NARRATION IN JAZZ, BY TONI MORRISON
Word count: 895
Though the form of a novel is conventionally expected to contain content that is told through a singular form of perspective, Toni Morrison defies expectation and convention in her manipulation of narration. Within the scope of the first section of Toni Morrison’s Jazz, Morrison fluidly transitions between first person and third person narration. Morrison’s fluid use of differing modes of narration, as she rapidly cycles between first and third person, constructs a narrator that embodies both the familiarity of an onlooking neighbor and the intimacy of an omniscient observer.
In the opening to the first section of Jazz, the narration immediately begins in ambiguity as Morrison blurs the lines between the first person account of the narrator and a distanced third person narrator. Morrison’s ambiguity immediately draws the reader's attention to two different aspects of narration, resisting categorization from the earliest moment of the novel. In the opening line of Jazz, Morrison writes: “Sth, I know that woman. She used to live with a flock of birds on Lennox Avenue. Know her husband, too”(3). With these opening words, Morrison establishes the novel on a basis of ambiguity in who, or to where, the reader should look to in following the story line. Though the story begins in first person, the contents depict a distance between the narrator and what is being described, making it ambiguous as to whether the focus is on the narrator or the story being told. Morrison does not back down from her avoidance of classifications as the novel progresses, creating a characterization of the narrator that exists outside of the story that is being told.
Morrison’s intermittent use of a first person narrator goes as far as to delve into characterizing the narrator, characterizing the lens through which the reader receives the narrator’s third person recollection of events. Morrison diverges from the notion that distance in narration aligns with objectivity through the moments in which the narrator interjects extensively in first person. For example, Toni Morrison writes, “I lived a long time, maybe too, in my own mind. People say I should come out more. Mix. I agree that I close off in places, but if you have been left standing, as I have, while your partner overstays at another appointment, or promises to give you exclusive attention after supper, but is falling asleep just as you have begun to speak- well it can make you inhospitable if you aren't careful, the last thing I want to be”(9). The characterization of the narrator suggests that what we receive in what appears to be third person is a biased take on Violet’s story, which points to the narrator as having a view of the story that is skewed by personal experience as it comes to manifest in seemingly omniscient portions of the first section.
Though the narrator is characterized in first person, the third person recollection of events transitions into what appears to be a borderline omniscient level of knowledge of the events that have come to pass. For example, Morrison writes, “Washing his handkerchiefs and putting food on the table was the most she could manage. A poison silence floated through the rooms like a fishnet that Violet alone slashed through with violent recriminations”(5). Such descriptions lead the reader into detailed descriptions that stray away from the initial first person and limited third person perspective, leaning instead towards a narration that appears to be much more objective in nature. These moments of intimate omniscient knowledge are ended bluntly, before diverting to the narrator's own speculation riddled with ‘Maybes’. As the narration fluidly transitions from first person to third person perspectives, the third person account that appears to be omniscient in nature become confounded by limitations in the third person perspective. As the narrator reflects upon Violet’s actions, Morrison writes, “Maybe she thought she could solve the mystery of love that way. Good luck and let me know”(5). Though the narrator is distanced from the content that is being described in the use of third person narration, the narrator indicates a limitation in knowledge in her use of qualifiers. The narrator not only indicates limitations in their knowledge of events, but accompanies this with their personal regards towards the speculated events. Therefore, in this moment of the first section of Jazz, the narration blurs the line between what it is that Violet felt about love and what the distanced narrator feels about Violet’s quest for love. The attitude of the narrator, though indirect, places the depiction of Violet’s quest to define love, which is described on uncertain terms to begin with, in a space of naivety from the point of view of the narrator. The narrator takes a sympathetic stance towards Violet’s actions that is fitting with the narrator's own experiences with love that surface earlier in the first section of the novel.
The culmination of the narrator’s ability to present seemingly omniscient detail, while also maintaining their own characterization and biases, constructs a narrator that is able to embody both the position of a third party observer and a first-hand participant. Morrison exceedingly breaks beyond the boundaries of linear narration in the first section of the novel as she leaves the reader in hanging on the tail end of her transitions in perspective that are both abrupt and fluid. As Morrison details in her foreword to the novel that the work itself was styled to be a linguistic manifestation of the characteristics of Jazz, the narrator of Jazz resists categorization and flows with a music-like disregard for convention.