can hear he isn't panting.

3) Keep sentences short and clean: 'There are times and places for the hundred word sentence, but the fast-paced action scene is not one of them.'
Clean, yes. But short?
My dear Holly, here I beg to differ, as does Mr. Pullman.
When I read a full-stop, I take a pause - sure, it is a minute pause, but it is enough to interrupt the flow.
I read commas and semi-colons as lesser pauses.
To mimick the pace, the pulse if you prefer, Pullman deprives us of breaths.
There is no sign of a full-stop in this line. Try reading it out loud:
Across the road, ignoring the cars, the brakes, the squeal of tyres; into this gap between tall buildings, and then another road, with cars from both directions, but she was quick, dodging bicycles, always with the pale-haired man just behind her - oh, he was frightening!
Note too how Pullman eases in the conjunctions (and and since and but, etc.), limiting the word count, maintaining a swift pace by thrusting the barest bones of information at us in the shortest time.
Short and stubby sentences punctuated with full-stops have their place. I use them to create a disjointed feel; in my new opening, I use them to convey Penpa's confusion as she sits up having been hurled on the wave of an explosion, something like:
Her right boot was missing. Her stockings were torn at the knees. She looked for her boot.
I really can't see this approach working to generate speed at all.

4) Be short, sharp, hard-edged: 'Use fragments (sparingly). Kill adjectives and adverbs -- be ruthless. You don't need many, and may not need any. Find good verbs and nouns, and let the scene run with them.'
Sure enough, I can't find an adverb in there, and there are scant few adjectives; the adjectives Pullman uses are relevant to Lyra's escape and to the threat and her desire to conceal herself in this unfamiliar environment (the buildings are 'tall').
Check out the power words; see how they mirror the action and the pace - Lyra's nerves and her pulse:
Squeal, quick, dodging, frightening, skimming, swift (Pullman pulled a stroke of genius when he invented the animal daemons: his choice of animal enhances each mood), racing, fast.

If I get the opportunity, I'd like to examine how Pullman handles a fight scene. You may be surprised at the differences between his chase scenes and his fight scenes.

The image above is of Franz von Stuck's Wild Chase.

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