Writing Tip: The Mouri Principle
My Second Born is a huge fan of the Japanese anime/manga series Detective Conan (known outside of Japan as “Case Closed”). I won’t go into the details of what the show’s about (there’s a whole Detective Conan Wiki you can look at for that) but suffice to say, it’s about a boy detective who helps the police solve crimes. Each adventure normally features recurring police officers, and a private invesitgator, Kogoro Mouri. They do the official police work, but in the end it’s Conan who makes all the clever observations and deductions, and solves the mystery.
Kogoro Mouri is well-respected by the police as a skilled investigator, largely because Conan makes sure he gets the credit for solving the crimes. (To explain why would involve more plot explanation than necessary for this article. Let’s just say it would attract unwelcome attention for a six-year-old boy to be solving complex mysteries that have the police baffled.) Kogoro is, in fact, a bumbling, borderline alcoholic who couldn’t investigate his way out of a paper bag. He is usually quick to make wrong accusations based on the flimsiest evidence. And therein lies what I call “The Mouri Principle.”
I haven’t watched nearly as much Detective Conan as my daughter, but I’ve noticed a recurring theme that may be true with other detective series, but is certainly true with Detective Conan. You see, almost without fail, Kogoro Mouri will accuse someone of the crime, and almost without fail that person is shown to be completely innocent. Because of this, we, the viewers, can apply the Mouri Principle to help us solve the mystery: “Whoever Kogoro Mouri accuses is almost certainly NOT guilty and can be eliminated from our list of suspects.” Regardless of whatever evidence or facts he may bring forward, because it’s Kogoro Mouri, and we know his reputation as an incompetent investigator, we know we can’t trust him to be right when he’s operating on his own. That’s the Mouri Principle.
If you’re writing detective fiction, this, I think, is something to beware of. You don’t want your readers to dismiss a potential suspect simply on the grounds that a character who is known to be unreliable accuses him. If you see that happening in your stories, make a change. Perhaps your “Kogoro Mouri” could actually accuse the right person, but for the wrong reasons. Your detective could rip apart his reasoning, which might instill a false sense of security in the accused (and your reader), but then end up coming to the same conclusion and accusing the same person.
Whatever our genre, we should make sure our characters don’t become too predictable. We may get to know people well enough to be able to anticipate the things they will say and do–but people often surprise us. I think it keeps our stories–and our characters–more interesting if they occasionally say and do the unexpected. Maybe the class jerk does something genuinely nice, or the stupid character makes an astute observation that no-one takes seriously, but proves to be key to the plot.
I hope this is helpful to you!
Great insight and advice! I think it’s a good idea to keep readers on their toes by (like you say) having characters do or say the unexpected. Isn’t that what makes stories interesting? I read a book in the fall that was so full of stereotypical, cardboard cutout teen characters that I found myself annoyed while reading it. Wouldn’t it be so much more interesting to have those stereotypes turned on their hand while still being believable? I’d love to read something like that!
I’ve never been into Anime/Manga. My brother was a big-time Sailor Moon fan back in the day, so I’m up on my ‘Tuxedo Mask’ and all that, but I always found them a little odd. This particular one that you mention sounds kind of intriguing to me and I might have to check it out 🙂
Whoops: I meant turned on their ‘head’ not turned on their ‘hand’. Duh O_o
Thanks, Jaime. It’s so easy to be lazy and fall into character stereotypes–and there are so many of them in YA (hormonal teens, over-doting or under-attentive parents, smart girls, stupid boys, etc.), so we really have to watch our step. Sure, people like these exist in real life (I knew smart girls and stupid boys at school), but sometimes the smart girl gets drunk at the party, and sometimes the stupid boy says no to his stupider friends. 🙂
Sailor Moon was one of the first anime series my daughter watched, and I think was largely responsible for starting her on her love of all things Japanese that continues to this day.
My girls are big on anime and Manga, so I’ll have to see if they know this one.
You make a great point here. I’ve seen it so many times, both in book series and TV. You know who the ‘one’ is by the point at which he’s introduced/by who, or whatever.
My daughter tells me the series has been running almost non-stop for a number of years on Japanese television–it’s very popular, it seems. One thing these series creators do well, IMO, is characterization. They seem to take time to create individuals with their own strengths and weaknesses. The heroes can be moody and make mistakes, and the villains are not always all bad. As I said in the article, Kogoro Mouri is a good guy, but he is borderline alcoholic. He’s also easily distracted by pretty girls, and has a highly inflated view of his own talent.
There’s always a danger, too, of series falling into a formula, so if you get used to the formula, you can anticipate how the story will play out, and who committed the offense. One of the reasons I enjoy Columbo is the fact you know from the outset who did it, so the story can concentrate on how Columbo figures it out from the evidence left, despite the criminal’s best attempt to cover it up.
Great post. We need to keep our readers on their toes and make sure our writing is the best it can be!! 🙂
Indeed! Thanks, Margo. 🙂
Good point! It will definitely detract from a story or stories if there’s a repeating, and therefore predictable, element.
Thanks, Golden Eagle. 🙂