how to frame a scene

Story Scholar

Last week’s article on Towards Zero made me realise that one scene stood out in sharper contrast in my recollection of the book. I thought we could break down the visual impact of this scene and extrapolate some useful techniques for our own writing.

The scene I’m thinking of is a relatively simple one. It takes up two pages, and involves two people watching two other people:

She went to the french windows, cup in hand.
Mr Treves accompanied her. As she paused on the threshold he looked out over her shoulder.
Audrey was sitting on the corner of the balustrade.
In the bright moonlight her beauty came to life – a beauty born of line rather than colour. The exquisite line from the jaw to the ear, the tender modelling of chin and mouth, and the really lovely bones of the head and the small straight nose. That beauty would be there when Audrey Strange was an old woman – it had nothing to do with the covering flesh – it was the bones themselves that were beautiful. The sequinned dress she wore accentuated the effect of the moonlight. She sat very still and Nevile Strange stood and looked at her.
Nevile took a step towards her.
‘Audrey,’ he said, ‘you -’
She shifted her position, then sprang lightly to her feet and clapped a hand to her ear:
‘Oh! my ear-ring – I must have dropped it.’
‘Where? Let me look -’
They both bent down, awkward and embarrassed – and collided in doing so. Audrey sprang away. Nevile exclaimed:
‘Wait a sec – my cuff button – it’s caught in your hair. Stand still.’
She stood quite still as he fumbled with the button.
‘Oo – you’re pulling it out by the roots – how clumsy you are, Nevile, do be quick.’
‘Sorry I – I seem to be all thumbs.’
The moonlight was bright enough for the two onlookers to see what Audrey could not see, the trembling of Nevile’s hands as he strove to free the strand of fair silvery hair.
But Audrey herself was trembling too – as though suddenly cold.
Mary Aldin jumped as a quiet voice said behind her:
‘Excuse me.’
Thomas Royde passed between them and out.
‘Shall I do that, Strange?’ he asked.
Nevile straightened up and he and Audrey moved apart.
‘It’s all right. I’ve done it.’ Nevile’s face was rather white.
‘You’re cold,’ said Thomas to Audrey. ‘Come in and have coffee.’
She came back with him and Nevile turned away staring out to sea.
‘I was bringing it out to you,’ said Mary. ‘But perhaps you’d better come in.’
‘Yes,’ said Audrey, ‘’I think I’d better come in.’
They all went back into the drawing-room.
– Towards Zero by Agatha Christie, pp. 107-9

FRAMING
The first thing I find especially effective about this scene is the use of the french windows to frame the view. This framing accomplishes a few things:

It separates the observer from the observed, thereby providing an opportunity to showcase reactions and interpretations.
It limits the perspective or viewing angle and focuses the reader’s attention (towards certain elements and away from others).
It creates an imagined canvas on which the scene can be described.

In the excerpt above, Christie could easily have pushed the observing characters (Mary and Mr. Treves) into the “action” and described the scene from the perspective of all four of them standing together on the terrace.

Instead, by causing Mary (and hence, Mr. Treves) to pause on the threshold to watch, she separates the two factions: the observers and those observed.

The result is both theatrical, and memorable.

Since Christie offers no direct insight into the characters’ thoughts, the only interpretation of their feelings comes through Mr. Treves’s perspective; he sees that the two are ‘awkward and embarrassed’ and that Nevile’s hand is trembling.

It should come as no surprise that Christie uses this brief scene to develop both the characters and the plot. If you’re writing a mystery, this framing technique is a sly way to hide clues in plain sight.

Consider:
How is the scene “framed”?
Who’s watching who?
What do you want readers to see but not notice?
How can you frame a scene so as to draw attention away from that clue, while drawing attention towards something else (perhaps a red herring)?

THE VISUAL FIELD
In Dreaming by the Book, Elaine Scarry discusses how images are projected on the visual field of the mind’s eye:

“If one closes one’s eyes and pictures, say, a landscape that encompasses the imaginative equivalent of our visual field, it is very hard to fill in its entirety with concentrated colors and surfaces. If, instead, one imagines the face of a flower—a much smaller portion of the visual field “with its sudden dropping off at the edge of the petals where no image production is required—the concentration of color and surface comes within reach.
We might call this the ratio of extension to intensity.”

Films have accustomed us to seeing a variety of establishing shots and close-up shots, and it strikes me that Christie’s description is very cinematic in the way it zooms in and out of details:

With the vertical frame of the french window and Mary’s shoulder established, the description next directs the reader’s eye along the horizontal plane of the banister, culminating in the figure of Audrey.
Next, we zoom in to Audrey’s face.
Then we zoom out to imagine Audrey’s sequinned dress sparkling in the moonlight.
We zoom out further still (or perhaps our focus is simply redirected) and we see a man watching Audrey.
Again we zoom in close to Audrey’s face to imagine her missing earring.
And zoom out to see the two figures bending over and colliding.
Then we zoom right in to see a small cuff button, tangled up in strands of hair.
Zooming out a little, we see a trembling hand.
Zooming out even further, Audrey’s trembling body.
Then we’re back with the original framing of the french windows, and the two onlookers.
Finally, the view widens to include the sea on one side, and the drawing room on the other.