The polling places are still open for voting on which book I’ll read next. Be sure to weigh in on this pressing matter. As P. Diddy Dingdong Dog said (and South Park brilliantly parodied), Vote or Die!
With the latest brouhaha over the latest bogus memoir, the concept of the "unreliable narrator" has been percolating in my brain, which is a dangerous thing indeed, as it will likely spill over and burn someone unfortunate to read further.
Specifically, I speak of the unreliable narrator in literary fiction. Or rather, I speak of how people speak about the unreliable narrator in literary fiction. In MFA workshops.
I have heard such discussions far too many times. "You have an unreliable narrator, so I don’t trust what he says," you are likely to hear. It seems to be one of those criticisms, like "the story doesn’t start until page ___" or "the story doesn’t rise organically from the text," that a person will say when they really mean "I have no more idea what I’m saying than a talking shitstick."
Delving too far into the reliability of narrators can be like trying to ascertain the brainwaves of a teenager who gets drunk and drives his parents’ SUV into a ditch. Or, more recently, of a governor who goes online, launders money, and hires prostitutes. There’s really no point to it, unless you’re into literary theory.
It’s kind of interesting so much is made about narrators’ veracity. If the narrator is lying or is massaging the details, it means she’s lying for a reason. She may be delusional, psychotic, or have an agenda. There may be more at stake than what’s in the boundaries of the story. Then again, there may not be.
I first encountered this dillema in "Wuthering Heights," where Nelly Dean may or may not be telling the truth to Lockwood, who may or may not be telling the truth to us. I got caught lost in all the possible permutations of what this might mean to understanding Heathcliff, Catherine, Cathy, etc., that I forgot to enjoy the damn thing.
Another famous example of the unreliable narrator is "The Turn of the Screw," Henry James’s classic could-be-might-be ghost story that has the distinction of ruining literature for at least four generations of American high school students.
The problem is that when critiquing a work — you know, actually trying to help the writer make his or her story a better one — discussing if a narrator is reliable is about as fruitful as trying to figure out the artistry in "Who Let the Dogs Out." Knowing that a narrator is unreliable might help you better understand the narrator’s motives, or see the story in a new light. But I can’t remember one conversation about how an unreliable narrator affected the quality of the work or led to some suggestion to make it any better.
Kinbote’s a Zemblaniac
Let’s take one of the most unreliable narrators ever to hit the page of literary fiction. Charles Kinbote can’t be trusted. We figure this out after about three words. There probably is no Zembla, and some may argue that there’s no Charles Kinbote, either, that the author of the poem "Pale Fire," John Shade, also wrote the commentary that provides the primary narrative of the novel Pale Fire.
"The problem, Vlad, is that you have an unreliable narrator," I can hear one particular workshop dork preaching to Mr. Nabokov. "Kinbote can’t be trusted. He has an agenda, and that colors how the reader approaches the work."
Well, duh. You can end up going round and round and round on the unreliable narrator merry-go-round for about an hour, and suddenly, it’s time to look at someone else’s work and you didn’t get your $3,000 worth of criticism that you’ve prorated your tuition to be.
Why has this exploration of narrator’s reliability become one of those workshop warhorses that never goes out of style?
For the simple reason that it takes workshop criticism out of the realm of a workshop and into the realm of criticism, of a university setting, where, if you’ve been paying any attention at all, is where most literary workshops are held. This is not to indict students, for I’ve had many a professor bring up this Unreliable Narrator Problems as if it Held The Key To The Fiction Universe.
The ultimate unreliable narrator
"If you have an unreliable narrator…" or "The problem with this narrator is that he’s unreliable…" they will say, going off into a tangent on the Meaning of Fiction, or rather "I didn’t read this story until six minutes before class, so I have to come up with something to talk about to make it seem like I had read it and actually thought about what can make it a better story."
Does it sound like I’m ranting? That I’m using this forum simply to address past grievances with incompetent teachers, disinterested students, and the MFA writing-industrial complex? You bet your sweet bippy I am.
So prove me wrong. Tell me how pointing out that my narrator can’t be trusted or isn’t telling the truth affects whether or not the story is worth a damn.
Grumble, grumble.
Hi, found you on Metaxu and thought I’d leave a comment. I agree it’s not helpful to point out whether there’s an unreliable narrator unless its pretty clear the writer isn’t doing it on purpose. Then we have grounds for a meaningful workshop discussion. If the writer doesn’t have their unreliable narrator under control, then the story needs work. But just pointing it out to have something to say is highly annoying and doesn’t have a place in a workshop.
I’ve never been in a workshop where the consensus is that the unreliable narrator is a *problem,* or that all narrators must be reliable. I love unreliable narrators. Pale Fire is a great example. When Kinbote contradicts or corrects himself partway down the first page and says by way of explanation, “There is a very loud amusement park outside my window,” I get covered with goosebumps of delight.
If a first person narrator is totally reliable, chances are the book is boring.
I love, love, LOVE to write unreliable narrators. For some reason I’m prone to write them.
But — now that you mention it — I’m not a big fan of reading them either.
Go figure. I’ll put myself in the hypocricy chair for 41 minutes.
After Daisy Miller it was pretty much “Been there. Done that.”
I, like your other commentors, LOVE the unreliable narrator. I don’t know why either. Does it make me feel superior? That I, unlike that butler guy in Remains of the Day, know there’s a big problem with nazi sympathizing in the house where he’s working? That I am not crazy like the guy in Pale Fire?
Or maybe it’s this (this just came to me and I don’t have a complete handle on it): that the unreliable narrator tells you something about fiction you already know to be true which is that ALL narrators (first, third, whatever) are unreliable. That there is no “truth” to a situation. And the unreliable narrator at least doesn’t even pretend.
Who knows.
But the workshop comment is just stupid. Possibly what’s really being said is that the narrative voice isn’t convincing, doesn’t have the authority to draw a reader in, doesn’t do that fictive dream thing. But that’s not an “unreliable” narrator — that’s a poorly written narrative.
verbivore: thank you for stopping by and commenting. my brief against the unreliable narrator comment is as you say – it’s become shorthand for “i don’t like the narration” or “i’m smarter than you, the writer, because i can see you have an unreliable narrator, and you don’t.”
it’s good to know that someone reads dem metaxu posts.
rellis: it may not be a consensus that a story has an unreliable narrator, and thus, is “x” or “y,” but it’s become a crutch when a reader is too lazy to think something through yet wants to sound profound.
i think that unreliable narrators are not only fun, but endemic in any first-person narrative. if it’s a true narrative voice, there’s no way the narrator is giving the absolute truth, whatever “truth” is.
kinbote’s unreliability (or humbert humbert’s, for that matter) isn’t just a trick or something to be critiqued, but rather so tightly bound with the story that there’s no separating them. that’s my problem. people think that pointing this out is some great insight into one’s stoyr.
you are right — a completely reliable narrator = a dull book indeed.
dwight: the difference is that you are consciously writing from that point of view, and for me to point it out wouldn’t be of any help. i like reading them (see “pale fire”) as long as there’s a reason for it.
lily: i wouldn’t venture to say that loving or hating the veracity of the narrator makes you better than thou
i agree that unreliable narrators are pretty much all first-person narrators (not so sure about third, though).
you hit the nail on the head regarding workshop comments. whether the narrator is truthful or not isn’t as important as if the voice is convincing. but pointing out the unreliable narrator carries so much more intellectual heft than just saying the voice sucks and needs to be changed.
Good post yet again. I think the “Well, duh,” comment pretty much sums this up. (And thank you once again for assuring me that I would be wasting 20K to get that MFA in fiction.) All narrators are unreliable to a certain extent, IMO, and I think there’s no arguing that, really. But so what? The writer should be using the reliability as a strategy, and having the narrator being “unreliable” means exactly nothing as a critique. The convincing voice, the details that are obviously flawed, are significant to understanding the character (or story, or whatever). Well, duh.
Bullshit.
Good narrators are all unreliable even when they present reality as they see it.
I always thought the “unreliable narrator” excuse in discussion/workshopping as a cop-out. A way to avoid saying they don’t like the story without admitting they don’t know why, or to avoid asking nuanced questions about what they didn’t understand. (It was the easiest way to come up with college paper topics, though.)
There are plenty of writers who get unreliable narration right. Unreliable narration didn’t add too much to my read of Wuthering Heights, but as for Lord Jim? Or Bleak House? As I Lay Dying? Absalom! Absalom!? I think Conrad, Dickens and Faulkner “got” how to use unreliable narrators to heighten a character’s loneliness. If it’s done effectively, it starts to feel like the characters are writing the story instead of the writer. It’s not about what the writer is telling you so much as it is how the narrator-character remembers it and how that shapes what you take away from the story.
I think ALL narrators are “unreliable” to an extent–e.g., are subjective. Literature is about the way a life is subjectively lived. Otherwise, it’s a textbook (which PRETENDS to be objective but is about as unreliable as Bush).
wyrrd: when you mention that the writer should be using unreliability as a “strategy,” and not the fulcrum for the work to balance on, you nailed it. pointing out that the narrator is unreliable is about as helpful as having hot water poured on your leg.
bernita: i wish you had been some of my grad school classes.
kofi: it’s not about what the writer is telling you so much as it is how the narrator-character remembers it and how that shapes what you take away from the story. extremely well put. the “unreliable narrator” discussion, as you say, is really nothing more than a cop out.
kate evans: agreed. there’s no point in having a totally “reliable” narrator. no fun in that, and no story, either.