You may well have heard the phrase ‘Chekhov’s gun’ thrown about in reference to movies, books or TV shows. It’s an interesting dramatic principle, and once you’re aware of it you’ll probably recognise examples everywhere. Including in your own work!
What is it, and why is it called Chekhov’s gun in the first place?
When people talk about Chekhov’s gun, they’re typically talking about one of two things:
- The principle that details introduced to a narrative will pay off later, or;
- A specific example of a detail in a story that turns out to be important later on.
In either case, it’s fundamentally about the importance of the link between set-up and pay-off in stories.
As for where the gun comes in, we have Anton Chekhov to thank for that. Chekhov was a nineteenth-century writer, and he liked to give advice to his fellow storytellers. His most famous piece of advice was, “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.”
In other words, don’t draw attention to things unless they’re going to matter later on. No set-up without pay-off.
You can find examples of Chekhov’s gun in action in most stories
Whenever you introduce an object, character trait, place – anything, really – to the story and it turns out to be significant later, that’s Chekhov’s gun. I picked out a couple of examples from books that I particularly like!
Uprooted, Agnieszka’s gift for foraging
In Uprooted, Naomi Novik has the protagonist tell us some stories from her childhood. One trait that’s emphasised is that she’s particularly comfortable out in nature, and has a gift for picking out wild-growing fruit that’s good and safe to eat. Later, we learn that Agnieszka has magic, and is particularly attuned to the natural world for that reason.
Darius the Great is Not Okay, Darius and his tea
Darius is a big fan of tea, making it and drinking it, which he makes clear to us on the very first page. Because of this, we know later when he makes tea for his family in Iran what a big deal it is for him, and how much he wants them to enjoy it. It gives that moment higher stakes and increases our investment in the outcome.
Is Chekhov’s gun foreshadowing?
Chekhov’s gun isn’t explicitly the same as foreshadowing, although the two ideas are linked. One fundamental difference is that Chekhov’s gun, unlike foreshadowing, isn’t a technique. It’s a rule to follow (or break, more on that later) rather than a literary device that you can use.
Foreshadowing then is a technique that makes use of Chekhov’s gun. If you’re using foreshadowing in your work, you’re introducing details that will be relevant to later plot developments. The fact that those details will pay off later is an example of Chekhov’s gun working the way it should.
Do you always have to follow the rule?
Yes and no. One thing to bear in mind is that the rule of Chekhov’s gun refers as much to reader expectations as anything you might do. If you choose to introduce and draw attention to story elements that you have no intention of revisiting, you’re probably going to annoy readers.
You can play with the rule though, for example by introducing red herrings into your story. Murder mysteries often introduce elements that look like they’re going to pay off in one way (with one of the suspects being the murderer) only to explain later that the ‘evidence’ was pure coincidence, or related to something completely different to the crime at hand.
It’s also worth noting that not every detail you mention has to become crucial to the final act of the story, or part of some big twist. Chekhov’s gun primarily means that you shouldn’t introduce details to your story unless those details mean something. Let’s say you make a point of telling us that your protagonist always puts her keys on the same hook by the front door when she gets home from work. There are a few different ways that could play out. Maybe somebody steals them from there. Maybe her character arc involves her becoming less rigid in her routines. In that case, you can use her doing something different with the keys as an indication for the readers of the change in her. Maybe she can’t find them one morning and it completely freaks her out, undermining her faith in her own mental stability.
Any of those things would be fine, and there are a bunch of other ways you could use it as well. What would not be fine would be to tell us that this character always puts her keys on the same hook by the front door, and then never reference the keys or the hook again.
Can you think of any examples of Chekhov’s gun in your writing?
Let me know in the comments if you can think of anything in your work that either follows the rule or plays with it!
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