An unreliable narrator is a point-of-view character who describes the story in such a way that the reader cannot trust his or her version of reality. There can be purposeful reasons for this—for instance, to hide their own biases or wrongdoings. In The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, the character’s first-person narration is specifically structured to hide his own culpability (spoilers for a ninety-eight-year-old novel—the narrator, Dr. James Sheppard, is the murderer). But this kind of viewpoint is not always an intentional act. There can be extenuating circumstances; in fact, some narrators may not even be aware they’re not recounting the full truth of any situation.
An unreliable narrator can weave a layered story that compels the readers to solve the puzzle of a tale with hidden aspects. It can allow us to explore complex characters with interesting motivations as well as to test to boundaries of our own biases. Best of all, it can make us think, to analyze intricate plot points, and reveal if we can see inside the true story itself.
In Echoes of Memory, my latest novel, Quinn Fleming is also an unintentional unreliable narrator as a result of a traumatic brain injury. Still recovering months later from a brutal assault on a deserted San Diego street, Quinn cannot retain newly made memories for any extended period of time. She tries to hide her disability by keeping detailed notes of what happens each day, so when she witnesses a murder in a back alley, she tries to record every aspect of the crime before reporting it, knowing the clock is ticking. As a result of the stress and terror, by the time officers arrive, the horrific memory is already fading. She tries to rely on her notes, but the officers don’t believe she isn’t reading from a script. Crippled by guilt that the murdered man from her notes will never have justice, Quinn looks into the incident on her own. But even as she works with a San Deigo detective who understands her challenges, Quinn doesn’t trust herself or her own flashback recollections and withholds information, slowing the case, and, in the end, putting herself in mortal danger.
Pi Patel, The Life of Pi—Psychological Trauma
Following the tragic sinking of the ship carrying Pi’s family and the animals from their zoo as they emigrated from India to Canada, Pi finds refuge on one of the ship’s lifeboats. He quickly finds he is not alone, but shares the space with several of the animals—a hyena, an orangutan, a zebra, and a tiger. The slaughter begins with the hyena killing the zebra and the orangutan, but then a tiger emerges from where it was hiding under a tarp to kill the hyena. From then on, it’s only Pi and the tiger adrift as sea for several hundred days, with Pi building a small, connected raft to physically separate himself from the deadly cat. When the boat finally comes ashore, the tiger escapes into the jungle while Pi is recued. When he tells the story to investigators, they quickly see the parallels between a boat of animals and the more likely explanation of other survivors who killed each other to survive. The trauma of the shipwreck and brutal escape have psychologically altered Pi’s view of the circumstances, revealed in his version of the story.
Patrick Bateman, American Psycho—Mental Illness
Patrick Bateman appears to have it all as a wealthy, successful, Manhattan investment banker. He lives the high life, defining his entire existence by the commercial brands and businesses he espouses. However, behind the facade, Bateman is a narcissistic psychopath who goes on a killing spree, each murder becoming more brutally violent and cruel, escalating to rape and dismemberment of prostitutes. As Bateman devolves, it’s not clear if the descriptions of his nighttime activities are the truth or gross exaggerations of a psychotic imagination, especially once he is haunted by hallucinations. In the end, after he tries to confess his crimes to his lawyer, Bateman is told one of his “victims” was alive and well only a few days before, casting every detail of his narration into doubt.
Rachel Watson, The Girl on the Train—Alcoholism
Even though she is unemployed, Rachel Watson rides the train to and from London every work day to hide her lack of employment—and her drinking—from her roommate. However, the route takes her past her old neighbourhood where her ex-husband Tom now lives with his new wife and their daughter. Rachel becomes obsessed with watching the neighbourhood, particularly a couple several doors down from Tom, and becomes convinced the wife, Megan, is having an affair. But her alcoholism leads to blackouts and memory gaps, so her perspective is questionable from the beginning. When Rachel wakes one morning, bruised and with cuts on her lip and head, with no memories of the night before, and then learns Megan is missing—and eventually found to be both pregnant and dead—she inserts herself into the investigation. Rachel’s perspective only begins to become clear once she struggles to remember her missing night and new information is introduced.
Malcolm Crowe, The Sixth Sense—Missing Information
Books are not the only form of narration. The film The Sixth Sense is narrated through the point-of-view character, Dr. Malcolm Crowe, a child psychologist. Malcom is freshly recovered from being shot by a former patient, and is now working with Cole, a young client who claims to see dead people who don’t realize they’re dead. When Malcolm is on screen, we only experience the events of the film through his perspective. However, by the end of the film, Malcolm finally comes to the realization that the shooting from the opening scene was, in fact, a fatal act. Malcolm has been a ghost all along, but didn’t understand his current status, even though Cole had been trying to tell him all along. He—and the audience—assumed he was alive the whole time. It’s an amazing twist ending, only realized through Malcolm’s unreliable narration.
Forrest Gump, Forrest Gump—Naïve Innocence
Though it is never clearly stated, it’s implied lead character Forrest Gump potentially presents on the autism spectrum. Throughout the course of his story, Forrest is involved in some of the most monumental moments of the history of his time and the reader experiences his perspective throughout. But the story is told from such an innocent, often rose-tinted perspective, even of some of the worst moments and experiences of the time—from the Vietnam War to the AIDS crisis, there’s a disconnect between the story being told and the reader’s own knowledge of history.
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