Plots and Plotlessness

Do you think it's possible to have a good novel without a plot?

Part of me thinks this is a ridiculous question, like is it possible to make a cup of tea without water? or is it possible to get through a British summer without rain? But a small part of me has long felt that it ought to be possible to write a novel without a plot, because novels are meant to engage with reality (even books about aliens or talking rabbits), and real-life is not notable for its coherent plot lines.

Scarlett Thomas deals with this question brilliantly in Monkeys with Typewriters: How to Write Fiction and Unlock the Secret Power of Stories. She argues that just because novels (like film, theatre and other forms of fiction) deal with life, it doesn't mean that they offer facsimiles of everyday existence, and those that attempt to do so just don't work. She goes on to contrast the films Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and There's No Business Like Show Business, and shows how the former works because in it actions have consequences, which lead by a circuitous route to a satisfying conclusion, while the latter does not work because it rambles along from one random event to another, relying on things like car accidents, unmotivated alcohol addiction and un-loveable characters being loved...in fact, just the kinds of things that occur all the time in real life. In other words, you've got to follow the 'rules' of storytelling if you want to create an exciting and original story. Throw the rules out of the window and you're likely to end up with something shapeless and boring.*

This came as a revelation to me, and I kind of knew it was true whilst kind of wanting it to not be, on account of a subliminal fantasy, long-harboured, in which I stun the world with a Proustian** epic about people loafing about having psychologically-revealing thoughts. I was beginning to wonder why this wasn't working for me, and why it was proving so much easier to write about evil godfathers, talking owls and feisty girls on quests. At least Scarlett Thomas's argument provided me with a respectable explanation.

I thought I'd caught her out though when I got obsessed by the Cazalet Chronicles by Elizabeth Jane Howard - a series of five doorstopper-sized volumes which manage to be utterly compelling whilst dealing with nothing more, and nothing less, than the domestic lives of a large family. It was only when I finished the final volume a few weeks ago that I thought it over and realised it does have a really intricate plot structure, although its so cleverly made that you can't see it, and sometimes you feel you are reading a series of incisive character vignettes. The whole thing is driven by many of the age-old principles of storytelling: love is shown to be it's own reward, selfishness shrivels the soul, happiness and goodness turn out to be much the same thing...It's tempting to dismiss these as clichés  when I write them out as baldly as that, but aren't they some of the ultimate truths that we demand even from out most sophisticated stories, and hope against hope to rediscover in real life?


* You might say, Rules, what rules? but they do exist, and I'm not talking about any narrow-minded, nit-picking, how-to-write tips of the "never-use-more-than-one-adjective" variety. Think about it: can Elizabeth Bennett drop down dead in the middle of dancing a minuet with only ten pages to go before her long-awaited happy ending? It could happen in real life but in the romantic comedy world of Pride and Prejudice it is impossible, AKA, 'against the rules,' and if Jane Austen had gone and done it we would be justly outraged (not that she'd ever have found a publisher).

** À La Recherche du Temps Perdu does have a plot actually, but it unfolds at such a glacial pace that one might be forgiven for thinking it didn't.