Each Wednesday at 3:00 I drive a loved one to see his therapist.* During the 45-minute appointment, I sit in the waiting area and afterward, depending on the season, I drive this loved one to swim practice or soccer practice or to the grocery store to pick up a snickerdoodle or a pizza bagel for a snack.
After each session I do not ask the following questions:
1. So … what’d you guys talk about?
2. So … was the appointment helpful and if so, why?
3. So … does your therapist think I am, generally, a good mom?
The question I do ask: “So … Pizza bagel or snickerdoodle?”
But Holy Freud, Batman! I am DYING to know what has been said–about ME–in those 45 minutes. I want to hear how my loved one interprets my actions, my words, my blunders, and my love for him. I want to know how he misunderstands me and with whom the therapist sides. I want to know how I am being portrayed. How closely my truth aligns with my loved one’s truth. The ways that my loved one’s perspective differs from mine. Whether this paid professional thinks I’m a train-wreck.
Why doesn’t the therapist ask to hear my side of the story?
We all tend to believe that our point of view is the truest truth there is. But if I’m going to act like a grownup, I have to let go of the rightness of my version of truth and make room for the co-existing truth of this loved one. His point of view is just as valid as mine. Just as true too.
Have you seen Akira Kurosawa’s 1951 film, Rashomon? If not, check it out. If you haven’t seen it recently, rewatch it from the point of view of a writer studying POV in fiction. It offers a fascinating example of the relationship between POV, perspective, motive and truth.
Here’s the nutshell: In Rashomon, the story of a rape and a murder are recounted by four witnesses. As you might imagine, the four accounts vary wildly: Was the sex consensual or was it rape? Was the man murdered or did he die by suicide? And for crying out loud, whodunit? Whose truth is true?
While some viewers might feel frustrated by the ambiguity and truthiness of each character’s version of the crime, we writers likely find the film’s ambiguity delicious. The variety in points of view sparks questions about each character’s values, biases, secrets, motives and desires. As we see how one character interpret words, actions and events so differently from another character, we are reminded that truth truly is relative.
Story opens our eyes to the possibility that other valid points of view exist. Story reminds us to recognize that others’ truths are as true to them as our own truths are to us. These days, everyone’s so determined to be so dang right all the time. I wonder if the United States would feel more united if everyone were willing to read stories with a simple goal: to see and experience another person’s truth. Imagine the good our stories could do. Imagine a sudden, frenzied desire to hear others’ voices and perspectives. In case that happens, I guess we better make sure there are enough stories to go around. In other words, let’s keep writing.
Thinking about the stories I have read or listened to over the past year, I realized I have devoured a surprising amount of memoir: Sherman Alexie’s You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me, J.D. Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy and currently, Hillary Clinton’s What Happened. I don’t tend toward memoir, and I didn’t intentionally go searching for stories of race, gender, class, socio-economics or politics. I just wanted a good story. And in the case of Sherman Alexie, I just wanted to listen to him read his story. Because I love him. Not as much as I love my husband, but close.
While I was mainly in search of a good story, I got much more through these memoirs. And at some point along the path of each of these stories, I cried. When one’s head is cracked open to another human’s authentic truth, it hurts. And when something hurts, we cry. And when we cry, chances are good that we will internalize the story, tucking it away as eye-opening evidence that other people’s truths are valuable and worthy. And when we have that evidence, our defensive and fearful hearts soften … even when we worry a loved one’s in a therapy session saying weird things about us.
How can we use our own stories as heart softeners? By creating characters with differing points of view and perspectives. How do we make sure our characters’ points of view are defined, discrete and true? I try to consider questions such as these:
- What drives this character and how does that desire affect her POV?
- How has the character’s world view been molded by her truth and how has her truth been formed by her world view?
- How does the character’s motive in a particular scene (and in the whole story) inform her POV?
- How do a character’s secrets, fears and vulnerabilities affect her perspective?
- What’s at stake for the character, and how does this affect what she thinks, believes and reveals?
- How reliable is the narrator and how does this degree of reliability contribute to the story and to the reader’s experience?
Those questions provide me with some food for thought as I experiment with my characters’ POV. Maybe they will help you too. Meanwhile, it’s Wednesday, and I’m off to the grocery store. After allowing me to share these personal details with WU’ers, my loved one deserves a snickerdoodle and a pizza bagel.
Your turn! What work of memoir or fiction has revealed a POV that has softened your heart? Look at your own WIP; how is the POV of one of your characters impacted by bias, desire, motive or secrets? How might your story offer a perspective that might soften the heart of a reader?
Thanks, all, for sharing!
* The loved one approved the contents of this post. But don’t try to figure out who it is.
Photo found on Flickr’s Purple Slog.
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About Sarah Callender
Sarah Callender lives in Seattle with her husband, son and daughter. A crummy house-cleaner and terrible at responding to emails in a timely fashion, Sarah chooses instead to focus on her fondness for chocolate and Abe Lincoln. She is working on her third novel while her fab agent pitches the first two to publishers.
My example of POV comes from the game “Infamous: Second Son.” The MC character gains super powers after a prison transport crashes(the prisoners also have super powers) on the road near his town. The Antagonist, who also has super powers, shows up to capture the prisoners and torture the townspeople because she suspects that the MC has super powers. The MC then jets off to Seattle in pursuit.
Late in the game they met and we get her point of view. She wants to protect the people who have super powers, called Conduits. Being ex-military, the only way she knows how is scare the crap of the public so that they demand that the conduits be locked up. In fact she was responsible for the crash because her agency was being defunded and the conduits were being transferred to the military, who have a record of killing conduits during the first incident, of which she was a part.
It was quite a striking turn of events and a powerful demonstration of how POV can change perceptions.
YES! This is such a great example, David. Thank you for sharing. It can be startling to read a story, just humming along, feeling like we’ve got it all worked out, and then BAM!
Did your feelings about this Antagonist change when her POV was revealed? I like that the antagonist was a woman … did the author use stereotypes to reinforce the reader’s perceptions and opinions of the character? It’s so fun to be surprised.
Great example to demonstrate this idea. Thank you!
I certainly understood her more, didn’t agree with what she did (she is the antagonist). The designer certainly played up the whole “Iron Matron” feel with the clothing and hairstyle (very military)
Hi Sarah, an amazing post, as always. On the first page, my MC presents a POV about another character that is anathema to her spouse. There’s a big divide–but that’s a metaphor for the entire STORY. Each of us in real life and each of our characters comes to the scene, the page, the marriage etc. with a background of experience. In fiction we call it our origin story. And though Coates book is not fiction, that’s what we are reading–his origin, his experience that has formed him. I proposed just yesterday that we make our politicians read fiction. Or the books you listed in your post. I’d like to call out to everyone on the planet “Could we have a little empathy here?” which research says increases when reading fiction. Thanks for this post which I will think about as my MC fights “for her truth.” Cliche, I know, but so basic. And wishing the best to your loved one. I totally believe in counseling, each human and all our fictional characters need to be heard.
Hello dear Beth. Thank you! I could not agree more … every politician should be required to read at least one hundred works of fiction before taking office. Some of my most favorite Presidents were the most voracious readers. Not a coincidence, I am sure.
Yesterday, a former politician posted a Bible verse on her Twitter account, and the comments were so ugly. The scripture was about hope and perseverance, and she was absolutely ripped to shreds. Empathy. We need it. That’s the only way our country can recover.
I love what you say about your MC–the “big divide” is a fascinating thing to explore. Thank you, as always, for your thoughtful and kind comments. And for your empathy about therapy. I agree wholeheartedly!
“And in the case of Sherman Alexie, I just wanted to listen to him read his story. Because I love him. Not as much as I love my husband, but close.”
Oh yes — true for me as well. I was very worried about him when he dropped his book tour for mental health reasons. He wrote a poignant Facebook account of how difficult the tour was and how his mother’s ghost haunted him.
At the risk of sounding like that crazed fan in a Stephen King book (Misery?), I wanted to make Alexie many cups of tea and tell him it was going to be ok.
Thanks for post on POV, Sarah. Excellent as always.
Thank you, Lorraine. I have felt the exact same thing about Sherm. He lives in my neighborhood, and his kids went to my kids’ elementary school. Sometimes I would see him in the school parking lot, and I would be too shy to say a word.
Quite often, I think about his belief that his mother’s ghost is tormenting him. My two writing partners have published memoir, and we often talk about the challenges of writing their truth without trying to hurt their own loved ones. I don’t know how I’d have the courage to do that. I’d worry too much about hurt feelings and tormenting ghosts.
What did you think of his memoir?
Thanks for your words here. We can start an Alexie fan club. You be the President, and I’ll be in charge of snacks.
Love this post because creating authentic POV is so crucial. Thank you Sarah!
The first novel that really opened my eyes to POV was The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. Each of the five (or was it more?) characters had a wildly different but authentic POV. I’d love to have tea and conversation with Barbara to find out how she creates her magic.
The film The Reader, which takes place in Germany just before and after WW2, shows us two POVs over a period of years: that of Hanna, a prison guard in a concentration camp and her former lover, Michael. The complexity of both characters is evident in every line of dialogue, every look and gesture. Worth a watch.
Hi Rita! Thank you for the film recommendation! It sounds great on so many levels. I will check it out for sure.
And I loved seeing your comments about The Poisonwood Bible. After reading that, with such incredible shifts in POV and voice, I knew that was what would most interest and challenge me as a writer. I was once reading that novel while riding a city bus. I forgot to get off at my stop (can’t recall where I was going–it must not have been too pressing) so I just decided to do a round trip bus ride and keep reading. I read it to the end of the line, then back to my house. I am sure the bus driver thought I was weird. Which I am.
Happy writing to you, Rita! You are lovely.
That’s a great list of questions to ask the character, Sarah. I’ve copied and saved it for my own use and to share with students, thanks.
The only thing I might add would be: Does the character possess any contradictions that affect his POV? (This would help establish just how the character may seem to be unreliable and yet may be true to his own understanding of what he sees.)
Great post. Thanks!
Thank you, David! And I so appreciate your addition. I should have put a call out for all WU’ers to add to the list.
I am adding yours to line because it’s a delicious one. We are all contradictory in so many ways. Also hypocritical, fickle, capricious, and changeable at times. All of these human qualities makes for such rich fiction.
Have a great day, sir. And happy writing.
Sarah, my husband and I still argue about the year before we got married. The older we get, the closer we come to the objective truth :)
I’m finishing up Alexie’s memoir. Loved Diary of Part Time Indian and the short stories and I find it fascinating what a complex relationship he had with his mother. Gosh, you really do want to wrap him up in a warm quilt, no?
One of the most interesting books I read was LIAR by Justine Larbalestier. Masterfully written. I loved how she pulled the rug from under you every single time.
And I can just imagine you taking the dog for therapy on this Wed. :)
Hi Vijaya,
Your comment has been making me giggle all evening.
It is very difficult to get Toby, our two-year-old puppy, to sit on the therapist’s couch and talk about his mother and his feelings, but he is learning to use “I feel” statements and practicing the art of being comfortable with discomfort.
Thank you so much for the book recommendation. I will absolutely check it out! Happy November to you, sweet woman.
:)
Very timely post, Sarah. Thank you. Every so often our city has a city-wide reading program, when everyone is encouraged to read the same book and hold discussions about it, sort of a mass book club. When the book is well chosen, it can open our eyes to “how the other half (and one-quarter and one-eighth) lives,” or lived. Maybe we could use more of those.
Absolutely, Christine. I agree with this 100% … is there a way we can make this mandatory for all Americans? If only, right?
Until that happens, I guess we have to keep writing stories to share with as many millions of people as possible.
Thank you for your comment, and happy writing to you!
To me, the most important part is that SOMEONE – the author – know exactly what happened.
After that, everything in what I write comes from the point of view of the characters, and the author/narrator is kept strictly out of the picture. The characters all view ‘what happened’ from their own perspective.
What I find irritating in the utmost is ambiguity in the ending when it seems the author refuses to take responsibility for determining that. I think that’s an on/off switch with readers, some of whom like ambiguity in their endings and the ability to decide for themselves – and others who loathe that abdication of the author’s responsibility. It probably depends on the reader’s personality (another point of view).
There are many such dichotomies in readers of fiction – Romance readers requiring a HEA, for example – and enough writers and readers worldwide so everyone can be satisfied, but possibly that underlies some of the reluctance of readers to take on a new author.
Hi Alicia,
Thanks so much for your comment. I agree totally! If the reader doesn’t feel comfortable that the writer has the reins and is a solid and trustworthy driver, there’s no need to keep reading. It is never a comfy feeling to be the passenger riding along with an uncertain or ambivalent driver. Yikes!
I probably should know what an HEA is, but I don’t! Please enlighten? :)
Sarah, I was fascinated (and fascinatedly repelled) by the shifting POVs in Gone Girl, with the dual unreliable narrators who were crafty—and sometimes not so—liars and fact-omitters. Reading their musings was exasperating at times, but in a way that compelled reading further. Being in their heads was cruel delight.
And in other POV news (and because I want to say “penis” on WU), when I was 13, my best friend came running down to my house, electric with excitement. “Tom, Tom, there’s a song on the radio that says ‘penis’ over and over!” This thrilled him to no end, so we waited by my radio for the hit to come on again. Sadly, the main refrain of the song was “I’m Your Venus,” which my eager pal translated in the teenage-boy corridor of his mind into “penis.” That’s a slanted POV.
Oh, and I like Sherman Alexie a good deal too. I know if he was in your loved one’s therapy appointment and heard anything amiss said about you, he’d correct everybody, without hesitation.
Ha! I love this whole comment. I’m your penis. I’m your fire. It’s your desire. POV really is everything.
I used to think Tom Petty’s Running Down the Drain was a really good song. And then my little sister made fun of me.
I absolutely agree about Gone Girl. Not at all my typical novel, but I was hooked from the first sentence where the dude narrator mentioned that the first thing he noticed about his wife was the shape of her head. Creepy from the get-go! Brilliant too.
Happy writing, Tom.
Hi Sarah!
Interesting post. I’m very late to the game but have you seen the TV series Mr. Robot? Totally about POV and shifting POV. Without spoilers I’ll just say that it made me rethink unreliable narrators. Sometimes, they’re only as unreliable as their POV at the time.
Thank you for this, Bernadette! I have not seen the series, but I will check it out … and your example is such a good reminder that POV can change depending on time and circumstances. It’s so true! Mood, timing, age, etc. all influence POV. I’m so glad you mentioned this.
:)