The Prologue: A Love/Hate Story
by Elizabeth Solar
During these strange and uncertain days, a heaviness has overtaken this writer as I try to resolve a burning question: To prologue, or Not to prologue? Through my novel’s three drafts, one of the consistent structural elements has been the inclusion of a prologue. Why? Because in today’s literary landscape, the prologue has been as welcome – and may be known to cause – acid reflux for many an agent and reader. Why? Because most of them are bad. Prologues are the literary equivalent of Rodney Dangerfield: They get no respect.
Negative press aside, the prologue’s raison d’etre is to tell an earlier story that connects to the main story. It may explain, or hint at key information that doesn’t follow the timeline of the rest of your book.
A quick primer on the types of prologues.
1. Background/History – As you might guess, this type gives some background to events that have occurred before the beginning of your story and have importance to events going forward.
2. Different Point of View – Novelists tend to minimize POV’s, and if that’s the case this type of prologue is helpful when another character’s perspective (outside the protagonist, for example) helps bring needed insight to provide a foundation for the story.
3. Protagonist (Past or Future) – This type of prologue might reveal a pivotal moment for the protagonist, either in the post or the future, or establish some type of defining moment.
The argument for avoiding a prologue for your book. Their out of fashion, and most literary agents hate them. They have the same impulse I have at the prospect of eating gas station sushi. They figure it can’t be good, so they dismiss it outright. Needless to say, since agents and publishers eschew the use of a prologue, they encourage writers to do the same.
Readers often skip past the prologue, in the same way most of us pass up crudité to get to the lamb skewers or bacon-wrapped anything at a cocktail party: Let’s just skip to the good stuff. Sometimes a brilliant prologue, even if it is read, leads to a perfectly mediocre novel. In that case, you’ve just ticked off your reader by making a literary promise you can’t keep.
Prologues might be a catch all for a variety of literary crimes: The massive info dump, gorging each page with filler that does little to enhance your story, or may best be served in bite-sized portions through your novel. What about the prologue that has has absolutely nothing to do with your main story? Or one that solely provides ‘ambience.’ Now you’re just being coy, or showing off, and no one likes show-off. If your prologue doesn’t relate to, enhance or propel the main plot, it’s time for a re-write.
We live in an age of short attention spans. Remember the good old days when we said someone possessed the attention span of a gnat? Readers are not going to linger and may decide to stay with your story or bail within seconds so please don’t bore them by waxing poetic or cramming early pages with a wall o’ words. Keep your prologue brief, shorter than your chapters. Most prologues span from one paragraph to five or six pages, so take your cues from there.
In short, prologues are often considered lazy, cheap, misleading, or surprise, surprise – your first chapter. Proceed with caution.
in the spirit of equal time, let’s turn to the positives of writing a prologue. A good prologue provides information that’s important to understand the plot, usually shares action that occurs outside the main story. It may, but often does not include the protagonist. I have used prologue as a device to understand the motives and establish a truth that’s not obvious in the main story.
Other effective uses of the prologue include a quick look at some important background information that doesn’t need additional flashback, dialogue or memories that might interrupt action later in the book. It could also offer information the reader might not otherwise discern from the plot. The prologue might introduce an antagonist, a philosophy or religious belief important to the plot and setting.
A strong prologue might foreshadow future events, which creates suspense for the reader, and harness their attention by getting them to ask questions before they hit chapter one. Attention and engagement is what is all about. Tempt the reader with an enticing prologue, and you’ll have them eating out of your hand for the next 300 or so pages.
Perhaps the best kind of prologue is the stealthy kind. In Henry James’ Turn of the Screw, the narrator sets the reader up for a horror story, then hands the rest of the book off to the governess. You don’t have to label your prologue a prologue. Use a date, a setting or an idea to set it off, and save yourself the prologue walk of shame. I’m a huge fan of this idea, sneaky as it is.
Prologues are a time-honored device. Every Greek tragedy, Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Nabokov’s Lolita, Tennessee William’s The Glass Menagerie, Sara Gruen’s Like Water for Elephants, Richard Russo’s Empire Falls. All brilliant, evocative and enriching to their tale, and totally deserving of some love. : Some food for thought as this writer strives to craft the same.
