What’s an anecdote?

 An anecdote is a kind of story, limited in a peculiar way. Instead of trying to show the universal humanity of the subject, the anecdote tries to illustrate a quirk of personality. The anecdote is interested in the individuality of the individual, rather than in what the individual can tell us about humanity.

That’s a stab at a working definition. It’s highly provisional. I’m already dubious and will stab again tomorrow.

What’s going on here?

My friend Christopher Cook, hearing I was trying to write a short story, took me on a tour of short fiction. He recalled the short features in Reader’s Digest, such as “Humor in Uniform” and “Life in These United States.” He asked whether such short pieces were really stories.

 

Would they be better called anecdotes, sketches, reminiscences, briefs, impressions, incidents, or the like? In short, what constitutes a story? 

 

It’s a complex question. Since I love anecdotes, I thought I’d peel that topic off and start there. 

My stab at a working definition owes much to Clifton Fadiman, who asked whether the story of van Gogh’s ear could be considered an anecdote. Fadiman said it was “too complex, in a sense too important, to qualify as an anecdote.” 
I’m trying to suggest why that story is too important to qualify. A person’s individual quirks, as interesting as they are, don’t tell us much about a person’s struggle to be human.

• Sources and notes: The Brown, Little Book of Anecdotes, edited by Clifton Fadiman; Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1985, p. xv.

Christopher Cook is known for his novel Robbers; New York: Carroll & Graf, 2000. I have three collections of his stories on my shelf: Screen Door Jesus & Other Stories, The Salvage Yard and Tongues of Fire.