Themes: What Are They, Really?
Whenever someone writes a story, it’s about something. That may seem self-evident; obviously a story has a plot and characters whose actions impel them toward certain goals. What isn’t as obvious is that those goals express themes.
Wait a second here. Themes? Those controversial things ideas that bog down a story and make it preachy and boring? Those things which you had to write tortuous papers about in high school and college? That made English class a thing to be dreaded?
Well, not exactly. It’s not really possible to write a story without a theme, because the theme is just that – what the story is about. Sure, you can have complex, political or religious themes. Sure, you can throw out a heavy-handed message, or deal deftly with a complex issue. But at heart, every story is about something, because otherwise there would be no story.
It may be as simple as “it’s good to explore the universe”. It may be as complex as a deep investigation into the politics of slavery. But themes are what people connect to, what speak to them in the story. Of course, you can also have sub-themes that either support the main theme or explore another facet of the story, but you don’t have to do that. You can go with the simplest themes and create wonderful stories. You can make a bad story with deep and complex themes. What you do with the story is as important as what the story is about, and will enhance or detract from the theme(s).
As humans, we see meaning in things; it’s hardwired into our brains. Stories are what we use to make sense out of our lives, our experiences. When we connect to a story, it’s because it speaks to us about our own lives. We are metaphorical creatures, and stories are the ultimate metaphors. When we see a character striving for revenge, or for redemption, or for love, they help us understand our own striving for these things. We watch how a character deals with such things and silently study how they get through them, or how they fail. We critique how they move through them, and cheer them on when accomplish what satisfies our own sense of rightness.
And those are themes: revenge, redemption, love, etc. It really is that simple.
Themes aren’t always conscious. In fact, they’re often unconscious. All people don’t sit down to write a story saying, “I want to write on this theme.” They may have an idea for a plot, or a character, or a setting they want to bring to life. Certainly some authors do start with theme, but there are as many ways of writing as there are writers (or maybe more). Many simply want to create wonderful escapism that people can read and enjoy. There is no wrong way of creating a story; the final product is what will stand or fall on whether it succeeds in connecting readers to its separate elements.
My own writing journey began with my incorporating specific themes into everything I wrote, completely unintentionally. As I’m a character-driven writer, who almost always starts with the elements of personality, I was unaware of what I was doing. I spent a lot of time on the other story elements, but didn’t really consider theme.
But after a bit of this, I started noticing a pattern. There were several thematic elements that continued to crop up in almost everything I wrote; I didn’t seem to be able not to write them. As I moved into my twenties, I started to understand why I continued to add those themes; I started to understand myself better, to know what drove me, and in turn to know what drove my writing. After all, not everyone connects to every theme. If you are a person who simply cannot understand revenge, “Hamlet” may leave you cold. If you’re a person who doesn’t like the idea of exploration, “Star Trek” may not be your cup of tea. Though themes tend to be universal, that doesn’t mean that every member of the human species will connect to every story. There is a complex interaction between the reader and the words that makes a theme powerful or weak.
After recognizing those things I couldn’t prevent myself from writing about, I made a decision to consciously include them, rather than have them pop up unintentionally. That way I had more control, and wasn’t simply flailing about with an unconscious agenda. I think that decision has enriched my works, though of course it’s up to the reader to decide whether they agree. But I’m glad to know about these themes in my work, because as I know myself better, I understand my characters – and perhaps even my readers – a bit better.
Stories teach us what it means to be human, with all of humanity’s strength, pettiness, weakness, evil, and potential for greatness. And whether the story has simple or complex themes, they work to help us understand ourselves and the world we do live in. And that’s a powerful thing.