mere details

I'm a horrible storyteller, because I often worry too much about getting the details right. A good storyteller glosses over the finer points and simply relays the general theme in an entertaining way. Unfortunately, this is also the breeding ground for urban legends, and turns folklore into a game of "telephone." Real news items often become distorted and exaggerated over time, depending on who's telling the tale and what they want their audience to hear. That's how a few isolated incidents of razor blades being hidden in Halloween candy turns into a nationwide epidemic, or a man who attached weather balloons to a lawn chair plunged to his death over the Pacific Ocean "last year" -- quite an amazing feat since he committed suicide in 1993.

One might think that mere details in storytelling are unimportant, so long as the message stays the same. Ah, but it's those details that make the message evolve as it spreads from one person to the next. Even in an age where much folklore is sent through e-mail, people edit them to suit their needs. Usually the first thing someone will add is, "This really happened!" See, it's not good enough to listen to a parable of a little boy giving blood to his sister, even though he thinks it will kill him; no no, it's much better if we claim it was a real-life event that just happened recently -- rather than a story that's been around since at least 1925. The great thing about folklore is, the fewer details you give, the harder it is to prove it false (never mind that it also makes it more difficult to prove true).

Another example is the story of "Kyle," the suicidal teenager who had his life changed by a compassionate boy from the "other" crowd. This story originally came from the first Chicken Soup for the Soul book, published in 1993, but once it splashed onto the internet in the late '90s, it suddenly took a few turns. First, the names were changed, so right off the bat, if we are to believe this is a true story, we've lost the battle. Next, a boy tripping over his own feet is instead targeted by a gang of bullies. Instead of spending a few hours together, Kyle and the boy spend the weekend together. Instead of being acquaintences throughout high school, Kyle is worked into the boy's circle of friends and becomes one of the most popular kids in school. Apparently this does wonders for his physical appearance too, as he's described as "handsome" toward the end. The cynical and skeptical Barbara Mikkelson of snopes.com also points out that "Kyle" originally told the boy this story in private, rather than revealing it at a commencement ceremony to thundrous applause; thus, the story implies that works of Good Samaritanism will be greatly rewarded, rather than some clunky old tale about two boys who barely knew each other.

I see another cynical interpretation as well. We're led to believe that, because the boy was willing to take a chance on befriending Kyle, he learned that they really weren't so different. After all, they both like football, hanging out with friends, and all the usual stuff teenagers like to do. Well, that's fine, if they really weren't so different. But what if they were? What if Kyle didn't like football, and instead enjoyed reading books and seeing musicals? Then would he have turned into the handsome and popular commencement speaker we so joyously wept with one balmy day in early June?

One could write that off as mere exaggeration of details to make for a more entertaining story, but I maintain the original version offers a better moral than the revision. In the original, we're taught that a simple act of kindness can change a person's life, whereas in the latter, it takes an entire four years of friendship and companionship (not to mention mutual tastes and interests) to effect a change.

Really, then, which is the more impressive tale?