Amazing use of backstory and symbolism (or why Juliet Burke might not be dead)

This week was the penultimate season finale for Lost, one of the most intricately written shows I've ever watch. You can complain about the pace of the first three seasons or the confusion of the time travel this season, but the show has been a clinic on character development and the use of symbolism and foreshadowing.

Which brings me to Juliet Burke. The last time we saw Juliet, she had set off a hydrogen bomb, presumably killing herself and perhaps many of the other characters. Given her proximity--a couple feet from the bomb--and the fact that Elizabeth Mitchell, the actress who plays her, will be in another series next year, Juliet is definitely dead.

Then there's her name, Juliet. She died at the end of Romeo and Juliet. But the writers have left a series of innocuous clues that make her fate cloudy.

In season two of the show, Juliet was sentenced to death, but Ben, another major character, commuted the sentence, but ordered her to be marked on the back. The mark (displayed above) was perceived as a punishment--and it must have hurt. From that point forward, Juliet was effectively displaced from her group, shunned as if she wore the mark of Cain. In Biblical lore, Cain was given this mark after killing his brother Abel. He was cast out of the garden of Eden for his sin, but also given a mark so that any who harmed him would know the wrath of God.

The mark, which has been conveniently forgotten, has some interesting meanings, too. According to Lostpedia, the mark:

• Resembles the alchemic mark for spirit.


• Includes an eight-pointed star. The number eight often symbolizes rebirth or resurrection.


• Mirrors the Mark of Cain, which is a commandment from God that the marked person not be killed.

The point of this post isn't whether Juliet is dead. It's about building a layered story, and taking symbolism from other sources to enrich your story. Lost is filled with such symbolism. Some of the symbols are red herrings and some are real forecasters of story.

And that goes to the craft of effective story-telling. Layering your plot and your characters with telling details deepens the story for everyone involved. It doesn't have to be a tie of the character's name to a Shakespearean character. It could be a character's foible--perhaps a fear or nervous habit--described in a manner that makes it seem like a throw-away, until a future revelation gives it more meaning in the story.

How do you do that? How do you get people to argue about your characters?

We'll talk about it in future, periodic episodes.