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Guilherme Dearo

Point of View in Salman Rushdie and Raymond Carver

Atualizado: 28 de jun.

Voices and point of view in "Good Advice Is Rarer Than Rubies" and "The Calm"



“Good Advice Is Rarer Than Rubies” (1987), a short story by Salman Rushdie (Bombaim, 1947), tells the story of Miss Rehana, an Indian woman going to the British Consulate to try to get a visa. Her husband is in Britain already and she wants to meet him. Miss Rehana’s eyes “were large and black, and bright enough not to need the help of antimony” [1]. At the same time, the narrative presents us to Muhammad Ali, a man whose daily activity consists in scamming the confused people that go to the consulate every Tuesday, getting their trust and, then, their money. He is well-mannered, well-spoken and knows how to obtain the sympathy of his victims. He is “specialised in advising the most vulnerable-looking of these weekly supplicants” [2]. But Miss Rehana isn’t as innocent as she appears, and Muhammad Ali will be surprised by her wit. As the narrative develops, the reader is presented to a tour de force between the two characters. Ali tries to advise her, but also intimidates her. Miss Rehana doesn’t let herself be scared by Ali. In the end, the reader finds out that she doesn’t want to go to England and meet her husband from a arranged marriage, so she fails the visa interview on purpose.


To compare, we have “The Calm” (1981), a short story by Raymond Carver (Clatskanie, 1938-1988), a contemporary of Rushdie. The short story tells us about a man who goes to the barber to get a haircut. While sitting in the barber’s chair, he observes the other clients and listens to their conversations. The narrative, told from the point of view of the character/narrator, who, in the present, remembers the past situation in the barbershop, focuses on one particular story the narrator listens to, told by a guard named Charles. That client tells the other men a story about the time he went hunting deers with his dad and his son and things didn't go as planned. The other clients react to Charles’ adventure, while the narrator, very discreet, listens to everything in silence. In the end, the narrator puts himself back in the story, with a lot of lirism and subjectivism: “We looked in the mirror together, his hands still framing my head. (...) He ran his fingers through my hair. He did it slowly, as if thinking about something else. (...) I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I close my eyes and let the barber’s fingers move through my hair (...)”. [3]


Both short stories want to show the reader the brief and thin relation between two characters, although one is more explicit than the other: in Rushdie’s narrative, the explicit and combative encounter between Miss Rehana and Ali; in Carver's, the cold but somehow meaningful relation between the narrator and the barber. Both of the stories need to show the reader what happens “in real life” (the dialogues, the actions, what is verbalized and acted in a space/time frame), but also what happens in the characters' minds and hearts. For that, each author uses a specific type of narrator and point of view, producing different results, but using a kind of narrator that fits perfectly in their intentions. In “Literature” (DAVIS, BROUGHTON, WOOD, 1977), point of view is defined as “the vantage point or place from which the author reveals character, setting, and event” [4]. In both cases, the point of view serves the purpose of better presenting characters and their actions, and the narrator elucidates a specific situation that, concentrated, but elusive in meaning, suggests something beyond to the reader, because, “the modern writer’s desire for realism causes him to focus upon a limited moment of time or a limited area of action in order that it may be more fully explored and understood” [5].


In Rushie’s narrative, both characters hide a secret. None of them can’t tell one another what is really going on. Miss Rehanna hides the fact that she doesn’t want to go to England. Muhammad Ali must hide that he isn’t a man full of good advices and intentions, but a crook. If they can’t verbalize the truth, and that mystery is essential for the tension of the narrative - but the truth is necessary for the full understanding of the plot - we need to enter in their minds, where nothing can be out of sight. For that, the author needs a narrator that allows the scene to present itself and also allows the characters to speak for themselves, but at the same time one with the power of omniscience. For Carver’s, we can perceive from the narrative that the reality, as plain and rough it can be, is enough for the protagonist, who doesn’t do more than listen and observe. The author wants a straight description of reality, and the protagonist does that for him, describing ipsis litteris what he’s listened to and he's seen. This allows the narrative to, as a testimony, presents to the reader stories inside stories, such as the hunting story told by Charles. But the narrative, by giving that direct space for that character/narrator, allows him to speak for himself and show his feelings: there is a very discreet and subtended reason for why he decided to remember that day in the barber, pointing that there is something more than what is being told, and that simple situations can have deep resonances. As Julio Cortázar points in “Alguns Aspectos do Conto”, the writer, in a short story, has the necessity of choose one element, a meaningful one, that can justify itself, but also that can works in the reader as a opening for something more deep, "projecting intelligence and sensibility towards something bigger than the element itself” [6].


In “The Calm”, Carver uses a first person narrator to create a sense of present and immediatism in the story. We are transported to the barbershop as witnesses. Through the character/narrator recollections, we have a supposedly veridic and precise report about the conversations of that day. There are other voices apart from the narrator, but it is always something he listens to. If he is not listening to people or telling us what is happening, the other characters don’t have any autonomy or even existence. When other voices appear, they are marked with quotation marks. But the character/narrator always mediates all, without erasing the effect of a direct and dynamic dialogue in front of us:


“‘Then what?’, said the fellow with the newspaper, who had rolled it and was tapping it against his knee. ‘Then what? You must have trailed him. They find a hard place to die every time’.

‘But you trailer him?’ the older man asked, though it wasn’t really a question..” [7]


As defined by Norman Friedman in “Point of View in Fiction: The Development of a Critical Concept”, the type of point of view where a narrator in first person, who participates in the actions, is the only responsible for the narration, can be called “I As Witness” [8]. We know the story based only on the point of view of that character/narrator. As Friedman explains: “The witness-narrator is a character on his own right within the story itself, more or less involved in the action, more or less acquainted with its chief personages, who speaks to the reader in the first person” [9]. According to Friedman, within the limitations of that kind of narration, the witness-narrator has no access to the mind of others and he presents to the reader only what he, as an observer, may legitimately discover.


As a character/narrator, he presents the narrative in first person and serves as the center of any other action: “I was getting a haircut. I was in the chair and three men were sitting along the wall across from me. Two of the men waiting I’d never seen before” [10]. The reader feels an “immediate narration”, in the present or in a very close past, even when the character/narrator uses a past tense: “I liked this barber. We weren’t acquainted well enough to call each other by name” [11]. But, in the last paragraph, the character/narrator makes clear that it is a recollection from a long time ago: “That was in Crescent City, California, up near the Oregon border. I left soon after. But today I was thinking of that place (...)” [12]. Here, the narrative gives space for a moment of introspection and suggestion of deeper feelings than the plain and straight telling of a stranger's hunting story. “I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I closed my eyes and let the barber’s fingers move through my hair, the sweetness of those fingers, the hair already starting to grow” [13].


For “Good Advice Is Rarer Than Rubies”, the short story has an omniscient narrator and tells us the story above the character and the actions. It is an immediate narration, in the time of the narrative’s actions, in third person and in present and past tenses. The narrator knows what the characters think and feel, but, at the same time, the narrative has dialogues in first person, highlighted with quotation marks, allowing the characters to have a fair space to talk.


For example:


- The narrator knows what the characters think: “I am going crazy, Muhammad Ali thought, because he heard his voice telling her of its own volition”. [14]


- The narrator allows space for direct dialogue - and, at the same time, knows details about that voices:

“‘You have filled application form? Then let me see, please.’

She passed him a neaty folded document in a brown envelope.

‘Is it OK?’ For the first time there was a note of anxiety in her voice’”. [15]

- The narrator knows the interior, the intimacy, of the characters: “Muhammad Ali spoke brutally, on purpose, to lessen the shock she would feel when it, or something like it, actually happen”. [16]


Based on Norman Friedman's theory, we can say Rushdie uses a “Multiple Selective Omniscience” type of narrator [17]. That gives space for the “I” talking, although we know that someone is still narrating. In this type of point of view, there is a mix of inside characters' minds with outside moments. The narrator presents us the story “in real time”, almost with no interference, allowing us to feel that we are in the middle of the scene. This is important, because from the dialogue’s development that comes the dramatic effect of the story. At the same time, the narrator uses, in some moments and with discretion, the indirect voice to tell us what the characters are thinking and feeling, as such in the uses of comments as “note of anxiety in her voice” and “Muhammad Ali spoke brutally, on purpose”. This is crucial for allowing text and subtext to come to surface, side by side, expliciting the story’s drama. That would never be possible in a pure “‘I’ As Witness’” narrative, where the character/narrator could never attest with full conviction the meaning of a voice’s intonation or the use of simple word. And, although we feel that we are witnessing something “in real time”, the narrator shows that he already knows that. For example, when the narrator says about Muhammad Ali and his schemme: “It was at this point that Muhammad Ali usually began to whisper urgently, to mention that he knew a man, a very good type, who worked in the Consulate (...)” [18]. By using a Multiple Selective Omniscience in the story, the author prevent the sense of detachment that a first-person narrative as “I As Witness” could create, as a narrative with a “Editorial Omniscience” narrator, where the intimidating figure of a writer/narrator would tell the story far apart.


In comparison, we have two different styles of telling a story. Each type of point of view allows the writer to build the plot properly and achieves his intention of presenting to the reader a more meaningful experience than the basic events of the story suggests. In Carver’s story, we can only see the story from one character, because it is his memory, and we have to trust him when other characters appears. All of the setting, dialogue and comments are from his subjectivity. He is, since the first paragraph, the center of the narrative. That point of view seems limited, but it serves Carver's purpose: to present a concise and rough narrative, based on realism and precision of descriptions, but at the same time allows the reader to imply all the feelings the main character has, giving us only suggestions about why he, after so many time, decided to remember and tell the story. On the other hand, on Rushdie’s narrative, we have a broader view, with two main characters and the clash between them in the center of the story. Because of an omniscient narrator, we have access not only to spoken words, but also to feelings and thoughts and to things that happen long before the present event. This free access is basic for the tension that it is built along the pages, since secrets and second intentions are the base of the relationship the characters develop. By allowing the reader to know more than the characters, Rushdie creates a game where the readers want to see how far the scammer Ali can go, and at the same time they lean, as Ali, to see with curiosity and genuine fascination Miss Rehanna’s intriguing persona.


REFERENCES


BADER, A.L. "The structure of Modern Short Story", In: College English. Vol 7. No. 2 (Nov, 1945), National Council of Teachers of English.


CARVER, Raymond. “The Calm”, In: What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. London: Vintage, 2009.


CORTÁZAR, Julio. “Alguns Aspectos do Conto”, In: Valise de Cronópio. São Paulo: Perspectiva, 2018, 2ª edição.


DAVIS, Joseph K., BROUGHTON, Panthea R., WOOD, Michael. “Point of View”, In: Literature. Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1977.


FRIEDMAN, Norman. "Point of View in Fiction: The Development of a Critical Concept”, In: P. Stevick (ed.) The Theory of the Novel. New York: Free Press, 1967.


RUSHDIE, Salman. “Good Advice Is Rarer Than Rubies”, In: East, West. London: Vintage, 1994.


NOTES


1. RUSHDIE, Salman. “Good Advice Is Rarer Than Rubies”, In: East, West. London: Vintage, 1994. p. 5

2. Ibid., p. 6

3. CARVER, Raymond. “The Calm”, In: What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. London: Vintage, 2009. p. 102

4. DAVIS, Joseph K., BROUGHTON, Panthea R., WOOD, Michael. “Point of View”, In: Literature. Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1977. p. 101

5. BADER, A.L. "The structure of Modern Short Story", In: College English. Vol 7. No. 2 (Nov, 1945), National Council of Teachers of English. p. 110

6. CORTÁZAR, Julio. “Alguns Aspectos do Conto”, In: Valise de Cronópio. São Paulo: Perspectiva, 2018, 2ª edição. p. 151

7. CARVER, op. cit., p. 99

8. FRIEDMAN, Norman. "Point of View in Fiction: The Development of a Critical Concept”, In: P. Stevick (ed.) The Theory of the Novel. New York: Free Press, 1967. p. 124

9. Ibid., p. 125

10. CARVER, op. cit., p. 97

11. Ibid., p. 97

12. Ibid., p. 102

13. Ibid., p. 102

14. RUSHDIE, op. cit., p. 7

15. Ibid., p. 8

16. Ibid., p. 9

17. FRIEDMAN, op. cit., p. 127

18. FRIEDMAN, op. cit., p. 127

 

Citação: DEARO, Guilherme. "Point of View in Salman Rushdie and Raymond Carver". São Paulo: FFLCH/USP, junho de 2020.

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