Prologue

Prologues have come in and out of fashion over time; some writers find them useful, others dismiss them as outdated and overused. They continue to be used in plays and novels.

What is a prologue?

A prologue is used at the beginning of a novel or play to tell an earlier part of the story and to introduce the characters. A prologue is an independent section that can appear before a novel, play or opera. It may explain something of what will happen in the main story, or be used to set the scene or introduce a reoccurring theme that will appear in the story.

On stage, the prologue will be given either to one of the characters or to the designated ‘chorus’ performer. The chorus is a leftover from the Greek chorus in plays from the ancient period. Originally the chorus was a group of actors who would recite together. This gradually devolved into one actor reciting before the curtain rises on the action.

The prologue to Medea is rather long. Medea’s nurse has a good bit of background information to get across to the audience: Jason’s arrival, Medea’s love for him, their children, followed by his forthcoming marriage to another princess:

(Euripides, Prologue from Medea, 431 B.C., tr. E.P.Coleridge)

All of this is told to explain to the audience what stage they are at in the legend of Jason.

In a prologue, the backstory is often given - rather like at the beginning of new TV seasons (particularly US ones) that provide a catch up (the story so far) so the audience knows where they are in the story.

Chaucer’s Prologue to Canterbury Tales is even longer, introducing each of the characters (over twenty of them!) and explaining how they shall each tell a tale to help pass the time on their pilgrimage.

(The pilgrims' host here suggests that everyone should take it in turns to tell two tales on the way to Canterbury, and another two tales on the way back. The best storyteller shall be rewarded with a free meal ('Shal have a soper at oure aller cost'/ Shall have a supper at all our cost) when they return from Canterbury ('whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury'))

In Shakespeare’s time, theatres could be rather rowdy places, with the audience standing around the stage, ready with fruit to eat (if they enjoyed the play) or throw (if they didn’t enjoy it). The prologue was particularly useful in that situation as a way of telling the audience what to expect beforehand (and with any luck, reduce the amount of fruit thrown).

Here, the performer explains how, in Verona, a pair of ‘star-crossed lovers’ will meet and then kill themselves as a result of their families’ constant enmity. Only by their deaths will the two families bury their grudges. This will be the main content, or ‘traffic’, of their story on stage for the next two hours. The prologue ends with the promise that anything the audience misses, the actors will attempt to explain:

Roughly translated, the prologue explains where the play will take place, what has happened already (giving background information about the two warring families) and what the audience can expect:

‘Our play is set in fair Verona and is about two families of equal status who are enemies over an old grudge.

Their children, our star-crossed lovers of the play, meet, fall in love, and kill themselves as a result of their families’ enmity.

This will be the story of our play for the next two hours - what is missing from this prologue, we shall attempt to explain (in the play), if you listen carefully.’

Preface vs. prologue

A preface is another kind of introduction that appears in the front matter of a book; it appears most often in non-fiction, for example in academic books. It gives the author an opportunity to talk directly to the reader, and explain their approach and qualification for writing about the subject matter of the book.

The preface to Amadeus was written in 1981, two years after the enormously successful opening of Amadeus in London. In it Schaffer modestly introduces the play's success at the National Theatre. He then goes on to describe the changes he made before its production in America - not, he explains, because the play had been a failure (it clearly wasn't) but because he felt 'emboldened ... to try to improve it.' He then details what he felt was wrong with the play. For example, Salieri 'had too little to do with Mozart's ruin.' He was the observer and not the actor.

'In this new version', Schaffer explains, 'he seems ... to stand where he properly belongs - at the wicked centre of the action.' Schaffer then goes on to explain other changes, and gives generous praise to those directors and actors who helped his play to shine on stage. He closes with a note of deep gratitude to his publisher.

The preface in this case gives the reader interesting background detail about the making of the play at different stages of the process. It includes the reader in the play's transition from London to America, and its further development with varying casts and directors.

Prologue & epilogue

Think of a shelf with a row of books on it. The problem is, the books at each end of the shelf keep slipping off. Solution? Find some bookends: they enclose the books, and nothing slips off anymore.

In a sense, this is how a prologue and epilogue work: they stop the loose ends from slipping out. The prologue helps to set the scene, introduce a main character or two, give some backstory. Then the main story can begin.

The epilogue helps to tie things up: those minor characters who might or might not go off together, the missing pet dog that finally returns, or anything else the author didn’t have opportunity to explain during the rushed pace of the central narrative.

Fig. 1 - Prologue and epilogue bookends.

Prologue and epilogue have had a stormy ride over time - sometimes vilified, sometimes mocked, and sometimes held up as a necessity, they are useful tools for moulding the shape of a narrative and giving the story a satisfying conclusion.

They are to be found in ancient and modern literature, plays and films.

(Shakespeare, Prologue to Henry V, lines 27-35, 1599)

The opening to Schaffer's Amadeus goes further; it begins in total darkness, and the audience hears only whispers:

(Schaffer, Act 1, Scene 1, Amadeus, 1979)

In this way, Schaffer reintroduces the idea of the classic Greek Chorus. Here the citizens of Vienna become the chorus, whispering the words 'Assassin' and 'Salieri'. By doing this they set up atmosphere (through sound) as well as indicating that we are entering the story long after the death of Mozart. That story is going to be told (in flashback). With two simple words hissed in darkness, Schaffer orchestrates a chilling, intriguing prologue to what is to follow.

The epilogue, then, comes at the end, after the main action has finished.

Puck ties up loose ends in Midsummer Night’s Dream, offering an apology to the audience:

”If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber’d here

While these visions did appear.

…

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.” (V, i. 440-455)

Other epilogues can be found in Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone and The Woman in White: the final threads and clues are drawn together, and a happy ending for the main characters is celebrated.

In George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the epilogue serves to show how power ultimately corrupts all who wield it.

In film, a hint is often given to indicate things to come in a possible sequel.

Prologues have their uses; it depends on the author and why they need to have one. If you want to jump into your story straight away without any warning (and plenty of people do) then your story probably doesn’t need one. The question an author will ask before using a prologue is how much the reader or audience really needs to know before the story starts.