I was listening to a creative writing podcast that was discussing how lazy it is to use looking in a mirror or photo to describe the narrator, when in first person. Now, I often agree, but I think both devices still have their place. He used Charlotte Bronte's description of Jane Eyre, which I honestly think is a masterpiece in how to use a mirror. The podcaster was less enthusiastic but just read how good this is. This is her paragraph.
“Returning, I had to cross before the looking‑glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. All looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality: and the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: I thought it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, Bessie’s evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing before the eyes of belated travellers. I returned to my stool.”
Isn't that fabulous? It says so much more than just giving a pen to a physical description. Anyway, it spurred me on, and inspired by Charlotte, I started creating ideas whilst out running and started to scribble when I got home. I wanted to get someone to describe themselves without describing themselves, if you catch my drift.
If you are interested in having a read, they are below. First draft only, so be warned, they aren't spectacular. But they do give an idea of what my writing looks like on a first pass. After the spell checker obviously, because as you all know, me and the English grammar system are only passing acquaintances. Reading them back, some of poor Jane's gloom clearly informed my writing!
The Photograph
I ran my finger across the man’s face and smiled. Such memories trapped in celluloid and framed against the ravages of time. He was so young, standing in his uniform but even the sepia tones could not hide the strength and passion of his bright blue eyes staring out across the decades. His physique was tall and broad, only marred by a woman hanging off his arm. Her apologetic slouch marred his height as she tried to diminish her own. Her hat was ugly; most hats of that time were, but she seemed to have gone out of her way to find the most disagreeable. Mercifully, it concealed her hair that fizzed and kinked in a beige blanket pulled back by a cotton tie.
Looking at him again, I could see his skin was unblemished and tanned. A man who worked and fought in the fields. His lips were still but from the creases by his eyes you could see he was dying to laugh. The crow beside him looked into the camera, haughty and aloof.
Mary walked in from the kitchen with two cups of tea. She hands me a cup and takes the picture from me, placing it back on the mantelpiece.
‘I love that picture of you two. You were so gorgeous. I bet Dad couldn’t believe his luck.’
The Mirror
I sat and looked at the mirror. It was monstrous large, intricately carved and then smothered in gold leaf. Behind me, the room was similarly furnished. Huge damask curtains in red bled down the side of the windows, revealing manicured park lands beyond. Pristine green lawns were a marked contrast to the gold flock wallpaper within. Many chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystal drops reflecting rainbows onto the various other mirrors in my chamber.
I watched miserably as the staff were fussing back and forth assembling brushes, some for my face, others, for my clothes, more for my hair. So far, no one had approached me and why would they? I was a tiny grey cipher sat perched on my chair, my feet swinging freely, awaiting their primping.
Only when I showed a visage that matched the rest of the mirror’s reflection would they depart. Like a flock of jewelled canaries they would leave in a flurry of giggles ready for their morning’s gossip and flirtations. I doubt I, their princess, would even be mentioned.
So, there we are, two pieces of writing where I don't physically describe the face or body but hopefully you still get a sense of what they look and feel like. Can you picture them? Do you get a feel for them? I hope so.