Describing What’s Absent

Bone2pick

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So my daughter read one of her middle grade novels to me a few evenings ago — a daily routine of ours — and we encountered the following passage:

He kept to the center of the street, wary of the houses on both sides. They stood ominous and dark; no light shone from behind their dusty windows, nor did any smoke rise from their precariously tall and twisted black chimney stacks.

And this got me thinking about descriptive writing, specifically how writers can call attention to what something lacks, as opposed to what it possess. It’s not exactly a sagacious concept to reflect on, admittedly, but nevertheless I enjoyed trying to come up with scenarios for when that approach is apt.

'Absence of an expected attribute' struck me as likely the most common reason. For example, a public swimming pool without a lifeguard, or a police officer without a sidearm (at least in America), or a clock face without hands. Details such as those might be important for the POV character, or they might merely be mentioned to help paint a scene.

Then I considered the cases where multiple expected attributes are absent, like in the passage I included, and wondered if the greater the amount of characteristics pointed out as missing, the greater the mood/emotional feeling instilled? There’s a limit, obviously. You wouldn’t want to pile on. But, for instance, if a hospital were to lack several things a typical hospital would have, might emphasizing that leave the reader slightly unsettled, or even spooked?

Anything missing that would normally be present is evidence of atypicality, possibly disorder. And environments and people — especially people — that are identified as atypical can immediately raise red flags.

I’d like to give this a little more thought; and I’ll try an keep an eye out for suitable examples from my reading material to add to this thread. Does anyone have anything to add?
 
I'm not sure if this is actually a question, but I'll add my thoughts anyway.

I think using absence vs presence of expected things has to do with mood. In the passage you posted, it's only two lines - but what we learn in those two lines is that the empty, cold, abandoned houses make the character very uneasy. And they really could have left out the "wary of the houses" because that was clear by the description of the houses and the walking in the middle of the street.

If, instead, they had talked about the houses being in a line down the street, the sidewalk being lit by the streetlights - we wouldn't be aware that the houses are abandoned and they wouldn't make us nervous. If that were the case, only going by a couple of sentences, I'd question whether he's just paranoid, saw an animal, etc.

A cop without a gun (in the US) would make you wonder if he really is a cop or faking it, or maybe under someone's control. While a cop should (usually, maybe, in theory) represent security and safety, the lack of something expected would instead have the opposite effect because something is wrong.

A clock face without hands is also just weird. Who removes the hands from a clock? Why?

Pretty much, in most cases, you can kind of assign absence a negative/fearful/nervous connotation and presence a positive/safe-ish/calm connotation.

I, of course, am speaking of it in only this kind of context as the presence of a zombie on your windshield is pretty obviously a problem and the way you describe it isn't really going to change that.
 
I did this twice in scene 3 of my "Arch on the Hill" story.

A cold wind rose, presaging the coming winter, but the sky was clear. No storm would shatter the solemn quietude of the hill. Neither were there barks or hoots or other animal calls. Even the insects ceased their chittering, as though they understood that something important and demanding of their full attention was about to occur.

The first bit was meant as a contrast to the storm the character encountered last time. From there, I listed other things that were absent to heighten the anticipation. Of course, nothing happened. Not until later, after the character had left, and we get this:

Sometime later, in the darkest part of the night, the symbols on the arch began to glow a vibrant blue. Again, the animals and insects ceased their prattling, and even the wind held its breath.

This time, there isn't even a wind. And this time, yes, something does happen.
 
I think I agree that it's about what kind of mood you're trying to set. I don't really know of any examples of where absence is described with fondness in mind. Unless it's the empty recliner where a beloved grandfather sat, or something to that effect. It's an interesting topic I don't know that I've ever thought too much about, but now I want to. It's certainly going to make me look at how I describe things in my bigger pieces especially, to see whether the absence is necessary or if it's me trying to set a specific expectation of a scene. Those things can both be true, of course, just thinking out loud, I guess.

Thank you for the thoughts!
 
I enjoyed trying to come up with scenarios for when that approach is apt.
I think it’s most effective when the absence serves as a clue something is just not right in the scene, whether it’s silence in a forest serving as a warning of a predator or enemies in ambush up ahead or something a lot weirder.
Does anyone have anything to add?
Describing based on absence feels really similar to describing something based on what it isn’t, for me, and one of the most striking examples that comes to mind there is from “Xuthal of the Dusk”, one of the original Conan stories by Robert E. Howard. The monstrous creature Thog is all but stated to have originated in some other realm of existence; all the human characters who interact with it struggle to wrap their minds around it, so it makes sense their clearest descriptions of Thog are normal traits it doesn’t have or normal behaviors it doesn’t do:
She could tell nothing about the creature’s body. Its outline seemed to waver and alter subtly even as she looked at it; yet its substance was apparently solid enough. There was nothing misty or ghostly about it.
and
As it came toward her, she could not tell whether it walked, wriggled, flew or crept.
and
A dark tentacle-like member slid about her body, and she screamed at the touch of it on her naked flesh. It was neither warm nor cold, rough nor smooth; it was like nothing that had ever touched her before
So I think description by absence or negation or whatever you want to call it is especially well-suited for horror, certain kinds of fantasy or sci-fi, and weird fiction in general. Anything where the cast encounters something outside their experience, comprehension, or basis for comparison.

Like, HP Lovecraft catches a lot of flak for how he handles descriptions of this stuff in his cosmic horror, to the point he actually wrote a whole story as a rebuttal to his critics. But if you’ve ever tried to write horrors beyond human comprehension, it’s really hard to do without your descriptions seeming too mundane. So this technique has some real potential in those niches, IMO.
 
Does anyone have anything to add?
Your example seems like the author is making use of the Uncanny Valley effect or Liminal Space (whether intentional or not, I’m not sure, and probably no one but them would know). I’ve known about and been interested in both effects/aesthetics for a while, but I’ve never thought about actually integrating it beyond setting and into the writing itself. I definitely like the idea, though.
 
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