L is for Litotes, and on ‘The Storyteller’ by Antonia Michaelis
Litotes, another strange name, and pronounced lie-toe-tease /laɪˈtəʊ.tiːz/! Litotes are figures of speech where the writer uses a double negative or negative wording to express the opposite meaning. It’s easier to explain with examples, such as, ‘not bad’; ‘not unattractive’; ‘I don’t hate it’; ‘I won’t be sorry’.
This choice of wording is often used in speech and tends to carry underlying meaning, often to the effect that the speaker/writer feels that using the positive would not accurately or appropriately reflect their thoughts or might even be too complimentary. Tone would also affect meaning, as ‘not bad’ could as easily mean ‘it’s fairly good’ as well as ‘excellent’, while ‘not unattractive’ might equally mean that the speaker finds the person very attractive but perhaps does not wish to make their thoughts so obvious.
Litotes therefore uses understatement to create an effect, forcing the reader/listener to read between the lines and take their cues from tone, body language, context, and the speaker’s culture and character. An interesting device, don’t you think? But not something a writer can use too often.
On Reading
I finished The Storyteller by Antonia Michaelis this week. As I indicated in previous posts, this book did not immediately grip me but the premise promised an interesting and unusual read so I persevered and I’m really glad I did.
The final third of the novel was just wow. SPOILERS AHEAD. Despite being a YA read, this novel tackles several difficult subjects, such as child abuse, drug trafficking, rape and suicide. The beauty of the novel is that the story involves a teenager trying to explain to a six-year-old sister the need to be on her guard, by narrating a fairy-tale which he invents. The fun part for the reader is linking the characters in the tale to the actual people the protagonists come in contact with.
As a teacher of teenagers, this novel drove home to me just how little we could actually know the students we teach, and though we might realise that something is not functioning as it should in their life, yet it’s rare that we become truly aware of the abyss they might be facing. And that is so frightening, because the consequences—like for the protagonist—could be tragic. The ending of the book is sort of predictable, but it still comes as a shock, leaving one with a feeling of sorrow that a teenager with such potential could so easily be derailed and destroyed thanks to the difficult circumstances in his life. This is a story I won’t quickly forget.