There was a column on the Huffington Post today, referring back to a column in the New York Times, about that very question. I went back and read the NYT article and it struck me as kind of whiny. “Poor me, I can’t use my contrived plot device in the cellphone era.” The basic argument is that many moments in great literature are born out of misunderstanding and miscommunication, and these moments can no longer happen in the technologically advanced world that we live in today.
I call foul on this argument. It assumes is that the communication medium is the communication, and that is simply not true. Just because it is easy (well, easier) to get in touch with someone doesn’t mean that you will.
Let’s take the examples that the writers give, one by one. Casablanca – Ilsa could have sent Rick a message (presumably either text or voicemail) explaining why she stood him up at the train station. OK, fine. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Casablanca, so someone will have to remind me. Did Victor Lazlo come to Paris to find her, or did she just find out that he was alive? If he came to Paris to find her, when exactly would she have left Rick the message? “Sorry, honey, glad you’re not dead, but give me just a second to finish texting my new boyfriend.” If she was going to do that, she might as well have just gone to the train station and explained to Rick in person. [Actually, the same argument applies if someone else told her that he’s still alive.]
Misunderstanding in Shakespeare’s comedies could be cleared up with an IM – are you a boy or a girl. Again, if that is a possibility, what is stopping the character from asking straight out? Besides, in most of the cross-dressing comedies that I can think of, it doesn’t even occur to anyone that cross-dressing is happening until it is revealed at the end.
Romeo and Juliet could have texted each other about the faking-the-death plan. That one is a little bit trickier to get around, but just as technology could “solve” the problem, technology could make it continue. Juliet’s mother could have confiscated her phone. Romeo was in exile and “out of service area”. The phone had run out of battery (it’s not like they had any time to charge their devices in the three days they spent together).
And the one that is so clearly not a technological communication issue: Pride and Prejudice. If only Lizzie had been able to get in touch with Mr. Darcy! But to do what, exactly? “Sorry I turned down your proposal…now that I’ve seen your house I’ve changed my mind?” Clearly Pride and Prejudice would never work in the modern world. It’s not a story that has been redone over and over and over again, including 21st century versions at all.(/sarcasm)
I suppose my point is that good literature is character-based, not technology-based. Even in this world of almost instant and constant communication, misunderstandings and miscommunications are going to happen. Phones die, or get stolen, or run out of credit. Calls are dropped as you travel through a tunnel or through an old stone building. You travel out of the country without international service. You don’t have access to a computer to check your email or facebook or other messages. You don’t pick up on the emotional nuances of an email or a text. Voicemails are delayed. But what the story comes down to is character. If the character wants to get in touch with someone, they will find a way, whether it’s 2009 or 1809 or 509. Complaining that today’s technology makes writing good literature impossible just shows a lack of creativity.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/12/weekinreview/12richtel.html?_r=1
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kim-stolz/is-the-internet-ruining-e_b_186041.html
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