The Bigness of The World, The Loss and Detachment of Childhood:
a study of the first-person point of view
Having a storyteller is a vital element for any story: a narrative voice, real or implied, that presents the story to the reader. When we talk about narrative voice we are talking about point of view. So important it is that it shapes and colors the way in which everything else is presented and perceived, including the plot, character and setting. In some sense, a narrative is a form of communication. Acc/ording to G. Genette, every text discloses traces of narration; all narrative is necessarily telling and showing by making the story real and alive.
Unlike the omniscient point of view, the use of first-point of view is, somehow restricted on the voice that tells the story. It involves the author’s decision to limit his omniscience to what can be known by a single character. In Lori Ostlund’s The Bigness of The World, the author uses a first-person point of view featuring an experiencing narrative voice that is “I” narrating what she is experiencing as a twelve years old girl. Thus, it serves as a tool for a better understanding of the growth and inner transformation of the protagonist.
The story begins through the lens of a child’s observation. In the first paragraph, “We” considered ourselves as adults meanwhile still relied on Ilsa, that one-of-a-kind babysitter’s attendance; mom’s job as vice president at the bank just seems nebulous and dull. When depicting our daily life with Ilsa, especially her hyperfocus on acronyms and mania for good grammar, the narration was definitely intriguing and humorous. So innocent and childish was the protagonist’s tongue that we can see, from this kind of description, a barrier between the narrator and true maturity. And, this first-point narrative, too, helps readers gain a glimpse into the protagonist’s inner world, bringing a focus on the character’s mentality and psychology.
Along with the story develops, this barrier, somehow detrimental, also lies between children and parents. “I believe he wanted to understand us, for example, how we viewed the world, but this required patience, something that our father lacked, for he did not have enough time at his disposal to be patient, to stand there and puzzle out what it was about his business card that we did not understand.” This line immediately hints us what we might be digging into: a problematic relationship with a parent. For dad, work was something more important than getting to know our perspective. Here, first point of view directly shows a lack of understanding and emotional connection between the loved ones, also the two disparate worlds of child and adult.
In our eyes, my mother, a stern and cold character in the story, seemed like a workaholic and lived a rigid life. “My mother was always very clear in her opinions; she said that in banking one had to be, that she needed to be able to size people up quickly and carry through on her assessment without hesitation or regret, a policy that she applied at home as well.” Again, in those narration we scarcely see any trace of intimacy. It’s the kind of tone you’d use on a stranger: business-like and curt, by using words like “assessment” and “policy”. Through first -person point of view, Ostlund enables us to step back from everyday life’s banalities and view from a child’s eye how we are estranged from loved ones, thus reinforcing the theme. These adult characters in the story seemed to preserve the veneer of social calm while letting slow detachment simmer below the surface.
Then comes the first loss of Martin and “me” that is Ilsa’s leaving. She used father’s toothbrush and got fired while “I” thought “It was my fault that things with Ilsa came to an end.” Here, adults assessed emotional intimacy through the lens of toothbrush. Toothbrush represented an overwhelming intimacy which, however, didn’t make sense to “me”. From first-person point of view, the story had a muted but bleak outlook on the child’s view of the world and their vague opinion about intimate relationship.
Another interesting detail lies in their visit to Ilsa’s house. There, “we” found Ilsa’s kitchen quite tiny, unlike our imagined “perfect size”. The two felt a sudden disappointment and soon had to face the fact that not everything was perfect and not everyone could maintain a middle-class life as their family did. And by that, they began to be aware of the world. The huge gap between different classes did exist. And they saw it, felt it, and from first point of view, uttered it by themselves. That’s the society they lived in, brutal but real.
In the story, the narrator was literally looking back on the event happened when she was eleven going on twelve from first-point of view. Thus, when we have a close-up view of her word choice, her syntax, there’s a sort of wistfulness in it. But the author also tried to retain a certain naivete that she was just figuring out the world and too was quite award of the world, especially when mom got arrested. Those sudden changes and losses seemed wired to her.
“In those days, Martin’s hands were unusually plump, at odds with the rest of his body, and from where I sat, directly across from my father, Martin’s hand looked like a fat, white bullfrog perched on my father’s shoulder.” The author was somehow tricky. She didn’t have her saying: “Here I am as an adult with all these years in between and I’ve analyzed it and thought about it.” Instead, she revealed a feeling of detachment, an unsettling state of mind.
“We had no inkling of what lay ahead, no way of knowing that the familiar terrain of our childhoods would soon become a vast, unmarked landscape in which we would be left to wander, motherless and, it seemed to us at times, fatherless as well.”
Is life always easy and happy? Time and again the narrator answered it in the negative. Childhood died out in a blink of eye. No matter how hard we tried, separation still creep up and settled in our lives. Through all these losses, we finally woke up from illusion of the carefree childhood and walked out and found out only the bigness of the world might be our only consolation, as the monologue revealed.
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an essay for my English class...