History Into Fiction

Is there a subject on which authors and writing instructors disagree more than point of view? Some insist that to change POV from one character to another in the same scene is the mark of an amateur. Dissent as I do from this bromide, I’ll nevertheless leave that argument for another time.

If you must get into a secondary character’s head, there are ways to do it without risking a warrant for your arrest by the POV police.

In Game of  Kings, Dorothy Dunnett gave us a splendid example of what I call the “projection” technique. The following passage features a conversation between Tom Erskine and Christian Stewart:

Christian said quickly, “Not afraid: no. My reservations are of another kind. And not any dislike of you: of course not.”

“Then there’s someone else? he said.

It had not occurred to her that he might think that. With an effort, she applied her mind. “Under the circumstances, that’s rather flattering of you. But no—there’s no one else. It’s simply that—”

That what? It was not simple at all. Love was no prerequisite, whatever Agnes Herries might think. He must indeed be wondering why she hesitated; wondering perhaps if she was after bigger game than himself. She had money and her birth was higher than his own. She had no need to be diffident about her handicap, but it was the only excuse she had. So she went on. “It’s just that, my dear, a blind wife is no asset to a future Lord Erskine.”

Dunnett could have chosen to switch from Christian’s POV. Instead, she had Christian wonder if Erskine was thinking what otherwise might have been placed in Erskine’s POV.

This clever technique in effect sets two minds into one head.

Of course, there are limitations to the reach of the projection technique. Christian’s internal estimation of Erskine’s thoughts must by necessity be tentative and uncertain.