The Power of Three
Writing a triptych, or an essay consisting of three parts, allows the writer to explore a topic in a layered form. Originally from the Greek word triptychos, meaning three folds, the triptych became popular with visual artists in the Middle Ages. Like the artist presenting three separate panels as a singular work, the writer crafts three distinct yet related narratives that form a cohesive whole. This fragmented format can help writers generate new ideas, practice an unconventional structure, or create a scaffolding for a difficult topic.
The triptych rests on a powerful, balanced form – the number three. Narrative is a natural fit for a trio; consider past, present, future or beginning, middle, end. Writers of the triptych aren’t limited to chronology, however. With its repetition of scenes, the triptych also serves a meditative, collage-like approach.
Prose writers and poets can both benefit from the versatile triptych. This segmented form creates new opportunities for meaning along with unspoken connection.
Triptych Examples
Two examples I’ve used to teach the triptych include the poem “Summer Triptych” by Linda Pastan (Poetry.org) and the essay “Anatomy of a Wave: A Triptych” by Lidia Yuknavitch (Orion). Another great example is the essay “Fish” by Nicole Walker (Brevity).
“Summer Triptych” depicts three distinct beach moments. The imagery in each stanza reveals a progression in time, from the kinetic “bucking / broncos of foam” in the first to the tranquil “flaming west” of the sunset in the second. In the third stanza, “the figure in the Nantucket fog,” which “could be Charon transporting souls / across the River Styx,” suggests fading light and life. In her genesis of the poem, Pastan states, “It’s strange how summers from different decades can be yoked together by memory in a single poem.” Imagery evoking time, maturation, and change links three vivid moments.
The essay “Anatomy of a Wave” rides sea waves of science, narrative, and grief. Set on the Oregon Coast, an informative component grounds each segment. The first segment details the energy of water particles, with the second segment clarifying the science of wave motion. A thread of ocean-related personal loss weaves throughout the segments and layers these waves with grief. The third segment imagines a dead whale and a Sitka spruce log, both washed ashore yet providing gradual sites of new life: “And in between the ribs, under the spine, salamanders and insects and arthropods thrive.” In this essay’s nonlinear approach, the triptych form heightens the repetition of waves, loss, and renewal.
Writing the Triptych
Crafting the triptych gives writers an opportunity to practice a nontraditional, segmented structure. Given the economy of the form, the triptych also encourages concrete imagery, scene, and characters. As is often the case with prompts, specific boundaries can house expansive ideas.
To start, writers consider three associated objects or ideas. This series can consist of concrete objects, such as foods, places, or hairstyles. Or for those seeking a challenge, the series can lean into the abstract, such as a trio of events, homes, or crises. Writers generate each of the three parts as single narratives or stanzas while remaining open to any connections that emerge. Depicting the triptych visually on the page with spaces between segments, and/or numbers for each segment or stanza, will distinguish them further.
With a first draft in hand, writers can make their initial assessment. The connections and symmetry in these works of three, even at an early stage, are often evident and surprising; in many cases, a larger meaning surfaces. Writers can coax and refine emerging themes or occasions in later drafts.
___
Gail Folkins often writes about her deep roots in the American West. She is the author of two creative nonfiction books: Light in the Trees and Texas Dance Halls: A Two-Step Circuit. Folkins teaches creative writing at Hugo House and is an editor at Wandering Aengus Press. Find her website here, and reach her on Twitter and Instagram at @gailfolkins
1 comment
Leia Francisco says:
Jan 4, 2024
This piece, wise and warm, renews my interest in the triptych.