[Which is Bingo?]
I've been blogging about ways to make any piece in any genre more literary. One useful tool is ambiguity. Some writers think erroneously that it helps to keep the identity of the character a mystery for as long as possible. Such writers start by introducing a character through pronouns, keeping the narrator as vague as possible for as long as possible. Events and characters can also be confusing to a reader when presented in an ambiguous fashion. For example, we're told in the famous children's song "There was a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o." Upon further reflection, the reader might question whether it's the dog or the farmer who answers to the name Bingo. Either interpretation may be accurate. This is not useful ambiguity (unless there's a specific reason to do so, as in the plot or character development requires it). Generally, a writer should be clear in who is doing what and when. However, there are exceptions.
[The joke.]
Useful ambiguity involves the deliberate confusion of events or character in order to create humor and/or to deepen plot or character. As the joke goes, "Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." This joke takes advantage of its own ambiguity to turn the apparent meaning on its ear. "Outside" appears to mean "apart from," though the punchline belies this interpretation. Movies like "Ocean's 11" deliberately confuse both the antagonist in the story and, by extension, the audience as a clever plot device. The reader/audience believes what seems to have happened on the screen or in the book then is pleasantly surprised when they, like the antagonist in the story, finds out what really happens.
[Ambiguous symbolism in the woods.]
Authors of literary works often keep their symbols deliberately vague and ambiguous, so every reader can make their own interpretation. In Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, various readers may interpret Hester Prynne's red letter badge on several levels and in several ways throughout the text. It starts as a mark to show the world she's an adulteress and ends up representing various things to various characters and readers, often shifting within the same book, from sin to hard work to charity to righteousness to sacredness to grace and beyond. The woods in a fairy tale, in Hawthorne's novel, or anywhere else it appears as freedom, evil, danger, darkness, escape, loss, confusion, or any one of countless things, often in the same work. When the reader doesn't spell out what a symbol, character, or event means, the reader can interpret it in a way that works for them, in a way that brings depth and meaning. Yellow can symbolize fear, positivity, illness, joy, or any range of other things, based on context. This kind of ambiguity can really make a symbol work on more than one level.
Ambiguity, as with other literary devices, should be a carefully used part of the craft. If the color yellow is used with no particular suggestion of something deeper, it's not ambiguous or even meaningful. It's just a color. If it's used in a way that merely confuses the reader, hinting at something that no reader can interpret, that's ambiguity that is not useful. If ambiguity is uses with intent and depth, it enhances the reading. If it's used unintentionally or in a way that is confusing or not useful, it just makes a mess. Go and find ambiguity in your own writing. This is often most doable with the help of an outside mind. Once you find (or create) your own ambiguity, determine if it brings greater meaning and depth to your work or if it simply confuses and frustrates. Best of luck.
