Chekhov's pistol, how to use this principle of writing

When I first heard the term " Chekhov's gun" I admit it I assumed it was a Russian firearm, only to find out later that I was completely off track. Chekhov's pistol is actually a double-edged sword (pun intended). Before explaining, let's define this principle of writing a little better.

What is Chekhov's pistol?

Chekhov's pistol is a simplification of a concept introduced by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, famous and prolific Russian writer, author of short stories and plays, one of the protagonists of 19th century literature . It's best summed up in his own words:

“If a gun appears in history, sooner or later it will fire”

or also

"You should never put a loaded shotgun on stage unless it's about to go off. It's wrong to make promises you don't intend to keep.

And:

“Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If in the first chapter you say that there is a shotgun hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must shoot. If it's not going to be used, it shouldn't be hanging there.

The main message that Chekhov wants to communicate is that in a story there must be no elements that are superfluous to the plot . Precisely for this reason, if any element is presented in the writing (such as a gun), this at a certain point must find a raison d'etre (in the case of the gun, precisely, to shoot). Attention: this is not a rule valid only for objects, but also for characters, conflicts, environments, information ; if they are inserted into the story, they must have a function.

However, like all principles of dramaturgy , this too must be understood as a general indication, and not applied in a slavish way . Otherwise, the risk is that the result is trivial or too obvious for the reader, and that the story lacks inspiration and literariness , resulting in only a continuous interlocking of writing rules . Forcing meaning on each narrative element would also risk making the writing predictable and pedantic.

The blade of the sword

So why do I say Chekhov's pistol is a double-edged sword? Because the concept works both as an editing tool and as a plotting device . Let's take a look.

While editing

Chekhov's Pistol is a great lens to view your work when it comes time to edit your first draft. We can use this handy tool to determine what to keep and what to cut.

The first place to use the sword is the scene description .

Look at each item described and ask yourself these questions:

• Does it advance the story?
• Will it come into play later?
• Does it really add useful information to the scene or is it just a showcase?
• Is there a detail missing that will be important later?

I'm not saying cut everything bare-bones. We still have to lay the groundwork for creating a sense of place, time, and mood, but often we (or at least I) tend to overshoot.

These same points also apply to the character description .

When we list things like eye and hair color or specific items of clothing, there should always be a good reason to include these details.

The next context where we need to use our blade is the backstory .

This is usually where I end up making most of my cuts. My stories are very character driven, so I like to get to know them on a deeper level. As a result, my early drafts are always filled with far more information about the character's past than will actually come into play in the story. Here are some of the questions I ask myself when I review the backstories:

• Are the backstory details there just for me (as the author) to learn more about the character I'm writing?
• Does this detail inform how the character will react to a stimulus in the future?
• Is a future plot point based on these details?
• Is detail something the reader can get from context or action rather than description?

Again, I'm not saying cut everything non-plot related. We always need to build characters that readers can relate to or risk they won't care what happens to them. I'm just saying be judicious with information that doesn't drive the plot.

In short, following Chekhov's gun principle to the letter can cause the narration to err in realism (not everything that appears or happens in life ends up having an important role) and that it is completely devoid of symbolic or evocative elements that , even if they have no function in the plot, they can give a higher level of interpretation , or give a touch of lyricism.

Chekhov himself was aware of this: as Donald Rayfield , a professor and scholar of Russian and Georgian literature, pointed out in the play The Cherry Orchard , Chekhov himself presents two loaded guns that never fire, probably because they symbolize the theme of lack of action, which is central to the story.

Chekhov's gun principle should therefore be interpreted as an invitation to essentiality , not to get lost in elements for the pure sake of describing them (a typical mistake of those who are beginners with writing) if then the words spoken will not play a role , whether it is functional to the plot, symbolic or literary.

As a plotting tool

The texture is where I believe Chekhov's gun really shines. It all boils down to the idea of planting an object or detail that will play an important role later in the story. Think of it as a way to plant seeds that will sprout later or foreshadow things to come.

Chekhov's gun can be useful for introducing a surprise element (also called plot twist ) and making it more believable, the ideal is to make an object or element appear that already anticipates it many scenes before , without making it too obvious.

Again, the gun as an object is a very clear example. If the intended twist is that at some point someone shoots, the plot twist loses its effect if the gun is presented immediately before, or if the person is discovered to have had it only shortly before it is used. Instead, it is better if the gun is presented to the reader several scenes in advance, in a neutral context, or in which in any case this object is not the center of attention.

When it comes to twists and turns , in fact, failing the principle of Chekhov's gun can be a mistake, as in the case of the so-called deus ex machina , a redeeming element for the protagonist, which came suddenly and was too convenient to be credible. Which reader, after having feared for the fate of the protagonist for pages and pages, would be satisfied to know that he is saved only thanks to a gun that is in his hands at just the right moment?

On the other hand, however, in applying this principle it is important to be careful not to give particular emphasis to elements that can create false expectations: excessive attention paid to a firearm that is then never mentioned again in the story, or whose function is not so relevant, it risks making the narrative pact lose credibility .

This unless the writer's intent is precisely to mislead the reader : at that point we find as a possibility the use of the principle contrary to Chekhov's gun , namely the Red Herring , typically present in crime novels as a clue on which focuses the detective but that ends up being irrelevant. Its creation is by no means obvious: the difficulty in creating a Red Herring is in fact that of being able to weave it into the narrative without it being annoying for the reader when its irrelevance is discovered.

Chekhov's pistol versus MacGuffin's principle

In some ways, Chekhov's pistol may look similar to the MacGuffin , but the two principles work in very different ways. The MacGuffin's purpose is to advance the plot throughout the story, while Chekhov's pistol is a specific item that comes into play in a specific future situation.

Think of the MacGuffin as the car in which the characters travel. Chekhov's gun would be the squeal of the brakes that the protagonist was supposed to fix. The effects of that squeak occurs ten miles down the road when a pedestrian steps off the curb in front of the car and the brakes fail.

Building a Chekhov pistol in the narrative

As we have seen, for a plot twist to work, a key element must have been anticipated beforehand. But how to draw the right attention to an element to be filmed, without however making the reader suspect its function? The "trick" is in the right degree of detail introduced into its description .

Let's move away from our gun and take a vase for example: in describing the room in which it is found, one can only say that there is a vase placed on the table, but the reader will hardly remember its existence when the plot twist is reached. If, on the other hand, the features of the vase are described, and the flowers it contains, perhaps through the admiring eyes of the character who notices it, this object will be imprinted in the reader's memory without however appearing suspicious, thus not spoiling the surprise when the murder weapon will be found right inside the vase.

Another way to introduce a Chekhov gun is fortuitousness , such as the detective tripping over the vase placed on the ground in a corner, only to be reminded of its existence many scenes later. The important thing is that at its introduction the element is not the main focus of the scene: the detective then won't have to get hurt or tell others that he tripped, but forget what happened shortly after. But pay attention to the fact that the object (or the character, or the information) is coherent with the environment in which it is presented , otherwise its centrality will still catch the eye.

Introducing an element with the function of Chekhov's pistol requires a narrative skill that should not be underestimated. In fact, being a widely used technique , not only in novels but also in films and TV series , readers and viewers are very trained to realize the presentation of such an element. That's why presenting it without arousing too much suspicion even in the most experienced readers is not easy. In essence, Chekhov's pistol is well used when the twist causes the reader to exclaim "Ahh!": in fact, he remembers that element, but he hadn't imagined its role in the plot.

There are many tricks to insert Chekhov's gun into a narrative. However, they are all widely used, and for this reason it would be better to create variations on the theme . Some famous examples are the " Chekhov's Boomerang ", i.e. the case in which the gun has already fired once, but is unexpectedly reused again in history; the “ Chekhov's Gag ”, that is when the element is inserted in a comic context, and therefore apparently innocuous, to then lead to dramatic conclusions, and then again through the “ rule which will inevitably be broken ”: if some character communicates to a another rule, it is actually the writer who communicates it to the reader, because someone is sure to break it.

Some final considerations

No matter how you use Chekhov's pistol, it's a handy tool to keep in your tool bag. But just like any other writing tool, we have to be careful how we handle it. It is always possible to go overboard and cut off too much detail when editing using this meter.

Just as it is possible to plant too many seeds and crowd the garden when using it as a plot device. The more elements you insert, the more threads you will have to tie in the end. If you're like me, you might lose track of some of those threads and end up with some extra edits to deal with in proofreading.

I mean, in the end, it's just about finding a balance for your story.