A little bit of espionage

I don't know how much of this is clever, how much is clever-clever, or how much is obvious or complete rubbish. But it all struck me as interesting, so I reproduce it here. I'm only really still at the stage of discovering how these strange things called "stories" actually work, so I crave the indulgence of the more cogent critic.

Chapters

If you haven't read the story itself yet, you might want to do so. It's only five chapters and it's faultless and beautiful, you bloody philistines. It starts here.

Explanation

After the minor failure of my six-part story to really carry as far as the end, I decided to write a new story. Or rather, it decided to write itself: the first two chapters were written largely independently, and then it was clear that a bigger story could be told using them and other short stories. I think this story is a lot stronger, as no one chapter is written as filler in order to carry the others. Thus they can be read as individual short stories, or as a five-part work.

Some judicious editing and re-editing allowed this to be taken even further. Not only are the five stories largely capable of being taken out of context, but they can be put together in several different contexts. I'm no Scott McCloud (thankfully) but I thought this was interesting enough for a bit of discussion. To do so, we'll need one or two diagrams. Because I've always been a fan of the style of the London Underground map's design, I've shamelessly and ineptly copied it. I don't know how much I've unintentionally intentionally forced it, but there is also a neat correspondence in the style, which I'll point out later.

Interpretation 1: cut and paste

The most basic reading of the story is in a straight, "publishing-chronological" order: in the order of how anyone might have read them as they went up on the site. Because of the "shape" this seemed to map out in my head, I've called this the Central Line:

This order is simple and easy to follow, but the overall story doesn't make sense in this context. Most people are used to chapters arriving out of "story-chronological" order in a book, though, and would therefore try and rearrange them in their head so that they made sense.

Interpretation 2: two separate stories

So: a first step in making sense of the chronology might be to split the story into its two clearly-defined parts. Of course, pretty much anyone who has ever read a novel (outside of some drivel by Kathy Lette or John Irving) will be able to follow the fairly basic concept of "chapters not necessarily arriving in the order they happened." But I'd like to think that the looseness with which I wrote the story means that, when splitting the story up in order to start reconstructing it with a sensible time frame, one is actually able to come up with a valid interpretation of the story, as two separate stories, that may or may not (modulo authorial intent, which is anybody's guess, even mine) have been the way I meant things to be interpreted. In other words: if you can't be clever, then at least don't rule out the possibility that you are.

Anyone who has ever tried to get to Mornington Crescent will know that the bifurcation of the Northern Line makes it confusing to navigate and comprehend. So this interpretation is named after that line:

Again, the independence of the five stories easily permits this combination to be actually interpreted as two separate stories. Lovely, if a bit strained by one branch only having two stories.

Interpretation 3: before or after

Comparing what Oliviero Paio says with what Jon's boss tells him, it is possible for the London branch of the story to either precede or succeed the other branch. If the London branch occurs first, then Jon could be sent to spy on Mr Barnaby; if the Spanish branch is first, then Paio has asked Dr Harris to send Jon on the basis of Barnaby's delivery.

Furthermore, there are a few hints from the characters at a repetition of the plot they are embroiled in over and over again (albeit with different couriers/spies, of course). I've decided, mostly because of this potentially infinite tit-for-tat spying that could be going on, but also because it encapsulates the two interpretations in the preceding paragraph, to lump all of these together as the Circle Line:

Thus we have a courier who arrives with information in Spain, and on this information someone is sent from London to follow another courier to Spain, who in turn outwits his tail and arrives with information....

Interpretation 4: the same person

The final interpretation I want to bring out is the following and isn't obvious: the entire story is based around a single person, a courier called Jonathan Barnaby. This courier is sent by his boss in London to Spain with important information, and on the way believes he is being followed. He strikes out on foot to shake off his pursuer, and eventually meets with Oliviero Paio to deliver the information. Let's call this the District Line:

I'd have preferred the second interpretation above to be called the District Line, because of its division of the story into two separate locations. In the end, though, the Northern Line most suited the structure of that interpretation, if not its content. And the same is true here: why? because, as on the London Underground itself, the District Line is a kind of "special case" of the Circle Line, that does not connect up to form a circle, but terminates instead.

Results

I have no idea where this is leading, or how much it could be expanded. If this faintly whimsical game were to be played in an entire novel, then one might have a masterwork, or alternatively a confusing mess; or worse, something reminiscent of a choose-your-own-adventure book. Let us all pause for a moment, to shudder. I also have no real feeling for whether this vagueness permits the reader to stretch their own powers, as a reader; if instead it just makes them feel rather neglected, starved of a stricter structure.

What I have learned from this, though, is that I can write better stories if I can try and get individual chapters to speak for themselves rather than acting as fillers for others. No doubt a future experiment will teach me that, in some circumstances, the precise opposite is true. At that point I will have to start all over again with trying to figure out how to write anything longer than around 800 words.