VAKKI appraisal and journalistic discourse analysis workshop - 2009
Extension Reading 2.
Story telling, media genres
and English-language news
Introduction
In the previous set of notes we briefly compared English-language news reporting
from the past and the present. Specifically we considered some of the differences
between these two following reports of a ‘mêlée’, the first from a recent edition of the
New York Post, the second a report from the Sydney Gazette of 1831 (repeated here
for your convenience).
LADY WRESTLER BITES: COP
By LARRY CELONA, WILLIAM J. GORTA and BILL HOFFMANN
NICOLE'S WWF
SNACK-DOWN?
Female wrestler Nicole
Bass was arrested over
the weekend following
a brawl in Little Italy.
Photo by: Dave
Allocca/DMI
Strapping lady wrestler Nicole Bass was down for the count and
behind bars last night after pulling a Mike Tyson and biting a cop
during a wild melee in Little Italy, police said.
The world-champion bodybuilder, who is 6-foot-2 and weighs 230
pounds, was charged with assault for allegedly sinking her teeth into
the thumb of Police Officer James Secreto.
"The officer was trying to break up a fight between Nicole and
another party, and she went berserk and chomped down on his hand,"
one law enforcement source said.
"Maybe Tyson can get away with it in the ring, like he did with
[Evander] Holyfield's ear, but you don't do that to a New York City
cop."
Two years ago, the amazon athlete made headlines when she agreed
to take a DNA test after shock jock Howard Stern questioned
whether she was a woman. The test proved she was.
The bizarre bust-up in Lower Manhattan unfolded at 10:30 p.m.
Saturday at the annual San Gennaro Festival.
Police said Bass, 36, her husband, Robert Fuchs, 52, two friends and
one of their kids were walking at Mulberry and Kenmare streets
when a man accidentally bumped into the child.
A heated argument broke out and erupted into a shoving match.
Secreto noticed the fight at the packed intersection and rushed to
break it up.
That's when, cops say, Nicole made like a shark and bit down on
Secreto's thumb.
If convicted of second- and third-degree assault, the outspoken
ironwoman, who lives in Middle Village, Queens, could go to prison
for up to three years.
Also arrested and charged with third-degree assault were her husband
and a relative, Jennifer Fuchs, 31, of Middle Village; John Rut, 30, of
Massapequa, L.I.; and Alexander Ronaye, 21, of Queens.
Wrestling fans were split on Bass' arrest.
"It's typical. It would be just like her," Natasha Rodriguez, 14, of
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 1
Manhattan said at the WWF Cafe in Times Square.
But John Martino, 21, of Locust Valley, L.I., insisted: "She's a good
wrestler and a very nice person."
(New York Post - September 18, 2000)
Incident in St George St.
On Tuesday evening, about the hour of eight o'clock, a puncheon of rum in
the bonded store at the back of the Gazette Office burst, and the intoxicating
stream found its way through the drain into St. George street, the
invigorating cry of 'grog ahoy' was immediately raised, and pots, pans and
buckets were put into instant requisition for saving the precious liquid, which
by this time had obtained the consistency of pea soup; some who had not the
convenience of utensils stretched themselves on mother earth and lapped up
the beverage, until they became incapable of rising; others were staggering
off in various directions scarcely capable of maintaining their equilibrium,
and even a batch of children were seen quaffing the beverage with much
gout. A bacchanalian scene ensued, and the conservators of the peace were
required to put it down. (The Sydney Gazette, 1831)
As already noted in the previous notes, the two items represent significantly different
approaches to news reporting. This is not just a matter of the vocabulary and
phraseology employed (i.e. we would not expect to read of ‘puncheons of rum’, the
‘quaffing of beverage’ or ‘bacchanalian scenes’ in a modern print news report), but,
more importantly, for our current concerns, a matter of how information is organised
and sequenced. It’s a matter of the way the two writers, separated by some 170 years
of journalistic practice, go about telling their story. The difference points us to the
primary focus of this chapter, the nature of contemporary English-language media
story telling. Our purpose is to better understand the communicative potential of the
types of structures which were outlined in the earlier set of notes when I described the
typical textual organisation of the modern, English-language event-based hard-news
report – namely a non-chronological arrangement by which a textual nucleus
(headline plus lead) dominates a set of supporting satellites. I want, in these notes, to
consider what might be at stake communicatively in this shift from the old
chronologically sequenced style to the modern lead-dominated, orbital arrangement.
Where, as a result of this newer approach to the organisation of information, does the
typical modern English-language news item fit with respect to other types of story
telling? Indeed, does the modern news item even merit the label ‘story’. And what of
that other key type of news reporting, so called ‘soft’ or ‘human interest’ reporting? Is
it more or less story-like than the types of hard news items we have been working
with the this point?
In order to attempt to address such issues, it is necessary firstly to step back from any
direct examination of the news report to consider some broader issues relating to what
is known within language studies and linguistics as ‘genre analysis’. Here we are
concerned with investigations of the ways in which texts of various types come to be
structured in any given society. That is to say, under ‘genre analysis’ we are
concerned with the fact that societies tend to develop certain conventionalised ways
for the structuring of given text types. Thus, for example, in English-language
Western cultures there are standardised ways by which, for example, job application
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 2
letters are constructed, or academic essays, or weather reports, or children’s fairy
stories, or, as we have seen, hard-news reports. Under a ‘genre analysis’ we seek to
identify and describe these various ‘standardised’ or ‘conventionalised’ patterns of
textual organisation. Once we have looked more broadly at this issue of ‘genre’, we
will be in a better position to understand what is at stake in the text organisational
tendencies that can be observed in news reporting texts.
A brief introduction to the idea of
genre
By the term 'genre' we refer to the various different text types which operate in any
culture. By means of these different text types members of a society are able to use
language to achieve particular communicative objectives or to engage in particular
social processes. Thus we might identify genres associated with, for example,
 a particular type of essay writing in the humanities (where, for example, we open
the essay by presenting our central hypothesis or argument, we then provide
supporting evidence and argumentation, and then finish up by restating, in
stronger terms, our opening hypothesis)
 a particular type of news story (where, for example, the opening headline/lead
provides a summary of the key elements of the event and the rest of the text acts
to elaborate this opening information)
a particular type of scientific encyclopaedia entry (where, for example, the text
provides an account of the component parts and key behaviours of an insect or
other animal so as to locate it in a broader scientific taxonomy)
In other contexts, the term ‘genre’ is sometimes used somewhat differently and more
broadly to refer to very general categories of literature or film (i.e. tragedy, comedy,
romance, thriller, science fiction, crime etc). Within linguistics/language studies, we
use the term more precisely to refer to different text types, where types are identified
according to the social and communicative purposes they serve and according to the
way in which the text is staged. Under this approach, we are concerned with
establishing explicit criteria for determining the type or ‘genre of a given text’.
As a way into this type of genre theory, we can begin by considering how texts can be
grouped according to their primary communicative purposes. There is, in fact, a longstanding tradition in language studies of categorising genres in this way. (See, for
example Adam 1992 or Kinneavy 1971) Thus we might start to group texts into
genre categories according to whether their central purpose is to persuade, to explain,
to describe, to narrate, to regulate and so on. Thus a typical humanities essay might be
located within the genre category of 'persuasion' and a typical scientific encyclopaedia
entry within the category of 'description' or 'report'. Such an approach, however, can
take us only so far because in the case of stories, for example, it is almost impossible,
in simple terms, to establish the text's purpose. (Is the purpose of story-telling texts to
entertain, to inform, to instil key social values, to preserve traditional beliefs, and so
on?) In other instances, we might want to identify multiple communicative purposes
operating in a single text. Thus, while one purpose of a humanities essay might be to
argue a case, we might also see it as the means by which students demonstrate to the
marker their knowledge of the field of study or their fluency with its writing style.
Accordingly, although we may take communicative purpose into consideration when
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 3
analysing genre, we must also address rather more concrete aspects of language use
and textual organisation.
Central to genre theory is the insight that our culture provides us with ready-made,
conventionalised frameworks for using language to interact with others, to get things
done, to form alliances and friendships, to establish our identity and to pass on
information. These conventionalised frameworks are what, in this current context, we
term text-type genres. Imagine, for example, that you are waiting at the airport
because of a delayed flight. You have been sitting next to the same person for half an
hour. This person is waiting for the same flight. You have never met the person
before, but you start up a conversation. Now, while some variation is possible, we
can nevertheless make reasonably reliable predictions about how, in general terms,
the conversation will unfold – that is, how it might begin and how it might develop.
We would expect to begin, for example, with some relatively impersonal comments
about the weather or about the unreliability of airlines or about the unpleasantness of
airport waiting lounges. We wouldn't expect to begin with a directly personal
questions such as 'Are you married?' or 'Do you have any children?' or even 'What do
you do?'. It's also unlikely that we would begin by asking for the other person's name.
It is only after we had established the conversation that we might move on to more
personal matters by, for example, asking the other person about where they're
travelling from or to, or about the purpose of their trip. Then, it is only after the
conversation is well and truly established the we might ask the other person their
name and get on to specific personal details.
Thus, in a given social situation, there are certain conventions which determine what
we can say and in what order, if we want to achieve our communicative objectives
and if we don't want to come across as strange, mad or possibly dangerous. That is to
say, there is an established genre (or range of genres) which determines how we
structure and stage our language so as to engage in a given social process. These
conventions are, of course, socially determined and hence may change over time and
may vary across different social groupings and different cultures.
Let's look at how our awareness of how genre operates in a more academic context –
that of essay writing. Consider the following,
I think the Canterbury Council should construct more Activity Centres in
most local areas.
During the school holidays, many children who don't have much on their
minds can attend their local Activity Centre. It will keep them busy and they
can also learn to do lots of different things.
Another reason is children can encourage others to attend the local Activity
Centre. This way children will not get so bored because they can have lots of
fun. It will keep them busy and they can also learn to do lots of different
things.
Moreover, it could stop children from vandalising others' property, because
they have better things to do like going to the Activity Centre and having fun
and enjoying themselves.
The text is based on a essay by an upper primary school student who was taking part
in a literacy development program in Australia. Now, we can see in general terms that
this text would fit into the broad genre category of 'argumentation' or 'persuasion'. But
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 4
as it stands (in its currently altered state), the text seems to be lacking something. It
doesn't contain all the elements which we might expect to find in more effective
argument texts. Let's take a look at how the text is currently structured – that is to say,
let's look at the generic framework by which it is organised. Well, the text begins
conventionally enough with a statement of a central proposition or argument - that the
local council 'should construct more Activity Centres'. The argument is then
developed by the addition of supporting evidence and reasoning. In these elements the
text follows conventional practice. It departs from established argumentation practice
by its omission of two key stages or element. Perhaps most notably, it does not
provide a restatement of the initial proposition by way of conclusion or closure. Such
a stage is a typical component of argument texts in our culture. Once we include such
a stage (as the young writer did in her original version), we have a text which
conforms more closely to established practice.
I think the Canterbury Council should construct more Activity Centres in
most local areas.
Firstly, children can keep busy as well as have fun in the holidays. Secondly,
they learn a lot about how to do certain things. Finally, it might stop children
vandalising properties that don't belong to them because they can go to the
Activity Centres.
During the school holidays, many children who don't have much on their
minds can attend their local Activity Centre. It will keep them busy and they
can also learn to do lots of different things.
Another reason is children can encourage others to attend the local Activity
Centre. This way children will not get so bored because they can have lots of
fun. It will keep them busy and they can also learn to do lots of different
things. Moreover, it could stop children from vandalising others' property,
because they have better things to do like going to the Activity Centre and
having fun and enjoying themselves.
[Concluding stage reiterating opening argument]
These are the main reasons why I think we should have more Activity
Centres. It will be very educational and a very good experience for lots
of children.
With this change, we may feel the text functions more effectively. We may feel that
by conforming more closely to the established genre framework and accordingly the
text is better able to argue its case. We can go one step further and add yet another
stage (as the young writer originally did).
I think the Canterbury Council should construct more Activity Centres in
most local areas.
[Preview stage: providing an overview of the supporting reasoning and
evidence which is to follow]
Firstly, children can keep busy as well as have fun in the holidays.
Secondly, they learn a lot about how to do certain things. Finally, it
might stop children vandalising properties that don't belong to them
because they can go to the Activity Centres.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 5
During the school holidays, many children who don't have much on their
minds can attend their local Activity Centre. It will keep them busy and they
can also learn to do lots of different things.
Another reason is children can encourage others to attend the local Activity
Centre. This way children will not get so bored because they can have lots of
fun. It will keep them busy and they can also learn to do lots of different
things. Moreover, it could stop children from vandalising others' property,
because they have better things to do like going to the Activity Centre and
having fun and enjoying themselves.
[Concluding stage reiterating opening argument]
These are the main reasons why I think we should have more Activity
Centres. It will be very educational and a very good experience for lots
of children.
Now the text conforms even more closely to the conventions of argumentation as they
operate in our culture. The conventions of this genre staging can be summarised as,
1. The text begins with the presentation of the Thesis, the stage which sets out the
primary argument or position of the text
2. That Thesis must contain what can be termed the Position – the primary claim,
argument or finding to be advanced by the text
3. In some cases, that Thesis will also include a Preview stage which summarises the
supporting evidence and subsidiary argumentation which is to follow.
4. This is followed by a series of supporting Arguments
5. The text is concluded by means of a Reiteration stage in which the original,
central position is restated, usually in stronger, more forthright terms.
The staging is illustrated in figure 1 following.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 6
THESIS
ARGUMENT
I think the Canterbury Council should
construct more Activity Centres in most local
areas.
Position
Firstly, children can keep busy as well as have
fun in the holidays. Secondly, they learn a lot
about how to do certain things. Finally, it might
stop children vandalising properties that don't
belong to them because they can go to the
Activity Centres.
Preview
During the school holidays, many children who
don't have much on their minds can attend
their local Activity Centre.
Point
It will keep them busy and they can also learn
to do lots of different things.
Elaboration
Another reason is children can encourage
others to attend the local Activity Centre. This
way children will not get so bored because
they can have lots of fun..
Point
ARGUMENT
It will keep them busy and they can also learn
to do lots of different things.
Moreover, it could stop children from
vandalising others' property,
ARGUMENT
REITERATION
because they have better things to do like
going to the Activity Centre and having fun
and enjoying themselves. .
Elaboration
Point
Elaboration
These are the main reasons why I think we
should have more Activity Centres. It will be
very educational and a very good experience
for lots of children.
Figure 1: generic structure of one type of argument text
The point of this discussion has been to demonstrate, once again, that the culture
establishes frameworks or patterns of textual organisation by which we can pursue
particular social objectives. We have seen that to conform to the conventions by
which arguments are typically advanced in written texts, we need to include a
particular set of stages organised in a particular sequence or order.
We're now in a position to discuss further what we mean by the term genre. By the
use of the term, we acknowledge that the culture establishes certain patterns of
textual development which associate with the various social purposes which can be
accomplished through the use of language. Those recurrent, predictable and
conventionalised patterns of textual organisation will involve certain functional
stages. Some of those stages will obligatory if a text is going to be recognised as
having membership in a given genre (such as the Thesis in the Argument genre )
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 7
while others will be optional (such as the Preview in the Argument). In standard
examples of a given genre, there will be requirements as to the ordering of those
stages. Thus in a standard Argument, if there is Preview present, then it will come
after and not before the presentation of the primary Position (the main argument being
advanced).
Feez has provided the following account of what we mean by genre (Feez, Systemic
Summer School lecture notes Macquarie University, Sydney, 1997)
Genres are average, idealised, abstract descriptions of recognisable text
structures used to achieve general social purposes in our culture. Successful
users of language are able to draw on their unconscious, or conscious
knowledge, of these generalised linguistic conventions and the typical
meanings which are made at each stage of a genre, and the typical words and
structures which are used to express them. Depending on the context and
their purpose, successful language users either remain reasonably true to the
convention and its expression, or in some circumstances, might adapt the
generic structure in order, for example, to challenge the social purpose or to
expand the meanings that can be made through the text.
Feez is making a very important point here. Although our culture provides these
ready-made frameworks for structuring our language use, it is always open to
speakers to innovate, to ignore or defy convention, to transform the established
genres, to invent new ones, or to import additional genres from other cultures. In
some instances, such innovation may be well received. The innovator may be hailed
as a major new artistic figure, as the inventor of a new art form. In other contexts, the
reception may be less enthusiastic. The innovator may simply be regarded as lacking
fluency in the given discourse, as lacking some degree of communicative competence,
and so on.
As well, we should note that the types of genres I have discussed to this point tend to
operate in the context of smaller-scale texts. When we turn our attention to larger
texts, such as longer journalistic features, we may find that they are complex with
respect to genre - that they are made up of a number of these smaller-scale genres.
Story Genres.
In the current context of our concern with the mass media and particularly news
reporting, one genre sub-type looms large, namely that associated with the story or
story telling. Certainly journalists refer to their own news reports as ‘stories’ or even
‘yarns’ and academic analysts often assume that the news report is a type of ‘story’
or ‘narrative’. Adam, for example, holds that, ‘The elementary structure of the
narrative sequence is found not only as the basis of the epic, the fable, most novels,
works of classical theatre, but also in reportage, the spot news story, oral narration
and everyday anecdotes’ (Adam 1992: 12, my translation). But further analysis
reveals that the connection between the modern news report and traditional modes of
story telling or narrative is, in fact, somewhat more complicated and problematic.
There are certain features of the modern news report which some analysts see as
entirely non-narrative and which therefore require that it be seen as an entirely
separate text type or genre. In order to explore this issue further, we will firstly
consider what are the features we would expect of the news report if it were a subtype
of narrative.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 8
There is a long tradition of academic research into the nature of the narrative
conducted under the heading of ‘narratology’. Once of the most influential writers in
the field was the socio-linguist, William Labov, who set out a reasonably clear
account of at least one type of narrative or story in the process of recording the
personal accounts and anecdotes of young African Americans. (See, for example,
Labov &Waletzky 1967) In the interests of ease of reference I will use Labov’s term,
‘ narratives of personal experience’, or ‘the Labovian narrative’, to reference the type
of story telling with which Labov was concerned.
Briefly, we can say that Labov classifies as ‘narratives of personal experience’, those
texts which are concerned with some specific, sequence of events which unfolds
chronologically through time, which involve individualised characters or
protagonists, rather than generic or abstract participants, and which include some or
all of the following stages:
1. An Abstract: What, in a nutshell, happened? (Or, how can you whet my appetite
for this story?)
2. An Orientation: Who was involved? When and where was this?
3. Complicating Action: So what happened first? Then what happened?
4. Evaluation: How is all this interesting, to me or to you?
5. A Resolution: So what finally happened?
6. A Coda: How does the story to relate to us, here and now? Or, what's the lesson to
be learned here?
A text which Labov would classify as a ‘narrative of personal experience’ is set out
below, along with an analysis of its stages (see left column) according to how these
stages are defined by Labov.
Elements
Abstract
Orientation
Complicating Action
Evaluation
Resolution
Coda
Text
Somebody just wrecked the front of our car.
We were coming out of the North car park, just after lunch,
and there was this guy ahead of us in one of those jeep-like
deals, seemingly leaving too.
He suddenly went into reverse and came back towards us at
speed. He hit us even before we could sound the horn.
We were furious with him. There was broken glass all over
the ground, and it didn't seem wise to drive the car without
having a mechanic check it over. It wouldn't be so bad but
the car isn't ours; it's on loan to us.
Well we exchanged names and addresses and insurance and
so forth.
But it means we're going to be without a car for a few days
at least.
For Labov, some of these stages are more important or more criterial than others in
that they must necessarily be present if the narrative is to be well formed, while others
are only optional. The necessary stages are Complicating Action, and Resolution,
while Abstract, Orientation and Coda are optional. Thus for example, it would be
possible to leave off the Abstract stage in the above narrative (i.e. Somebody just
wrecked the front of our car.’’) and begin with the Orientation (‘We were coming out
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 9
of the North car park…’) and still have a standard, coherent narrative. Evaluation
does not always occur as a separate stage but may occur as isolated elements (words,
phrases, clauses, single sentences) which act to add interest and impact to the story. A
certain ordering of the stages is also required. Thus if an Abstract or Orientation is
present, it must necessarily precede the Complicating Action, the Complicating
Action must precede the Resolution, and the Coda, if present, must come last.
Beyond Labov
Labov’s framework provides a useful starting point for analysis but, as I will argue, it
is somewhat limited. The problem lies in the way he defines or describes the core
elements, Complicating Action and Resolution. Of the first, Labov seems only to
require that ‘something happened’ – he doesn’t indicate what this something might
need to entail or it to constitute the Complicating Action of a well formed narrative.
Similarly he only seems to require of the Resolution that it brings the sequence of
events to an end - it is simply ‘what finally happened’. I believe that such broad
definitions mean that some key differences between sub-types of story telling will be
overlooked. That is to say, while his definition has the benefit of being so general as
to include a very large number of story-telling texts, it suffers from not being able to
identify and analyse some key differences between different types of story. To
illustrate this point, consider the following two stories.
Fight Story (1)
One day I was walking through the school and a kid came up to me and he
said, “Do you want a fight?” and I said “Yes”.
Then I took my coat off. Then he chucked the first punch. I chucked a
punch back at him and I got him right in the mouth and I broke his jaw.
Then I walked back and ran and he pulled me to the ground. Then I got up.
Then I grabbed him and chucked him against a steel pole. He turned and ran
off. I didn't bother to chase him.
Fight Story (2)
It all happened when I was walking home from school.
Two twits from my class decided to pick on me. They started yelling stupid
names like spazzo, pigface etc. I didn't mind this. I also didn't mind Kelly
punching me in the shoulder. What I did mind was that Kelly kept me
occupied while Matthew (better known as Roberts) rode my bike around the
cul de sac of the street. This was harmless. But, still riding, he kicked off
my bag and jumped off the bike leaving it to fall. This made me sore. I gave
in to my temper. When Matthew saw this he took off.
So it was me and David Kelly to battle it out. I chased him around and
around the street. When I finally caught up to him I threw punches galore.
Most of them missed. Kelly managed to escape and run home.
I think I was the victor, but if I was, I don't think it was worth it.
(Both texts from Rothery and Stenglin English Resource Pack for the New
South Wales Department of School Education, Met East Disadvantaged
Schools Program – students from lower secondary asked to describe a
dangerous or violent incident in which they had been involved)
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p. 10
Past readers of these texts have been overwhelmingly of the view that text 2 is the
much better ‘story’ – it is much more engaging, more suspenseful and much better
constructed than text 1. Why is this so? Well unfortunately Labov’s more broadlybased framework provides no avenue for exploring this difference since, in Labov’s
terms, they are equally well-formed narratives. Thus,
Fight Story (1)
(Orientation)
One day I was walking through the school and a kid came up to me and he
said,
(Complication)
“Do you want a fight?” and I said “Yes”.
Then I took my coat off. Then he chucked (Evaluation) the first punch. I
chucked (Evaluation) a punch back at him and I got him right (Evaluation)
in the mouth and I broke his jaw. Then I walked back and ran and he pulled
me to the ground. Then I got up. Then I grabbed him and chucked
(Evaluation) him against a steel pole.
(Resolution)
He turned and ran off.
(Coda)
I didn't bother to chase him.
Fight Story (2)
(Orientation)
It all happened when I was walking home from school.
(Complication)
Two twits from my class decided to pick on me. They started yelling stupid
(Evaluation) names like spazzo, pigface etc. I didn't mind this. (Evaluation)
I also didn't mind Kelly punching me in the shoulder. What I did mind was
(Evaluation) that Kelly kept me occupied while Matthew (better known as
Roberts) rode my bike around the cul de sac of the street. This was harmless.
(Evaluation) But, still riding, he kicked off my bag and jumped off the bike
leaving it to fall. This made me sore. I gave in to my temper. (Evaluation)
When Matthew saw this he took off.
So it was me and David Kelly to battle it out. I chased him around and
around the street. When I finally caught up to him I threw punches galore.
(Evaluation) Most of them missed. (Evaluation)
(Resolution)
Kelly managed to escape and run home.
Coda
I think I was the victor, but if I was, I don't think it was worth it.
But we are able to distinguish between the two accounts and, in the process, explain
why the second is much better story telling, if we require rather more of the
Complication and Resolution stages. Here I follow other writers in the narratology
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 11
tradition who typically would see the following features as associated with the central
stages of ‘true’ or ‘archetypal’ narratives. They see the Complicating Action as not
simply the starting point of the chronological sequence but as some turn of events
which threatens, disrupts, destabilises or transforms the status quo and thus the well
being of the primary protagonists. The Complicating action must, therefore, be in
some way ‘untoward’, it must constitute an unwelcome and usually unexpected
disruption of the usual sequence of events. Similarly, the Resolution is seen to play a
rather more crucial and dramatic role. It is no longer seen as simply the concluding
event, but rather the turn of events by which the threat posed by the Complicating
Action is solved, resisted or overcome. Thus one of the leading figures in the
narratology movement, Todorov, states,
An ideal narrative begins with a stable situation which some sort of force
comes to disrupt. From this results a state of imbalance. Then by the action
of another force, directed in the opposition direction, the equilibrium is
restored; this second state of stability is similar to the first but the two are
never identical. ( Todorov 1973: 82 my translation1).
Hénault takes a similar view,
'Le récit achevé peut se lire comme la transformation d'un état donné en son
contraire. La prévisibilité de ce parcours binaire définit la cohérence
particulière du récit et marque sa clôture' - Hénault 83:27 – 47
The typical (ideal/perfect) story can be read as a transformation from a given
state to its opposite. The forseeability of this traversal of binary positions
defines the special (characteristic) coherence of the story and marks its
closure
Consequently, I would offer the following revised descriptions of the Complication
and Resolution stages:
 Complicating Action (or Complication) – introduces some destabilisation of the
status quo, some problem, threat, danger or disruption (obligatory)
 Resolution – the challenge introduced in the Complicating Action is addressed
and overcome, the social order and equilibrium are restored (obligatory)
A key consequence of this revised approach is that we will now identify additional
sub-types of story or narrative because there will be many story telling texts which
don’t feature Complications or Resolutions, at least in the terms I have just set out.
The first fight story text is a case in point. While it might still, presumably, fall under
the general heading of a ‘story’, there is very little sense of any significant
‘destabilisation, nor of any ‘transformation’, as defined in the narratology tradition.
That is to say, the account was presented in such a way that there was (a) no strong
sense that the fight constituted a significant threat to any state of well-being and (b),
even more significantly, there was little sense that some threat had finally been
defeated through the determination, bravery, wisdom, virtue, good luck etc of a
central character. The story is without a clear Complications or Resolutions in the
‘Un récit idéal commence par une situation stable qu'une force quelconque vient perturber. Il en
résulte un état de déséquilibre; par l'action d'une force dirigée en sense inverse, l'équilibre est rétabli; le
second équilibre est bien semblable au premier, mais les deux ne sont jamais identiques’
1
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 12
sense provided by Todorov and Henault’s formulations. It is thus a poor example of
an ‘ideal’ narrative.
The second fight story is different. I would argue that the attack on the central
character and his response to this are described in such a way that we are left with a
strong sense, firstly, of significant threat and destabilisation and, finally, with a sense
of triumph over adversity by this central, ‘heroic’ character. We can say that the
Complication and Resolution stages are much more clearly delineated and
accordingly that this is much more the ‘ideal’ narrative.
We are now in a position to offer an explanation for why readers typically favour text
2 over text 1. They are responding to the presence of clear Complication and
Resolution stages in text 2 and their absence in text 1. They are responding to the
sense that the ‘ideal’ narrative text (fight story 2) builds suspense and dramatic
intensity with a strongly articulated Complication. They are responding to the way
the ‘ideal’ narrative engages the reader/listener as the action moves towards the
climax of the Resolution. They are responding to the way that the ‘ideal’ narrative
structure provides them with a sense of sharing in the hero’s triumph over adversity.
They are responding to the feeling that the ‘ideal’ narrative structure ‘makes sense’ or
gives ‘meaning’ to the events therein recounted.
My argument, then, is that we can usefully develop of more detailed or fine-grained
taxonomy of story or narrative types in which texts like fight story 1 would be
separated from texts like fight story 2. I therefore propose, in the interests of clarity, to
coin the term ‘triumph narrative’ to designate stories, like fight text 2, which feature
clear Complications and Resolutions, which involve some obvious threat to or
disruption of the status quo and a some obvious triumph over this threat or disruption .
To ensure my point is well made, I offer the following example of an archetypal
‘triumph narrative’, with the generic stages indicated.
Triumph Narrative  Jack and the Beanstalk (abridged version)
[Orientation: sets the scene, introduces the principle characters, places them in
a context]
Once upon a time there was a widow who dwelt with her son Jack in a little
cottage beside a mountain so sheer and high that it seemed to reach right up into
the sky. The widow was so poor and she and her son usually only had beans and
sometimes vegetables for food. Jack, however, was a hard worker and was
always cheerful and enthusiastic, despite the hardships.
[Complicating Action: introduces some challenge, danger, change or disruption
which threatens the lives, safety or happiness of the characters presented in the
Orientation - some action which disrupts the social order]
One winter, however, all the crops failed and the widow feared that she and
Jack might starve. She decided therefore to sell their cow and use the money to
buy more provisions. She called Jack in from the garden and instructed him to
take the cow to market. Jack set out but before he had gone very far, he came
upon an old man who persuaded him to exchange the cow for a bag of beans,
which the old man insisted has truly magical properties.
When Jack returned home, his mother was extremely angry and threw out the
beans. But overnight, the beans miraculously began to sprout, and by morning
there was huge beanstalk reaching up into the clouds.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 13
Jack awoke before for his mother and decided to climb the beanstalk. He
climbed through the clouds and found himself in the land of the giants. He made
his way into the castle of one particular frightening and loathsome giant and
decided to steal various magical items he found there. But before he could
leave, the giant (a known man-eater) returned and Jack was forced to hide in
cupboard in the kitchen.
[Evaluation: acts to evaluate the action in some way, to indicate the severity of
the hero’s plight etc, to colour the action emotionally or in terms of some value
judgement]
The giant entered and in a terrible voiced declared ‘Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell the
blood of an Englishman’ What would happen to Jack? Could he possibly hope
to escape? It looked like his end was nigh.
[Resolution: the steps taken by the primary protagonist(s) - usually the hero - to
resist the threat or resolve the problem presented in the ‘Complicating Action’.
The hero restores social equilibrium, removing the source of social disruption
and danger]
Miraculously, however, Jack managed to elude the giant, to steal a number of
the valuable items, including a magic hen which laid eggs of gold and a magic
harp . He fled the castle and descended the beanstalk, hotly pursued by the
giant. He cut down the beanstalk in the nick of time and the giant fell to his
death.
[Final Stage- the Coda: wraps up the action, indicates that the Resolution has
in fact been successful, that the complicating action has been finally overcome
and now everything is back to ‘normal’. The new social equilibrium is put on
display.]
The magic harp broke into song, revealing that the giant was a thief who had
stolen all the valuables and a murderer whose victims had included Jack’s
father. The harp sang, ‘Master, I am yours alone, Now the Giant’s dead and
gone, And the knight whom once he slew, Was your father, good and true. Bags
of gold and golden hen, Come but to their own again’. Jack and his mother lived
happily every after, never again to go hungry now that they had the gold-laying
then.
The staging of the ‘triumph narrative’ is summarised below.
1. Abstract – encapsulating or summarising the whole story, providing an overview
(optional)
2. Orientation – locating the events of the story in time and space, introducing main
participants. (optional)
3. Complicating Action (or Complication) – introduces some destabilisation of the
status quo, some problem, threat, danger or disruption (obligatory)
4. Evaluation Focus– indicates why the story has been told, its point (may be
dispersed across the text, may not be concentrated in one stage or section obligatory)
5. Result/Resolution – the challenge introduced in the Complicating Action is
addressed and overcome, the social order and equilibrium are restored (obligatory)
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 14
6. Coda – provides general review of the action, returns the account to the here and
now, places it in a broader social context, passes some judgement on the action.
(optional)
But what, then, are we to make of texts like fight story 1, lacking as they do clearly
delineated Complications and Resolutions. Well, in this, I follow the work of a group
of linguists known as the ‘Sydney Genre School’ and most particularly the work of
Plum and Rothery. (See, for example, Martin &Plum 1997 or Rothery &Stenglin
1997) They have proposed several additional story or narrative sub-types alongside
the ‘triumph narrative’. These additional story types feature their own distinctive set
of genre stages and patterns of textual organisation by which they can be recognised.
As we will see, fight text 1 would fit neatly into the category which Plum, Rothery
and others in the Sydney school have termed the ‘Recount’. I will therefore turn now
to providing a brief account of this extended framework. This will prove particularly
useful for (a) understanding what has been involved in the transition from the old
style of news report to the modern and (b) in analysing many so-called ‘soft news’ or
‘human interest’ news items.
Beyond the ‘triumph narrative’ – the
family of story types
Recount
Let us return to the example of old style news reporting which we briefly considered
in the last chapter, the account of the traffic accident by the New York Times of 1907.
I repeat it here for ease of reference.
AGED WOMAN'S BACK BROKEN.
Struck by an Auto While Returning from Father Mayor's Funeral.
Mrs. Amelia Greenblatt of 115 East Eight Street attended the funeral
yesterday of her late paster, the Rev. John B. Mayer, in the St Nicholas
Roman Catholic Church in Second Street. The service ended at noon and
Mrs Greenblatt started form the church to go to here home.
She crossed the sidewalk and stepped into Second Avenue almost in front of
an automobile driven by Rudolph Plain of 379 Gates Avenue, Brooklyn.
Plain, who was driving from the Williamsburg Bridge toward Bond Street,
sounded his horn loudly as he came down the avenue into which throngs
were flocking from the church.
The loud blast of the horn startled Mrs. Greenblatt, who is 54 years old, and
she stood still, apparently stupefied by her danger. Plain put on his brakes
and tried to swing the machine to one side. Before he could stop the car,
however, it had struck the woman and flung her to one side against the
curbstone.
Women in the crowd screamed in horror. Policemen Burke of the Fifth Street
Station lifted the woman in his arms and put her in the [back] of the auto
which Plain had succeeded in stopping. Then he ordered the chauffeur to
drive up Avenue A to Bellevue Hospital at top speed.
The trip to the hospital of more than a mile was made in less than thee
minutes. Physicians who examined Mrs Greenblatt said that her spine was
broken.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 15
…
New-York Times - 18/10/1907
This is clearly not a story of the type described by Todorov and Henault - clearly not a
‘triumph narrative.’ There is no movement from Complication to Resolution, no
action by some central protagonist to resist the onset of disruption/danger/evil, and no
sense of movement from dis-equilibrium to re-equilibrium. Yet we might still want to
think of this as some sort of story, as at least related in some way to the ‘ideal’
narratives of Todorov’s description. For instance, the text is clearly organised around
a specific sequence of events, set out in chronological order and it does concern
specific, human actors or participants. It has a clear unity of action.
Following Plum and Rothery, such chronological accounts are analysed as a sub-type
of story, alongside, but separate from the ‘Triumph Narrative’, and termed
‘Recounts’. These Recounts are organised around the description of a sequence of
events, in chronological order, and may include an Abstract and/or an Orientation, as
well as a Coda, as identified by Labov. They differ from Triumph Narratives in
having no movement from Complicating Action to Resolution.
Their generic organisation is as follows:
Staging
1. Abstract – provides an overview or summary (often but not always
present)
2. Orientation – introduces the participants and the setting, locates the story
in a social/physical context (often but not always present)
2. Record of events – sets out the sequence of events (must be present)
3. Coda – returns the text to the here-and-now, gives a retrospective
overview of the incident (often but not always present)
Example
[Abstract]
AGED WOMAN'S BACK BROKEN.
Struck by an Auto While Returning from Father Mayor's Funeral.
[Orientation]
Mrs. Amelia Greenblatt of 115 East Eight Street attended the funeral
yesterday of her late paster, the Rev. John B. Mayer, in the St Nicholas
Roman Catholic Church in Second Street.
[Record of Events]
The service ended at noon and Mrs Greenblatt started form the church to go
to here home.
She crossed the sidewalk and stepped into Second Avenue almost in front of
an automobile driven by Rudolph Plain of 379 Gates Avenue, Brooklyn.
Plain, who was driving from the Williamsburg Bridge toward Bond Street,
sounded his horn loudly as he came down the avenue into which throngs
were flocking from the church.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 16
The loud blast of the horn startled Mrs. Greenblatt, who is 54 years old, and
she stood still, apparently stupefied by her danger. Plain put on his brakes
and tried to swing the machine to one side. Before he could stop the car,
however, it had struck the woman and flung her to one side against the
curbstone.
Women in the crowd screamed in horror. Policemen Burke of the Fifth Street
Station lifted the woman in his arms and put her in the [back] of the auto
which Plain had succeeded in stopping. Then he ordered the chauffeur to
drive up Avenue A to Bellevue Hospital at top speed.
The trip to the hospital of more than a mile was made in less than thee
minutes. Physicians who examined Mrs Greenblatt said that her spine was
broken.
But what about, Evaluation, the element which Labov, for instance, identified as a key
element in his ‘Narratives of personal experience? Evaluation involves a wide range
of meanings by which narrators comment on, and pass judgement on the action, by
which they insert a subjective or interpersonal element into the story telling. The
purpose is to demonstrate the 'tellability' of the story, to heighten interest, to increase
the sense of impact, drama, intrigue or suspense. Well, in Plum’s framework, a
Recount need not contain such evaluative elements – sometimes a Recount may be a
very ‘flat’ and factual depiction of just what happened, i.e. a police report. Consider,
by way of example, the following police-report style account of the accidental
shooting of a fellow quail hunter by the US Vice President, Mr Dick Cheney in 2006,
The incident occurred at the Armstrong ranch yesterday afternoon at about
5.30 A group had assembled to shoot white quail. Mr Cheney and two others
exited their cars to walk up the covey. The birds flushed. Mr Whittington,
who was one of the guests, made a good shot on one of the birds. He went
away about 250 yards from the other hunters to retrieve his bird. While he
was out of the hunting area, another covey was flushed and Mr Cheney
swung on a bird and fired, striking Whittington in the face neck and chest at
approximately 30 yards. Cheney was using a 28 gauge shotgun loaded with 7
½ shot. Immediately medical attention was rendered by Cheney’s staff. An
ambulance was called and Mr Whittington was conveyed immediately to the
Corpus Christie hospital.
Equally, however, a Recount (according to the Plum and Rothery framework) may
feature explicit evaluation. Our ‘Aged Woman’s Back Broken’ is one such
‘evaluative’ Recount. It contains numerous words and phrases which add to the sense
of drama and impact, ane thereby enhance the ‘tellability’ of the account. These
evaluative elements are identified below in bold.
Plain, who was driving from the Williamsburg Bridge toward Bond Street,
sounded his horn loudly as he came down the avenue into which throngs
were flocking from the church.
The loud blast of the horn startled Mrs. Greenblatt, who is 54 years old,
and she stood still, apparently stupefied by her danger. Plain put on his
brakes and tried to swing the machine to one side. Before he could stop the
car, however, it had struck the woman and flung her to one side against the
curbstone.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 17
Women in the crowd screamed in horror. Policemen Burke of the Fifth
Street Station lifted the woman in his arms and put her in the [back] of the
auto which Plain had succeeded in stopping. Then he ordered the chauffeur
to drive up Avenue A to Bellevue Hospital at top speed.
Where such evaluative elements are present in Recounts, they tend to be distributed
across the text, as was the case above.
The Anecdote
Another sub-type of story is what Plum terms the 'Anecdote'. For example,
While jogging through leafy East Killara at 6:38 yesterday morning, Barry
McCrea was entranced by a rare romantic sight.
A tall young man double-parked his station wagon beside a car in Wentworth
Avenue, got out, and under the windscreen wiper of the car placed a red rose.
All together...aaaaaah. [Column 8; Sydney Morning Herald, August 6,
1991:1]
Once again, key elements of the triumph narrative are missing. There appears to be no
danger, disruption or challenge, and hence no Complication. Yet there is still
something compellingly story-like about this account - the text involves a human
participant, a specific sequence of events and some culturally significant value or
motif. Accordingly we include such anecdotes in our repertoire of story sub-types.
Following Plum, we say that Anecdotes are organised around some Remarkable
Incident and are intended to provoke a shared emotional response or reaction (a laugh,
a sigh, a groan, a tear, as appropriate) in the audience. This reaction is often not
explicitly stated, and may be left understood or assumed. This reaction carries the
primary evaluative aspect of the text.
Staging
1. Orientation/Abstract (optional)
2. Remarkable Incident
3. Reaction (may not always be explicitly stated in the text – may be left
understood or assumed – carries the primary Evaluative aspect of the text)
4. Coda (optional)
Example
[Orientation]
While jogging through leafy East Killara at 6:38 yesterday morning,
[Abstract]
Barry McCrea was entranced by a rare romantic sight.
[Remarkable Incident]
A tall young man double-parked his station wagon beside a car in Wentworth
Avenue, got out, and under the windscreen wiper of the car placed a red rose.
[Reaction]
All together...aaaaaah.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 18
Exemplums: moral tales
Plum identifies one further sub-type of story telling, what he labels the ‘Exemplum’.
The purpose of this type of story is to do more than simply set out some sequence of
events (Recount), is more than to simply share some emotional reaction with the
listener(Anecdote), and is not to involve the listener in the suspense of some hero
being confronted by and only ultimately overcoming some crisis or threat to the social
order (Triumph Narrative). Rather the purpose of these Exemplums is to make some
sort of point, to be instructional in some way, to present incidents which supposedly
provide support for the narrator’s evaluations of what is right or wrong, good or bad,
contemptible of praiseworthy.
Fables of the Aesop’s variety are good examples of Exemplums. Their purpose is
typically to instruct the audience in what is social and/or morally acceptable
behaviour by depicting some sequence of events which has a disastrous outcome,
hence making a moral point. For example,
The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat (from the fables of Aesop)
THE BIRDS waged war with the Beasts, and each were by turns the
conquerors.
A Bat, fearing the uncertain issues of the fight, always fought on the side
which he felt was the strongest. When peace was proclaimed, his deceitful
conduct was apparent to both combatants. Therefore being condemned by
each for his treachery, he was driven forth from the light of day, and
henceforth concealed himself in dark hiding-places, flying always alone and
at night.
He winds up friendless who plays both sides against the middle.
While this type of text is like the other narrative sub-types in involving human or
human-like protagonists and in presenting some sequence of events in chronological
order, it is neither simply the description of these events (hence not a Recount) nor is
it about some protagonist being tested by, but ultimately overcoming, some threat or
crisis (hence not a Triumph Narrative). Rather, the point of the text is to instruct or to
demonstrate the validity of some evaluative position. The sequence of events is
described, not for its own sake, but for its demonstrative value.
In the manner of the other story-telling sub-types, these Exemplum quite often begin
with an Abstract (summary overview) and/or and Orientation (scene setting). They
also feature a stage which presents the sequence of events. The Exemplum differs
from the other story-telling types, however, in having a separate stage which presents
an interpretation of the events being described in terms of their evaluative or moral
significance – thus,
He winds up friendless who plays both sides against the middle.
Summarising, the stages typically found in the Exemplum are,
Staging
1. Orientation/Abstract (optional)
2. Incident (sequence of events)
3. Interpretation (making sense of the incident in evaluative terms)
4. Coda (optional)
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 19
Demonstrating this structure by reference to the Fable, we have,
Example
[Orientation]
THE BIRDS waged war with the Beasts, and each were by turns the
conquerors.
[Incident]
A Bat, fearing the uncertain issues of the fight, always fought on the side
which he felt was the strongest. When peace was proclaimed, his deceitful
conduct was apparent to both combatants.
Therefore being condemned by each for his treachery, he was driven forth
from the light of day, and henceforth concealed himself in dark hidingplaces, flying always alone and at night.
[Interpretation]
He winds up friendless who plays both sides against the middle.
Exemplums need not be so overtly moralistic. Plum also includes in this category
those texts which involve the narrator presenting an incident by way of
support/evidence for either a positive or negative view of some person, group, thing
or state of affairs. Such a story is exemplified by the following text. It’s taken from a
collection of spoken stories recorded by Plum as he travelled about interviewing
contestants in dog shows about past memorable happenings associated with their
dogs. (Plum’s preliminary question is included at the beginning of the transcript of the
recording.)
[Abstract]
Plum: Do you have a favourite story concerning your dogs?
Dog breeder: Actually there is one that makes me laugh. It's more showing
the cunning.
[Orientation]
The little red bitch in there, you know, she was only a little puppy. And the
big male, if you see him out there, well he's not particularly keen on his food.
He eats it because he has to; the others eat because they love eating. And
I've seen her finish her own (this is when she was younger) and I would feed
him down at that end of the decking. I've seen her go out there and if any
noise was down the back she'd be the first one down [the back of the yard]
because the big yard, you could see right through to the end. She'd tear off;
she wouldn't wait for him. She'd woof, and straight down there.
[Incident]
This night, she'd eaten her own food. She went out. She stood out there and
she barked and looked down and he left his food and went down to the back
of the yard and she went over and ate his food.
[Interpretation]
See, this is the type of thing that you can see the reasoning. (laughs) See,
normally if there was a noise, if she thought there was a noise, she'd've been
down there. But she knew there wasn't anything there; she knew if she stood
and barked that he'd go and look. So it’s cunning
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 20
[Coda]
You see, that to me is incredible.
(Plum 1988: 204)
Here the point of the story is to demonstrate the speaker’s positive view of his dog –
namely that she’s a very smart animal. The incident is recounted, not for its own sake,
but by way of evidence for this point of view.
English-language news and types of
story telling.
Journalistic origins
We are now in a position to return to the question of English-language news reports
and their status as story telling. We have already considered one instance of an oldstyle report – the Aged Woman's Back Broken’ item from the New-York Times of
1907. We observed that it fitted fairly neatly into the framework specified for a
Recount – namely, Abstract + Orientation + Record of Events. Of course, it might be
argued that this text did include a Complicating Action, namely the woman being
struck by the car. This would clearly seem to be some sort of problem, crisis, or
disruption of the status quo. However, crucially, in this case there is no Resolution the incident is left unresolved with the woman in hospital critically injured, possibly
close the death. And while the driver who picks here up and rushes her to hospital
might just have taken on the heroic protagonist’s role, this aspect is not developed,
especially given that the driver is not instrumental in ‘saving’ the woman. Thus there
is very little by way of ‘triumph’ in this narrative.
The other old-style report we have been considering– the Rum Puncheon mêlée report
– is broadly similar. But let’s turn to it again to take a closer look.
On Tuesday evening, about the hour of eight o'clock, a puncheon of rum in
the bonded store at the back of the Gazette Office burst, and the intoxicating
stream found its way through the drain into St. George street, the
invigorating cry of 'grog ahoy' was immediately raised, and pots, pans and
buckets were put into instant requisition for saving the precious liquid, which
by this time had obtained the consistency of pea soup; some who had not the
convenience of utensils stretched themselves on mother earth and lapped up
the beverage, until they became incapable of rising; others were staggering
off in various directions scarcely capable of maintaining their equilibrium,
and even a batch of children were seen quaffing the beverage with much
gout. A bacchanalian scene ensued, and the conservators of the peace were
required to put it down. (The Sydney Gazette, 1831)
The report begins with some scene setting (‘On Tuesday evening, about the hour of
eight o’clock…’) which might be classified as ‘Orienting’, though it is perhaps too
brief to classify as a distinct Orientation stage. Almost immediately some
complicating action is described – the bursting of the rum container, the flow of
alcohol into the street and the rush of passers-by to partake of the liquid. The
unfolding of this disruptive event is then described in some detail and in largely
chronological order. There is perhaps something of the Anecdote about this incident –
there is certainly something ‘remarkable’ about the event. However there is nothing to
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 21
suggest that the reader is intended to laugh or sigh with the writer – that is to say,
share some emotional reaction – and hence this would not be classified as Anecdote.
Nor does it seem to be an Exemplum, since there’s no obvious interpretation provided
of the moral or evaluative significance of the event. We do, however, seem to have
the beginnings of what could be either a Recount (a simple sequence of events) or a
Triumph Narrative (disruption to the social order fended off and order restored,
typically by a heroic protagonist). Which is it? Well, I suppose the intervention of the
‘conservators of the peace’ at the very end might be seen as providing a Resolution,
and hence we might class this as a Triumph Narrative. Against this, we might note
that this ‘resolution’ is afforded only the most minimal of treatments – i.e. not even a
complete sentence and left until the text’s final two clauses. As well, we might note
that the effectors of this restoration of social order, the police, are hardly central
protagonists, not being presented as battling against some adversity and not making
their entrance until this final sentence. Accordingly we can say that this text hovers
somewhere between a simple Recount and a Triumph Narrative, and is probably more
Recount than Narrative, considering the only very minimal role given the police and
their restoration of order.
These are only two examples of older-style reporting, but my own studies and those
by other researchers (see for example Iedema, 1997) suggest that Recounts were
largely the order of the day for event-based news reporting up until the late 19th
century and into the early years of the 20th.
Contemporary hard news and the narrative
On the face of it, there would seem to be little left of either the Recount or the
Triumph Narrative in modern hard news items of the type we have been examining.
Certainly the modern traffic accident report which we looked at in the previous notes
(‘School Jaunt Ends In Death Crash’) completely fractured the chronological timeline and offered little by way a Resolution. And with the report launching directly into
the heart of the matter (the death to the driver), there was nothing by way of
preliminary Orientation stage to set the scene. As a result, there are some who would
insist that news and narrative are entirely different categories. Thus, for example,
Lloyd observes,
As we have seen, chronology is fundamental to narrative writing. It is not
fundamental to news writing and particularly not to the hard news intro and
news lead. (Lloyd 1994: 57)
I believe, however, that this is overstating the case and that there are still some
important connections between the modern orbital news item and traditional narrative
which need to be noted.
Chronologies
Even while the typical modern news item fractures the chronological sequence, it is,
nevertheless, crucially concerned with some specific sequence of events unfolding in
time. Thus we might argue that a potentially retrievable chronological sequence
underlies the news report. And in some cases, that chronology emerges, more or less,
to determine the sequencing of information in substantial spans of the text. Consider
the following text by way of example,
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 22
Enter the savage New Year
Midnight massacre as suicide maniac kills wife, three men
1. A CRAZED husband hacked his wife to death at a family party then killed
three young men in a suicide car crash at midnight on New Year’s Eve.
2. Taxi driver Vernon Reynolds stabbed his estranged wife Denise and
wounded her parents and sisters as they celebrated at her seaside hotel.
3. Sixteen people, including seven children, were at the party.
4. They screamed and tried to hide as he burst in and slashed at them with a
knife.
5. Reynolds drove off and ploughed into a Mini carrying three friends,
killing them and himself.
6. Police were considering the possibility that 44 year-old Reynolds
deliberately crashed his car into the other vehicle to end his life.
7. Friends said the father of three was distressed because his wife threw him
out two weeks ago and had a boyfriend.
8. The massacre began when Reynolds arrived at his wife’s family
celebration in Llandudno, North Wales.
9. The children three of them his, watched in terror as he pulled out a knife
and began stabbing their mother and others in the room.
10. Mrs Reynolds, 39, tried to escape by staggering to the doorstep of a
nearby house where she was knifed again.
11. Her last words whispered to an ambulanceman were: "Do you think I am
going to die?"
12. Neighbour Miss Lisa Rayner, 22, said: "The children all came out of the
hotel screaming and running down the road.
13. "A woman asked me to phone the police. Blood was pouring from her."
14. The five injured were Mrs Reynolds sister and brother-in-law Michelle
and Kenneth Owen, both 32, of Colindale, London.
15. Her father Victor Fryer, 60, and mother Ada, 59 also of Colindale. And
her other sister Mrs Pauline Nash of Dunstable, Bedfordshire.
16. Mrs Nash was critical after emergency surgery at Gwynedd Hospltal
Bangor. Mr Fryer was "serious" in another hospital.
17.Reynolds fled in his Marina and drove 10 miles out of the town along a
country road in the Conwy Valley.
18. Coming in the other direction were three young friends in a Mini.
Reynolds crashed head-on into them at Taly-Cafn, Gwynedd.
19. All four men died instantly.
20. The three in the Mini were: Robert Jones, 24, of Park Road, Deganwy;
Arwyn Roberts, 21, of Victoria Crescent, Llandudno Junction, and 18-yearold Brynley Roberts -- no relation -- of Penrhynside.
21. An ambulanceman said: "They were innocent lads going home from a
party."
22. Reynolds and Denise ran the Clovelly House Hotel in Llandudno for six
years.
23. They parted two weeks ago.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 23
24. A fellow taxi driver said: "He was a fairly quiet character. His wife had
gone off with someone else and made it clear Vernon wasn’t welcome in his
own home, I would never have thought he would do anything like this. But it
had hit him terribly hard. " [International Express 9/1/92: 6]
Notice that there are several ‘narrative’ sequences in the above account – that is to
say, a series of subsequent sentences where the unfolding of events is set out in
chronological order. One such sequence occurs at sentences 3 through 5.
3. Sixteen people, including seven children, were at the party.
4. They screamed and tried to hide as he burst in and slashed at them with a
knife.
5. Reynolds drove off and ploughed into a Mini carrying three friends,
killing them and himself.
and another, at sentences 7 through 13
7. Friends said the father of three was distressed because his wife threw him
out two weeks ago and had a boyfriend.
8. The massacre began when Reynolds arrived at his wife’s family
celebration in Llandudno, North Wales.
9. The children three of them his, watched in terror as he pulled out a knife
and began stabbing their mother and others in the room.
10. Mrs Reynolds, 39, tried to escape by staggering to the doorstep of a
nearby house where she was knifed again.
11. Her last words whispered to an ambulanceman were: "Do you think I am
going to die?"
12. Neighbour Miss Lisa Rayner, 22, said: "The children all came out of the
hotel screaming and running down the road.
13. "A woman asked me to phone the police. Blood was pouring from her."
The sequence is then taken up again at 17 through 19
17.Reynolds fled in his Marina and drove 10 miles out of the town along a
country road in the Conwy Valley.
18. Coming in the other direction were three young friends in a Mini.
Reynolds crashed head-on into them at Taly-Cafn, Gwynedd.
19. All four men died instantly.
A ‘narrative sequence’ can similarly be observed in the ‘Woman Bites Cop’ report. It
even begins with what can be seen as scene-setting Orientation.
[A] bizarre bust-up in Lower Manhattan unfolded at 10:30 p.m. Saturday at
the annual San Gennaro Festival.
Police said Bass, 36, her husband, Robert Fuchs, 52, two friends and one of
their kids were walking at Mulberry and Kenmare streets when a man
accidentally bumped into the child.
A heated argument broke out and erupted into a shoving match.
Secreto noticed the fight at the packed intersection and rushed to break it up.
That's when, cops say, Nicole made like a shark and bit down on Secreto's
thumb.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 24
Complicating Actions – social crisis points
Another point of connection between the modern hard news item and traditional
narrative is provided by the way hard news is centrally concerned with harm, set
backs or misfortune. In this, of course, there is a link to the Complication which we
saw is crucial to the Triumph Narrative. In this, then, both Triumph Narrative and the
modern English-language hard news item can be seen as texts for identifying
disruptions of the social order. Of course, ‘complication’ is dealt with rather
differently in the two text types - it typically comes at the very beginning of the news
item while it is not introduced till later in the Triumph narrative, where it is followed,
ultimately, by a Resolution. Nevertheless, the common concern with points of social
crisis seems generically significant.
In the case of some news items, it is even possible to observe what might be thought
of as a Resolution – some restitution of the status quo. The ‘Lady Wrestler Bites Cop’
item contained such an element in the account of the police officer intervening to stop
the fight and arrest the woman. Notably, of course, in this report both complicating
element (the outbreak of violence) and the resolving element (the arrest of the
woman) are presented at the very beginning of the account without any preamble or
other scene-setting. Perhaps most notably, in the body of the report (excluding the
headline) the resolving element precedes the complication as the event is presented in
reverse chronological order
Strapping lady wrestler Nicole Bass was down for the count and behind bars
last night after pulling a Mike Tyson and biting a cop during a wild melee in
Little Italy, police said.
Event-based news as narrative
What all this means is that there are still some grounds for classifying the modern
news item as a type of narrative with important connections to more traditional types.
In making this classification we are treating as communicatively significant the fact
that (a) news items are ultimately concerned with unfolding events (even if they often
don’t follow chronological sequence) and (b) their central orientation is towards
incidents by which the normal unfolding events is disrupted, i.e. with complicating
actions.
This, of course, is not to ignore the important differences between the event-based
hard news item and other narratives. Perhaps most crucial here is the fracturing of the
time-line and the encapsulating of the essentials of the event in the first few sentences.
This does indicate a very different communicative orientation from that which applies
in traditional narrative. This means the modern news item typically has no particular
concern for how events unfolded in time and for how one act led on to another.
Instead it functions to bring to the fore particular interpretations of what is most
socially significant about the event, and specifically interpretations of the way in
which the event threatens the status quo. News items must be seen, therefore, as
devices for covertly advancing theories about the nature of the social order and for
what forces and behaviours currently constitute the gravest threats to that order. This
is a point which will be taken up again in a later materials.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 25
Story telling and other types of news
In the above discussion our focus was on what is termed ‘hard news’ in Englishlanguage print/online journalism – typically reports of various types of misadventure,
conflict, damage or violence in the public domain. But what of ‘human interest’, ‘soft’
news or ‘colour’ writing. Are these similar to or different from ‘hard news’ in terms
of their structural organisation and in terms of their status as ‘story telling’?
As it turns out, ‘human interest’ includes quite a diverse array of report types, some
of which are have the same non-chronological, orbital structure we observed in hard
news reporting, while others are more chronological and more like traditional
narratives in they way they are organised. Consider the following typical example of
one type of ‘human interest’.
CAT'S FELINE FINE AFTER 45 DAYS UNDER THE FLOOR
Bruno ate insects
By CHRIS PHARO
A GIANT cat called Bruno survived after being nailed under floorboards for
a staggering 45 DAYS.
The one-stone (6.3 kg) bruiser's weight halved as he fought to stay alive by
eating spiders and insects.
He was eventually found suffering from starvation and dehydration after a
builder heard his feeble mews.
Cries
Last night four-year-old Bruno - named after boxer Frank - was home with
owner Aubrey Pitts after recovering at a vet's.
Aubrey said: "I'm overjoyed. I just can't believe he lasted that long."
Bruno vanished from home in Teignmouth, Devon, on April 9. Aubrey, 48,
and girlfriend Merrill Colbourne, 50, put up notices but heard nothing. Then
builder Derek Snell, renovating a flat two doors away, heard the cries when
he turned off his radio.
He lifted the boards and rushed to get taxi boss Aubrey.
Aubrey said: "I stuck my head down the hole but couldn't reach Bruno. Then
he recognised me. He literally dragged himself forward so I could get hold of
him.
"The poor thing was a sack of bones with a head. It was pitiful. He went
temporarily blind with the shock of being found."
He added: "It looks as though Bruno crept under the boards which were then
nailed back. He must have lived off his fat and eaten spiders. It was dry as a
bone in there. Clearly, curiosity nearly killed the cat."
Vet Neil Cottom put Bruno on a drip for several days. He said: "He's a lucky
cat. He wouldn't have survived another week."
Structurally, this item conforms exactly to the lead-dominated, orbital structure which
was outlined in the last chapter, as is demonstrated in the following analysis
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 26
[Nucleus – presents what happened in a nutshell; identifies what is most
noteworthy about the incident]
CAT'S FELINE FINE AFTER 45 DAYS UNDER THE FLOOR
Bruno ate insects
A GIANT cat called Bruno survived after being nailed under floorboards for
a staggering 45 DAYS.
[Satellites]
[Specification 1. elaboration + cause: more detailed description of the
struggle to survive; means by which he survived]
The one-stone (6.3 kg) bruiser's weight halved as he fought to stay alive by
eating spiders and insects.
[Specification 2. elaboration: details of the rescue]
He was eventually found suffering from starvation and dehydration after a
builder heard his feeble mews.
[Specification 3. consequences: what followed after the rescue]
Last night four-year-old Bruno - named after boxer Frank - was home with
owner Aubrey Pitts after recovering at a vet's.
[Specification 4. appraisal: evaluative assessment/reaction to the incident]
Aubrey said: "I'm overjoyed. I just can't believe he lasted that long."
[Specification 5. elaborating narrative sequence – events already described
presented in more detail]
Bruno vanished from home in Teignmouth, Devon, on April 9.
Aubrey, 48, and girlfriend Merrill Colbourne, 50, put up notices but heard
nothing. Then builder Derek Snell, renovating a flat two doors away, heard
the cries when he turned off his radio.
He lifted the boards and rushed to get taxi boss Aubrey.
Aubrey said: "I stuck my head down the hole but couldn't reach Bruno. Then
he recognised me. He literally dragged himself forward so I could get hold of
him.
[Specification 6. appraisal]
"The poor thing was a sack of bones with a head. It was pitiful. He went
temporarily blind with the shock of being found."
[Specification 7. elaboration – yet further details of what happened]
He added: "It looks as though Bruno crept under the boards which were then
nailed back. He must have lived off his fat and eaten spiders. It was dry as a
bone in there.
[Specification 8. appraisal]
Clearly, curiosity nearly killed the cat."
[Specification 9. consequences]
Vet Neil Cottom put Bruno on a drip for several days.
[Specification 10. appraisal]
He said: "He's a lucky cat. He wouldn't have survived another week."
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 27
The structure, then, is one of a nucleus which is then discontinuously elaborated,
contextualised, explained and commented on as the text unfolds. Thus, for example,
the exact details of what happened are provided discontinuously in Specifications 1, 2,
5 and 7, consequences are set out in Specifications 3 and 9, and evaluative responses
to the events are provided in Specifications 4, 6, 8 and 10.
At the same time, there are some obvious connections here with Triumph Narrative –
namely that there is an obvious Complicating Action (Bruno being nailed under the
floor) and an obvious Resolution (Bruno being rescued after managing to survive for
45 days). There is even a candidate for ‘heroic protagonist’, the cat himself who
somehow manages to overcome these adverse circumstances by eating insects. As
well, the various ‘appraisal’ Specifications have some of the qualities of a Coda in
that they step back from the action itself and provide commentary on that action. Of
course, normal narrative sequence has been reversed with the cat’s survival
announced at the very beginning. As a consequence, there is none of the suspense
which would have accompanied the telling had chronological sequence been
observed. We might call reports of this type, ‘Media Narratives’ in recognition that
they include the key ingredients of narrative, but reorganise them according to the
lead-dominated, orbital pattern which applies in hard news.
As well, I note, that without the ‘triumph’ aspect (i.e. if the cat hadn’t survived), it is
highly unlikely that this item would have made it into the newspaper. Even as ‘human
interest’, a report of a cat which died after being nailed under the floor would not be
seen as meriting publication, unless, perhaps, as part of a series exposing shoddy
practices by trades persons (in which case it would have been an Exemplum). Such
incidents, even when they only involve ‘ordinary people’ (or even pets) get reported
because they do offer this sense of uplift and optimism as the value of striving against
adversity is demonstrated. In this regard, this ‘Cat Feline Fine’ report is an example of
a sub-type of human interest which occurs with some regularity, at least in the
English-language tabloid media and in the local press – the ‘Triumph over Adversity’
story.
It is not always the case, however, that human interest reports adopt the leaddominated, orbital structure. Consider by way of example, the following
Dancing with delight. With two rods in her spine, a young star steps out
again
(Daily Mail: 28/1/2000: 3)
FROM the moment she could walk it was clear Victoria Higgins would want
to sing and dance for a living. She jigged, she jogged, she sang as loudly as
her tiny lungs would let her.
It was a path she pursued with vigour through childhood, a natural at her
dance and drama classes at primary school.
Then, just as she began her teenage years, fate dealt a terrible blow. Doctors
discovered her spine was progressively twisting into a tortuous S-bend.
They diagnosed Idiopathic Scoliosis, or curvature of the spine. Tina and
Steve Higgins were told their daughter might be confined to a wheelchair for
life.
No-one knows what causes the condition. It can result from disease or simply
posture or a habit of favouring one side of the body.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 28
`I knew something was not quite right because I used to brush her hair at
night and I noticed that one shoulder blade was much higher than the other,'
said Mrs Higgins, 44, of Bexhill, West Sussex.
`Her teacher had noticed that she had a definite waist on one side and
nothing on the other.'
In the old days it would have been simply a case of accepting the diagnosis
and allowing nature to take its inexorable, crippling course.
But today 16-year-old Victoria is back on her dancing feet thanks
[She went to hell and back]
to her own courage, the skill of orthopaedic surgeon Timothy Morley and the
twin titanium rods that must be ever-present in her back.
The procedure she underwent, in two operations at the Royal National
Orthopaedic Hospital in Stanmore, was extraordinary.
Doctors had to collapse one lung to reach the part of the spine they needed to
operate on. They also took one of her ribs to fuse it all together.
X-rays show just how elaborate the operations were, with the spine held in
place by the titanium rods and a series of screws and hooks.
Victoria, who is studying for her GCSEs at Bexhill High School, had to wear
a special protective brace for six months during which time she was told not
to put any stress on her back at all.
Then came the moment when it was removed and she was told she could
start exercising again.
‘After months of hard work I eventually returned to my song and dance
routines,' said Victoria, whose 46-year-old father is director of a shipping
and freight company,
`Now I'm having lessons and rehearsals six days a week. I have also taken
singing lessons and am hoping to get further opportunities with a London
theatrical management so that I can fulfil my dream of becoming a pop star
in a girl band.'
Her mother said: `She went to hell and back with the operations’
[report continues]
Obviously, the report is organised very much as chronological narrative, starting with
a scene-setting Orientation
FROM the moment she could walk it was clear Victoria Higgins would want
to sing and dance for a living. She jigged, she jogged, she sang as loudly as
her tiny lungs would let her.
It was a path she pursued with vigour through childhood, a natural at her
dance and drama classes at primary school.
which is followed by a Complicating Action
Then, just as she began her teenage years, fate dealt a terrible blow. Doctors
discovered her spine was progressively twisting into a tortuous S-bend.
They diagnosed Idiopathic Scoliosis, or curvature of the spine. Tina and
Steve Higgins were told their daughter might be confined to a wheelchair for
life. [… continues]
and, ultimately, by the Resolution
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 29
But today 16-year-old Victoria is back on her dancing feet thanks to her own
courage, the skill of orthopaedic surgeon Timothy Morley and the twin
titanium rods that must be ever-present in her back.
Generic indeterminacy
It should perhaps be noted that in this discussion I have largely used text examples
which were typical examples of a given genre type – i.e. they were typical Recounts,
Triumph Narratives, Exemplums, and so on. In saying that these are ‘typical’
examples I am relying on the research of Labov, Plum, Rothery and others who, after
examining large collections of texts, are able to say that a particular pattern of textual
organisation occurs with a high frequency across their data set. Thus, for example,
Labov found that the pattern of Orientation + Complicating Action + Resolution +
Coda occurred with great regularity in the 100s of texts he had collected. This is not,
however, to ignore the fact that there will still be story-telling texts which will not
precisely match the prototypes as formulated by these researchers. Instead, the
individual text will fall somewhere between two prototypes, having some features of
both. This was the case with the ‘Rum Puncheon’ report which we determined had
some of the qualities of both Recount and Triumph Narrative. As well, it needs to be
noted that different readers/listeners are likely to respond to, and interpret a given text
in different ways, according to their own reading position. That is to say, the way
readers interpret a given story text will be shaped by their own cultural background,
ideological position and life experiences. Consequently some readers may feel that
certain incidents constitute a Resolution (the overcoming of some threat/problem/evil)
while others will not interpret the incidents in this way. Accordingly, they are likely to
have a different view of the genre category of the text in question.
It must also be stressed that this list of story-telling types is not intended to be
exhaustive. There may be additional story-telling genres operating in the culture. And
when we move into other cultures, we need to be open to the possibility that entirely
different modes of story-telling (requiring their own labels and analyses) may be
operating there. Indigenous Australian Dreaming narratives are one such case in
point.
Conclusions
By this discussion, then, I have demonstrated that the modern English-language
event-based ‘hard news’ report has its own distinctive properties which set it apart
from other modes of more traditional story-telling. We saw that this is a development
of the early 20th century as reporters shifted from chronological narratives to today’s
lead-dominated, orbital structures. At the same time, we noted that there are still some
important points of similarity between the lead-dominated news report and older-style
narratives. Perhaps the most significant of these is the modern news item’s concern
with points of social instability (i.e. complicating actions) a property it shares with the
traditional Triumph Narrative.
This lead-domination was also observed to operate in at least some instances of
‘human interest’ stories. Against this, we noted one instance of a human interest
report which was chronological in its organisation and followed very much the
structural organisation of the traditional Triumph Narrative. The older style narrative
is being kept very much alive and well by the journalistic ‘colour’ writer.
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 30
Some texts and related questions for
developing skills in genre analyses
You may like to address the following series of questions by way of applying the
material set out above. If time permits, we will attend to these questions during one or
other of the workshop sessions.
Question 1
Consider the following news report. How is it organised structurally? For example,
does it feature a standard lead-dominated, orbital structure or something else? Are
there any points of connection with traditional narrative – i.e. with Recount, Triumph
Narrative, Exemplum or Anecdote? If so, what are these?.
Conference hotel blast leaves 3 dead, 32 injured and one missing
Thatcher defies IRA bombers
At least three people, including one Conservative MP and the wife of another
died yesterday in the bomb attack which devastated the headquarters hotel of
the Conservative Party Conference in Brighton, brought death perilously
close the Prime Minister and many members of her Cabinet and injured 32
people including Mr Norman Tebbit, the Secretary of State for Trade and
Industry.
Two of the dead were known last night to be Sir Anthony Berry, aged 59,
MP for Enfield, Southgate, Treasurer of the Household and a former
assistant editor of "The Sunday Times", and Mrs Roberta Wakeham, wife of
Mr John Wakeham, MP for Colchester South and Maldon and the
Government Chief Whip.
Thirty-two people, some of whom had been buried in the rubble for up to six
hours, were taken to the Royal Sussex Hospital in Brighton.
The massive explosion, thought to have been triggered by a timing device,
exploded in a fifth-floor front-facing room of the eight-story, 178-room
Grand Hotel, in Brighton where Mrs Thatcher and members of her party had
gathered for this year’s Conservative Party conference.
The blast cut a slice four storey's deep in the front central portion of the
building and sent an avalanche of rubble cascading down the main stairwell.
It was at 2.54am, and guests were still up and milling in the hotel lobby. Mrs
Thatcher was still awake in her first-floor suite working on her keynote
speech to yesterday's conference.
Mrs Thatcher's bathroom, which she had visited only moments before, was
wrecked, and windows and mirrors in her bedroom were shattered.
Mrs Thatcher and members of her Cabinet were led to safety through a rear
entrance and taken to Brighton police station.
The Provisional IRA yesterday claimed responsibility for the bomb in a
statement given to the Press Association in Belfast and in a telephone call to
the newsroom of Radio Telefis Eirann in Dublin. The Provisionals said they
had detonated a 100lb gelignite bomb "against" the "British Cabinet and the
Tory warmongers." The statement, signed "P. O'Neill", continued: "Thatcher
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 31
will now realize that Britain cannot occupy our country, torture our prisoners
and shoot our people in their own streets and get away with it.
The explosion occurred seven hours before the Tory conference was due to
hear its debate on Northern Ireland introduced by the new Northern Ireland
Secretary, Mr Douglas Hurd.
It also came in the wake of two major recent reverses for the IRA: the
discovery by Irish security forces of an important bomb factory at
Balbriggan, north Dublin and, and the seizure of a trawler carrying seven
tons of arms from the United States to the Irish Republic.
Early yesterday, Mrs Thatcher and her party managers determined that the
conference should go ahead in spite of the disaster. When the Prime Minister
walked into the hall at 9.30 in the morning she received a standing ovation
from delegates, before they marked the tragedy with prayers and two minutes
silence. She received another ovation, lasting a full ten minutes, yesterday
afternoon at the end of her speech in which she made it abundantly clear that
she and her Government would in no way be deterred by such acts.
(The Times – 13/9/84)
Question 2
Compare the above report with the following French version. In what ways does it
differ in terms of textual organisation and in terms of communicative effect? Can it be
classed as one of the sub-types of story telling set out in the notes?
Libération IRA-attack report
L'IRA revendique l'attentat de Brighton: 4 morts et 30 blessés
The IRA claims responsibility for the attack at Brighton - 4 dead and 30
wounded
GOD SAVES MAGGIE [original in English]
Deux heures cinquante du matin, hier, dans la petite ville de Brighton, au sud
de l'Angleterre.
[Five-past- two in the morning, yesterday, in the little town of Brighton, in
the south of England.]
Au bar du Grand Hôtel, les derniers parlementaires Conservateurs se
préparent à rejoindre leurs chambres.
[In the bar of the Grand Hotel, the last Conservative Party parliamentarians
prepare to return to their rooms.]
Margaret Thatcher, dans son cabinet de travail, met un point final au discours
de clôture du congrès annuel de son parti.
[Margaret Thatcher, in her office, puts the finishing touches to the closing
speech of the annual conference of her party.]
L'hôtel est habité par la presque totalité des membres de son cabinet, des
hommes politiques et des députés.
[The hotel is inhabited by almost the entirety of her cabinet, politicians and
deputees]
Soudain, c'est l'explosion. [Suddenly there is an explosion]
L'Armée Républicaine Irlandaise avait posé une bombe au troisième étage.
[The Irish Republican Army has planted a bomb on the third story]
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 32
Margaret Thatcher est vivante, mais quatre personnes sont tuées, trente
autres blessées, dont un ministre et un député.
[Margaret Thatcher is alive but four people have been killed, thirty others
injured including a minister and deputy.]
Après la stupeur, fidèle à son image, le 1er ministre britannique annonce que
le congrès continue.
[After the shock passes, faithful to her image, the British Prime Minister
announces that the conference will continue]
(Libération, 13-14 octobre: 1 1984).
Question 3.
Consider the generic structure of the following text. Can it be categorised in terms of
any of the story-telling sub-types outlined above?
1. MOTHERHOOD AND DRUGS AND ROCK 'N' ROLL DON'T MIX
The Sun September 21, 2000
SECTION: OPINION
HEADLINE:
BYLINE: Jane Moore
PAULA YATES was the celebrity chameleon. She tried desperately hard
to be all things to everyone, and ultimately it killed her.
Now three of her daughters are motherless; the fourth will grow up
knowing that both of her parents sufferedd squalid, unnecessary
deaths.
It could all have been so different, and indeed it was for a long,
long time.
She was the devoted mother of three young girls, married to the man
she had relentlessly pursued until he finally fell in love with her.
She was bright, witty and one of television's most professional
stars; always arriving on time and lighting up the studio with her
vivacity.
She didn't smoke or drink and was staunchly anti-drugs. According to
friends close to her then, her only vice was a double portion of her
favourite chocolate cake.
To her, the perfect day would be a little bit of work in the morning,
then a spot of hat shopping and off home to collect the girls from
school.
They were absolutely the centre of her world, and she would spend
hours of quality time with them, achieving the enviable balance
between having a successful career and being a good mother.
Then she met Michael Hutchence.
Friends of Hutchence never have a bad word to say about him, but
there's no doubt he was a dangerous and destructive influence on
Paula Yates's life.
He introduced her to drugs and "illegal" sexual practices, and
enthralled her to such an extent that she wanted to follow him all
over the world. It does not take a genius to know that motherhood and
P.R.R. White – News and Story Telling
p. 33
being a drug-taking rock chick don't mix - a fact that Meg Mathews
might do well to take on board.
There followed a well-publicised series of spats between her and Sir
Bob Geldof, most notably when she wanted to take the children out of
school early and haul them off to Australia for a long visit with
Hutchence.
Soon after, in 1997, Hutchence was found hanged in his hotel bedroom.
Her friends say she never got over his death and feel consoled that
she is now at peace with the man she called her "soulmate."
Let's not romanticise the sordid deaths of two talented, vibrant
people who had everything to live for.
True, Paula loved Hutchence, and true, she was utterly devastated by
his death. But thousands of people lose loved ones each year, yet
still find the strength to deal with their grief and carry on,
particularly if they have children. They have to.
Three years on, Paula showed no inclination to get a grip and deal
with her spiralling drink and drug problem.
It didn't help to be surrounded by well-meaning friends who made
excuses and spoke in hushed tones of her devastation at Michael's
loss.
The reality is that drugs are a depressant, and until she kicked
those she was never going to get her life back on track.
Her death was probably accidental, but I doubt that will be much
consolation to her children when they reach adulthood.
It remains that she was a much-needed mother of four who knowingly
gambled with her own life and lost.
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