The movie Big Fish (2003) tells the story of the misunderstanding and love between a son, Will (played by Billy Crudup), a UPI reporter, and his father, Edward (played by Ewan McGregor and Albert Finney), a storyteller who captivated people with his extraordinary tales.
Will’s father, who was inherently curious, was a born storyteller. He would narrate to his son the events he experienced while growing up and traveling as if they were amusing fairy tales. Edward would boast that he was so extraordinary that he tore through the entire hospital as soon as he was born and claimed he grew faster than others due to an inexplicable “growth disease” as a child. He exaggerated his school days, saying he was the problem solver for everything and a versatile sportsman. His life was full of adventures that were anything but ordinary, in addition to the embellished tales of his childhood. His stories were limitless, from the friendship he formed with a giant in a cave, a witch’s glass eye that showed his death scene, the circus ringmaster who was a werewolf, to the connection he had with a big fish he met in a mysterious lake. Later, as Will sits by his father’s bedside, he acknowledges that his childhood was happier thanks to his father’s stories, and that many people found comfort in them. However, he gradually grows tired of his father’s tales. Will assesses his father’s life as follows:
“My father’s stories are 80% lies and 20% exaggeration. (In telling the story of my father’s life, it’s impossible to separate the fact from the fiction.)”
The creators of Big Fish describe their film as a story about “a very special happiness that arises when lies and truths meet.” When lies and truths meet, the result is inevitably a lie, as lies contain a part of the truth. The fact is, we do not have a way to accurately express what we have experienced. Language itself is like that—words are merely symbols for feelings and agreements for expression. As Osho Rajneesh, the author of Osho’s Zarathustra, questions, “If someone who has experienced the truth wants to speak nothing but the truth, he would end up saying nothing. In that case, silence is the only means of expression. But who could understand silence?” A story is an act of expressing what we think through words, writing, or actions. With these means, it’s impossible to accurately reproduce reality, whether in terms of time or method. Even if we could, if we tried to express everything we’ve experienced, it might turn into a really boring and tedious story. Ruth Bernstein points out that “the essence of writing is not in arranging words on paper but in selecting and discarding the unnecessary.” In the end, all writing and speech can only embody certain aspects of reality.
In addition to the limitations of our means, we don’t accurately remember what we’ve experienced, so we add our interpretations, and as a result, everyone ends up telling a little lie. When wrapped in 2% exaggeration, like Edward, Will’s father, a lie is inevitable. As our experiences undergo the processes of memory, interpretation, and exaggeration, there will always be a gap between what we actually experience and what the other person perceives. If the other person’s experiences or knowledge differ from ours, it might turn into something entirely different. Of course, understanding such human traits, we possess the wisdom to appropriately adjust and accept these differences.
Everyone lives while telling a few unintentional lies. Even if someone lies deliberately, it is usually not with malicious intent. Most people recognize the positive aspects of lying. While it’s important to tell the truth, if the truth were to be revealed freely and spontaneously, it could lead to awkward situations. The so-called “naked truth” can bewilder many people and even bore them. In cases where truth itself is not welcomed, Annette Simmons, the author of The Story Factor, says, “A story is like clothing the truth in warm clothes.” A warm story, recreated through imagination, can reach others’ hearts more easily than the truth. Truth can sometimes be bland or too complex, and if communicated as it is, it may seem lacking or confusing. Therefore, people transform the truth they know into stories by altering it slightly.
Jacob, the protagonist of Jacob the Liar, lies for the sake of others. The stories he creates are almost a form of creation. He goes as far as peering into a German camp to fabricate vivid news, making up stories about the defeat of the Germans, the intervention of American troops, and even the visit of famous American musicians and singers like Benny Goodman and the Andrews Sisters to Europe. Such death-defying activities could only be called creations. Although all creations come with pain, as in Jacob’s story, we humans love to tell stories. We not only love creating stories but also love hearing them. Why is that? Stories do not aid our survival and, if anything, could lead us away from the truth we need.
As mentioned before, humans are stronger in inductive reasoning than in calculations. We have the ability to create stories based on a few experiences. This ability seems to arise from the fact that our existing knowledge and experiences are well connected in a network, as previously mentioned. A single fact or thought triggers thousands of existing thoughts, creating a new network of ideas. This can be considered the source of our imagination. In some sense, creating stories is a process of constantly changing and strengthening the network of thoughts. Though the scale may differ, this ability is present in everyone. All humans possess imagination. In “Knowing Oneself” (知己), “imagining” is a kind of activity where one spreads the wings of imagination without any constraints. In “Knowing Others” (知彼), “inferring” is another kind of “imagining,” where one tries to find the unseen parts based on what is visible. And “Knowing Both” (知彼知己), “imitating” involves creating something creative and valuable using imagination. “Story-making” is one such creative activity.
Ultimately, this is how our brain functions. We remember information obtained through experiences better than knowledge acquired from books. It’s difficult for knowledge or information to be remembered independently, but if it’s connected to related knowledge, it can be stored for a longer time. Even the smallest experience is bound to include various kinds of knowledge or information. Since the beginning, humans have accumulated knowledge in this way. With the development of language and the invention of writing, we’ve written and acquired knowledge more efficiently and extensively. However, true knowledge may only be gained through one’s own experiences.
Today, it is nearly impossible to experience everything necessary to obtain the knowledge we need. Though reading is considered indirect experience, even this can only be effective if it’s composed as a story, similar to our direct experiences. Fragmented knowledge must be linked with other knowledge by any means to be sustained. Even the knowledge we already possess is reinforced through our own experiences or through stories like novels or movies, becoming part of us. Only such knowledge becomes what we know and can apply in daily life. Just knowing the principles of physics doesn’t make us wiser in life for the same reason. Ruth Bernstein mentions in the introduction of Sparks of Genius the case of a student who is good at mechanics and physics but struggles to open an old hinged door. This is because he failed to connect the theories he learned with the physical principles of the real world. Lee Seung-heon, the author of Enhance Your Brainpower, emphasizes that “Our brain remembers experiential information obtained through experience longer and more deeply than mere knowledge.” In fact, stories are one of the ways we learn.
In that sense, storytelling can be seen as the process of weaving together past experiences rather than merely recounting a single “past.” By adding design and color, and intertwining the warp and weft threads, the resulting story takes on a form entirely different from the original thread. Just as the phrase “I miss you” can be expressed more vividly as “I miss you desperately,” the technique of writing alone can portray longing more intensely. However, it seems that more than the methods or skills of expression, the quality of the material always determines the story. For example, novelists are often proud of their extensive reading and diverse life experiences. Even if they don’t openly boast, their stories reveal their depth. It is astonishing to think that one person crafted the many dialogues spoken by the multitude of characters in a single novel. It’s said that Romance of the Three Kingdoms has over 400 characters, to the point that reference books like The Three Kingdoms Dictionary or The Character Dictionary of the Three Kingdoms were published to help readers navigate the story. Although Luo Guanzhong is generally credited as the author of Romance of the Three Kingdoms, in reality, it is not solely his creation but a collective work that includes folk tales, legends, and recreations by various literati over 1,500 years since the Three Kingdoms period in China. On the other hand, the epic novel Land by Park Kyung-ni features around 700 characters. Consider how the author has brought each of these characters to life, making them feel as though she personally experienced each of their lives. We are captivated by the experiences, knowledge, and extraordinary imagination of novelists, which draw us into their stories. J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series, became a billionaire solely through her storytelling. Not to mention, there are countless others who have become stars and amassed wealth through storytelling in movies.
But it’s not just novelists or screenwriters who tell stories. We all create stories every day. Rolf Jensen, the futurist and author of The Dream Society, predicts that the society that will follow the information age will be the Dream Society. He diagnoses that the information society, based on facts, has already entered its twilight, and he foresees an era where emotion adds new value to human capabilities. Companies will grow based on stories and myths, selling not products but stories. Tom Peters, a management consultant and author of Re-imagine!, echoes this sentiment, saying that the future business will not be about selling goods or services, but about selling experiences. However, the significance of stories in our lives is not something unique to the present day. The Greek philosopher Plato, active around 400 B.C., said, “Those who tell the stories rule society.” This suggests that perhaps the reason storytelling is more emphasized today is that basic human needs have been somewhat satisfied due to material abundance and overflowing information. It may also mean that it has become more challenging to persuade people.
In any case, capable salespeople, entrepreneurs, and politicians all captivate people with stories. A skilled salesperson can turn even a simple product explanation into an engaging story. In corporate marketing, storytelling is already playing an active role under the name “storytelling marketing.”
Marketers are eager to craft stories around their products. Some even turn the product development process or the experiences of the company’s founder into stories. Hyundai Heavy Industries, for example, uses an advertisement featuring its founder, Chung Ju-yung, giving a special lecture at a university, to tell the story of how he established the shipyard with nothing but a sandy beach and blueprints, securing funds abroad and winning contracts with entrepreneurial spirit. The European bottled water company Evian uses the story of a nobleman in 1789 curing his illness by drinking underground water in the small Alpine village of Evian as part of its brand-strengthening strategy. The online shopping mall Oneaday (www.oneaday.co.kr) creates stories, essays, or comics for each product they sell. Corporate leaders meet their employees and customers with visions and strategies crafted into stories. Even Bill Gates of Microsoft is quite a storyteller. Whenever a new version of Windows is released, he teases the next version, providing the media with intriguing stories. Moreover, he himself becomes a subject of the story, as evidenced by how often we refer to him in our discussions. Howard Gardner, a psychology professor at Harvard University, says, “The leader of our time is none other than the storyteller.” Indeed, the great politicians in history were all storytellers. A politician’s competitiveness lies in who can turn their vision into a story that resonates most deeply with the public. Winston Churchill of Britain, U.S. President John F. Kennedy, and General MacArthur are prime examples of master storytellers. Although Korea has had presidents who were good storytellers, they did not all see their stories through to the end.
Edward, Will’s father in Big Fish, is also an engaging storyteller. Though somewhat outlandish, people like Edward because of his stories. We, too, encounter storytellers around us. It seems that they possess the ability to make even the same story more vivid and interesting. A story must be interesting. But what does it mean for something to be interesting? Fundamentally, it’s related to our desires, but neuroscientists and psychologists say it’s about “newness.” Newness means something that is different from what we expect. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a story about new information or experiences. A different perspective, a shift in position, or a change in the background can all create new stories.
Of course, even the concept of fun can vary slightly from person to person, but it can generally be divided into two types: one is the intellectual pleasure derived from deep thought, and the other is the simple pleasure experienced when faced with something funny or absurd. On June 8, 2004, the Dong-A Ilbo (www.donga.com) published a scientific article about the results of a joint research team from Korea University, Seoul National University, and Sungkyunkwan University, led by Professor Kim Sung-il of Korea University’s Department of Education. They reported that the brain reacts differently when experiencing pleasure and that the areas of the brain activated vary depending on the type of pleasure. Here’s a riddle they used in their experiment: A centipede lost a bet and went to run an errand. A long time passed, and the centipede didn’t return. Why? If the answer is “because the centipede walked slowly,” it’s not funny because it’s what most people would have expected. But how about this: “The centipede was still tying the laces on its 23rd shoe.” This response stimulates the knowledge that centipedes have many legs and evokes the emotional pleasure of imagining the comical scene of it struggling with so many shoes. Human nature, which seeks novelty, rejects simplicity and responds to the new. Liking new things also reflects a desire to differentiate oneself and grow faster than others. Therefore, the more someone yearns for growth, the less they tolerate boredom and the more they seek novelty.
Novelty itself is a product of imagination. However, as has been repeatedly emphasized, creating an interesting story doesn’t mean you have to invent everything from scratch. In most cases, simply twisting things a little to create a unique perspective is enough. Some people say that literature is the work of filling in the gaps between existing writings. They claim it’s not about creation but about repeating what others have written in a different form. Countless love stories are being created, but the archetype of their content remains largely unchanged. They are merely being recreated in various forms. Romeo and Juliet is a tragic love story caused by the division between their families. The movie Love Story, released in 1970, deals with a love story involving terminal illness, but the added intrigue comes from the fact that it is essentially a love story between a man and a woman of different social statuses. In Love Story, the male protagonist Oliver comes from an incredibly wealthy family, while Jenny is the only daughter of a poor family living with her widowed father. The love story of Romeo and Juliet serves as the prototype for many other love stories.
Disney’s successful animated films Mulan, Aladdin, and Pocahontas drew their materials from Chinese folklore, Arabian tales, and Native American stories, respectively. Although they were recreated to suit contemporary sensibilities, the core plot of the story remains the same. It seems that Hollywood’s movie studios feel they have reached their limits in repeatedly reconfiguring their stories. Judging by their increasing interest in Asian stories, this might be the case. The 2006 movie The Lake House, starring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock, is a remake of the Korean film Il Mare. The Hong Kong movie Infernal Affairs was adapted into the Hollywood film The Departed. In addition to these, stories like My Wife Is a Gangster, My Sassy Girl, Hi, Dharma, Marrying the Mafia, and Jail Breakers have been sold to Hollywood, where they are being transformed into new stories. If you can’t find anything new in your own domain, looking elsewhere, like the people in Hollywood, is one option. And if you can’t find anything new anywhere on Earth, going back in time to the past is another option. After all, what’s old might be “new” to people today. In this way, although the form may differ, stories, like other creative activities, continue to “evolve.”
The important thing is not to simply repeat what already exists. As mentioned, fixed ideas are the only hindrance to our imagination, so a new perspective might stimulate creativity. Bernd Schmitt, a professor at Columbia University and author of Experiential Marketing, compares fixed ideas to the sacred cow in Hinduism and calls us “Sisyphus,” cursed to roll a boulder up a mountain every day. To be creative, he says, we should be not Sisyphus but Odysseus, who overturned ten years of war with one Trojan horse. That’s how interesting stories are made. Although I may not know much about the art of storytelling, it seems there are a few principles besides novelty for creating interesting stories.
One of those principles might be that the message you want to convey should be simple and clear, and the storyteller should be confident in the story they are telling. The more powerful and moving a story is, the simpler the message tends to be. This is likely because the story itself carries strong interest and a compelling theme. Conversely, the less interesting the story, the longer it takes to embellish, and the more it requires cosmetic touches. Especially when time is limited, simplicity and clarity become essential virtues. The most famous speeches worldwide are all known for their brevity. Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, known for the phrase “Government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth,” took less than five minutes to deliver. Similarly, John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address in 1961, exactly 100 years after Lincoln became president, in which he said, “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country,” was only 15 minutes long.
A simple message leaves space for the listener to interpret it in their own way. Although simplicity may imply a disconnect from reality, it is important because it allows each person the freedom to fill in the gaps. Just as we might feel stifled in a garden filled with trees and flowers without any empty space, yet find true beauty in a modest countryside garden, or feel moved by a truly good poem. We need to have confidence in the stories we tell. Conversely, we shouldn’t easily tell stories in which we lack confidence. A salesperson who is confident in the product they are selling naturally exudes energy when telling their story. Annette Simmons, the author of The Story Factor, shares the story of how Whirlpool trains its salespeople by having them live for a week in homes filled with their products. Like any other creative work, a good story comes from confidence gained through long preparation.
We are all novels in our own right. The same goes for those around us. There isn’t a person without a story, and everyone has a dramatic story to tell. However, Timothy Wilson, in Strangers to Ourselves, points out that the story we know about ourselves might not be our true self. Few people know their true story, even without considering autobiographies that might be exaggerated. This is because we all repackage our past stories to align with our current consciousness. Almost everyone carries some degree of sadness and pain within their hearts. Such stories, if remembered often, might gradually become even sadder. So, why not reframe those wounds into the stories we wish to tell? After all, it’s not as if we can recall every detail of the situation accurately. One example could be turning a difficult experience into a story about how it was a training ground to make you stronger.
We are novels created by the stories of our past, but we are also the authors of the stories of our future. According to Timothy Wilson, such “story-making” should not be done solely by our consciousness but in collaboration with our unconscious mind. In that case, it’s necessary to converse with our unconscious regularly, especially when we encounter anger and despair. If we find ourselves feeling unnecessarily upset or angry, we might ask ourselves, “Why are you upset again?” or, when we don’t get what we want, say, “I’m not failing; I’m learning how to overcome failure,” just like in SK’s corporate advertisement.
“Those who tell the stories rule society.” ~ Plato
답글 남기기