Showing posts with label Narrative Voice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Narrative Voice. Show all posts

Sunday, June 21, 2009

THE BLUEST EYE by Toni Morrison

In The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison not only captures the unique and compelling voices of her characters, but captures the voice of a race at a specific point in time. The narrative voice and voice of the main characters, as well as the voices of secondary characters are authentic, believable, and full of texture.


The narrative voice of this story is that of the young Claudia. Her voice and character reflect the circumstances of the people around her, the events of the time and story, and the racial issues of the time. “I could not love it. But I could examine it to see what it was that all the world said was lovable. Break off the tiny fingers, bend the flat feet, loosen the hair, twist the head around, and the thing made one sound…” (p. 21). “If I pinched them, their eyes – unlike the crazed glint of the baby doll’s eyes – would fold in pain, and their cry would not be the sound of an icebox door, but a fascinating cry of pain.” (p. 23). Claudia makes clear, her feelings of revulsion toward the pretty white baby dolls she is expected to love and toward the white girls that they replicate. “We were sinking under the wisdom, accuracy, and relevance of Maureen’s last words. If she was cute – and if anything could be believed, she was – then we were not. And what did that mean? We were lesser.” (p. 74). The narrative voice is reflective and intuitive, honest, and more educated than most of the other characters’ voices.


Pauline Breedlove’s voice comes to life near the middle of the story in several long passages told from her point-of-view. Morrison uses a distinct style of speech and language to capture Mrs. Breedlove’s voice in a way that is unique. “Cholly commenced to getting meaner and meaner and wanted to fight me all of the time. I gave him as good as I got. Had to. Look like working for that woman and fighting Cholly was all I did. Tiresome.” (p. 118). The strength of Mrs. Breedlove, her love for Cholly, and her twisted sense of how life is supposed to work all come through in the voice that Morrison has created for her.


The voice of Elihue Micah Whitcomb, illustrated in a letter he writes to God, is perhaps one of the most unique that Morrison creates in The Bluest Eye. “I, I have caused a miracle. I gave her the eyes. I gave her the blue, blue, two blue eyes. Cobalt blue. A streak of it right out of your own blue heaven. No one else will see her blue eyes. But she will.” (p. 182). Whitcomb’s voice is more educated and sophisticated than the other characters, carrying with it an arrogance and disconnect from reality.


Even the voices of the secondary and background characters maintain a style of speech that is authentic to the race, timeframe, and setting.


“‘What she gone do? The mama?’

‘Keep on like she been, I reckon. He taken off.’

‘County ain’t gone let her keep that baby, is they?’

‘Don’t know.’” (p. 189).


There’s also a rhythm to the language and dialogue that pulls the reader into the conversation and helps to make it compelling.


Toward the end of the novel, Morrison beautifully portrays the voice of Pecola, having lost her mind and talking to herself, believing that she does in fact have the most beautiful blue eyes.


“Where do you live?

I told you once.

What is your mother’s name?

Why are you so busy meddling me?

I just wondered. You don’t talk to anybody. You don’t go to school. And nobody talks to you.

How do you know nobody talks to me?

They don’t. When you’re in the house with me, even Mrs. Breedlove doesn’t say anything to you. Ever. Sometimes I wonder if she even sees you.

Why wouldn’t she see me?” (p. 198).


The reader is not entirely sure who Pecola is talking to in the beginning, but it becomes clear and heartbreaking by the end of this section.


In The Bluest Eye, Morrison expertly uses a number of rich and authentic character voices, as well as a compelling narrative voice to reveal and carry the reader through the story of Pecola Breedlove. With the use of realistic speech styles and language choices, as well as some use of dialect, and remaining true to the individual characters in what they would (or wouldn’t) say and how, Morrison weaves a compelling, enthralling story that engages the reader from the beginning through the end. It is clear from Morrison’s work that any writer can create a compelling, authentic narrative by paying particular attention to language and dialect, and by keeping the voice true to the setting and characters.



(Page numbers are based on Alfred Knopf, 2000 edition)

Sunday, February 1, 2009

ELLEN FOSTER by Kaye Gibbons

In Ellen Foster, Kaye Gibbons uses stylistic writing to create a narrative voice that is distinctive and memorable. To establish her unique style, and subsequently create an authentic narrative voice, Gibbons plays with grammar and punctuation, sentence structure, and language.


One of the most notable stylistic decisions that Gibbons employs is around dialogue. There is no clear, apparent dialogue in the book, though on occasion there is the illusion of dialogue. This is achieved in part because Gibbons uses no quotation marks to signal and set off dialogue, and no dialogue tags. But this ambiguity in dialogue also comes from the sentence structure and what is being said. The reader has the feeling that the dialogue is being retold to them as a part of the story rather than bearing witness to the actual dialogue as it has occurred.


Gibbons omits other customary punctuation, such as a lack of commas, to further effect the narrative voice. For example: “Her art room is in the back apart from the rest of the school so she had not seen the time but she pulled my head to her stomach and said to let’s go home.” (p. 54) and “They put her in a box too and him in a box oh shut the lid down hard on this one and nail it nail it with the strongest nails.” (p. 70). The lack of punctuation creates a particular mode of speech which fits the narrator’s character perfectly.


One of the most interesting and textural style choices is in Gibbon’s use of unique language and phrases, sometimes using incorrect words to further flavor the narrator’s voice. There are many examples of this throughout the book, including “right much” (p. 30), “her time was what all that I needed” (p. 57), “drawed” (p. 58), “easedropping” (p. 67), and “growed” (p. 98).


The sum of these style choices, establishes a strong sense that this story is being told verbally, by Ellen Foster herself, to an unknown, unseen audience, or perhaps directly to the reader him/herself. This sense of listening to the story is made stronger by the occasional use of the word “you.” For example: “When or if you come to my house now after church you will smell all the things that have been simmering on low.” (p. 58) and “Then you go to the girls department and tell the lady you need the sizes bigger than the ones you have in your hand.” (p. 97). The reader has the feeling that s/he is hearing and receiving the story first hand from the narrator.


Through the particular stylistic choices that Kaye Gibbons makes in Ellen Foster, the reader resides in Ellen’s head, becomes a part of Ellen, as she tells her story. The style and narrative voice pull the reader into the story and hold him/her there until the end. Gibbons could have chosen any number of styles for writing this story, but none would have brought the reader as close to the narrator as the style Gibbons used. The style and voice are ideally suited to the character of Ellen Foster, a young girl from the rural south who has suffered a great deal of grief, dislocation, and disconnection in her short life.


(Page numbers are based on Vintage Books, 1990, paperback edition)