When it comes to telling a story, few things are as important as who is telling it. The narrator acts as the story’s filter, picking and choosing what to share, what to omit, and how characters and events are portrayed. Some stories benefit from a third-person omniscient narrator, an all-knower who can jump from subject to subject like the eye of god. On the other hand, a third-person limited narrator is bound to one character and their perspective but still exists outside of them.
Sometimes, however, a story benefits from a narrator who is a character themselves. Writer Wayne C. Booth describes this practice excellently in his book Rhetoric of Fiction: “Many novels dramatize their narrators with great fullness, making them into characters who are as vivid as those they tell us about.”
First-person narration can create a sense of immediacy and urgency as the story’s events happen to and around the teller; it can also create a feeling of claustrophobia, as we as readers are strictly limited to their point of view. And, like any other character, this narrator can often be deeply flawed, leading us to question their motives.
When we doubt the truth of a narrator’s storytelling, we learn to read between the lines, creating two stories in one. There is the story as the narrator tells it, and the story as we choose to believe it. While the unreliable narrator became a popular tool in Modernist writing, it dates back centuries.
In honor of this fascinating and often frustrating narrative voice, we’ll travel back through time to meet some of literature’s most unreliable narrators.