Hanuman Obhong : Showing

"'Showing' and 'Telling' are two words but two different meaning," the Moon talked about a talking point, "And why, why showing is usually better than telling? So, let’s see some illustrations about showing and telling.

• Telling means that you—the narrator, speaker or author—give your lesteners—or the readers—the conclusions and interpretations; you tell them what to think instead of letting them think for themselves.
• Showing means that you provide your listeners with enough concrete, vivid details so that they can draw their own conclusions.
• Telling is like giving the audience a secondhand report afterward.
• Showing lets the audience experience the events firsthand, through the five senses of the character.
• Telling is like reading about an accident in the newspaper the day after it happened.
• Showing is like witnessing the accident the moment it happens, hearing the tear gas was shot and the screams of the poeple being crushed.
• Telling summarizes events that happened in the past or gives general statements that don’t happen at any specific time.
• Showing lets the audience witness events in real time, in actual scenes with action and dialogue. We stay in the present, firmly rooted in the POV character’s experience.
• Telling is abstract.
• Showing creates a concrete, specific picture in the audience’s mind.
• Telling gives you facts.
• Showing evokes emotions.
• Telling is also called narrative summary.
• Showing is dramatization.
• Telling distances the audience from the events in the story and from the characters and makes them passive recipients of information.
• Showing involves the audience in the story and makes them active participants.

Now, try to imagine the following sentences

• 'Show us that she’s a spoiled little girl; don’t tell us!'
• 'Show us that he lives in a run-down apartment building; don’t tell us!'
• 'Show us that she’s angry at her friend; don’t tell us!'

Okay, I’ve told you what the difference is, let me show you by giving you an example:

Tina was angry.

This is telling. The author is handing readers a conclusion.

Tina slammed the door shut and stormed into the kitchen. “What the hell were you thinking?”

This is showing. It gives the readers the concrete actions and the character’s dialogue so that they can come to the conclusion that Tina is angry without the author stating it flat-out.

Telling isn't always bad, it definitely has its uses, but most of the time, you want to show. Why?

Think about why we read novels. Unlike readers of nonfiction, fiction readers don’t read to get information. They read to be entertained and to escape into another world.

The same is true for people who want to see a movie (not a documentary). Now imagine you are sitting in a movie theater, waiting for the movie to start, and instead, the person sitting next to you tells you all the interesting parts. I bet you wouldn’t be happy, right? You didn’t want to be told about the movie; you wanted to watch the movie for yourself and get so caught up in it that you forget everything else for a while. Well, readers are the same. They want to experience the story for themselves and share the characters’ struggles—and that can be achieved only with showing, not telling.

Telling doesn’t evoke images in the reader’s mind. It interprets the information for the reader and robs them of the opportunity to think and discover the story world for themselves.

Showing keeps readers actively engaged because they need to think about what they’re reading and interpret what’s going on rather than passively being presented with conclusions. That’s what draws them in and keeps them turning the pages because they’re actively asking questions and read on, curious to find out the answers.

So to fully immerse your readers into your story and make them experience the events along with the protagonist, you need to master the skill of showing.

Showing is art, but there actually is such a thing as too much showing. If you take the 'show, don’t tell' advice too far and show your readers every little detail, even the unimportant ones, your story will get bogged down.

Don’t overload your readers with long blocks of descriptions that might not even be important. Too many details distract the reader from the story and make your writing drag. For every sentence you write, ask yourself if your readers really need this piece of information. Does it contribute to the scene’s goal, reveal something interesting about your character, or move the plot forward? If the answers are no, leave out this piece of information.

Especially try to keep unimportant details out of your opening chapter. Don’t start your novel with mundane actions such as your character waking up and getting ready to go to work—unless something interesting happens to interrupt that routine.

In general, showing is great, but don’t go overboard or it will slow the pace of your story. Show what is important, and cut the rest."

"And so, the Sundara Kanda kept moving," the Moon resuming. "Hanuman the Vanara, decided to know the strengths and strategies of Ravana. There are four strategies for passable outcome, first, persuasion; second, bribery; third, sowing dissension, and fourth, open war. In this episode, he decided to go ahead with the fourth strategy. He said to himself, ‘I crossed the ocean to find Sita and I have found her, nobler than I had imagined, and sadder too. But I must not leave Lanka like a thief. I must make my presence felt. I must strike some fear into the hearts of these rakshasas. The best soldier is the one who achieves more than he was told to. ‘I have already done what I was sent for. I have leapt the waves, found Sita and given her the ring Rama sent. But how much more I will accomplish if I provoke the rakshasa army and discover how strong it is. How much cleverer I will be if I can meet Ravana face to face.’

He knew it was dangerous, but an inner voice urged him to be a little rash. Hanuman decided impulsively, ‘This asokavana must be Ravana’s favourite garden. That is why he has kept Sita here. Let me ruin this pretty garden. When Ravana hears of it, he will send his guard to attack me. When I crush that force, the Rakshasa will tremble on his throne. For if I can do this, and am only a messenger, what will happen to him when Rama arrives with Sugriva’s army and Jambavan’s?’

Growing vast in a moment, and roaring in the anger he felt at Sita’s ordeal, Hanuman began to tear the asokavana apart. He stirred whirlpools in the lily ponds, so they broke their banks and spilled over, muddying their crystal waters. He smashed down the carefully heaped rockeries. In no time, he devastated the asokavana. Resuming his little monkey’s form, he climbed on to the flat top of a stone pillar and sat waiting for word to reach Ravana. The rakshasis in the little temple had been startled awake by the commotion in the asokavana. They were terrified to see the great vanara, like a golden tempest, destroying the king’s garden. The birds that roosted in the garden rose into the sky in screaming swarms, like clouds of doom. The deer, peacock and other tame creatures dashed about in panic.

The rakshasis ran to Sita, crying, ‘Who is this creature?’ But Sita replied, ‘He must be a rakshasa, who can assume any form he likes. I know nothing of him and I fear him as much as you do.’ Then they fled to Ravana with their tale of the monkey who had wrecked the asokavana. ‘We saw Sita with the creature,’ they said, ‘but now she denies knowing the monkey. He may be any of your enemies’ servant, Kubera’s or Indra’s, come to spy on your city. Or he may be Rama’s messenger, for he sat talking to Sita. If you don’t believe us, lord, come and look for yourself at the asokavana.’

Tears of rage burned Ravana’s crimson eyes. He clapped his hands and sent a company of his palace-guard to deal with Hanuman. Ravana sent eight hundred Kinkaraas, skilled in the use of all kinds of weaponry. They looked like dark clouds touched by lightning. Kinkaras assailed Hanuman with maces, hammer and sickles, all kinds of sharp weapons, spears and javelins, including kitchen knives. They did not use tear gas because they would be whistled by FIFA. They then surrounded the monkey who sat chattering and snarling at them on the round pillar outside the garden. At first, they laughed to see how small he was; they could not believe he had ravaged the asokavana by himself. They yelled, 'The king is great ... The king is good ... The king is us!'

But the moment the rakshasas went to seize the little monkey, he stood up, stretched, and in a blink he was enormous. His head was in the sky and, his golden eyes blazing, he growled down at them dreadfully. The gigantic vanara beat his chest and that noise reverberated through Lanka, shaking Ravana’s palace to its foundations.

Hanuman roared at the Kinkaraas, ‘Rama and Lakshmana are with king Sugriva of the vanaras; glory be to them! I am Hanuman, the wind’s son, and I serve Rama. I flew across the sea to find Sita and I will make you sorry before I leave your infernal city.’

Some of them growing huge themselves, the rakshasas rushed at him. Hanuman pulled up the pillar he sat on and smashed them with it, killing a wave of demons. Their screams rang through the sea air; their blood and empty-brains were spattered across the ruined garden; scarlet gore flowed in streams. In a trice, unbelievably, that entire contingent lay mangled and lifeless. Hanuman’s roars of triumph rang through Lanka and the city quaked again.

Word reached Ravana, and he could hardly believe what he heard. He called his the commander-in-chief's son, Jambumali, Prahastha's son. Prahasta was Ravana's uncle, who's actually the crown prince of Lanka. Because afraid of Ravana's power, he gave up the throne and gave it to Ravana, and disposed himself as commander-in-chief. Jambumali was one of Ravana's ablest young commanders, he sent him forth with a bigger force.

Crying again that he was Rama’s servant, Hanuman wiped out this legion as well, beating it to bloody pulp with the pillar. Jambumali himself was a great warrior, strong and arrogant, fierce and handsome. He came into battle roaring as only a noble-born rakshasa can. He shot a sizzling clutch of arrows at Hanuman.

His fur quivering, Hanuman stood very still at the first wounds he received. A slow smile spread on his face and, one by one, he plucked out young Jambumali’s shafts from his flesh, like thorns. Then an earthshaking duel erupted between them. Seizing up great rocks from the asokavana’s despoiled rockeries, Hanuman hurled them at the rakshasa. But Jambumali’s arrows were wizardly, and they blew the stones into dust. Then Hanuman twirled his pillar above his head and flung it like a javelin at the young rakshasa, smashing him against a wall, crushing his chest; and he died with an incredulous look on his face.

From his window, Ravana watched in mounting fury. He roared to his ministers to send another legion against Hanuman, who stood towering and pleased as could be in the streaming sun. The remains of the first two forces lay around his feet, rakshasas’ blood splashed everywhere as if in some horrible offering. Five ministers sent five warrior sons at the head of the biggest detachment yet. They were the most important generals: Virupaksha, Yupaksha, Durdhara, Praghasa and Bhasakama. They marched up the cobbled streets of Lanka, like thunder rolling, to quell Hanuman. But the vanara was implacable; he was invincible.

Durdhara attacked Hanuman with five fiery arrows that struck Hanuman in his head. Hurt by the arrows, Hanuman roared, expanded his body, and jumped to the chariot of Durdhara with great force. Hanuman destroyed the chariot of Durdhara. With the mighty blow of Hanuman, Durdhara lost his life. Seeing Durdhara’s death, Yupaksha and Virupaksha attacked Hanuman by jumping onto him. They stuck Hanuman with their mighty clubs. Hanuman uprooted a huge Sal tree and killed those two demons valiantly. Praghasa and Bhasakarna too attacked Hanuman from both sides. They stuck Hanuman with their spears and darts. Hanuman got his limbs wounded by the attack of these demons. Hanuman immediately pulled off the top of a mountain and threw it on those two demons. Those two demons vomited blood and died. After killing the generals, Hanuman killed the remaining army as well. He razed that contingent as easily as the others.

Hanuman was enjoying himself. His fur was coloured with rakshasas’ blood and he danced among the dead, still crying out Rama’s name and that Hanuman was his servant. He cried that he was just one among thousands of vanaras, most of them greater than him, who would soon descend on Lanka. And as if responding to the yells of the first destroyed Kinkaras, Hanoman chanted,

And yeah, yeah, the king is great

Yeah, yeah, the king is good

Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah

What if the king was one of us?

Just a slob like one of us?

Just a stranger on the bus?

Tryin' to make his way home? *)

Then he stopped, yelling, 'Show us that you are the man, don't just tell! Money does not sell any more!'

Ravana was astonished; never had he encountered such prowess, save once, long ago. He shouted, 'Call Aksha ... Akshayakumara, immediately!'"

Citations & References:
- Ramesh Menon, The Ramayana: A modern Translation, HarperCollins
- Bibeck Debroy, The Valmiki Ramayana, Penguin Books
- Sandra Gerth, Show, Don't Tell, Ylva
*) "One of Us" written by Eric Bazilian, slightly twisted.
[Part 13]
[Part 11]

Bahasa