I'll steal from my comment on one of the previous posts, because I talked so much about the frame there...
I think one of the crucial things this frame is doing is placing the events of the story "in question". Without the frame, the events are simply happening; we're aware (if we're attuned to it) that the narrator is "coaching" us and t…
I'll steal from my comment on one of the previous posts, because I talked so much about the frame there...
I think one of the crucial things this frame is doing is placing the events of the story "in question". Without the frame, the events are simply happening; we're aware (if we're attuned to it) that the narrator is "coaching" us and that there is a particular point of view here, but the frame has the extra effect of placing not just the events in the story but the point of view itself into question. Because it's not an in-the-moment point of view - it's a reflection, written after the fact. Is this how the narrator *really* felt at the moment the events actually happened? Is he recalling them correctly? Are his reflective thoughts accurate - has he really changed, as he indicates at the end?
I'd argue that because the frame is in place, we can't interpret the narrator's "spin" without taking into account how he feels now, at the time of writing. What struck me is that even though this is presented as a reflection, the narrator isn't really doing a whole lot of reflecting. Though he seems to be trying to accurately represent his emotional reactions, he doesn't view them in a specifically critical light (for example, he says "She must be pretending, which was disgusting", rather than "I felt disgusted"), showing that he still hasn't really questioned himself and his responses. And, of course, "perhaps he had not heard" is also telling - he is reluctant to view himself as the true non-entity in the action of the story (unworthy even of acknowledgment by this remarkably attentive rickshaw man), because he still wants to see himself as the center of the story. In the second to last paragraph, the wind (a large, sweeping, impersonal force, sort of an agent of change and self-transcendence, which is inextricable from the action of the story) dies down and leaves him caught in his own "small" thoughts. Though he is approaching some kind of reflection, is at least made uncomfortable in his usual perspective, he still cannot "answer himself". Everything is still about him. And he does not wonder at all about the fate of the rickshaw man or the woman, which gives the impression that even now, he still doesn't really care.
The fact that the story begins and ends in the same matter-of-fact, removed language provides a contrast with the middle of the story, where the action is. It is almost as if the narrator is no longer himself when he describes the action. This shows how deeply it has affected him, drawing him so dramatically outside of his usual perspective, but also shows how resistant to change he actually is. He reverts right back to the same language at the end (nonspecific, failure to provide details about what impressions it has actually made on him in his daily life), making his reflection seem hollow.
But I don't think it's *completely* hollow - after all, something significant has caused him to question himself, and he is the one telling the story - describing that wind as it whips through, not just the story's action, but his own mind.
I love your insight around framing as a way to make the story not just about the events, but also the POV. This really solidified my understanding of it.
I'll steal from my comment on one of the previous posts, because I talked so much about the frame there...
I think one of the crucial things this frame is doing is placing the events of the story "in question". Without the frame, the events are simply happening; we're aware (if we're attuned to it) that the narrator is "coaching" us and that there is a particular point of view here, but the frame has the extra effect of placing not just the events in the story but the point of view itself into question. Because it's not an in-the-moment point of view - it's a reflection, written after the fact. Is this how the narrator *really* felt at the moment the events actually happened? Is he recalling them correctly? Are his reflective thoughts accurate - has he really changed, as he indicates at the end?
I'd argue that because the frame is in place, we can't interpret the narrator's "spin" without taking into account how he feels now, at the time of writing. What struck me is that even though this is presented as a reflection, the narrator isn't really doing a whole lot of reflecting. Though he seems to be trying to accurately represent his emotional reactions, he doesn't view them in a specifically critical light (for example, he says "She must be pretending, which was disgusting", rather than "I felt disgusted"), showing that he still hasn't really questioned himself and his responses. And, of course, "perhaps he had not heard" is also telling - he is reluctant to view himself as the true non-entity in the action of the story (unworthy even of acknowledgment by this remarkably attentive rickshaw man), because he still wants to see himself as the center of the story. In the second to last paragraph, the wind (a large, sweeping, impersonal force, sort of an agent of change and self-transcendence, which is inextricable from the action of the story) dies down and leaves him caught in his own "small" thoughts. Though he is approaching some kind of reflection, is at least made uncomfortable in his usual perspective, he still cannot "answer himself". Everything is still about him. And he does not wonder at all about the fate of the rickshaw man or the woman, which gives the impression that even now, he still doesn't really care.
The fact that the story begins and ends in the same matter-of-fact, removed language provides a contrast with the middle of the story, where the action is. It is almost as if the narrator is no longer himself when he describes the action. This shows how deeply it has affected him, drawing him so dramatically outside of his usual perspective, but also shows how resistant to change he actually is. He reverts right back to the same language at the end (nonspecific, failure to provide details about what impressions it has actually made on him in his daily life), making his reflection seem hollow.
But I don't think it's *completely* hollow - after all, something significant has caused him to question himself, and he is the one telling the story - describing that wind as it whips through, not just the story's action, but his own mind.
I love your insight around framing as a way to make the story not just about the events, but also the POV. This really solidified my understanding of it.