In the vast world of psychological thriller and mystery literature, truth often appears as an unclear and elusive concept. As in real life, so in literature there can be a very thin line between what is real and what is merely someone’s imagination. While in reality we have more than enough instruments for bending the truth, from political propaganda to our internal defense mechanisms, in literature there is one particular (and I would say predominant) mechanism used for twisting this thin line between imagination and reality: the unreliable narrator. This literary device has come a long way from its nascent forms in classic literature to its more complex manifestations used by modern authors. Along that path, the unreliable narrator has evolved to become a powerful tool that challenges readers’ perceptions and keeps them guessing until the very last page.
The Roots of Unreliability
If you are unfamiliar with the term, an unreliable narrator in literature is a character who tells a story that may or may not be truthful or reliable. The reason for this can vary widely; the source of unreliability could be the character’s own biases, intentional deceit, limited knowledge, use of drugs and intoxication, or any number of other factors. But no matter what their reasons are, unreliable narrators are there to create an additional layer of complexity, challenge the reader’s perception, and make the road to the book’s final pages branching, curvy, and much less familiar.
The book often mentioned as one of the first that used (and perhaps invented) the “device” of the unreliable narrator is Agatha Christie’s “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd” (1926). There, the main narrator throughout the entire book, Dr. James Sheppard, appears from the start as a trustworthy and reliable storyteller. Although his words are perceived by the reader as genuine, at the end of the book, Dr. Sheppard is ultimately revealed as the murderer, which renders his complete story a deceit. This novel technique took the audience by surprise, with some critics (as expected) arguing it violated the “fair play” rules in the field of detective fiction.
In complete contrast to Christie’s narrator was Frank Chambers, the narrator in James M. Cain’s “The Postman Always Rings Twice” (1934). He was a drifter and admitted murderer, which aroused suspicion about his narrating credibility in the reader’s mind from the very beginning of the book. In this early stage of the device’s development, the unreliable narrator was primarily used as a plot twist “switcher,” and the revelation of the narrator’s unreliability typically came at the end of the story. This not only forced readers to reevaluate everything they had read up to that moment but also brought significant shock value and added a layer of complexity to the narrative.
The Golden Age of Mystery: Subtle Deceptions
Pioneer in this field, Agatha Christie, raised the bar even higher with her 1939 novel “And Then There Were None“. The perspective of multiple characters, each with their own hidden agendas and motives, made readers question the reliability of everything they read in the book. This created a general atmosphere of doubt and tension as readers grew suspicious that not everything was as it seemed.
Concerned about critics’ complaints regarding detective fiction’s “fair-play” rules, some authors embraced a meta-fictional approach. The Ellery Queen novels (written by cousins Frederic Dannay and Manfred Bennington Lee) introduced a “Challenge to the Reader” concept. Before the final chapter, they would warn the reader about the potential unreliability of the narrative, inviting them to solve the mystery themselves.
It seems that authors of the golden era of mystery and detective literature were simultaneously thrilled with the possibilities of this new writing technique while trying to “play by the rules” of the previous generation. Consequently, they invented “techniques for subtle unreliability”. These included “omission through focus,” where narrators speak the truth but distract the reader from important information by focusing on irrelevant details, or “emotional involvement,” where narrators closely involved with the case become unreliable in their judgment due to their own feelings.
While this approach forced “savvy” readers to engage more deeply with the text, as “nobody could be trusted,” unreliability also became a tool for deeper character exploration rather than just a “plot-switching device”. This ultimately paved the way for the more experimental approaches that followed the golden era of detective fiction.
Mid-20th Century: Psychological Depths
The evolution of mystery literature in the mid-20th century led both authors and readers to a new dimension: rather than using unreliability solely for the sake of plot or story, it was now employed to explore human nature and psychology.
This shift from focus on story to focus on the individual gained prominence in noir fiction during the 1940s and 1950s. In Jim Thompson’s “The Killer Inside Me” (1952), the story is seen through the eyes of Lou Ford, a psychopathic deputy sheriff. His true nature is concealed from the reader by a charming facade, creating a significant duality between his actions and his narration. This blurred the lines between antagonist and protagonist, putting the mind of a disturbed individual at the center of the reader’s attention.
A similar approach is evident in Shirley Jackson’s “We Have Always Lived in the Castle” (1962), where narrator Merricat Blackwood colors the entire narrative with her disturbed mental state.
Instead of focusing on a person’s sanity, Vladimir Nabokov’s “Lolita” (1955) puts moral judgments to the test. The narrator, Humbert Humbert, uses his eloquence and self-justification to create a complex web of unreliability, challenging readers’ ethical perspectives.
It is clear that the advancements in unreliable narrator techniques during this era shifted the focus from detective literature to psychological thrillers. Paranoia, delusions, and memory issues became the main areas of exploration for writers at that time. Authors began to ask whether there was more than one reality and, if so, which one should be believed. This exploration of subjective reality and the unreliability of perception would become central themes in the next evolution of the unreliable narrator.
Contemporary Landscape: Unreliability as the Norm
By the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the device of the unreliable narrator was no longer a novelty. Readers had become well aware of the technique, and it began to lose some of its potency. Unreliability was now expected by readers, and its plot twist and shock value were no longer as impactful. It seemed as though authors were merely rephrasing what had already been written, with new ideas becoming scarce and hard to come by.
Some fresh approaches emerged, such as Paula Hawkins’ “The Girl on the Train” (2015), which employed multiple narrators, including one burdened with severe alcohol abuse and psychological issues. Gillian Flynn’s “Gone Girl” (2012) also used dual narrators, an approach praised by critics as a fresh take on the well-known technique. While both books are undoubtedly good, I don’t believe they sparked a true revolution in the genre.
The Curse of Finite Possibilities
I must say that I agree with some critics who argue that unreliable narration has become too common and overexploited. Readers have become savvier and now expect any plot twist except truly original ones. However, it seems that the pool of original ideas is finite, and I fear that it may have nearly dried up.
