The Art of Understatement

In just about all art, understatement is the trademark of genius. Miles Davis may have been the greatest jazz trumpeter that ever lived but what made the notes he played so brilliant were the silent spaces in between. The same goes for paintings – the Japanese and Chinese artists have long mastered the art of letting the empty canvas talk.

And so, too, with writing, less really is more. While you do need to develop ideas and plot progressions, the more light and subtle your pen is on the page, the more you invite the reader in. Take a look at the unforgettable first page of Albert Camus' Outsider:

Mother died today. Or it could have been yesterday. I don't know.

What does he mean it's hard to be sure? What kind of person doesn't know when their mother has just died? Well, Camus has sure left us wanting to find out and so we read on. Simply brilliant.

Or take George Orwell's 1984 where the first hint of the nightmarish society he's about to describe comes when we learn that:

It was a bright, cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen.

He doesn't explain why or give it any further attention but an atmosphere of unease has been created with one subtle anomaly.

So, too, with your characters. If your readers are following the progress of a character they will already have gotten inside his skin and will understand why they act the way they do. Instead of spelling out their motives, the more subtly the actions of your protagonists are related, the more the reader will be engaged in understanding why they do what they do.

Understatement is the key to great writing as it's the empty spaces that bring out the content. If you want to get Taoist about it let's quote Lao Tzu:

The five colours blind the eye.
The five tones deafen the ear.
The five flavours dull the taste.