What we know and when we know it

Rewatching season one of Battlestar Galactica and suddenly realizing how much of the awesomeness comes from dramatic irony, things we know that the characters don't know.

Of course there's the thing about how we know that Earth is real. And we know who's a Cylon when the other characters don't. That's a huge part of it, right there--who's a Cylon? And part of *that* is that we only know a few of them at the beginning, so anyone could be. In season one we only know Six, Leoben, Sharon, and Doral. So if someone accuses someone else of being a Cylon, we don't know whether they are or not.

What else? We know that Laura has cancer but most people don't. Just the doctor, Billy, and Lee. From the miniseries we know that Starbuck brought about Zak's death, but we find that out right when Lee does. Adama doesn't find out for a couple of episodes. A whole lot of the tension of season one comes from the backstory among Lee, Starbuck, and Adama. And Adama and Tigh go way back, too.

One of the most brilliant things about Battlestar structurally is how front-loaded it was with stories that were already underway when the miniseries started. I have always really admired that. It's brilliant storytelling. One of the biggest mistakes a writer can make is behaving as though everything interesting started at the exact moment we come in. It gives the story such realistic weight. At one point Tigh tells Roslin that it would take about three weeks to explain the situation with Adama, Lee, and Starbuck in relation to Zak.

Actually I was thinking about this with Hot Fuzz also. The story in that little town has been going on for ages before our hero shows up.

Good things to remember when writing: have lots of balls already in the air, in mid-trajectory.

But the things we know that the characters don't know, that fascinates me. I never do this, I don't think. I never tell the reader things that some or all of the characters don't know. Do you do this? I think I should start, because holy cow, the tension is amazing.

I was just thinking of a character of mine arguing that ancient Greek drama didn't have dramatic irony, but it totally did. Obviously. Look at Oedipus. That's the whole point! We know and he doesn't know. Jocasta doesn't know. Nobody knows. The entire point of the play is Oedipus and Jocasta finding out that they're mother and son. Gross! And of course we go in spoiled, so to speak.

I always wondered about this when having students read it. Should I tell them the big secret? Greek audiences would have known. The whole point is that you know the story and watch it unfold so that you can be even more tortured, watching the characters not know and then find out. Exactly like Battlestar.

I'm watching the Chief watch Sharon petting the Cylon ship and wondering whether she's a Cylon, though it seems like he can't even admit to himself that he's thinking that. So there are several things going on in that one little scene.

1. Sharon doesn't know she's a Cylon. We're waiting for her to find out.
2. Chief doesn't know Sharon's a Cylon. We're waiting for him to find out.
3. Everyone trusts Sharon and doesn't know there's an enemy infiltrating their ranks--that they're incredibly vulnerable. We're waiting for them to find out.

So there are two personal stresses there and one general stress. Also that extra stress of the broken off relationship between Sharon and the Chief.

Brilliantly enough, the same exact thing is playing out with Helo and another Sharon, only she goes from pretending to fall for Helo to actually falling for Helo and betraying her own people. They tell her to get him to a cabin where they can hole up for a while, and she goes right back to him and tells him they have to run.

Only we (and Sharon) know all this. The Cylons don't know she's running. Helo doesn't know she's running from the Cylons. It's just like with Baltar. We're in an incredibly privileged position, so that we know what's going on in their lie-filled heads. We know all the lies because we know the truth.

But we don't know the truth about everything. Like Leoben, is he telling the truth? He seems to know things about Starbuck that upset her, but we don't know anything about her at this point, so we don't know if it's true.

It's almost like we get first person points of view with some of these characters because we're with them when they're alone and we know what they're not telling anyone else. We know their lies and what they're hiding. We know the truth.

I'm always fascinated by the difference between dramatic irony like that and the classic mystery. In one, we know things that some characters don't know and watch them figure it out. In the other, we don't know everything, or we don't know how things fit together, until all is revealed at the end and we can appreciate the cleverness of the author at giving us all the pieces yet hiding the solution. One is Oedipus and the other is Fight Club.

I think Battlestar is both. But season one is way more Oedipus. I think Oedipus is much more stressful and also much more enjoyable because we know what's behind that door that you're about to open and we can feel what you're going to feel for ages in advance. Anticipation and the pleasure of dramatic irony are much more interesting and powerful than just appreciating some cleverness afterward.

I would really like to use the godlike POV of dramatic irony with this character who may or may not be an actual god. (I know, but I'm not saying, ha!) I should use it a lot more because it's much more powerful.

Well, look at the different options:

1) Character sees and talks to a god who we know is real. Her friends think she's crazy, but she knows she isn't and so do we.  (Oedipus)

2) Character sees and talks to a god who doesn't exist. Her friends think she's crazy and so do we, but she knows she isn't. (Oedipus)

3) Character sees and talks to a god who may or may not be real. Her friends think she's crazy, but we're not sure until the end. (Fight Club)

It's odd because I started the book one way (I'm not saying which) and then introduced two elements: one confirms #1 and one confirms #2. Which I guess puts you firmly at #3, which is Fight Club again, and not Oedipus. I want Oedipus instead. I really believe Oedipus is infinitely more interesting and powerful, either way.

Also, with #2 we're watching the story of a crazy person or possibly a commentary on religion, whereas with #1 we're watching the story of an ancient god in modern life, which would obviously be better every kind of way. And is also a commentary on religion.

I'm not really sure what Six turns out to be in relation to Baltar. Honestly I can't remember how it all worked out in the end. Was she an angel sent by God to guide him? Or what? I dunno. I'll get there sooner rather than later, the speed I'm whipping through season one. I should have known I would have no ability to be moderate with this show. I figured I'd watch a couple a day, one or two, but I saw the miniseries and the first four yesterday and have already watched four today while cooking and cleaning just in the kitchen. Haven't even started my quiltapalooza yet. I'd bet on another four tonight.

What drives it, though? I really believe it's because I know things the characters don't know and I can't stand waiting to watch that shoe drop. It's the dramatic irony. Well, think about if you worked with someone and knew a secret about that person, whether it's something they did or something that's going to happen to them later that day. Unresolved secrets are pure torture. You can't wait for the resolution. It's so much better than waiting to find out the secret yourself.