I've been reading depositions, and I think they should be required reading for any fiction writer trying to learn about dialogue. The way real people talk, even in a situation that is somewhat formal and artificial, where everyone comes into the room prepped and slightly hostile to one another, is peppered with false starts, interruptions, and great colloquialisms. Nobody actually talks in complete sentences. People say "Yup" or "Yeah" or "Unh Huh" instead of "Yes." The answer to a question like "Did the price go down after that?" won't be one of the above -- it'll be "Like a rocket." (Rockets go down?) And at least in the depos I've been reading, people really seem to want to be liked, and understood. Lawyers, the deponent, everyone wants to explain.
Of course, if the dialogue in a novel were written really true-to-life it would be very difficult to figure out what people are saying. Fragments of sentences. Interruptions and asides and trail-offs. Strange phraseology. Vagueness of words, explained by gestures and intonation not on the record. Some lawyers have overcome all these habits and instincts governing the way regular folks communicate, and have mastered their own oral expressions for perfect clarity in a transcript -- what an art form. Fascinating.
I think that's why I like Mamet. His dialogue is very similar to the real world of deposition dialogue.
Posted by: TPB, Esq. | January 30, 2004 at 05:25 PM
A fine post, with which I entirely agree!
The "art" you refer to is a very real one and takes years to perfect. The best way to do it is to read lots of transcripts especially transcripts of your own questioning with a critical eye. Watching videotaped depositions can also be very useful in a complementary way. Choosing deposition excerpts to offer at trial (or to use for editing down a videotape deposition for trial presentation) teaches you a lot about effective structure and organization of a good direct or cross-examination. Finally, working on appellate briefs from a case you've tried (or at least watched) is painfully educational.
Eventually it becomes instinctive. After two decades of practicing the art, though, I'm still learning it, but I'm vastly better than when I started. And once the skills become instinctive, you're freed up to actually get your head out of your outline and listen to what witnesses are saying, which makes all the difference in the world.
Posted by: Beldar | February 02, 2004 at 10:11 AM
Interesting and provocative post. However, "mastering the art" becomes possible only to a very limited extent when the matter involves a biilingual depo (e.g., English-Spanish). When there are witnesses who need an interpreter, the vagueness, cultural aspects, and purely linguistic peculiarities inhering in the exchange render the lawyers' "mastery" of the art form rather moot. The best the lawyer can hope for most of the time in such a situation is an approximation.
Posted by: Pablo | July 31, 2005 at 02:14 PM
What about the bilingual depo? The depo with witnesses who speak through an interpreter? Does the complexity of dialogue increase in such situations? Does the "mastery of the art form" also increase in difficulty? Does it depend on the native language of the witnesses? The competency of the interpreter? The nature of the case?
Posted by: Pablo | July 31, 2005 at 02:32 PM