Monday 29 January 2018

Unbelievable

[Spoilers for Catcher in the Rye, Life of Pi and Atonement. Potential spoilers for One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, Fight Club]

So, do we then depend on a narrator that we know is untrustworthy for the sake of having secrets? H.P. Lovecraft had narrators in his stories who were as much adrift in the worlds in which they found themselves as we, the readers. They could only report on their own thoughts and the activities they observed around them. They were assumed to be trustworthy until such a time as they were lost in the mystery as it unfolded. We are as weak as they are, thus we empathise, particularly in the face of such spectacular power. Almost inevitably, such narrators become unreliable, even if this isn't obvious from the start.



The unreliable narrator is often only exposed as such towards the end of the story; this is the twist of the tale. Whether it is through the madness that consumes the narrators of Lovecraft's mythos or the deception inherent in Catcher in the Rye (a book I detest) or The Life of Pi, the unreliable narrator often leaves us with a sense of disatisfaction. Caufield is a self-indulgent brat whom we should never have trusted in the first place. Pi initially comes across as a victim of circumstance, who is inventing this overwrought narrative to cope with the death of his mother and the other survivors on the dinghy. It is only later we discover that he was perfectly capable of telling the truth, and in a rather matter of fact kind of way, but chose not to.

Both lead us to the point at the end of the story where we realise it is all a lie. We cannot leave satisfied, because we have been sold a bluff. The story may have been entertaining but, just like the man behind the curtain, once we know how the trick is done, all the magic disappears and we are left with nothing.

Taking a look at one example, I look to Briony Tallis from Atonement. At the beginning of the story, Briony is a young girl who, having wildly misinterpreted a uniquely adult circumstance involving her sister, makes false accusations against another man in order to protect her siblings, which results in the real perpetrator being allowed to continue his crimes.

Despite her intelligence and her care for others, Briony is a liar and fabulist. We cannot like her, despite the good she has done in her life. In the end we find Briony commiting to her sister to undo the harm she has done before leaving her sister and the wronged man as she gets on a train and leaves. We never get to see her undoing anything, so are left wondering if her commitment was just another story she was telling; we are tempted to believe in her redemption, but never fully satisfied to it.

As a tool, the unreliable narrator is useful. Someone with a biased or genuinely broken perception of a situation (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, Fight Club) can misdirect us from something that would be obvious to us if we too were present, but we are trapped in their narrative, victims of their agenda. Once the unreliability has been exposed, we have to question everything we've read. This is particularly dissatisfying when trying to unravel a mystery, only to discover we were being deliberately misdirected from the outset. This feels suspiciously like cheating; there never was a mystery, only a liar recounting the tale.

Do you think I'm on point or way off the mark? Does the unreliable narrator server a better purpose than to prevaricate, thus delaying the reveal? Is the third person limited narrator a better way to create mystery?

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