Better pictures
Monday, January 19, 2009
I WAS listening to a Public Radio station the other day in my pickup. I do that quite a bit because they have good music and interesting programming. A short segment came on, discussing a phenomenon that has apparently been totally unexpected. A resurgent interest in radio drama and comedy. A lot of the old classic radio shows are available now in tape cassettes and compact discs.
I recalled seeing in a recent catalog (PLENTY of catalogs) a broad selection of material. Jack Benny, Fred Allen, Fibber McGee, Amos and Andy, Lum and Abner, Bob Hope — good quality stuff from radio’s “Golden Age.” There were dramatic offerings, series shows like “The Shadow” and “I Love a Mystery” — “The Lone Ranger,” “Gunsmoke,” and other shows which started as radio programs and later became popular on TV.
One of the commentators remarked that there’s even a resurgence of interest in new material for radio drama, mystery and adventure. That confused me for a minute, until I remembered that there are a myriad of books on tape available. We’ve recently listened, on long trips, to tapes and CDs ranging from Jay Leno to Walter Cronkite to Tony Hillerman’s mysteries and Elmer Kelton’s classic Westerns.
About that time I remembered a remark by a young reader, no older than 10. I was signing books in a mall and he’d brought one for me to autograph.
“Do you know why it’s better to read than to watch TV?” he asked. “When you read, you can make your own movie in your head.” He was right, of course. Imagination is far more exciting than someone else’s attempted creation of what THEY thought it looked like. That’s why the creature in the dark or under the bed is so fearsome.
When I was very small, I KNEW the appearance of the bat cave in “I Love a Mystery,” of Fibber McGee’s closet, of the Lone Ranger and The Shadow — (well, you couldn’t actually see him; he was invisible, but he was pretty spooky!).
Consider the havoc wrought by Orson Welles’ radio show about a Martian invasion, back in the ’30s. People all over the country conjured up such terrifying images that there was panic and suicide. The “War of the Worlds” was an old story then, written before Welles was born. It has been used since in movies and TV and the theme lives on. But never has that plot line made the impression that it did on that night of terror on radio. We can create in our mind’s eye terror far beyond the creations of the special-effects team.
It’s true at the opposite end of the spectrum, too. We can visualize something good, pleasant, sweet and romantic. It’s always better if just a bit is left to the imagination. A romantic scene of love in a movie is much more exciting if the director chooses to fade out before we see the final act. An explicit scene, as portrayed even on prime-time TV nowadays, is startling — yes, exciting to the senses, but overall, disappointing. If we had been able to create the last moments in our minds it would be not only more socially acceptable, but more fun. It’s like the contrast between a striking, revealing gown on a beautiful woman and stark nudity, which is basically a disappointment. Expectation is far more intriguing than explicit detail.
I recently talked to a teacher who was concerned that her elementary students seemed to lack the ability to visualize a scene as it was read aloud. If they’d never read books, or had somebody read to them, they just didn’t know how to create that scene. Wouldn’t it be tragic if humans lost that creative ability which started with the listeners around the fire in the cave? The storyteller provided the canvas and the human mind painted the pictures.
Some minds still do, fortunately. On the Public Radio segment I mentioned earlier, one of the resource people spoke of a questionnaire which someone had used in elementary schools. One question dealt with — which do you like better, TV or radio, and WHY? One very perceptive kid had answered: “Radio. It has better pictures.” It’s hard to argue with logic like that.
See you down the road.
Author and columnist Don Coldsmith lives in Emporia.