It’s Sunday afternoon as I write this and I’m at the swimming pool with the children. It’s 90 degrees Fahrenheit and there are about 200 people crowding the pool.
I seem to be the only one with a notebook. :)
It’s so hot I can barely think so I’m making lazy observations about the other pool-goers as a writing exercise.
There’s a lady in the row of chaises in front of me. She’s reading Veterinary Times and occasionally taking a bite of a salad. From time to time she reaches over and sprays the elderly lady next to her with sunscreen.
There’s a very distinguished-looking man nearby who’s also observing everything around him as he sips a Lipton’s iced tea.. He’s got a pair of carefully folded plaid shorts on a designer bag next to him. His hair is “executive silver.” I’m surprised to see he has a large tattoo of a pair of lips on his arm.
The lady next to me frowns as I look her way, pencil poised over my notebook. I smile weakly at her. She looks at me with a measuring look…then focuses her attention on the bag next to me. I wince a little as I realize I brought my Malice Domestic bag to the pool—it has a large teacup with a skull and crossbones on it. She’d been speaking in English to someone on her cell phone…now she abruptly switches to Spanish.
If I take a picture of these people and we analyze the picture, we could come up with a bunch of conclusions.
And some of those conclusions would be wrong.
Maybe the lady I’m assuming is a vet is actually flipping through the magazine because it was left on the chaise by someone before her.
Maybe the man that I think looks distinguished, isn’t. Maybe he’d open his mouth and it would be total bike gang lingo coming out.
I’ve jumped to conclusions based on what I’m seeing. And so, probably does the woman sitting next to me. I’m sure she thinks I’m nosy. (Maybe I am nosy.) The bag with the skull and crossbones? Who knows what she thinks about that.
What if these impressions are coming (and they frequently are) from our protagonist? Many times the reader sees the world through the protagonist’s eyes.
Fiction does have many “unreliable narrators.” Nelly Dean, the narrator in Wuthering Heights definitely interprets the events of the book through her own lens. Agatha Christie used the device, I think very successfully, in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. In movies, Fight Club would be an example.
But sometimes it’s frustrating as a reader not to be able to trust the protagonist’s or narrator’s perceptions. We have to trust somebody in the book—we’re outsiders looking in. We can get to the point in a book where we don’t know who we should believe.
For me, as a reader, I do get frustrated if I’m aware—the entire book—that the narrator is unreliable.
If I find out at the end of a book or movie that the protagonist wasn’t reliable and it’s a twist ending…that might work. If it’s done well.
If the inaccurate perceptions of the narrator/protagonist are scattered through the book? I usually have less of a problem with that, too. Many murder mysteries work that way. My sleuth might draw the wrong conclusions about a suspect—maybe she saw the suspect out at a dinner and he was tipping the waitress with a $100 bill. The reader, of course, is in on this observation. But we find out later that the suspect wasn’t wealthy—he acquired this cash via blackmail and money is a motive in the murder.
Huckleberry Finn didn’t frustrate me. Yes the narrator’s interpretation of events was sometimes skewed or inaccurate—but he was a child. It’s understandable and wasn’t an obstacle for me to enjoy the book…I expected him not to be as mature in his observations or analysis of events.
How about you? Have you ever used an unreliable narrator? How about one who just occasionally has incorrect observations? As a reader, how do you feel about them?
I like unreliable narrators because even if the narration is seemingly unconnected to any one character’s point of view it still steers us, as readers, into building certain perceptions of people and places.
What I really like is when things are shown to me like your 100 bill being used and it’s not really what it appears to me. I don’t want someone “telling” me a lie, I want to jump to the conclusion myself because you showed me something. (I am from the Show-Me state after all.)
BTW Your decription of being at the pool made me feel as if I were there.
Teresa
Elizabeth – Oh, that’s an interesting question (as all of yours are : )). I think unreliability can be a terrific twist to a story, especially if it’s a “red herring” that makes the detective look in the wrong places for clues.
Another benefit of some unreliability is that it’s human. People are wrong at times; they just are. Even Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot is unreliable in some novels. In The Hollow, for instance, he sees the scene of a murder, and his first guess about it turns out to be wrong. Since humans are unreliable at times, why wouldn’t characters be?
I absolutely love unreliable narrators, but I find it is very difficult to use it in a believable way. I think children, as you mention, can be one of the better ways to incorporate this. When I read “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” by Jonathan Safran Foer I adored the usage of a young boy as the narrator (who in many ways was older than his years, but that still maintained certain childlike traits).
I can see where it for a reader may get too much, though, perhaps especially if this causes the character to appear less sympathetic. It will entually get tiresome reading a book if you hate the narrator and thinks he/she is a bigot, for instance.
Incorrect observations are so common. Having moved from Florida to Colorado, everyone looks “different.”
I’m constantly creating impressions based solely on what these folks look like (but for character fodder, not personal assumption!).
Thinking about this post — almost all my books have the ‘I’m not who you think I am’ theme, so depending on whose POV I’m in at the time, there’s always that ‘mistaken impression’ thing going on.
I enjoy unreliable narrators. Think my favorite was Holden Caulfield from “Catcher in the Rye.” Hey, Elizabeth, we’ve got you beat. It’s 100 degrees in Albuquerque and will remain so for the rest of this week.
Karen
I like unreliable narrators most of the time, I think, so long as I know why and how the narrator is unreliable. Like the example of Nelly in Wuthering Hights. From the get-go we know who she’s sympathetic towards and who she hates, and so I can see the whole picture by contrasting what she says with who she is. It’s an interesting puzzle. Maybe I’m just weird, but I do enjoy it. :)
Besides, it can always set you up for a surprise. It’s a useful tactic, I would think, of getting readers involved in the story. If you know the narrator could be wrong, it can lead to some interesting questions like, “I wonder what so-and-so is really like. Is she really…?”
Good post, interesting food for thought. :)
I think every narrator is unreliable to some extent – they all have their own axe to grind or perceptual blind spots. I want them to be CONSISTENT though -in their unreliability. They can change but I want to see why they change. You know who is amazing at this – Iris Murdoch – she’ll be writing from one point of view and I’ll be entirely believing that person’s perception. Then she’ll switch to another and I’m ‘yegads – was I wrong’ and so forth all through the books. I love it and it is very very hard to do well.
A little misconception is good as none of us views the world as it really is but based on our perceptions filtered through past experiences.
LOL – Glad you could unnerve someone at the pool!
Too bad you don’t speak Spanish!
Hahaha, that lady! I think it’s funny when people switch from English to Spanish or French, because if someone in America is bilingual, it’s probably one of those two languages she knows. So I wonder what made her think you didn’t know Spanish? I guess it was the skull and crossbones teacup that did it, lol!
I think all narrators are unreliable to an extent because individuals remember and perceive a situation differently. I don’t mind it, as long as it makes sense. Sometimes unreliable narrators can be annoying, though!
I’ve got to agree with you, unreliable narrators can be frustrating if they aren’t done very well. I’ve used a mildly unreliable narrator at times but I tend to stay away from them because I don’t like feeling like I’m tricking the reader.
I love people-watching. Just yesterday I saw someone riding a bike with a parrot–a real parrot–perched on the back. I could draw no conclusions, only laugh!
I agree on the unreliable narrator points–I’ve gotten very frustrated with books because I didn’t know who to trust, and not in a fun, “all-will-be-revealed” way, or even a “worldview skews perceptions” way. No, in a “tell me right now if this person is crazy-pants or not” kind of way. I finished that book and still don’t know…
I love unreliable narrators, and use them a lot, but probably not in the way I’m seeing most people talk about them here. I like to set up a situation of tension where two or three different point of view characters are involved with one another, and each one interprets the situation, and the others’ motivations, differently. Each one is also just a little bit wrong. Setting up the juxtaposition of the different points of view is how I try to keep the reader in a comfortable state of orientation; ideally it should also create a sense of confidentiality between reader and author. Thanks for this great post!
The worst type of unreliable narrator is the author.
Anybody considering using the unreliable narrator technique would do well to observe one highly salient fact:
“Unreliable narrator” only works–it can only work–when the narrator is himself or herself a character in the story.
For the most part, this restricts unreliable narrators to first-person narratives. Sure, you can concoct other ways to provide a narrator through a different grammatical POV choice, but for the most part unreliable narrators have to be done in 1st person POV.
Why? Because the alternative is 3rd person. Either 3rd omniscient, or 3rd person limited, but either way the narrator is no longer a character in the book. The book’s narrative parts–the parts that aren’t dialogue or that aren’t presenting a character’s percaptions–come from a perspective that is external to all the characters.
Thus, they can only come from the author.
Readers implicitly understand this. So if the reader catches a piece of 3rd person narration out as being unreliable–that is, as being a lie–there’s one way they’re most likely to interpret it: They’re going to conclude that you, author, intentionally misled them. That you lied to them. That you intentionally let them or even encouraged them to believe something that was in fact wrong, likely so you could pull some sort of shocking surprise twist later.
Shocking surprise twists are great, but not when they come as the result of intentionally misleading the reader at an earlier point in the story.
Readers pay attention to what you write, often more closely than you might imagine. They make inferences and conclusions based on applying common sense and ordinary life experience to the events you show them in the story. If you then tell them that their inferences (quite reasonable ones) were wrong–Psych! Gotcha!–they’re going to feel duped, mislead, lied to, and manipulated.
And they’re going to lose faith in you to tell them a story that’s worth reading. Because after all, if a reader can’t trust their reasonable inferences about what’s happening in the narrative, then what’s the point of reading the book at all?
In 1st person narratives, when the narrator is a character, readers don’t make this implicit identification of author-as-narrator. We know it’s a character in the book, and thus we implicitly accept that the character might, in fact, be wrong or lying about stuff. It’s within our mental boundaries of what might be going on. So we’re not necessarily surprised when that happens.
But when the omniscient author (who, by the way, is omniscient by definition) lies to us, we cannot help but feel peeved. After all, the omniscient author knew how things really were, but chose nontheless to mislead us into thinking something else.
I adore unreliable readers because they amuse me, allow me to piece together events and characters, and are just plain quirky.
Great post!
People watching is one of my favorite activities. I don’t mind if the protagonist has a couple of inaccurate perceptions as long as there is some sort of logic behind his or hers insights.
That device works in mysteries and when told from a kids POV. We accept that they don’t know everything and that they aren’t always told the truth. We still need to trust their perspective, though. But, even our protags have secrets, don’t they.
I see “unreliable” as meaning one of two things: skewed by personality/perception of the character OR lying. I think the first can be enjoyable. In fact, good characters have a unique POV and show us the world in an interesting way. Their take on what is happening is their take — not necessarily the truth, not necessarily the facts — just their perception.
I hate it though when a narrator deliberately lies to the reader. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd made me scream. I felt completely cheated. It’s been so long now since I read it that I can’t remember whether Christie provided any hints that the narrator couldn’t be trusted. If she did, I missed them at the time. I have to trust the narrator to tell me what happened as he or she sees it. I allow that the character may not have everything right, but I assume I am being given the character’s version of the truth. Otherwise, I’m not interested.
Cassandra–And we realize that sometimes the protagonist isn’t *always* right with their observations. Which can be unsettling…or intriguing…depending on how it’s done.
Bethany Elizabeth–It definitely keeps you guessing! If it’s not overdone, it’s fun to wonder who is telling the truth or who can be trusted.
Jan–I’m going to have to read some Iris Murdoch. :) That’s exactly the kind of book I enjoy.
Teresa–I like feeling like I’m picking up on clues about a character…even if they’re proved wrong later.
Diane–That’s true…we all have our own way of looking at the world based on our past.
And unnerve her, I did!
Alex–I’m a little limited with my Sesame Street Spanish. :)
Margot–Good point–it IS human, isn’t it? Frustrating when it happens *all* the time, but completely understandable when there’s a good explanation for the goof.
Cruella–I think narrators who are children can be challenging but fun. I’ll have to check into that book..sounds well done.
Hating the narrator or protagonist is NOT a good thing. I’ve put so many of those books back on the shelf.
Terry–It’s almost like another country, isn’t it?
I like the character-with-a-secret plotline, though, Terry. I think that adds a real element of fun to a mystery.
Helen–I wouldn’t be a happy camper about that, either. And you’re right…readers could feel like they’ve been played.
Karen–Now you’ve got to know what a Southerner will say: “But we have humidity and y’all have a dry heat!” But I’d never say it–100 degrees is 100 degrees–it’s HOT!
Laura–I know, I was a little miffed that she assumed I didn’t speak Spanish! But I don’t. :) If she’d spoken slow *French*, though, I might have been able to figure it out!
I think it’s fun when everyone has a different perspective on the same event–that can be interesting to work with.
Heather–No, I don’t like the idea of tricking my readers,either. I want to make sure they’re happy enough to read more of my books!
Rowenna–Riding a bike with a parrot! Sounds like something from “Pippi Longstocking” to me. :)
I’m sort of an impatient reader, myself. I don’t want to spend a lot of time with a protagonist if their viewpoint is *always* wrong.
Elspeth –Yeah, I don’t think I’d trust their judgment too much after that. I wouldn’t want to be fooled twice. :)
Juliette–I like that, too–I’ll have different suspects with completely different thoughts on what happened during a key scene of the novel–who should we believe? And it’s nice when they actually LIE, too. :) Makes it even more complex.
Jason–Oh, I totally agree. It’s incredibly annoying when I’m suddenly aware there’s an author of the book…nevermind an unreliable one! I should be totally pulled into the book, focusing on the characters and plot and not the guy behind the curtain who’s in charge of the smoke and mirrors.
Unreliable narrator…definitely in the 1st person. Unreliable *protagonist*…3rd person is okay. We’re still connecting with the character, still in their head. But they’re not *telling* us the story. We’re observing them and when the protagonist makes mistakes in the conclusions she draws, we’re right there making the error with them.
You’re absolutely right–the author doesn’t need to position himself as the bad guy–the one who plays tricks on readers. Not a good way to develop a readership.
Jane–That makes sense. Otherwise, if they’re just pulling their conclusions out of the air w/out backing them up, that can be annoying.
Mary–It’s always kind of interesting reading books set from a kid’s POV. We can’t *completely* trust their perspective, or we have to apply our own maturity to interpret their observations.
Brown Paper Bag girl–It IS kind of fun, isn’t it? It’s like we’ve had the wool pulled over our eyes…but the protagonist has, too!
Kit–You’ve made a good point. Yes, if they’re making an incorrect observation it’s not as upsetting. Or if the character is immature (a child) or mentally disabled, etc. If they’re *lying*, that’s something else.
I wondered if someone would mention “Ackroyd.” :) Although I didn’t mind the trick because I enjoyed the shock (I was a teen the first time I read it), I wouldn’t want to read a repeat trick in another book by another author. And I totally understand where you’re coming from. If I hadn’t been 17 when I read it, maybe I’d have a different impression of the book.