The Power Of Three

Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called “The Pledge”. The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course… it probably isn’t. The second act is called “The Turn”. The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you’re looking for the secret… but you won’t find it, because of course you’re not really looking. You don’t really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet. Because making something disappear isn’t enough; you have to bring it back. That’s why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call “The Prestige”.”

The great Michael Caine in his monologue in the outstanding 2006 film The Prestige, reveals more than just a magic trick, he shares the secret of what makes a compelling novel.

Most works of fiction present their story in three acts – a beginning, a middle and an end. And just about every child in school  – possibly back to Aristotle! – has has this type of story telling trope drummed into them.

There seems something mystical about the power of three.

Good things come in threes. Actually, so do bad things.

The power of three adds emphasis and creates rhythm and is a popular tool in rhetoric:

liberte, egalite, fraternite!

I can promise you nothing but blood, sweat and tears,

Veni, vidi, vici. (I came, I saw, I conquered.)

Government of the people…by the people…for the people…

This is no less true in novel writing, where it is known as The Rule of Three and it governs nearly every aspect of western storytelling.

Here is my take on the three elements outlined by Michael Caine:

The Pledge
The magician shows you something ordinary…

In the case of romance novels, the author shows you something ordinary – a woman and a man, going about their lives quite independently until they meet.

We can identify with our hero and heroine. We like them, we are like them – or at least aspire to be.

In screenwriting terms this is known as the set-up.

The first act sets the scene – we get to know the characters and the world they live in, and begin to get an understanding of the emotional and psychological drivers that influence their decision-making.

 

The Turn
…takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary

It was a very ordinary day, a very ordinary life, a very ordinary day-to-day routine until they meet. The love they were looking for, or the love they never expected to find or the love they had given up on, is now right at their finger tips.

It doesn’t matter whether our hero or heroine know this at this stage – the important thing is that we do and now we have gone from being interested to invested in the story and our characters.

At this point in time, there are obstacles in the way of our lovers.

These conflicts may be internal – such as  insecurities or past hurts or they may be external – a love rival, a shipwreck, a family crisis.

…the protagonists will encounter obstacles in the form of people, objects and settings that appear with rising potency and increasing frequency in order to stymie the protagonist. In particular, the presence of the foe will be felt, causing the first clashes between The Protagonist and The Antagonist.

At some point during this stage (often halfway), the protagonist will seem to be close to accomplishing the ultimate goal, but events will conspire to prevent success. As a result, the protagonist will reach his/her lowest point and will often temporarily give up in despair.

But don’t despair, we still have one act to go.

The Prestige
…making something disappear isn’t enough; you have to bring it back.

Well it wouldn’t be much fun if our romance novel ended here, so this where the novellist really shines.

Having laid out these various plot devices and brought the relationship to its lowest ebb, it’s now time to put our our hero and our heroine back together.

This is where we find the climax (in more ways than one).

The internal conflict is resolved (or at least recognised for the obstacle that it is) and the external conflicts have been dealt with in whichever dramatic way our writer sees fit.

This is the part of the story where we stand up and cheer for our hero and heroine – we love them soooo much and want them to be happy.

We delight in the fact that they recognise (or can now act on) that thing that we knew by the start of Chapter Three – these two people have to get together and live happily-ever-after.

People who are ignorant of storytelling technique will claim that this is artificial and formulaic.

But recognising that something has a framework doesn’t negate from the beauty and individualism one can bring once those rules are understood.

In architectural terms The Guggenheim Museum is as different to the Sistine Chapel as one can get, but they each have a foundation, walls and a roof – does that make them cliched?

Not in the least!

The same goes with good story telling and that’s how we make magic.