Passing-Thought

BrothersK - the role of the narrator (Books 1 & 2)

My impression is that in Book One, the narrator has a very prominent and distinct personality shown through his account of the history of the Karamazov family. The character of the narrator is a human observer to the events surrounding the family, firmly situated from the perspective of one who has lived in the same town, though I don't remember if he ever discloses being personally related to anyone. He admits having limited knowledge of the story that he describes, at least a historical fact. For instance, "Why Ivan Fyodorovitch had come amongst us I remember asking myself at the the time with a certain uneasiness" (I, chapter 3). The impression is that the narrator maintains a dominantly human personality. He does most of the talking and describing of things, bringing in direct quotations to support his opinions of a character in focus. The only dialogue I can remember is in fourth chapter where Fyodor asks Alyosha about whether hell has a ceiling.

In contrast, Book Two, seems to consist almost entirely in dialogue and direct speech, making the events seem more inceptive/progressive (alive) and less aoristic/historical (artifact). As a result, the personality of the narrator seems relatively withdrawn, allowing him to take more of an omnipresent and omniscient role, describing even the hidden thoughts, intentions, and feelings of characters as the events unfold, especially in the case of Miusov. "Now, I know myself, I am annoyed, I shall lose my temper and begin to quarrel--and lower myself and my ideas," he reflected. (II, Chapter 1) And again, "As he uttered the last word of his tirade, Miusov completely recovered his self-complacency, and all traces of his former irritation disappeared. He fully and sincerely loved humanity again (II, Chapter 8)."

I wonder if this inverse role between the personality of narrator and the personality of the characters known through dialogue is a common narrative phenomenon in fiction literature. Is it simply something that naturally arises from the nature of the genre, a reflex that writers must put extra effort to control if they want to consisently maintain the personality of the narrators voice? In any case, I think Dostoevsky's interplay between narrator's voice and the full and immediate voice given to those being narrative only heightens the intriguing psychological complexity and suspense of the drama. [I also can't help wonder if there is something in this relationship that is being utilized as a rhetorical strategy by the Divine author of Scripture in his employment of human authors. (Not to mention the present station of Christ in heaven applying the living perfections resulting from his personal presence on earth.)]

Reading Book One and Two as a rhetorical unit in light of this shift, almost gives the impression that the eyes and ears of the narrator are located within the domain of the monastery itself, since that is the setting of Book Two, where the action first comes "alive". The narrator's place of permanent residency, his "home", as far as we can tell at this point in the story, is the monastery. And so the historical perspective of Book One is told from the perspective of one who firstly identifies with this local monastlc order. I wonder if Dostoevsky will develop the character of the narrator through the rest of the book?