“In The Great Gatsby and Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises the authors use their narrators to suggest that there is no single and unequivocal truth.”
Definitions of unreliable narrators make reference to the idea of an objective reality, or truth, which the narrators deprive us of with their opinions. David Lodge tells us in 'The Art of Fiction' that 'the point of using an unreliable narrator is indeed to reveal in an interesting way the gap between appearance and reality, and how human beings distort or conceal the latter'. However, this essay argues that the although the narrators provide us with a perspective, there is no actual truth that we may attain, merely different, more accepted, points of view. The way in which the narrators characterise the others often conflicts with the actions performed by the those characters, leading us to the belief that Nick’s and Jake’s actions and opinions are determined by their schemas, or the cognitive framework in which they view the world. One slightly apathetic and detached in Nick, and also in Jake, yet here somewhat resigned and disillusioned. This disorients the reader in The Great Gatsby, and places them at a skewed perspective in Fiesta, opening the novel up to a plurality of readings. The authors’ constructions of the novels form psychologically real characters, providing us with a perspective, a version of the 'truth' of the novel; providing us with a personal truth, personal to the narrator, but often questioned the reader.
This first point discusses the authors' intentional contradictions which seek to incite uncertainty. In the first chapter of Gatsby, we are told by Nick that Gatsby had ‘an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness[…] No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby[…]that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men’. However, we are later to learn that Gatsby’s dreams have been funded by illicit bootlegging, a fact known by Nick whilst he vehemently denies Gatsby’s fault in the matter. Whatever his reasons for doing so, Nick influences our view of Gatsby before we have all the facts to form a proper opinion. We can even see Nick’s thoughts working in his ‘No’, as if Nick has to justify Gatsby’s innocence to himself as much as to us. Nick here also provides us with an example of perspective: how, during the time frame of the novel, he lost interest in people’s mood. This disillusionment gives us a feeling of loss, emphasised by the word ‘abortive’, with almost deathly connotations. We are, therefore, reading a novel written by someone with very little interest in anything other that Gatsby’s successes, and our views of the other characters may be infected with a lack of interest. Likewise, although on a smaller scale, we see Jake's pessimism when he says of Georgette that 'the girl looked sullen'. However immediately afterward he adds that 'She grinned', and goes on to criticise that as well. But for her to look sullen and then grin indicates a serious disparity in observation. His return from the war and his injury have made him bitter, and, in terms of Freudian psychology, he projects his gloomy demeanour onto others, even those who smile. His description of her as a 'girl' reflects his view of women as immature since his rejection by Brett on account of his impotency, which he views as a childish reason not to be with someone.
The imposition of these contradictions within itself constructs the schemas of the narrators. We can determine the narrator's tendencies or attitudes via actions that they actually perform in the novel. When Tom informs Nick in chapter two when they reach the valley of ashes '"We're getting off"[...][Nick] followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence'. Considering that Nick's original plan was to go to New York, his agreeability at a sudden change of destination suggests a lack of preference in the direction of his own life, the low fence contributing to the idea of having only a vague sense of the terrain under his feet he has to cover, despite their actual problematic nature. We therefore imagine that descriptions of those in whom he has little interest may be scarce and bare. This would explain, despite the countless characters mentioned, including a list of nearly a hundred in chapter four, there are very few 'actual' people. Daisy and Gatbsy are continually described due to Nick's infatuation, and Jordan due to their relationship. However, considering his proximity to Jordan versus Daisy, we may see an uneven distribution of blame, and Wolfsheim, key in Gatsby's downfall, is missed out almost completely after the first encounter. In chapter six of Fiesta, after Frances Clyne's rant to Cohn, of whom Jake had said he was one of a 'certain people to whom you could not say insulting things. They gave you a feeling that the world would be destroyed [...] if you said certain things', about how 'Robert's always wanted to have a mistress', Jake stands and says '"I've got to go in and see Harvey Stone a minute"', and then proceeds home instead. The comment on the end of the world is very drastic, and supposedly shows some great passion for Cohn, and yet his lack of action corroborates the saying 'the empty vessel sounds the loudest'. Furthermore, although Harvey Stone is the person he has seen most recently, and therefore in the fore of his mind, as an aimless, gambling drunkard who claims not to have eaten in five days, he provides an interesting parallel with Jake's lack of purpose. Whilst Jake has very strong opinions of the integrity of Robert and the selfishness of Frances, he is ever the pacifist, choosing to avoid conflict because he doesn't wish to make enemies, but more because he does not care enough to act. This provides a context or Hemingway's minimalist style, in which rich description is often abandoned for the sake of lists and clear events, places and people. Jake has no interest in a romantic, literary view of the world, as is quite clear from his disdain of Cohn's reading 'The Purple Land'. Instead, he lets the world pass by him, and chooses not to act, and, by extension, to comment.
Heretofore we have narrators presenting us with biased attitudes towards the world; what this does in the context of reading is give us a novel which is somewhat incomplete at times, one which we must figure out ourselves. In chapter six of 'Gatsby', Nick narrates the main events of Gatsby's life, ending by saying 'he told me all this very much later, but I've put it down here with the idea of exploding those first wild rumours about his antecedents, which weren't even faintly true'. Not only are we presented with the issue that, as a character, it is only Nick's opinion that this version of Gatsby's past is true, but now we have information that Nick did not have at this point in the novel, and would not have until chapter eight. We now experience the plaza hotel scene with a firm belief in Gatsby which none of the other characters would have had, putting us into a false sense of security, since these events may, in fact, be lies as well. We are now out of synchronisation with both our narrator, the chronology and the truth. In chapter seven of 'Fiesta', when Brett asks '"Want to go?" I had the feeling as in a nightmare of it all being something repeated, something I had been through and that now I must go through again. "......" the drummer sang softly. "Let's go," said Brett. "You don't mind." "......" the drummer shouted and grinned at Brett'. This extract, if we are to read it in keeping with the reading of Jake as rejecting difficult realities and situations, seems to work towards a dark profundity, but regresses into observation of the drummer. It could be read that Jake is omitting either strong emotions he experienced, or even something that went on between the two of them on the dance-floor which he wishes to forget.
Jean Evans, in her article 'The Unreliable Narrator: How Unreliable is Unreliable?', stipulates that Nick 'takes a very partial view of the protagonist and reveals himself to be not entirely trutstworthy within the world of the text', also admitting it is a given 'that all first person novels are in one way or another partial and biased'. But no view of any world, either first person, third person omniscient, or a general consensus of generations of readers, is so virtuous as to be impartial and unbiased, as can be seen in the world of a text: where all the information we receive is through someone who is claimed to be unreliable, and yet we have our own opinions on it. Every individual views the novels through their own schemas, with an individual collection of genes, thoughts and experiences. We may therefore say, in a world populated with vile bodies and imperfect minds, that reliability is an almost divine concept, which we, as humans, will never understand.
Bibliography
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. London: Penguin, 2000.
Hemingway, Ernest. Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises. London: Vintage, 2000.
Lodge, David. The Art of Fiction. S.l.: Vintage, 2011.
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