Last month, BBC4 broadcast some
programmes for their ‘Slow TV’ series. I would have missed it altogether if it
hadn’t been for my mother who watched the first one on birdsong (I missed that one unfortunately) and another on a slow canal trip which she enthused about. I
managed to tape the canal one and finally got around to watching it
recently. It was two hours in
length and we the viewers were taken on a trip, as if we were on the barge
itself. There was no voiceover:
the only sounds to be heard were the various birds singing in the trees on the
banks, the occasional ducks, the wind in the grasses, the occasional distant
cyclist or walker along the towpath and, of course, the sound of gently
rippling water as the barge chugged along at 4 miles per hour. Occasionally, information about the
canal – the London to Bristol - would appear on the screen but never was the
viewer overloaded with information.
That was rather the point.
You could sit back and enjoy the relaxing journey. Apparently the canal
trip alone drew
in 506,000 viewers and a peak of 599,000, above the BBC Four slot average of
340,000.
In this day and age of speed and
ever-increasing information overload this is a novel way to escape. (I will return to that word novel,
shortly). But when our lives are saturated by busy social media newsfeeds vying
for attention; photos, videos, pages asking to be liked, blogs requesting to be
read and commented upon, is it any wonder we cherish this escape into slowness?
Time was, when you would perhaps escape the slow drudgery of a slow-paced life,
into an action packed thriller on TV.
You might imagine that two hours of scenery along a canal travelling at 4 mph would be a bit boring, but suddenly you are in a different - and quite enchanting - world.
I found myself looking forward to what was coming round the next bend or
stretch of the canal. Was that a bridge in the distance? Was that a person on the bridge? What an interesting tree. What season
might it be? Are those new buds on the trees or last summer's remains? And so
on…
And so on to the novel. I am in
various writers’ groups on Facebook and Linked In where writing discussions
abound. One blog was posted
recently in a Facebook Group about good storytelling versus books where nothing
happens. This is one of those
discussions that crops up periodically.
‘Books where nothing happens’ is usually directed at literary fiction
where plot, such as it is, often tends to be light and slow-moving and subservient to characters and
their internal environments. Environmental descriptions may be too long for today’s readers, who want a fast page-turner. Or do
they? Of course there’s a place
for the fast-paced action-packed page-turner but not everyone is looking for
the same kind of book to read. Even the same person will want to escape into a slower world from time to time to enrich their
experience or reflect their mood. Slow TV has
shown there is a place for slowness: the savouring, the slow-burning, indeed
the extraordinary in the ordinary.
Too many times I’ve heard people complain about lengthy descriptions in
books as if they have no place. Slowness doesn’t always mean nothing happens
either. Often description can be a great way to build suspense and control
pace. At other times, description
can be enjoyed for its own sake and in this sense has a lot in common with
poetry. So next time you read some
descriptive or atmospheric prose, don’t just skip over it, enjoy the journey
itself, the appeal to the senses on all levels, rather than racing to the story's destination. You never know, you
may be captivated.
