by J. Nathan Matias

Old Friends

Tracy Kidder wouldn't call his writing hypertext. He doesn't like to think of his writing in terms of methods, genres, or devices. He believes that the techniques of storytelling don't really belong to any particular genre. Instead, this Pulizter-Prize winning author just tries to write in ways that feel right for his topic.

Kidder's book Old Friends is a fine example of crafting a linear story. In fact his careful organizational choices also make it a thought-provoking influence on the craft of writing creative hypertext.

Like most books, Old Friends is separated into chapters. Unlike most books, there is no table of contents. One might at first think that Kidder doesn't want to give readers random access to his story, but that doesn't tell the entire reason. The organization of Old Friends is so complex, the table of contents could frighten readers. Chapters are not even the beginning. Old Friends is separated into four main sections. Only the main sections have names. Each section's chapters start a new count at 1. Within chapters, a row of asterisks marks another separation between content. Finally, an empty line also further subdivides sub-sub-chapters. These subtle design elements go a long way to making the divisions readable.

Despite the proliferation of subdivisions, Old Friends reads more accessibly, more smoothly than most nonfiction books. This is odd for a book with almost no action. "Nothing happened," said Kidder, when asked about the greatest challenge of writing the book. Kidder's research led him to spend two years recording the lives of one nursing home's residents. By the time he was finished, he had filled 89 handwritten notebooks with observations.

This book's quality doesn't reside in the action but in the emotional depth and relational drama of the aging residents. Death and illness are always either present or around the corner. The residents are near end of their lives. They don't have the distractions of ambition or fear, and the book shows us what remains as they fade away: love, joy, kindness, laughter, sorrow, regret, and perspective.

Kidder doesn't have an obvious thesis. He's not trying to prove anything or even formulate any new insight into the life of rest home residents. Instead, he just tells their stories. Kidder doesn't even appear in the book as a character.

Old Friends is highly episodic. In fact, the book could be seen as a collection of long-ish weblog postings, if not for the 1993 publication date and Kidder's extreme focus on editing. Section Winter, Chapter 10 stretches for only 2 pages. Many chapters contain numerous mini-episodes separated by a space or a row of asterisks.

No doubt the organizational quality and nuanced design of Kidder's book is also due to the excellent editing of Richard Todd, past editor for The Atlantic Monthly. But Kidder's transitions between scenes are masterful. In fact, the some most effective parts of the book occur in the spaces between scenes. This is because Kidder is dedicated to not telling us what to think, but rather arranging the scenes so artfully that the significance becomes clear through the organization. It's a powerful version of show, don't tell carried it farther than most writers take it. He stretches the old adage into the very organization and the reader's connections between scenes. If he were writing hypertext, Kidder would scorn the idea of labeling links for a creative work like this.

Kidder uses artifactual narrative techniques in Old Friends to great effect, although he does so sparingly. The following excerpt from section Spring occurs following a scene about one resident's impatience for the arrival of warm weather:

Both signs are emotionally powerful. The first is notable for the last line, that her handkerchiefs were for "Blowing and Weeping." The second is notable for the intent to raise $1000 from rest home residents through $1 donations. But Kidder doesn't just tell us. He lets us find out. He leads us to chuckle about Winifred's spring-cleaning efforts. Then, the first sign reminds us of the ever-present sorrow of the rest home. Only then do we learn her thoughtful reason for selling her personal effects; she wants to raise money for a project that benefits the whole home. We are now no longer chuckling, but touched at her generosity. Kidder lets it all come crashing down by showing us the hopelessness of her goal.

Two pages later, Winifred's optimism crashes too. Between sobs, she insists,

It may be a world where nothing happens, but under such circumstances, daily life becomes an epic. And yet, Kidder doesn't judge these people or explain their situation. Rather, he is able to show us these things using their words, actions, frustrations, and tears.

Kidder's excellent writing shows clearly that in any sort of writing, choosing the sources, scenes, or events is extremely important. He also demonstrates that the most powerful part of artifactual writing likes in the unwritten links that make the story.

Old Friends, unlike most popular creative nonfiction, follows Kidder's view that writing should be clean and straightforward. He has said that he wants his "prose to be as clear as a pane of glass." Devoid of many linguistic embellishments, Kidder's easily-readable style keeps readers' imaginations free to feel the depth of his subjects.

Although Tracy Kidder's straightforward style varies widely from the chaotic, lyrical style of Ciaran Carson's Last Night's Fun, the power of both books relies on carefully-planned, hypertextual organization of episodes, scenes, and artifactual elements (click to wake up The Day After the Night Before). In both books, the development of atmosphere fits the subject perfectly.