Frieren: The Framing of a Story
Maybe what happens after the story is the actual story. Maybe not.
Preface!
A few years ago, I wrote an article for The Writer Magazine in which I created my own writing theory. Does that sound as pretentious as I think it did?
Anyway, it was called the Snapshot Theory, and the basic premise is that, if you take any given story, there is more to it before and after the story begins and ends. In said story, we’re seeing a brief snapshot in the timeline of these character’s lives.
Assuming they don’t die.
It’s not particularly revolutionary (can it be, though?), but the point is simply that if you want your story to have the maximum impact, you have to be aware, perhaps even provide context for what happens outside of the frame of the story. And you have to justify what is happening in the frame of your story, and why it wasn’t framed differently.
Enter Frieren, my dearly beloved guinea pig yet again.
Preface over.
Look here, it’s the first time I’m writing about a series I’ve already written about. Which amounts to very little in the end, but hey, here we are.
The first double-up was always going to be Frieren. I say that now, confidently as ever, because Frieren does so many things that you just don’t see very often in manga. The first time I dug into Frieren, we talked about the proportions of the story, how the passage of time happens, action sequences (or lack there of), the focus of the narrative and more.
This time, we’re shifting focus to framing (see what I did there?).
Most stories start at the beginning. Frodo gets the one ring. Luke Skywalker’s home is torched. Harry gets his invite to Hogwarts. That’s the most logical starting point. We want to see the adventure that unfolds when their world changes.
But not everyone’s story begins at the beginning, not even in those universes. Looking at the original Star Wars trilogy, Obi-Wan’s began long before he was tasked with babysitting Luke. Hagrid’s began long before he was… tasked with babysitting Harry. And Boromir’s (always Boromir!) began long before the Council of Elrond.
Frieren starts at the end—”beyond journey’s end," obviously. What does that do for the story? Quite a lot actually. We still get the sense of what the original four adventurers did in their time. They fought the Demon King and won, they saved the world. Which would have been epic to see, like any epic fantasy, but Frieren is not like any epic fantasy. Rather than show us the adventure—which we still get pieces of, mind you—we see what happened to the world and the people involved with the adventure, after said adventure.
Which might come out like an over-explanation, so let’s talk about why this sets Frieren up to be something extraordinary.
By eschewing the actual journey and giving us the follow-up, we get to see the effect of Frieren’s initial journey. All the good things it did, and also the things it didn’t change. There are still bad guys out there that need dealing with. Communities still struggle. People still need help. Saving the world didn’t just outright save the world.
It’s a dose of reality in a dense fantasy world. It’s a slice of life where we so often see monster slaying and magic. Still some of those too, but the slice of life dominates the page, and that’s the framing. That’s a narrative choice.
On a more personal level, it shows the effect of the relationships that Frieren made along the way. Frieren herself is actively exploring what her relationship with Himmel, the hero of the Demon King slaying group, meant to her, and how she felt about him. He’s dead now, she’s not—being immortal and whatnot—and there’s a stark sadness in her that she’s coming to terms with. Almost like she is facing a retroactive character arc while everyone else in her party is facing a proactive arc. They’re in the midst of their one big adventure, but she’s still dealing with the previous adventure in her own way, learning how to move forward and not back.
Not an easy task, even for an immortal elven mage who is wildly (and hilariously) overpowered. This is a foe she can’t magic away. She has to sort through her feelings and her baggage from the previous adventure. At first, on her own, but as she grows into the new adventure more, she begins to lean more on her party members.
Another way to think about this—that sorrow, or that thing resembling sorrow, that Frieren is dealing with, is what Samwise Gamgee is dealing with when Frodo sails away. What would the story look like for Sam after that? Think of the mess of emotions, the joys and sadnesses, and how he would grapple with them. Remember how Frodo never healed from the Morgul blade? Sam will never heal from Frodo’s departure.
Frieren, likewise, is hoping to heal from Himmel being gone, even if it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.
But that’s not even the bulk of the story. It’s this emotionally resonant undercurrent that sustains Frieden’s double-sided character arc.
As mentioned before, while Frieren’s “snapshot” extends in both direction, everyone else in the party is facing their own snapshot moments. It just so happens that every one of their snapshots currently frames them together. It’s the brilliant intersection of fascinating stories as they sprawl out from this point. Most of them sprawl forward, that’s what we actively see, but don’t lose track of what’s going backwards either. And it’s not just Frieren.
Sein is looking for Gorilla, patching up his past.
Stark actively confronts his fear at all times.
Fern is learning how to face adulthood.
Those aren’t visible arcs. Those you have to look outside the framing, or at the very least in the background, but for each character, what you see is just a small portion of who they are. And as I mentioned in my previous exploration of Frieren, that’s what makes it so, so special. It’s commitment to a complete picture.
For creative writers: Think about the framing of your story. What happened before your story began and after it ended?
For fans of Frieren: I try to avoid simple questions, but I don’t think “what’s your favorite character?” is simple for Frieren. So answer that.
Love "The Snapshot Theory". I didn't realize how badly I needed a word for this.
I've often said strong character writing will feel as if you can imagine the characters exist before and after the series/episode ends. Snapshot theory is exactly what I'm looking for in stories, thank you for putting this into words