a tribute to the voice of the narrator
The voice is typically classified into three levels:
- The author’s voice
- The narrator’s voice
- The character’s voice
The author’s voice: There’s a lot said about the author’s voice, their distinctive turns of phrase and twists of humour. Indeed, a compelling voice is one of the reasons we keep buying an author’s books, the chance to experience Olivie Blake’s heavy, decadent imagery or Emily Henry’s whipped cream airiness over again. An author’s is almost akin to a singer’s voice- it is their obvious unique selling proposition.
The narrator’s voice: This is not to be confused with modes of narration, like first second and third person narration. This refers to the voice of the narrator of the book or novel, or rather, the person or omniscient being narrating the book. Of course, in many cases, the narrator’s voice overlaps with a character’s voice as, in first person narration, but in many other cases, it does not, and here, regardless, we’ll be talking about both.
The character’s voice: This refers to a character’s distinctive ways of speaking, from the extremes of Yoda’s irregular syntax (fix your syntax you must not) or the more moderate realms of Ronald Weasley’s particular catchphrases. However, a voice goes beyond such quirks of syntax and word choice, and can delineate the character’s personality and thought processes clearly and powerfully without them. When a character has really rich, distinct voices, it is possible to recognise something they’ve spoken even out of context
Here, I would like to celebrate the comparatively neglected, but vitally important voice of the narrator by looking at some of the narrators and narrative voices I love the most, and why I love them.
Firstly, we must appreciate the most literal interpretation of voice.
If you’re like me, as your eyes scour the pages, there’s an almost imperceptible internal voice enunciating the words- which is the voice of the narrator. Characters live and laugh and love and die but it is that voice that is your constant guide through the journey of the story. It is that voice whose particular patterns of intonation and stress punctuate the plot points, the climax, the denouement.
At the very beginning of the story the voice you hear is plain, whatever you or I would consider the norm based on our backgrounds and contexts. Over the course of the first few pages, as we gain context and colour, the voice you hear reading sharply increases in uniqueness, taking on an accent, a masculine or feminine quality, a particular cadence, a rhythm . And after the first few chapters, the voice stays constant, unchanging throughout the book.
The author moulds this literal voice we hear. Perhaps through direct description, but most likely through word choice, setting, characterisation, and in some cases a little authorial license with spelling and grammar. The diction and word choice are the most obvious aspects that shape the voice, the sounds of the words making a great difference, maybe some sibilant s’s to make the voice smoother, perhaps an effective smattering of hard k’s to turn it punchy and fast paced. Furthermore, the setting of contributes locational aspects to the voice such as accents.
The characterisation of the narrator also contributes to how we hear their voice, are they loud and joking, and drawling and sarcastic?. With regards to authorial license, sometimes spelling variations are introduced to very purposefully shape the accent of the voice we hear reading the lines and Sally Rooney’s stilted punctuation makes one hear her books as hushed and breathless.
First Person Narration
The most tangible of the notable examples I am going to recount, and there have been a number of exceptional first person narrators. Usually, the narrator is a major character in the narrative, though in some cases (much older books, generally) the story is recounted by one of the major players in the narrative to an everyman minor character.
In Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier the narrator, the second Mrs De Winter remains unnamed through the book. The young, quiet new wife of the forbidding Maxim de Winter is constrained both by the social conventions of that era and her own inexperience and timidity. She is an indistinct figure in the distance, pale and colourless. However, her descriptions of Manderley are rich and vibrant, despite being told in her soft subdued voice. The narration is powerful and moving as it brings to light the stark contrast between her inner thoughts, and her external words and actions.
Holden Caulfield’s rather high and drawling voice is unforgettable, because Salingers’ word choice in the Catcher in the Rye, a potent mixture of crassness and earnestness, portrays the mind of an overly jaded teenager who only fails to turn his critical eye towards himself. Holden’s narration brings to light his hypocrisy, but also his grief for his dead brother, and makes us feel fully his earnest devotion to the things he considers beautiful.
Bumbling Bertram Wooster, in PG Wodehouse has a distinctly flustered British accent. The perpetually harried bachelor is a foil to the unruffled Jeeves. His narration, besides contributing hilarious discussions, even further exaggerates the contrast between him and his faithful butler, as we see Bertie’s mix-ups and tangles first-hand, but only view his smooth butler through his eyes.
Third Person Narration
Omniscient Narrators
Voice of God / Death / Immortal celestial beings, personified concepts and sundry
It has become fashionable for the narrators of novels to be narrated for novels to be narrated by an omniscient being too vast in scope and greatness to be truly be involved in the narrative, an impartial, yet overall, compassionate observer.
In The Book Thief by Mark Zusak, the narrator is Death. Though few novels dare to have God as a narrator (another reason to be excited about Olivie Blake’s newest book Gifted and Talented), many choose a personification of death as the narrator. In The Book Thief, Death is sarcastic and funny, and purposes to be amazed by the intricacies of humanity, and its infinite capacity for good and evil. Death’s narration thus highlights the acts of heroism that shined through the horrors of the Holocaust.
In books one and 2 of the Nevernight chronicles, immediately preceding the story is a cautionary diatribe about the dirt and grime and visceral that a glorious heroic narrative conceals. Here, the narrator is an unnamed entity, though again sarcastic and wise, and particularly fond of footnotes. As foreshadowed in the beginning of the novel, as the book progresses, the narrator’s sharp, caustic voice keeps from over-romanticising the story and its purported heroism.
Free Indirect Discourse
Jane Austen’s pioneered free indirect discourse, an elegant blend of the omniscient narrator and third person limited, jumping between an omniscient birds eye view and the characters more constrained perspectives. The stereotypically British feminine voice of the omniscient transitions the greater part of the narrative smoothly to the distinct thoughts and feelings of a particular character. Jane Austen thus balances the humour provided by the omniscient character and sympathy we have for the characters upon hearing about their thoughts and feelings.
3rd Person Limited
Harry Potter is a rather under-appreciated example of the third person limited style of narration. In Harry Potter, the third person limited perspective guides us clearly through the sweeping narrative about fascism keeps the narrative from being too pedantic. Hearing only Harry’s thoughts and feelings, in his slowly maturing voice allow us to understand his growth as a person better, but also keeps us hooked through the seven book series, creating suspense at points, and allowing us to feel for him as a character.
Endnote
The narrative voice is vital to a narrative as it is our guide to through an unfamiliar place, time or culture, and as we have seen in these memorable narrators and styles of narration’s, can make a novel worth reading.









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