Shaking up perspective in life writing

Had anyone else assumed that all memoirs were written from the author’s perspective? Just me? Before reading and studying life writing, it never would have occurred to me that memoirs might be written from any other stand point than the person whose life was on the page. And I think that’s a reasonable assumption to make – it’s their life story to tell, after all. But why does first person work so well and what happens when you change perspective? Let’s find out.

In this month’s tech blog we’re looking at:

• Why first person narratives dominate the memoir shelves
• What a third person perspective can bring
• An example of first and third person in one beautiful retelling

First person narrative – the firm favourite for good reason

There is good reason for the majority of memoirs being told from the author’s perspective. It’s an obvious choice – it’s your story, so your voice, right? But why is it a go-to perspective? Why does it work so well?

I think it’s down to the level of intimacy you invite in when you share your story in your voice. The fears, darkest moments, regrets, laughs, loves, losses, the ‘hell, yes!’ revelations. These snapshots of a technicolour life are all the more vivid and evocative if shaped and coloured by the deepest feelings and honest opinions of the person remembering them. It gives a fly-on-the-wall quality to the storytelling that’s irresistible.

And then there’s the voice itself. When you write in first person, it’s all you. You can throw all of yourself onto the page for the reader to soak up. Your voice, your choice. Let your personality be free to stretch and flex to match the mood of the events you’re retelling. You can reveal any aspect of yourself through your humour, word choice, tone.

Third person perspective – let them show you

Telling your life story, or tasty titbits thereof, is by its very nature a very personal thing. You want the reader to jump into your shoes and walk the life you’ve lived through your eyes for that fully immersive experience, right? All the guts and gears of your internal workings as you feel your way through the big moments.

Or do you?

Have you considered what would happen if, instead, you invite them to walk alongside you? To be an observer of your old self as you go about your every day, as you reach the milestones, as your life unfolds. How would your life story be written as if by a third party? How might the landscape of your memories change if you considered each moment as an outsider looking on?

This is what a third person narrative can bring to a memoir – a fresh take on a well-worn image or tale. Flipping the perspective can help you see your own life story with new eyes. It’s still your words, your memories, but you’re seeing yourself from the outside. 

A shining example of mix and match

British naturalist and TV favourite Chris Packham wrote his memoir, Fingers in the Sparkle Jar, to give us an insight into his love of and connection to nature, especially the friendship he cultivated with a kestrel he stole from its nest when he was a young boy. It is, according to bestselling author Matt Haig, “Bold and beautiful, raw and lyrical.” 

Lyrical. Wow. And it really is. So what makes it sing? Chris has a very elaborate, descriptive writing style and loves to paint a full picture, guiding your attention to the minutiae of a scene. He also mixes the perspective to match up with particular times/events in his past.

He was a boy who felt deeply. Who fell deeply in love with the natural world. Who didn’t fit in. Who loved being alone. In woodland. In streams. In otters’ holts. A story of a boy who preferred the company of his wild bird egg collection and fire flies than his disinterested classmates. 

The story comes to life not only through Chris’s eyes in first person:

“…they flailed featherless wings and hobbled on fresh custard-yellow legs… . I gasped – they flinched, they scowled – I smiled, and gently backed down. They were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen and one of them would be mine. I was possessed.”

But also in third person, through the eyes of those who dipped in and out of his childhood: the neighbour, the ice-cream man, the librarian, the pet shop owner:

“Down the road in the next garden, something … it was the boy, Christopher, moving around in the shadows of the trees. Ken thought he could hear the tinkle of bells. He tapped the hammer and whispered, ‘thanks’. He owed that kid. Without him, the whole bloody house would have gone up.”

And then there’s the conversation his adult self has with his therapist, as he works through his depression and late diagnosed autism. It’s a really clever use of reported/direct speech to snap the reader back to the present (ish), signalled by a switch-up of perspective and voice:

“He appeared a little brighter this week, he was speaking more impulsively, he seemed bolder but was still not looking at her. ‘I did talk to my parents. I know they thought my obsessions were boring but at least they didn’t tell me to shut up.’”

What will you do?

Do you see, just from those three short extracts, how changing perspective and voice can really light up your memoir, giving your reader a chance to see your life story through several lenses? 

If you’re considering writing your memoir, why not take a moment to think about which perspective best suits your story or each chapter? Is it time to blaze your own trail and mix things up a little?

For more nonfiction writing and wellbeing tips, check out our other blogs. And sign up to our bi-monthly newsletter to get writing inspiration straight to your inbox.