On Dialogue

Say what you will about the veracity of A Million Little Pieces and its author James Frey, the man knows how to write. And even the very first page of A Million Little Pieces attests to it as Mr. Frey for my money nails one of the most difficult aspects of narrative: dialogue. Why is dialogue so hard? Most don't know how to use it. Most beginning writers use dialogue to advance the plot when the most effective use of dialogue is really to reveal characterization. The sharpest, most keenly observed and thus most compelling execution of dialogue does this seamlessly and effortlessly, though I grant you, it's no easy trick, but Frey manages it. The opening page of A Million Little Pieces contains, hands-down, some of the best and most memorable dialogue I have ever read and it's no wonder why so many were absolutely riveted by this story from word one. Mr. Frey's dialogue is concise (he doesn't waste words), purposeful (again he doesn't waste words), and very clearly and immediately reveals character. My favorite thing about this opening dialogue is that it's delivered sans quotation marks.

So without further ado...

I wake to the drone of an airplane engine and the feeling of something warm dripping down my chin. I lift my hand to feel my face. My front four teeth are gone, I have a hole in my cheek, my nose is broken and my eyes are swollen nearly shut. I open them and I look around and I'm in the back of a plane and there's no one near me. I look at my clothes and my clothes are covered with a colorful mix of spit, snot, urine, vomit and blood. I reach for the call button and I find it and I push it and I wait and thirty seconds later an Attendant arrives. 

How can I help you?
Where am I going?
You don't know?
No.
You're going to Chicago, Sir.
How did I get here?
A Doctor and two men brought you on.
They say anything?
They talked to the Captain, Sir. We were told to let you sleep.
How long till we land?
About twenty minutes.
Thank you.

Although I never look up, I know she smiles and feels sorry for me. She shouldn't. 

In this snippet we meet a man who in many ways is resigned  to his fate, feels he almost deserves it--there's no anger or any strong emotion at all; he's not mortified or distraught or even anxious. At most, he's just mildly confused by a set of circumstances that might send most others over the edge. And that tells us a lot about his characterization. And it's all there in very spare, efficient dialogue. And this is not dialogue that's needed to advance the plot. The next bit after this dialogue reads as follows:

A short while later we touch down. I look around for anything I might have with me, but there's nothing. No ticket, no bags, no clothes, no wallet. I sit and I wait and I try to figure out what happened. Nothing comes. 

Now here's how the first page would read without the dialogue:

I wake to the drone of an airplane engine and the feeling of something warm dripping down my chin. I lift my hand to feel my face. My front four teeth are gone, I have a hole in my cheek, my nose is broken and my eyes are swollen nearly shut. I open them and I look around and I'm in the back of a plane and there's no one near me. I look at my clothes and my clothes are covered with a colorful mix of spit, snot, urine, vomit and blood.

A short while later we touch down. I look around for anything I might have with me, but there's nothing. No ticket, no bags, no clothes, no wallet. I sit and I wait and I try to figure out what happened. Nothing comes.

The narrative doesn't really miss the dialogue. And the information we do get in the dialogue can be given elsewhere in another way. The point is that the narrative doesn't fall apart without the dialogue, except in one way. I care less about this man. I know less about him. I'm less inclined to see him through his journey, simply because he's less interesting to me.

And why am I interested in this solitary man? Because he is clearly alone in a set of extraordinary circumstances and not freaking out. There's also no sense of self-pity or despair (at least not in a traditional or cliche sense), he's not even self-deprecating, and the lack of these elements in and of itself is refreshing. This man is almost detached from reality and he also reads as a man with nothing left to lose and thus honest. No it's no wonder this story gripped us all, "fooled" us all. It's damn good writing. It's damn good characterization and we feel like we're getting an insider's take on that proverbial car wreck we can't take our eyes off of from someone who wouldn't lie to us because he can't be bothered to lie to us. He can't be bothered to think beyond where the plane he's on might land. This dialogue tells me so much about this man and makes him interesting, someone to watch. To a lesser extent I also can't take my eyes off the Flight Attendant. How calmly she answers the questions of a disheveled man sans his four front teeth and a hole in his cheek. What a way to open! And what a fantastic use of dialogue. Say what you will about Frey as a person, there are lessons to be learned from his book.