I've been asking around about unreliable narrators recently, taking soundings about whether to ... out a bit of Louise Penny's quote on an upcoming book.
And was there ever a more princess problem than that? "Boohoo, poor me, I don't know how much of the fabulous cover quote from Louise Penny to include on my next book jacket. Please send fruit baskets."
Turns out people have strong feelings about unreliable narrators. Because people have strong feelings about being lied to.
I read an interesting little book about lying recently. Sam Harris, who has written extensively about morality and free will, has come up with a argument in favour of complete truth all the time. Brutal searing honesty, not even a white lie between friends to spare feelings.
Q: Do I look bad in this dress?
A: Yes, I'd change if I were you.
Q: Can we bring the twins to the party?
A: No, your children are a trial because of their bad behaviour.
And most relevant to people in the writing community, I suppose:
Q: What did you think of my script?
A: It struck me as weak and worthless. You can't write.
He made a decent if chilly case, arguing that if we tell the truth people get the chance to react to reality and make real improvements in their lives, arguing that telling white lies is condescending in the moment and harmful in the long term. I sort of agreed, but I read that whole section muttering 'Yeah but, who put you in charge?" And "What about kindness?"
I was sold on Harris's definition of a lie, however. He called it "anything you say that's intended to make someone believe you think something you don't think". That gets honest mistakes out of the way and also gets rid of the technicality loophole.
Q: Do I look bad in this dress?
A: No. (unspoken: it's not the dress. You're just ugly.)
Q: Can we bring the twins to the party?
A: Yes (unspoken: I can't stop you buckling toddlers into their car seats and driving them to my house)
Q: What did you think of my script.
A: Very interesting. (unspoken: to discover that you have no perspective on the fact that you can't write for toffee.)
And he has a pithy way of summing up how important honesty is in human interaction. "To lie is to recoil from relationship" is a terrific summation, isn't it?
But some of what Harris calls honesty seems to me to be just cleverer lies. So for instance, if you've been manipulated and or guilt-tripped into letting people come and stay in your house when you don't want them there, and they say, on arrival:
Q: You sure this is okay?
Harris suggests:
A: Hey! What are guest rooms for?
That bothers me. Isn't that absolutely designed to make the guests believe you want them there? Isn't that just a technicality? And anyway - here's where I really disagree with him - isn't the last moment when it mattered what you thought about having guests the moment before you agreed they could come? Once they're invited, IMHO, it's time to get over yourself, commit to the decision you made and make sure they feel welcome. (By the way, this is his example. This is nothing to do with house guests of mine, past or pending!)
And then there are those times when honesty would achieve nothing good and would cause pain unlikely ever to fade. Harris lost me when he said a father should tell the truth to a daughter coming downstairs on her wedding day, looking like a dog's breakfast, maybe even recently regurgitated, and asking "How do I look?"
But, I did immediately want to write a story that opens with that scene. What a delicious hand of psychological poker that would be!
And now, over to you. What do you make of unreliable narrators? And where do you draw the line between white lies and murky grey?
Fascinating comments on lying here--provocative and, yeah, uncomfortable (and I agree with your questions for the author there about those technicalities too). As for unreliable narrators, I'm generally fascinated by them. I know there have been too many of them lately (a trend that may have become almost-predictable), and when they don't rise above the level of the gimmick... well, you're in trouble. But when handled well and thoughtfully, crafted where the reader can ultimately see several levels of what's going on with the narration--and who's fooling who--it can be masterful and such great fun.
Posted by: Art Taylor | February 13, 2018 at 05:48 AM
I'd have to deflect: Does this dress flatter me? How do YOU feel about it?
I raised three daughters, and had to be extremely sensitive to potentially hurt feelings.
Your mileage may vary.
Question: Is it a spoiler to say that such-and-such book has an unreliable narrator?
Posted by: Karen in Ohio | February 13, 2018 at 07:07 AM
Love this post, Catriona! Such an interesting topic. I find unreliable narrators intriguing. Margaret Atwood does them especially beautifully--the more her characters say things like "I may be remembering this wrong" or "I left something out" or even "I lied," the more human and (ironically) believable they seem to be. :)
Posted by: Cynthia Kuhn | February 13, 2018 at 07:36 AM
Yes, Karen - the spoilerosity troubled me too, a bit. I think it's coming off the jacket. But it's interesting to hear that you , Cynthia and Art all think they're okay. (All these years after Dame Agatha did it best and first in XXXXXXXXXXXXXX - redacted.)
Posted by: catriona | February 13, 2018 at 08:22 AM
I rely on your narrators to be reliably unreliable. Or not. If I always had to have my way, I’d have to write my own bewks. And we know that’s not happening. Ever. Congrats on the newest offering and a Penny blurb. Great cover , draws my eye, but then I’d buy it if it looked like a dog’s dinner. Love, your favorite stalker
Posted by: Ann Mason. | February 13, 2018 at 08:49 AM
I agree, Karen, it is a spoiler to say someone is an unreliable and narrator. But then… Thinking about this… Aren’t we all unreliable?Because what does reliable even mean? It all comes from our own perspective.
Catriona, this is so thought-provoking. It would be so free just to say “ just my opinion, of course, but that look does not appeal to me. “. And one’s parents off until the truth, don’t they? My stepfather used to look at my Age-16 outfits, and say “what do you represent? “
And another question: wouldn’t you rather have someone tell you the truth? I think I would!
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 13, 2018 at 08:54 AM
HAhahahaha, Hank. I just heard Karen from Will and Grace looking at an outfit and saying "Oh honey, what's this? What's going on here?"
Posted by: catriona | February 13, 2018 at 08:58 AM
I've grown fond of unreliable narrators with a twist of revelation. I look at it as misdirection, not lying, and done fairly (I know, whatever that means), it can be a delightful format.
I like what Hank says, that we're all unreliable due to perspective. And, I can't wait for this new book, Catriona!
Posted by: Kathy Reel | February 13, 2018 at 09:06 AM
I love myself some unreliable narrators, mostly because I think in many ways, everyone is unreliable.
Now, before you start thinking, "wow, that Kris, he sure has a dark view of the world," I should say that I don't think most people intend to be unreliable, but in fact, it's just human nature to attempt to put yourself at the center of any story and this leads to those unintentional "lies."
I like an unreliable narrator who doesn't even *know* they are unreliable.
Looking forward to the new book - with or without the Louise Penny blurb. ;)
Posted by: Kristopher | February 13, 2018 at 10:15 AM