in media res: into the middle of affairs; often used when discussing novels that begin partway through the story. For example, The Iliad starts partway through the Trojan War, not at its beginning.
So many movies and television show episodes don’t start with the traditional storytelling arc anymore. We don’t get so much back story at the beginning, and the pattern doesn’t follow a linear progression throughout. It’s the same with books as well. Famously, The Chronicles of Narnia begins when the Pevensie siblings end up in the magical land of Narnia for the first time, but it is really only the beginning of their journey and not the beginning of Narnia itself. That is finally explained in the sixth book in the series. The Butterfly Effect bends time so the beginning isn’t really the beginning. And the television series Revolution shows a world without electricity, then backtracks in flashbacks to show how it came to be, and what role each person we’ve already been introduced to has played in it.
But why is it so popular now? Why aren’t we as intrigued as we used to be by a straight narrative? There used to always be a start, a middle, and an end, and it was told to us in that manner, straight down a timeline that warmed our hearts because it was familiar. Perhaps that’s it, after all. Its familiarity is too mundane, too boring for us and our sensibilities these days. We need to have mystery, plot twists galore, in order to keep us focused, to keep us interested and not looking for the “next big thing.”
And don’t get me wrong, if it’s done right, a story told in a non-chronological fashion can be excellent to read or to watch. It’s those times when the medium fails that I begin to worry about why everyone seems to think we need difference. I read books by Danielle Steel and Jackie Collins and I’m reminded of how the standard can grow old and tired, but then I read works like Safe Harbor and The Associate and I’m reminded of just how good the conventional… convention can be.
It’s okay to like a story told almost entirely in flashbacks, or to have the timeline distorted, like in The Time Traveler’s Wife, or to have the perspective shifted, like in Gone Girl, or in Drowning Ruth. If a story is told well, then that story transcends the form in which it is told. If it is told poorly, no construct can save it, no matter how expertly explained or detailed. That being said, I prefer the classic setup, but I don’t mind starting the story in the middle. It becomes a mystery in and of itself. Why did the author, the director, the script writer tell the story from that particular point? How does it change the story, and how are the mysteries unveiled to the audience?
Perhaps I like the idea of starting somewhere other than the beginning because when we meet new people we aren’t privy to their back stories. We find out sometimes, and sometimes we don’t, but that doesn’t change who they were before they met us, or who they will be when we are out of their lives. In media res is a matter of life imitating art, and that’s a beautiful thing, even when it leaves us with more questions than answers.
Sam