Weighing Metaphor to Meaning – The Vital Role of the Objective Correlative in Storytelling

Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —

– Emily Dickinson

A few weeks ago I discussed the play Hamlet in relation to an essay that T.S. Eliot wrote. In that essay Eliot coined a term called the “objective correlative.” Originally that was what I wanted to discuss in the first post I wrote, but I ended up talking about the play at large instead. So today I’d like to continue the discussion of what T.S. Eliot is referring to and how it relates to literature, story, and writing. To begin let’s hear what Eliot says. Here’s the quote and a link for the source for reference too.

The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an “objective correlative”; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked.

These lines essentially explain the larger function of literature and funnily enough are sort of an afterthought Eliot uses to further his larger discussion of Hamlet. Much like how Newton created calculus in order to answer deeper questions he was struggling with regarding how the universe worked, Eliot is inadvertently explaining how fiction should work to further illustrate the problems he sees with Hamlet. So what does he mean exactly by “objective correlative”? First let’s just break down the words themselves – “objective” relates to an object and “correlative” is just a fancy way to say correlates. So for any story that we tell we must find objects that correlate to “that particular emotion.” In other words the external actions of the story must match up with the internal experiences of the characters. Eliot argues that this objective correlative is lacking with Hamlet in the play. Hamlet’s feelings and internal struggles simply do not justify or coincide with the external actions of the play. As I explained in my previous post which you can find here, I tend to agree with Eliot on this point, and frankly I think it is a very astute and insightful awareness both for Hamlet as well as for stories in general. As writers this idea of the objective correlative is vital for telling stories. We always want our stories to be real, to be justified, and to be immersive.

The objective correlative demands that we look for metaphors. We must say what we want to say without actually saying it. So to accomplish that tall task we find metaphors that can absorb and contain whatever themes and messages and feelings and conflicts we are so desperate to communicate. Literature is often the art of mirroring that which we desire to say. That process of mirroring or illustrating life and conflict and emotion, rather than just simply “getting to the point” is what makes stories and literature so extremely powerful and engaging. It is the objective correlative that we all want whenever we go to the theater, watch a movie, read a novel, or tell scary stories by a campfire. Stories are arcs of emotion, and as writers we are always seeking to build characters and events that evoke those emotions whether it be comedy or tragedy or horror or nostalgia or love, etc.

Since Romanticism emerged in 1798 with Wordsworth and Coleridge, literature has developed into an art form that tends to avoid preaching or teaching or holding a moral high ground. There is a long history of didactic literature, but it is largely a by-gone tradition today. What we think of as a good story or good literature is something that fully mesmerizes us, sucks us in, uses language in creative ways, and doesn’t let go. So if we want to write fiction or tell good stories it certainly behooves us to understand what Eliot is talking about.

Interestingly the Bible is a powerful example of the objective correlative in action. The Old Testament and the Gospels in large part tell stories about Israel and Jesus. Those stories in and of themselves are designed to elucidate the way God works and relates to mankind. But why tell the stories at all? Why tell the story of the Israelites liberating themselves from Egyptian slavery? Why not simply say “Slavery is wrong. God wants people to be free from tyranny”? It would certainly make for a much shorter book! In fact many self-help books today are very much like this. They are didactic and make simple, bold statements that hopefully offer sage advice to the reader. But they don’t really tell stories. The Bible on the other hand often does the opposite. It tells lots of stories that are amazing and powerful and memorable. The story of Jesus Christ for example is actually the objective correlative for the deeper emotion and understanding of God’s love for each of us and for all of mankind eternally. Now that’s one powerful objective correlative to say the least! The didactic elements and commentaries on these Biblical stories, and Lord knows there are many comments about them, largely come from outside the Bible itself or are found only in certain parts of the Bible which are often not the most memorable or even religiously adhered to today in large part. It is the stories that remain as the most lasting and significant elements of the Bible. And for good reason because there are strong objective correlatives in all of these stories. The powerful characters and events correlate well to the powerful and profound emotions and meanings related to God and the larger purpose of life.

Great stories are filled with great meaning, and likewise great meaning demands great stories. The size of the plant must fit the size of the pot. I remember when I was in college I asked my late, great Professor Tobias, God bless his soul, if he had read “The Prophet” by Khalil Gibran. His immediate reply was “Yes but it’s all in Wordsworth already.” At the time I didn’t fully understand what he meant by that, but as I write about the objective correlative here and now, I see much more of what he meant. If you aren’t familiar with the book “The Prophet” I have included a link to it here. It is filled with very beautifully written poetic wisdoms told in a short essay format on various life topics. There is a vague and general shell of a story about a man who lived in a village and is now leaving. But before he leaves people ask him questions on life, and he gives his wise and poetic answers. It is a profound book to be sure and I love it, but it is largely didactic and refuses to provide a real story or characters for us to relate to and connect with. In other words it doesn’t have an objective correlative. This, I suspect, is what my professor was referring to in his comments. Contrast this with Wordsworth who in many respects is revealing very similar insights as Gibran, but unlike Gibran, Wordsworth uses stories and metaphors to artistically allude to those insights, rather than state them outright. Both styles have their place in the literary canon, and both can have profound and powerful impacts on the reader, but stories demand a different type of participation from the reader. Stories must sneak meaning up onto the reader, they may not even know it is there at all; they may just like the story. As writers then, stories likewise demand a different type of skillset than writing didactic literature.

As writers we struggle to just discover something meaningful in the first place, but then once we’ve found that meaning we must again struggle to find a way to speak about it without actually saying it. We must find an appropriate vessel that is fit to hold those meanings for us. That is the struggle with story. We must find the action, plot, and chain of events that our characters go through and experience so that they ultimately culminate at a flashpoint, at some intersection or event horizon where the character is trapped, forced into an existential decision. There is no way out now, a decision must be made, something will now happen, and it is a decision pregnant with meaning, rich with emotion, and fully engrossing. We can only hope as writers that we can accomplish such great feats, and Eliot’s objective correlative at least helps us to understand more clearly what precisely we are doing as writers. We may not know how best to achieve what Eliot describes so well, but at least the path is more visible. Hopefully that is a comfort and an aid to us, for it is even clearer just how steep and treacherous these literary mountains stand before us as we struggle to tell our stories.