Some time ago, I wrote a blog on unlikable protagonists, and one of my colleagues (you know who you are!) commented that the way we see a protagonist can be mediated by the narrator. That idea is so full of interesting possibilities for an author that it deserves a blog all to itself. So, here are a few ideas to add to your literary arsenal about who is going to tell your tale.
To See or Not to See
The first step toward a good book is to have a good plot, peopled by great characters. But how exactly do you get at that plot? Who tells the story?
The genre in which this choice becomes most critical is the fictional biography. Let’s say you’re writing about Anne Boleyn (and believe me, a lot of people are). Will the book be narrated by Anne herself in first person? Or at least told in third person from inside her head? That way you can reveal her motivations—to whatever extent she is conscious of them—but you can’t easily tell what she looks like or how others perceive her, and those insights can be significant.
Maybe you should have a sister, a close friend, or a lady-in-waiting tell her story, although there will be lots of details this person isn’t privy to and therefore cannot share them with the reader. Her father? Her confessor? Henry VIII? I have a feeling the story will become all about him, with Anne as a bit player! You can perceive how very different Anne’s “herstory” will be, depending on who tells it—because not everybody will see the same things.
And this isn’t a problem unique to fictional biography. In fact, the book that originally precipitated this discussion was The Great Gatsby. Fitzgerald decided to have the story narrated from the first-person view not of Gatsby himself, but of his friend Nick. This choice created limitations, but it also added layers.
A Colored Lens
If a character other than the protagonist narrates, readers will get a colored view of the protag. If they like her, everything she does will take on a positive sheen. If an enemy tells her story, she may look a little sinister. But ultimately, readers will have not only the testimony of the narrator but the protagonist’s actions to go by. If there is a disconnect here, readers will a) assume they’ve misread the signs and that something will come along to disprove their expectations. And better not disappoint them! Or b) take the narrator with a grain of salt and c) judge for themselves more skeptically than before. This is not a bad thing. It can be exploited for psychological complexity, and we all know how popular unreliable narrators are. On the other hand, a deeply admiring narrator could create a saccharine portrait of a great hero without the acidity of their selfish human motives.
No Wrong Choices
As with so many choices the author must make, there is no right or wrong one, just the one that works best to tell exactly the story you want told. And that just depends on what advantages you want and what disadvantages you’re willing to live with. And, of course, on how well it’s handled.
Lee Gramling
One other thing to think about regarding the “unlikable narrator” (which I guess exposes my own prejudice): You’re going to be living with this character for a LONG time! I, at least, would find that a bit depressing.
Niki H Kantzios
I’ve had that experience, Lee. It was miserable. But I guess that counts as “suffering for art.”