When reading Tropic of Orange by Karen Tei Yamashita, the first thing that I noticed about the book was the way she differentiated between characters’ narrations. From one section to the next, the reader can very easily tell which character’s mind we are in. In part, this is due to the shift in point of view, though Yamashita also makes sure to mark the change in narrator by changing the syntax and diction of each character’s inner thoughts.
Most of all, however, I found the writing of Bobby’s section to be fascinating. The initial transition from Rafaela’s narration to Bobby’s point of view is jarring, as it goes from Rafaela’s fluid, immersive-yet-restrained inner voice to Bobby’s staccato, remote one. His sections talk about Bobby in the third person without making it clear that Bobby himself is narrating. This style of writing, with Bobby’s story told like gossip in a smoke-filled bar, creates a distance between Bobby and the audience. His narration is not personal, but remote, and he relates his own background as if he were nothing more than an outside observer, perhaps reflecting a psychological distance between how he views himself and how the world views him. His style of writing mixes first person and third person conventions, with most of his dialogue sounding very much like a first person narrator. For instance, his very first paragraph is choppy stream of consciousness, putting us right in the action with lines like “Attacks the jacker. Pushes him up to the wall of Sanitary and beats the shit out” (Yamashita 14). However, any time his name is mentioned, Bobby seems to be another character, upon whom the narrator is reflecting. In addition, his sentences are short and matter of fact, leaving the audience to fill in the gaps and understand the emotions behind the clipped language.
Books that utilize multiple narrators frequently fall flat for me, as the author often neglects to personalize the characters’ viewpoints. Every character’s mind sounds the same, with only chapter headings to differentiate between which character we are supposed to be following. Yamashita avoids this on many levels, using point of view switches and changes in language and syntax to individualize each character. I am very much enjoying seeing the world through truly different perspectives, and look forward to seeing how she employs it later in the book.
As a fiction writer, I really enjoy this post about the importance and use of multiple points of view. It can be extremely difficult, with so many different characters in gender and age, for each one to sound unique and I think the author does a great job at making each narration specific to that character. I also think that the different uses of third and first person help the narration even more. I agree that sometimes authors fall short with such a hefty project, but this book obviously does not. I do have to argue with you on one point though; although I too liked hearing about Bobby’s story, I was under the impression that his chapter was actually being narrated by someone else who had seen everything that happened, and then by the end of the chapter moved into his point of view. I think if any chapter had problems connecting with readers it would be that one, despite how interesting it was, because of how confusing it was to read. Still, the author does great with so many different voices, and on that we both agree.
I had similar thoughts as I read the first few chapters of the book. It took me a moment or two to adjust to such a dramatic change in POV, but I think the frequent switch will be ultimately super beneficial to the development of these characters. I feel like we get a better picture of these people themselves through the way their chapters are narrated, almost like a glimpse inside their heads. I like what you said about “Rafaela’s fluid, immersive-yet-restrained inner voice” in comparison to the static, gossipy, almost stream-of-conciousness account of Bobby. Rafaela’s account is deeply thoughtful, and we become aware of how intelligent, perceptive, and almost cautious she is. There is such a stark polarization between those characteristics and the “staccato,” impulsive, perpetually grinding impression we get of Bobby early on. The difference is so palpable that they seem to exist in completely separate realms. Perhaps this helps us to understand why their marriage didn’t work in the first place…?