Narrative Styles

The Narrator
The Narrator is the entity within a story that tells the story to the reader. It is one of
three entities responsible for story-telling of any kind. The others are the Author and
the Reader (or Audience). The Author and the Reader both inhabit the real world. It is
the Author's function to create the alternate world, people, and events within the story.

Choices
A writer's choice of narrator is crucial for the way a work of fiction is perceived by
the reader. Generally, a first-person narrator brings greater focus on the feelings,
opinions, and perceptions of a particular character in a story, and on how the character
views the world and the views of other characters. If the writer's intention is to get
inside the world of a character, then it is a good choice, although a third-person
limited narrator is an alternative that doesn't require the writer to reveal all that a first-
person character would know. By contrast, a third-person omniscient narrator gives a
panoramic view of the world of the story, looking into many characters and into the
broader background of a story. A third-person omniscient narrator can tell feelings of
every character. For stories in which the context and the views of many characters are
important, a third-person narrator is a better choice.

Stream of Consciousness
In literary criticism, stream of consciousness is a literary technique which seeks to
portray an individual's point of view by giving the written equivalent of the character's
thought processes, either in a loose internal interior monologue, or in connection to
his or her sensory reactions to external occurrences. Stream-of-consciousness writing
is strongly associated with the modernist movement

Modernist literature is defined by its move away from Romanticism, venturing into
subject matter that is traditionally mundane--a prime example being The Love Song
of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. Modernist literature often features a marked
pessimism, a clear rejection of the optimism apparent in Victorian literature. In fact,
"a common motif in Modernist fiction is that of an alienated individual--a
dysfunctional individual trying in vain to make sense of a predominantly urban and
fragmented society".

Third Person with Stream of Consciousness

(Mansfield varies from Omniscient as in Prelude to Limited as in Millie, Little

Governness)

This mix provides all the benefits of 3rd person ( overall perspective of scene -
setting, mood, broad details, characters ) with all the benefits of 1st person
(Inner most thoughts, reactions, strong characterisation)

TV shows Scrubs and Family Guy often uses the technique. For example, the
protagonist once stated "And it'll be special! But not special like the boy down the
street. More like Special K. And for that matter, whatever happened to regular "K"?
Or Kay Ballard? You know, if you had a cold and said "ballard" it would sound like
"Mallard
Or (b) Comment closely on the presentation of Laura in the following passage, paying
particular attention to how Mansfield combines the internal and external worlds of
the character.

Four men in their shirt-sleeves stood grouped together on the garden path.
They carried staves covered with rolls of canvas, and they had big tool-bags slung
on their backs. They looked impressive. Laura wished now that she was not holding
that piece of bread-and-butter, but there was nowhere to put it, and she couldnt
possibly throw it away. She blushed and tried to look severe and even a little bit
short-sighted as she came up to them.
Good morning, she said, copying her mothers voice. But that sounded so
fearfully affected that she was ashamed, and stammered like a little girl, Oher
have you comeis it about the marquee?
Thats right, miss, said the tallest of the men, a lanky, freckled fellow, and he
shifted his tool-bag, knocked back his straw hat and smiled down at her. Thats
about it.
His smile was so easy, so friendly, that Laura recovered. What nice eyes he
had, small, but such a dark blue! And now she looked at the others, they were
smiling too. Cheer up, we wont bite, their smile seemed to say. How very nice
workmen were! And what a beautiful morning! She mustnt mention the morning;
she must be business-like. The marquee.
Well, what about the lily-lawn? Would that do?
And she pointed to the lily-lawn with the hand that didnt hold the bread-andbutter.
They turned, they stared in the direction. A little fat chap thrust out his underlip,
and the tall fellow frowned.
I dont fancy it, said he. Not conspicuous enough. You see, with a thing like a
marquee, and he turned to Laura in his easy way, you want to put it somewhere
where itll give you a bang slap in the eye, if you follow me.
Lauras upbringing made her wonder for a moment whether it was quite
respectful of a workman to talk to her of bangs slap in the eye. But she did quite
follow him.
A corner of the tennis-court, she suggested. But the bands going to be in one
corner.
Hm, going to have a band, are you? said another of the workmen. He was
pale. He had a haggard look as his dark eyes scanned the tennis-court. What was
he thinking?
Only a very small band, said Laura gently. Perhaps he wouldnt mind so much
if the band was quite small. But the tall fellow interrupted.
Look here, miss, thats the place. Against those trees. Over there. Thatll do
fine.
Against the karakas. Then the karaka-trees would be hidden. And they were so
lovely, with their broad, gleaming leaves, and their clusters of yellow fruit. They were
like trees you imagined growing on a desert island, proud, solitary, lifting their leaves
and fruits to the sun in a kind of silent splendour. Must they be hidden by a
marquee?
They must. Already the men had shouldered their staves and were making for
the place. Only the tall fellow was left. He bent down, pinched a sprig of lavender,
put his thumb and forefinger to his nose and snuffed up the smell. When Laura saw
that gesture she forgot all about the karakas in her wonder at him caring for things
like thatcaring for the smell of lavender. How many men that she knew would have
done such a thing? Oh, how extraordinarily nice workmen were, she thought. Normal
Narration

Stream or slice
(although slice isnt a technical name)

3rd person allows creation mood setting atmosphere

Within that - stream of consciousness allows the reader to see through the
characters (perceptions etc) as if it were a 1st person narrative.

First Person

I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning
mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so, the evening mists were rising
now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no
shadow of another parting from her.

Third Person Limited

He rubbed his hands. For, of course, they didnt content themselves with merely
hatching out embryos: any cow could do that.

We also predestine and condition. We decant our babies as socialized human beings,
as Alphas or Epsilons, as future sewage workers or future He was going to say
future World Controllers, but correcting himself, said future Directors of
Hatcheries instead.

The D.H.C. acknowledged the compliment with a smile.

They were passing metre 320 on rack eleven. A young Beta-Minus mechanic was
busy with screw- driver and spanner on the blood-surrogate pump of a passing bottle.
The hum of the electric motor deepened by fractions of a tone as he turned the nuts.
Down, down A final twist, a glance at the revolution counter, and he was done. He
moved two paces down the line and began the same process on the next pump.

Reducing the number of revolutions per minute, Mr. Foster explained. The
surrogate goes round slower; therefore passes through the lung at longer intervals;
therefore gives the embryo less oxygen. Nothing like oxygen- shortage for keeping an
embryo below par. Again he rubbed his hands.

But why do you want to keep the embryo below par? asked an ingenuous student.

Ass! said the Director, breaking a long silence. Hasnt it occurred to you that an
Epsilon embryo must have an Epsilon environment as well as an Epsilon heredity?

It evidently hadnt occurred to him. He was covered with confusion.

The lower the caste, said Mr. Foster, the shorter the oxygen. The first organ
affected was the brain. After that the skeleton. At seventy per cent. of normal oxygen
you got dwarfs. At less than seventy, eyeless monsters.

Who are no use at all, concluded Mr. Foster.

Whereas (his voice became confidential and eager), if they could discover a technique
for shortening the period of maturation what a triumph, what a benefaction to Society!

Consider the horse.

They considered it.

Mature at six; the elephant at ten. While at thirteen a man is not yet sexually mature;
and is only full grown at twenty. Hence, of course, that fruit of delayed development,
the human intelligence.

But in Epsilons, said Mr. Foster very justly, we dont need human intelligence.

Didnt need and didnt get it. But though the Epsilon mind was mature at ten, the
Epsilon body was not fit to work till eighteen. Long years of superfluous and wasted
immaturity. If the physical development could be speeded up till it was as quick, say,
as a cows, what an enormous saving to the Community!

Enormous! murmured the students. Mr. Fosters enthusiasm was infectious.

He became rather technical; spoke of the abnormal endocrine co-ordination which

made men grow so slowly; postulated a germinal mutation to account for it. Could the
effects of this germinal mutation be undone? Could the individual Epsilon embryo be
made to revert, by a suitable technique, to the normality of dogs and cows? That was
the problem. And it was all but solved.

Pilkington, at Mombasa, had produced individuals who were sexually mature at four
and full grown at six and a half. A scientific triumph. But socially useless. Six-year-
old men and women were too stupid to do even Epsilon work. And the process was an
all-or-nothing one; either you failed to modify at all, or else you modified the whole
way. They were still trying to find the ideal compromise between adults of twenty and
adults of six. So far without success. Mr. Foster sighed and shook his head.
Third person Omniscient

Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from
suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his
friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her
without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to
criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had
hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly
intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded
some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than
one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure
to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those
of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was
perfectly unaware; -- to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable no
where, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her
himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was
at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were assembled. ``What does Mr. Darcy
mean,'' said she to Charlotte, ``by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?''

``That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.''

``But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about.
He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall
soon grow afraid of him.''