Experiencing Sarah Koenig’s expressive and detailed recounting of the events that transpired January 13, 1999 has expanded my perspective of nonfiction and how the genre can use a hodgepodge of mediums to convey meaning. Koenig’s Serial, for instance, combines a meticulous blend of analytical/humanizing rhetoric, music, maps, documents and various other forms of multimedia  to sculpt a complex narrative that we, the listeners, can sit back, absorb, contemplate and interpret at our own leisure. The way Koenig and her colleagues deliberate upon these variables, however, has certain implications at the level of storytelling that differ from traditional, script-based nonfiction. In particular, Serial guides us down its very delineated path with more of a push and a pull than its manuscript counterpart could ever muster. For instance, the perennial introduction with its sharp, exciting score and manner of rehashing previous episodes—”previously on Serial…” and “This is a global tel link prepaid call from… Adnan Syed… an inmate at the Maryland correctional facility,” being constants after episode one—frames the show with a grain of drama, show and glamor reminiscent of popular television. As a microcosm of the podcast’s entertainment value, this narrative device on one level lures me into the next episode at an almost obsessive rate: it engrosses me, entices me, turns me into a giddy and (usually) stringent listener who acknowledges this story as powerful and endearing. Regardless, though, another side of me sees this as gimmicky and exploitative, a way in which manipulative show-artists catalyze the tragic events back in 1999 for the sake of meaningful entertainment. Perhaps it is both. Continue reading →