The very short story seeks to capture the defining features of a specific social moment, ending in a nonconventional manner that is not necessarily connected to the semantic progression of the tale.
Souad Khalil | Libya
The evolution of literary forms is closely connected to the changing ways in which human experience is perceived, interpreted, and expressed. Within this ongoing process, the very short story has emerged as a distinctive narrative form that raises important questions about the nature of storytelling, the organization of narrative elements, and the relationship between form and meaning. Its artistic identity cannot be understood solely through its outward appearance; rather, it requires a closer examination of its structural principles, narrative techniques, and expressive possibilities.
Despite the growing presence of the very short story in contemporary literature, its relationship with the conventional short story continues to invite critical discussion. Where does the distinction between the two forms lie? How do narrative structure, temporal compression, rhythm, and language contribute to shaping the identity of the very short story? And to what extent do these characteristics reflect broader transformations in literary expression?
These questions provide a starting point for examining the concept of the very short story, its structure, and its form. By considering its defining features and the critical perspectives surrounding its development, this article seeks to explore the artistic principles that distinguish it as a narrative mode and situate it within the broader evolution of modern literature.
The very short story is no longer merely an abbreviated version of the short story, nor can it be regarded simply as a narrative text whose length has been reduced while retaining the same underlying structure. Rather, it is the product of transformations that have affected narrative writing, prompting a reconsideration of the relationship between the tale, narration, time, and language. Consequently, defining the concept of the very short story and identifying its artistic characteristics have remained subjects of critical debate, particularly because of the formal similarities it may share with the short story, even as its internal structure reveals deeper differences.
The question of the very short story goes beyond the number of words or pages to examine how a tale is constructed, how narration unfolds within a narrow temporal space, and how events can be condensed without losing their capacity to produce an artistic effect. Length alone is not a sufficient criterion for determining literary genre, just as external formal similarities do not necessarily imply that two forms are artistically identical. From this perspective, this article seeks to examine the very short story through its structure and form, identifying the principal characteristics that distinguish it from the short story while considering the transformations that contributed to the emergence of this narrative form and established its particular identity within the modern literary landscape.
It is not easy to define the characteristics of the very short story. It represents a turning point within the framework that defines the short story, and its distinctive features have developed in ways that differ from the latter in certain fundamental respects, even though the two forms may share similarities in appearance. Form alone cannot serve as the principal criterion for distinguishing between these two narrative genres. From the outset, we must acknowledge the existence of differences in their narrative structures as a whole, and even form itself plays a role in this distinction. Similarities in the texture of their external forms are not sufficient grounds for separating or classifying them. Such similarities belong to the general nature of the narrative form, since its formal characteristics depend on this underlying texture. Even when the two modes share similar forms, this does not mean that they are identical or lack distinctive characteristics.
In a brief article attempting to clarify the concept of the structure and form of the very short story, Mohammed Younes wrote:
There are many stories that belong to both types and that, from an artistic perspective, display both differences and affinities through the artistic systems that lead to the emergence of two distinct forms. The characteristics of the very short story have not yet become sufficiently clear to distinguish it immediately from the short story. Just as form has been one of the frameworks that have restricted the scope of the very short story, we find that one of the most prominent pioneers of this genre, O. Henry, among others, wrote very short stories that exceeded in length some short stories produced in other countries. Nevertheless, their form placed them under the heading of the very short story. O. Henry’s experience represented a pioneering achievement whose characteristics were clearly defined, although some narrow-minded perspectives place Edgar Allan Poe within this category on the grounds that the length of his stories corresponds to this designation. Nathalie Sarraute also developed a new narrative form described in similar terms.
The essential horizon of society, both collectively and individually, and through its particular perspectives, depends on this horizon, which is distinguished by its continuous diversity in conveying human sensations. Several characteristics of structure, narrative unity, and narrative direction in the very short story differ, to some extent, from those found in the short story. These differences themselves vary: sometimes they are partial and concern one of the constituent elements; at other times, they are aesthetic in nature. As those of us interested in literature, we must not overlook the gravity of the misunderstandings and errors that arise in both interpretation and writing practice. There is a kind of spontaneous expansion taking place, and this, too, is regrettable, because literary activity, in all its forms, has its own identity and general rules that establish the framework for creative work and production and help define the nature of the literary genre being written.
The very short story seeks to capture the defining features of a specific social moment, ending in a nonconventional manner that is not necessarily connected to the semantic progression of the tale. Instead, its ending to some extent negates those very features, without any explicit report, indication, or even a semantic context. The story consistently relies on a continuous level of reporting that resembles, to some extent, the concept of the unity of an image. Ultimately, however, it dismantles that unity through an element that was not anticipated in the first place.
Narration appears to accelerate its rhythm, expanding the scope of temporal unity so that the narrative act, through the interrelationship between the story and its telling, can prepare the ground for the unexpected. The familiar triad that constitutes the organic framework of narrative—story, tale, and narration—therefore undergoes an adjustment imposed by the extremely rapid movement of narration, an adjustment intended to shape and bring the story into being.
This adjustment produces two parallel characteristics. The first concerns the tale as the bearer of meaning, while the second concerns narration as the instrumental means through which the tale is conveyed. The time associated with these two dimensions is not affected by the fragmentation that the tale undergoes as a result of extreme speed. Rather, it functions as a structure capable of accommodating technical changes in the movement of narration. In this way, the spatial-temporal dimension of narrative plays a role in preserving the artistic order of the story.
Naturally, this particular mode of the very short story strips the tale down to little more than the act of reporting. The sequence of events becomes informational rather than semantic, as is generally the case in the short story. The stories may vary and differ, but their variations remain within the confines of reporting. This, of course, is not an outright reproduction of the stories of the American writer O. Henry. Nor is it an application of his work. Rather, it constitutes a form of theoretical reflection, except when examining the mechanical movement of his stories, their artistic level, and their distinguishing features. Even then, the approach does not involve the analysis of particular texts but proceeds from the premise that his collection 500 Very Short Stories, taken as a whole, does not differ significantly from the model proposed here. In our view, these stories are, frankly, the fundamental origins of narrative discourse in this field.
Every age must possess a meaning of life that corresponds to its particular circumstances. The pioneers of the short story, such as Guy de Maupassant, Edgar Allan Poe, Anton Chekhov, and even Jack London, Herman Melville, and others, were primarily concerned with interpreting the story in relation to society. They contributed to defining the contours of the social horizon, describing not merely its outward appearance but also its underlying dimensions. The works of Kafka and Chekhov, in particular, sought to explore society’s psychological essence.
Perhaps we should make an exception for the German short-story writer Wolfgang Borchert, who is considered one of the finest short-story writers among us, despite his brief life. Through the criteria of genre classification, we might also accept that his stories took a winding course, bringing them, to some extent, into alignment with the artistic structure of the very short story. In terms of meaning, they come closer to satisfying this classification than Nathalie Sarraute’s Tropisms. Sarraute’s texts, however, are almost closer to prose sketches than to conventional stories, and their orientation is primarily sensory. In other words, they can be classified as stories only if we establish reasons for the disappearance of narrative language or explain why it has been replaced by a language of sensation.
It was inevitable, however, that these subsequent developments in the mechanics of storytelling, together with the breaking of social and historical constraints imposed by traditional form, would become one of the direct causes of the short story’s revolt against the aging form of its own tale. For centuries, we have seen the apple remain on its tree and the cactus retain the same thorns, while painting has reached the horizon of abstraction and the expression of spiritual eloquence. Poetry, despite the historical rigidity of meter, has also moved toward free verse.
According to specialists, the forces of modernity have a direct influence on forms of writing and their patterns. Lucien Goldmann argues that there is no fixed and final condition that successive generations of artists and writers must discover with absolute precision. He attributes this to the fact that the nature of human reality is dynamic and changes throughout history. These changes are linked to differences among people, including writers themselves.
The human role in the story is comparable to the human role in reality. The very short story was therefore a natural response to changing circumstances, just as similar developments occurred in poetry, the visual arts, cinema, and theatre.
The very short story has not been adequately studied in terms of its functions, its distinctive mode of constructing the tale, storytelling, and narration, or the mechanisms through which these three characteristics are employed. Instead, most attention has focused on its general form as an entity, although this approach is customary in the study of any written material, particularly the narrative genre. Biologically speaking, a living organism grows and develops before eventually reaching its end, and this is the limit at which the story also comes to an end.
The very short story undoubtedly possesses a comparable characteristic within its organic framework, which Roland Barthes calls the “body of the written matter.” In his essay “From Work to Text,” Barthes states: “The text demonstrates its existence and renews itself according to certain rules or in opposition to certain rules.”
Within a literary genre, however, these rules constitute foundations through which the particularities of technique are expressed, and these particularities may differ in direction and development. An unobjective and unscientific understanding assumes, in a linear fashion, that the very short story is generally, or aesthetically, a shorter organic unit than the short story.
I do not understand how the two forms can be linked through this interpretation based on spatial length rather than function. Naturally, this view fails to establish a clear preliminary framework for writing as a system that enables the narrative art form to assume its predetermined shape within the realm of conceptual expectation. Thus, the mistaken idea has expanded and exerted a direct influence on the confusion, conflation, and misclassification that occur in the process of identifying literary production. It has reinforced the erroneous assumption, which has subsequently spread through reading and writing. The two concepts have become intertwined following the dismantling of classifications and the widespread acceptance of an unscientific belief.
This belief allows its adherents to impose their own colouring on the system of a literary text, thereby reinforcing their particular understanding of writing. The scientific truth in this context does not reside in the physical entity of the text or in its literary title, which serves as its identifying icon, but rather in its classificatory definition. A considerable number of stories remain uncertain in terms of their true classification, even though their authors have assigned them to particular categories according to their own beliefs. As a result, the signifier retreats from its actual identity through a signified meaning that is assumed to possess a truth based on belief.
Naturally, this particular tendency and the diversity of beliefs surrounding it cannot easily invalidate what is theoretically and methodologically more accurate and appropriate. There is, of course, a historical reality to the narrative text that cannot be shaken. Similarly, the theory of the narrative text, whether it follows the conventional path or deviates from it, cannot be understood through conceptual belief alone. Rather, it intersects, to some extent, with the actual practice of writing.
This is what distinguishes the short story from the very short story. Each possesses a body that can be perceived by our visual senses, yet an underlying system ensures that one can be distinguished from the other. They can only be differentiated through a methodological approach, despite their shared contribution to literary impact as an artistic and aesthetic value.
Structure is the means through which we perceive this difference, while the technical framework governing the organization of the text provides a basis for distinguishing between the two concepts. Naturally, other secondary factors also contribute to identifying differences and highlighting their distinctive characteristics.
Among the most important criteria for distinguishing between the short story and the very short story are the form and content of narration, as well as the informational nature of the tale, which may lack semantic depth and clearly defined meanings. Narrative rhythm also differs: it does not proceed at its usual or conventional pace but accelerates to the greatest possible extent in order to achieve its intended effect. Language, in this context, does not possess a broad expressive range. Instead, its function is narrowly defined, as though it were a mirror reflecting the form of the tale and reproducing its outward appearance.
In light of the foregoing, the very short story is not simply a short story whose length has been reduced; it is a narrative form with its own artistic logic and distinctive mechanisms. The difference between the two forms is not determined by length alone. It is shaped primarily by structure, the organization of the tale, the pace of narration, the function of language and narrative discourse, and the nature of the relationship between events and meaning.
Perhaps what most clearly establishes the distinctive identity of the very short story is its ability to construct a condensed narrative world within a limited space, in which every word and every narrative movement becomes an integral part of its artistic structure. Approaching this form therefore requires critical awareness that moves beyond judgements based solely on length, toward an examination of the functions of its constituent elements and the mechanisms through which they operate. Ultimately, the very short story represents one manifestation of the evolution of narrative and its response to transformations in human experience and reality. In this respect, it resembles the developments that have taken place in poetry, the visual arts, cinema, and theatre, reaffirming that literature does not exist within fixed forms but continually searches for new modes of expression capable of articulating the questions and realities of its age.
Read: A Handful of Pink Atoms
_____________
Souad Khalil, hailing from Benghazi Libya, is a writer, poet, and translator. She has been writing on culture, literature and other general topics.
