It seems logical to define storytelling by first defining what a story is. But this is easier said than done. Dictionary definitions often refer to a story as "a narrative, either true or fictitious" while the definition of narrative is "a narrated account of events" or "a story." While this may seem like circular logic, I think approaching a story or narrative as something narrated leads us to the heart of the matter. A story becomes a story by being told.
Story is not itself a series of events, it is an account of those events; it is the synthesis of a creative mind transforming perceptions into meaning. When a work of art employs narrative (and there are few, if any, art forms that do not employ narrative in some way) the narrative is not a particular part of the work that one can point at and say, "Here the work narrates." The narrative is created in the mind of the observer. And that same narrative often originates in the mind of the artist; through some always mysterious alchemy a story is transferred from one consciousness to another, transformed yet whole, despite having disappeared for a moment into a series of signs and symbols in and of themselves meaningless.
A story is created when one person tells a story to another person, or when we tell a story to ourselves -- art is the medium by which that telling happens. So what kind of art form is storytelling?
Storytellers often define the form by what it is not. Storytelling is not a "reading," and storytellers do not read. Storytelling is not theater, and storytellers are not actors. (I have even heard that actors make poor storytellers, because they try to play a part. This is the opposite of storytelling, where the power lies in telling the story yourself.)
The definition provided by the National Storytelling Network's website offers a workable techinical description: "the art of using language, vocalization, and/or physical movement and gesture to reveal the elements and images of a story to a specific, live audience." The basic elements are there. Storytelling is both physical and vocal; storytelling is a live performance, not recorded.
Their definition goes on to emphasize the interactive element of storytelling, how the audience's immediate presence influences the teller to alter the course of each specific performance. But the live, interactive element of storytelling is, for me, much more than just a subtle non-verbal communication between teller and audience that changes inflections and pacing. Even more overt devices, when the audience may literally sing, dance, or tell the story along with the performer, are not at the heart of the what makes storytelling uniquely interactive.
The interactive element of storytelling is tied to the fact that the audience creates the story in their own imaginations -- and that this does not differentiate storytelling from other art forms; it is what ties all narrative expression together. For me, the origin of storytelling is more important than what any single storyteller does when she performs. Storytelling itself is like an origin story of the artistic impulse itself.
Storytelling isn't just live, it's ancient. It's not just physical, it's invisible. It's both portable and ubiquitous. It is an art form we all use in our daily lives -- yet any of us immediately recognizes a master storyteller. Storytelling is part of how we learn, how we love each other, how we worship.
We often talk about storytelling by talking about something known as the "oral tradition," a tradition which supposedly belongs to our primitive history and has now been replaced by the written word and by recorded sound and image. But the oral tradition functions much as it always has and for the same reasons it always has.
Think of something important, something really important that you believe about the world we live in, how we should live, what gives our lives meaning. Think of the last time you tried to communicate this wisdom to someone. Was it live and in-person, using "physical movement or gesture" to tell them about it? Did you have to write it down and then read it aloud, or did you just tell? We may write books or send emails or paint paintings. We may do anything and everything that allows humans to communicate with one another. But if something really matters you tell it, and you tell it like a story.
Storytelling is a difficult art form to define because it is surrounding us constantly -- but also because it is not valued as an art form in our culture. Storytelling is local; it doesn't function as a mass media. It doesn't serve to accumulate capital and is difficult to commodify. The whole point of storytelling is that the moment the story is heard it can be told again by anyone who listens.
Storytelling isn't good at being expensive. Storytelling is good at synthesizing experience, creating community, and communicating wisdom. Storytelling is an integral part of all teaching, especially in its most profound manifestations. (Teaching, like professional storytelling, is largely marginalized in our culture.) Storytelling is of inestimable value to those who do not value what money can buy.
Can you imagine teaching your children right or wrong solely by reading to them or showing them movies? Can you imagine teaching your children right and wrong without telling them stories?
Storytelling appears everywhere, undisguised but unidentified, hiding in plain sight: stand-up comedy, jury trials, business presentations, political speeches. What stories do we want told? Who do we choose to tell them?
Storytelling is a difficult form to define, but once identified it is even more difficult to ignore. By acknowledging it as its own form, we connect ourselves with something profoundly human, something which has always been here, even when we didn't know to call it by its name. And it will be here for us still, even when much of what we know now is gone.