Topic > The Narrator's Persuasiveness in "Few Men Would Believe This Creature"

Margery Kempe's book is widely considered the first English-language autobiography. Unlike previous texts, in which a supposedly truthful narrator gave voice to the characters' stories, Kempe is the author of her own story. As readers of an age in which autobiography and fiction are long-standing literary forms, we may not find this strange at all. However, this would have posed a problem for readers of the time, who were accustomed to a specific form of literature, if they had indeed been exposed to books. Kempe's voice differs from that of the traditional narrator not only in the basic structure of her work, but also in the fact that readers are directly presented with a less than flattering view of her as a character: she sins, cries excessively, and is widely despised . While an older Kempe may give voice to the story, the portrayal of her younger self as a widely vilified sinner could easily jeopardize her credibility with readers, no matter how much time has passed. Specifically, in the passage where she gives birth to her first child and soon enters a state of hysteria, convinced for six months that she hears demons wanting her to kill herself, one might reasonably question her mental stability and reliability as a narrator . However, his moments of moral redemption described in the text, both after this period of madness and when he first discovers God, could potentially serve as a reason to ignore these other factors to some extent. Suffice it to say, there are many conflicting reasons to trust or distrust Kempe's story. How can we as readers reconcile them and determine the extent to which these factors cast doubt on his account of his life. Furthermore, firstly, is that assessment fair? After all, to what extent does Kempe, reliable or not, actually tell his own story? Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay The dual nature of an autobiographical narrator as both author and subject (or ventriloquist and dummy) may be entirely familiar to modern readers, but Margery Kempe's style indicates at least some degree of anxiety on the part of the author. There may be major differences, both temporal and personal, between Kempe the narrator and Kempe the character, but several stylistic choices actively contribute to further separating the two. The main one is the use of third-person point of view throughout the text. Although intimate knowledge of her previous thoughts and actions makes it clear that Kempe is narrating, she is careful to avoid the first-person statements we expect from today's autobiographies and makes no reference to her narrating self. In this superficial way, the work reads more like a novel with a typical omnipotent narrator. One choice that suggests a separate authorial personality is the consistent reference to Margery Kempe as a “creature,” reflecting a defined and opinionated point of view on the part of the author. While effective in distancing the narrator from his younger self and his youthful indiscretions, this choice also jeopardizes the erasure of the narrator achieved by the book's third-person point of view. Kempe the narrator cannot satisfactorily distance herself from the Kempe character without bringing herself back into the world of the book and into the minds of its readers. This obviously creates a certain tension: we readers don't know whether to accept her as an invisible narrator or as a new self who, almost paradoxically, has given credibility through the recognition of her own madness. TOFurther complicating the question of whether or not Kempe is a reliable narrator is the book's authorship. Rather than being conceptualized and written by her alone, the book is dictated by her and written with the help of three different scribes. The first drafts work in an illegible mix of English and German, the latter has difficulty with the first's handwriting, and the third finds himself unable to read the draft. Even once completed, Kempe's inability to read and write means he cannot edit his story and correct inaccuracies. The result of this complex creative process is a work narrated not necessarily by her alone, but by a composite character. This poses another obstacle in judging the accuracy of the book's account of his life. It's certainly more likely that an account ghostwritten by three other people is flawed to some degree, but how can we determine to what extent? On the other hand, does the addition of more authors remedy the potential fallibility of Kempe's narrative or further distort his story? Furthermore, who should be blamed for any inaccuracies in the text? After all, Kempe may have the ability to pray and have another person write his story, but he does not have the ability to give himself the same power. This suggests limited control of the final product and, by extension, limited liability for any inaccuracies therein. In one passage, “the creature” is about to give birth to her first child with her new husband, but begins to fear for her life during the birth. To secure heaven, she tries to confess immediately after the birth of her son, but the witness stops her before she can reveal "one thing in conscience that she had never shown before at all." his life,” and is too afraid to finish his confession (7). Her entire life, the devil told her that doing penance alone would be enough. However, the creature now doubts this and is so afraid of going to hell because she failed to confess all her sins that she goes mad and spends six months convinced that demons are tormenting her. Sure that all is lost, she slanders her new family, begins to sin again and attempts suicide, tearing and biting her skin. The struggle he experiences in consistently expressing loyalty to God and not demons is reminiscent of Steven Connor's theory of good and evil voices. His example links the “bad voice” to the screaming of a child, and the “good voice” to the voice of a mother, but the theory applies here too. The evil voice/demons turn on her in anger due to her feelings of guilt over not fully confessing her sins. In Kempe's immature and vulnerable state, he is unable to overcome this failure in any other way than through self-destruction. The good voice/God will no longer be able to reach her until six months of torment have passed. In Connor's original conception, the good/bad voice dichotomy is experienced by a screaming child, comforted by a reassuring tone that he cannot yet replicate. Likewise, Kempe finds herself trapped in the “bad voice,” a self-perpetuating cycle of pain and hatred, unable to calm down and forced to wait for God's “good voice” to protect her once again. Although she seems to recover when Jesus tells her, “I have never forsaken you,” we readers are not sure whether the healing is permanent or not (8). If such a rapid descent into madness could once occur, who is to say that Kempe the narrator is still recovered and not suffering from the same madness that afflicted Kempe the character? Besides, who's to say she ever truly recovered? A theme in the work that can lend greater credibility to the narrative voice is that of self-invention or reinvention. Just as there are temporal and personal distinctions between Kempe as?