Stories, Storytelling and Us
Stories were always here to stay…
We all love stories. We read books, watch movies or shows, listen to podcasts or music, and reminisce with friends and family. We indulge in them. Our lives are intertwined with the stories we come across and the stories we become part of. Every interaction turns into a story, some worth sharing. And every story is unique, just as our lives are.
We live unique lives shaped by unique experiences. We might work in the same office, study the same subject at the same university, travel on the same bus every day, or walk the same path back home. We may have frequented the same cafe, gym, or, perhaps, the same markets every weekend. We might have read the same books, watched the same shows or listened to the same music. And yet, somehow, we live different lives, our own unique version of lives. And that’s because our choices vary ever so slightly. It could be how we like our coffee, the seat we choose on the bus, the food we eat daily, or even how we hold our books. At any given moment in time, my experience is different to yours. We view the world, people, and places slightly differently — different enough to make my story distinct from yours, thus making it unique and uniquely mine.
That’s why we all have stories to share, no matter what form they take. And just as our stories are unique, so is our storytelling style and medium. A story can be an autobiography, a song, or a painting as long as it enables us to describe what we are seeing, experiencing, or doing. The narrative, a reflection of what we remember and what we choose to share, is waiting to be turned into a book, a movie, or a performance piece. A canvas waiting to be filled in. And each of these stories is important.
Historically, orally narrated stories were one of the main modes of education. In the ancient Gurukul system in India, the Guru (teacher) shared his knowledge and ideas on philosophy, social science, politics, and spirituality in an oratory style. The Greek and Roman Philosophers discussed critical socio-politico-scientific topics in open agoras or forums to share and explore the depths of their knowledge. Modern-day lecture rooms combine this oratory method with visual aids (slides or boards) to explain concepts. Despite the technique and aids, the storytelling of the concept or idea enables faster knowledge dissemination and consumption. Narratives humanise notions that are otherwise difficult to comprehend. Philosophy is an example of storytelling that aims to explain the fundamental truth of life and relations. Mythological stories capture a society’s beliefs and cultural system, providing an insight into how life was perceived then.
Some stories, ideas or concepts become critical to communities. They are passed down through generations as tales of caution, values, history or beliefs. They evolve and change over time. Every storyteller adding their own experience and interpretations into the narration. Each story is localised, absorbing the cultural demands and needs. Some get immortalised in murals, oil paintings, literature, or performance art forms, capturing a specific version of the story at that time. The details are not relevant; it is the essence that becomes part of the ‘culture’. These stories were never designed to outlive the narrator. Still, they do because of how they are narrated, what the story conveys and how it is perceived.
On the other hand, some stories were designed to be preserved in the pages of history. Intending to be penned down from the beginning, these are influenced by the narrator and those who sponsored them as works of literature or art, becoming part of the ‘heritage’. But languages and symbolism evolve. Our vocabulary and our dictionaries adapt to current times and needs. Sometimes, specific connotations get associated with words, while some shed the multiplicity in favour of simple single-line meanings. Some words get lost as their associated object changes, whereas some interpretations of the word itself change. Each time a story is translated to make it accessible to a broader audience, it is rewritten in the semantics of the languages it is translated to. The text may have been simplified or understood differently by the translating author. Sometimes, the original language encapsulates a cultural belief that the translated language cannot explain. Thus, the stories initially designed to be preserved also grow and evolve. They get re-told, rewritten and re-interpreted, becoming versions (editions) of themselves. Capturing the storyteller’s point of view, this new version of the story is launched into the world yet again to be interpreted and understood slightly differently by the next group of people to come across it. The original story, both ancient and relevant, adapted to the present semantics.
“So you see, translators do not so much as deliver the message as they rewrite the original. And herein lies the difficulty- rewriting is still writing, and writing always reflects the author’s ideologies and biases.”
- Babel, R.F. Kuang
Some stories fade and get lost in time or interpretation. This happens when large groups of people stop narrating or recording them. Maybe because the story is irrelevant, challenging to understand or decipher, narrated in a lost language, or the group most connected to it has diverged. Sometimes, the concept of the story is alien and difficult to assimilate into the present-day reality. Or else, the story was never culturally appropriate and has finally been recognised as such. Some were not diverse and lost their significance in this global world. Not all stories were meant to survive. Some stories were written for that time and meant to operate within a given framework only. Some don’t need to survive the passage of time at all.
And then there are stories that cannot be changed. These are the fixed points in time in time-travel science fiction. They are made of factual and textual descriptions of events and incidents that shaped a period. They talk of the human condition, the decisions that led to the event, and the outcome of those decisions. These are critical points in a chronological narrative that cannot be undone and are what make the present the way it is, no matter the qualitative impact of the event. No version or narrative style can actually change the story itself- rather, it only shines different lights on different perspectives whenever retold.
Finally, there are stories that are etched into time, frozen in their original state, meant to last centuries. These are stories carved into stone, appearing in architecture and cities. Good or bad, these narratives aim to remain the same indefinitely, symbolising the power that created them. Produced at the intersection of history, people, and social structures, they witness monumental events or events of the people who sponsor these stories. They are reminders of what happened to humanity as a group and what could have happened. A golden statue above a dome, a carving on a pillar, a calligraphic inscription on a floor tile, a sculptural trail depicting scenes along a wall, a painted window, a specific stone, and a slanted roof- all coming together to capture and narrate the story. The power of the narrative is in the architecture of its layout and composition, its integration with the built and unbuilt, and its visibility and accessibility. These stories connect space and time, allowing us to explore our history of society and culture. They tell the story of how we (collective) viewed the world or how the world viewed us.
“We tell ourseves stories in order to live”
- Joan Didion
Stories are critical to our being. We view the world in stories, consume information in storytelling formats, and create stories. No matter what form they take or how much we choose to share, we now have the means to share them with the world or maybe just with our little circle. We might write books, journals, or blogs, but with our smartphones and social media platforms, we can also just share a photo. We can record snippets of our daily life or vlog about our holiday. Emojis, hashtags, words and quotes have become part of our everyday storytelling. The ease of it makes it palpable, prodding you to post something, ‘share your idea, share your life’. But now that we all have the means, how do we feel about it? Are we willing to share our story globally, on a platform that is learning from it and will most likely create its own (generative) stories? What is the future of storytelling, and what will we leave behind in our legacy for the next generation to read and listen to? That won’t stop us from telling the story, though.
Stories have always been here to stay. But in what form and what they mean, we can only predict and never know. Just like the stories and words that made them from our past have evolved, stories in the future may be associated with video snippets. Or maybe audio (oratory) stories make a comeback (podcasts and audiobooks, anyone?). The written language might hang around in the background. In any case, I’m willing to share mine. I mean, I wrote a whole blog about storytelling while mulling over my PhD and Instagram Stories.
Are you willing to tell yours?
