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A daily record of what I'm thinking about what I'm reading

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Saturday, September 16, 2017

Social class and issues of first-person narrators in Balchin's A Way Through the Wood

It's probably unfair to expect a first-person narrator such as Jim Manning in Nigel Balchin's 1951 novel, A Way Through the Wood, to create a rich sense of place; that's one of the main differences between first- and third-person narrations. First-person narrators can only rarely develop mood and atmosphere, or they will risk losing credibility as they will sound, inevitably, like the author and not the character (exceptions: Proust's narrator, who obviously is the author; Nick Carroway, just the exception that proves the rule). First-person narrators are, however, a way for the author to establish character and voice; the danger, which I see here in Way Through the Woods, is that they will slip into type. Oddly, Balchin's narrator changes "type," chameleon-like: for the first 100 pp. or so he seems like an uptight, upper-caste Brit, snobbish and bitterly reserved. This tone holds through the first stages of the investigation of the car crash and culminates in his cool acquiescence when his wife, Jill, says she needs to go away to Spain for a few weeks to work things out with her lover, Bill Bule. Wouldn't any normal guy say something like: If you go, don't come back. But JM is fine and understanding and not even angry with the insidious Bule. Go figure. He in fact enters into a little conspiracy with Bule. JM is willing to play along with Bule's subterfuge in order to protect his wife from a charge of hit-and-run fatality; Bule's chauffeur indicates he can provide testimony that will undo Bule's fake alibi, and Bule get JM to go along with him in putting the squeeze on the chauffeur: Bule accuses the chauffeur to theft (rightly so) and tells him to get lost or they'll report it to the police. Well, actually, the chuaffeur should have the upper hand; he should have told Bule you do that and I'll nail you w/ my testimony (additionally, Bule asked him to repaint the scratches on the car!) - but what we see is class politics coming into play: the chauffeur figures, maybe correctly, that no judge would accept his word over the word of an landowner like Bule. Why, however, does Manning sink so low? Then the novel takes a strange turn, as Manning goes off for a visit to Venice w/ an American couple, old friends - and he begins to sound (and act) increasingly like an American noir detective, as he prowls the night haunts of Venice, always with a holier-than-thou attitude (refusing the advances of a friendly, alcoholic, high-class prostitute). The novel is veering off course - as we more or less have forgotten about the fatal hit-and-run and Manning's only concern is his disintegrating marriage and his personal malaise. That said, something about the clean writing and the focus on action keeps me engaged, and I'm eager to see how - or if - the strands come together and who (which social class) will come out on top. I'm betting the wealthy walk away from all responsibility and consequences.


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