Photo by Kimberly Farmer on Unsplash
In the day 59 post, I offered an example of a covert narrative situation, Lost in the Moment and Found by Seanan McGuire, along with questions we can ask to try to discover what the narrative situation could be.
Here are answers to more questions posed in that post. Posts on day 60 and day 61 have answers to the other questions. As you read, keep in mind we can’t know exactly what McGuire had in mind when crafting the story, but we’ll use the clues in the text to come to a hypothesis supported by the evidence.
What relationship does the narrator-helper want to establish with the narratee?
The narrator-helper seems to want to be a trusted guide by tailoring the message to the listener. If we were to think about this role as an archetype, it would be the mentor. A mentor is someone who has a different and useful perspective than the person they are assisting. They may be more familiar with the relevant place and how things work, the relevant people and how to relate to them, and the relevant problem and ways to break it down and solve it.
The mentor role is effective because it validates the narratee’s instincts while offering a different perspective and empowers her to exercise her agency.
The narrator-helper could gain this perspective as a fellow traveler (someone with direct experience of the problem) or a wise observer (perhaps with professional training and experience). Seanan McGuire’s author note tells us that she has faced a similar situation, which is evidence of her intention. But it is possible for a writer with one experience to present the story through a narrator with a completely different perspective. If we didn’t have the author note, we could still conclude that the narrator-helper is a fellow traveler. The details with which the story is told convey first-hand rather than vicariously acquired knowledge of what it’s like to confront the problem Antsy faces.
What emotional distance does the helper maintain from the events?
The close third-person/selective omniscient point of view allows gives the narrator-helper lots of flexibility. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the reader-narrattee can feel Antsy’s emotions because they have access to her internal perceptions and processing. It appears to be unfiltered, but of course the narrator-helper is still curating what is shown and choosing how much to reveal. It has the feel of continuity, but the narrator-helper is choosing what to include or omit and how to present it. It’s as if there is a protective bubble around the emotionally difficult content.
The narrative also feels objective, though because the narrator-helper leaves no trace. In this way, the narrator-helper is both present but providing room for the narratee to make up their own mind about the events. Compare with the editorial omniscient narrators of Charles Dickens’s novels who interject their subjective opinions, sometimes telling the reader what to think.
As I mentioned in another post, the clear and methodical prose, fantasy setting, and story within a story provide the emotional distance to explore a terrifying topic without triggering panic.
What aspects of the situation might the listener be resistant to hearing about?
Of course, the narratee will find the events involving Antsy’s stepfather disturbing. The events need to be clear enough for the reader to perceive the danger and get the message, but the narrator-helper will not want to expose her to unnecessary painful events. This is a relatively brief part of the story that shows only enough for Antsy to have a bad feeling about the man until she is clear that she must escape.
As the narratee reads the story, she is coming to her own conclusions that adults who should be trustworthy can fail to protect, that leaving a situation might be the safest choice, and that it’s okay to prioritize her own safety over loyalty to family members.
The narrator-helper addresses potential resistance through gradual, methodical revelation of the threat, a focus on practical actions, an engaging fantasy adventure story, and validating the protagonist’s instincts and choices.
This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.
At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.