Proper Nouns and Pronouns

Nuanced ways to connect reader and character

my dad and his beloved dog, out on the prairie

The “Henry and Mudge” books by Cynthia Rylant, an early readers’ series about an only child and his very large dog, are a good starting place to see how this — using names and pronouns in your story-telling — works. (Read on if you write for adults. We’ll get there.)

All other characters in the series are named relative to Henry, which reinforces just who is the main character. The language that Rylant uses is simple: “Henry’s big dog Mudge,” “Henry’s father,” Henry’s aunt,” and so on. If “Henry’s father” was simply “Father,” the focus would pull away from Henry as central character.

This choice on Rylant’s part accurately reflects a child’s world, in which they are the center. (Is this so different for the adult world? Or the reader’s world?)

Characters in-relation-to

Father and Somebody’s father

Let’s say you are writing a story with a main character named Roland, for a grown up audience. As above, consider the difference between referring to a character as “Father” rather than “Roland’s father,” and let’s extend the possibilities to the different ages and stages in life, including if “Roland’s father” has reached an advanced age and is quite feeble or child-like even. More often than not, “Father” takes on his own role, and has more autonomy. This can empower him to hold more affect in Roland’s life, and can create some useful tension in the story-telling. “Roland’s father,” on the other hand, sets the father into his relational place. Might even put him in his place. It might say something about Roland’s role or even abuse of power in an aging father’s life.

“Father,” in a story of adolescence, might be a person who is restraining the young character’s need for growth, freedom, responsibility. “Father” in a story about a middle-aged woman might denote some respect given to a father-in-law, when she herself is processing the loss of her own father. Or it could denote some strain or even coldness, depending on your approach.

How does it serve the story?

Consider how you can use this subtlety in your story-telling, and how you can refer to a character in more than one way. Some shift can happen in the minds of your readers, shift that brings them closer to the character, or distances them. Ask yourself: what serves the story? That’s always key.

Proper nouns can create distance

Generally, the proper noun puts some distance between the character and the reader; it is a formality, of varying levels. Using the pronoun can denote familiarity, even intimacy. What is it that your story, your character, and your reader requires of that particular moment in the experience of reading? Is this something that can or should change throughout the story? You might open a story with a full name, including an unused middle name even, and by the end of the story, the character is known by a nickname. Or open with a pronoun, and by the end of the story the character is referred to by proper noun. Again, how does this serve the story? It might even be the story — some subtle bit that carries the theme.

But how do you introduce the main character? What is the first connecting point for the reader?

First character and main character introduced

The principle we are talking about here is that of the reader usually connecting with the very first character mentioned on page one, and their assumption that this character will be the protagonist. Generally, the idea is to introduce the main character with proper noun — their name — and once established, using the pronoun, even as you use proper nouns for secondary and tertiary characters. In a subtle way, this use of pronoun draws the reader in closer to the main character. There is some sub-conscious Reader-Knowledge in their understanding of just who “he” or “she” or “they” is.

How this works

Let’s look at the opening in William Trevor’s short story, “The Paradise Lounge”:

On her high stool by the bar the old woman was as still as a statue. Perhaps her face is expressionless, Beatrice thought, because in repose it does not betray the extent of her years.

The opening paragraph continues with description of the older woman, and then paragraph two follows with:

“We can surely enjoy ourselves,” Beatrice’s friend said, interrupting her scrutiny of the old woman…

This is a complex example to talk about the principle that the main character is — generally — the first character the reader encounters.

She, her, and Beatrice

In this story, it is the pronoun that gives the reader a immediate sense of unearned intimacy. Imagine the difference created by starting out with “The old woman sat on her high stool…” It’s subtle, but effective, as your reader does that thing they do when starting a new story: always consciously and sub-consciously working to pull together clues to “what is this about?”

In line two, we move on to “Beatrice” — proper noun . So we might assume that Beatrice is the main character, and this possibility is emphasized by the character-description of “Beatrice’s friend” in the next paragraph. (Relational.)

We are not immediately given a name for the old woman — seemingly a secondary character — but by pulling our attention to “her,” the second word in the story, we are in fact placed behind Beatrice’s eyes, right where we need to be for now.

Trevor is a skillful writer, and we could assume that “her” will be the main character as she is the first we encounter, but “Beatrice” shows up in the second line. And readers do quickly begin to put together this fictional world. By paragraph 3, Beatrice is now “she,” and takes her place of pronoun-familiarity (let’s call it!) with the reader.

Read the story in entirety (and the rest of his collection!) and you can see how Trevor circles around and back to the old woman, who does gain her own name along the way, and does in fact, find her way to being the protagonist.

Replacing a principle with “something better”

You can probably come up with dozens of books that open with a character who is not the main character, but it’s always good to at least know the principles of writing before you mess with them. In his book about screenwriting, Story, Robert McKee suggests that if you eschew a writing principle, “replace it with something better.” In my Trevor example, the payoff is placing the reader in Beatrice’s head, and acknowledging another character — the old woman — who will have the significant role in the end. In writing the story as he has, he includes multiple generations, and fills a short story with resonance.

Basic rule of pronouns

Following a proper noun

In story-telling the pronoun almost always refers to the noun that precedes it. You want the meaning to flow easily, and not break the reading. So if you need to be clear as to who “he” is, look to the name that comes before. As always in English and in story-telling, there are exceptions; this one, like others, is about common sense.

Let’s look at an example: Roland and his father were talking about the gift that they would purchase together for Maria’s birthday. He suggested a blue teapot he’d seen at the antique store. The most recent (male) noun preceding the “He” is “father.” If you want it to refer to Roland, then you might feel you have to use his name. “Roland suggested a blue teapot he’d seen…” But imagine this is some number of pages into the story and your reader knows, without a doubt, that Roland is the protagonist. Once clear to the reader, move with the flow of the story, and with clarity.

Always, there are exceptions

Here is a sentence from the novel I am working on: “Once, Frank’s doctor had suggested they come as a family, but he had not mentioned the idea to Suzanne.” Here, the “he” is Frank, not his doctor. (If the doctor is not male, then there would be no question. But if the reader knows the doctor is male, then there might be. So the reader is assuming that Suzanne/wife has not met the doctor, or that if she has, it really is simply that Frank has chosen not to discuss this with her.) If in doubt, read aloud. If still in doubt, ask a friend/beta reader to read, and let you know if the sense of it does not work. If you find yourself writing “Frank” all the time, for clarity, you risk distancing your reader.

And serve the reader

Such shifts are so nuanced. The reader picks up on these subconsciously for the most part. But “subconsciously” is how the reader recreates the story, its world, and its people within the reader-mind. Our writer-choices give the readers block after block with which to build. Understand the power of subtle choices. Make use of them.

P.S. When to use upper-case

(Because this question always comes up.)

Why is father “father” at times and “Father” at other times?

Capital F Father is used when the word is being used as a proper noun:

e.g. Early one evening, Father called in Henry for dinner. (Here, imagine it as a replacement for his name: Bill called in Henry…)

Lower-case f is used when the word is generic:

e.g. Henry’s father called in Mudge for his kibbles. (Here, “father” is generic because it could just have well have been Henry’s mother, or next-door neighbor, or anyone who has a sudden urge to give a dog some food.)