Narrative Analysis: POVs

Essay Two:  Narrative Analysis
Sacred Clowns:  The Utilization of Multiple Point of Views
Set in the Navajo reservation in the states Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, Tony Hiller-man's detective novel Sacred Clowns offers a thrilling tale of multiple murders as well as a small cultural lesson.  Centered around the murder of a kachina clown, a teacher, a fatal hit-and-run case, and a missing boy, the story involves Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Officer Jim Chee.  If only Chee were to be investigating both of these crimes, the story would have become slow and meticulous, while this way we have more characters to focus on and more threads to connect.  In the end, a more interesting story that we as readers have connections to.  Throughout the story the point of view switches between these two men – at some points it may seem, as Lisa Zun-shine said, too "cognitively expensive" (Flatt, sld 8).  However, Hillerman does a good job of summing up what has happened through informational reports – often from Chee to Leaphorn – that eases some of these expenses.  The use of two point of views challenges readers; we are giv-en a more complicated story that, in the end, is more desirable.  Our minds may be a bit ex-hausted from keeping facts, names, and stories straight, but we feel a bit more achieved by con-necting the dots ourselves and with the investigators of the story.
Wayne C. Booth poses a thoughtful question:  "How does the style of narrator chosen af-fect the reading of the text?" (Flatt sld 3).  Hillerman could have very well chosen to use just Chee or just Leaphorn to illustrate the novel but it wouldn't have had the same affect.  But by using both of these men, the author is able to show twice the amount of the story that would be revealed if he had only included one of these views.  Chee is used to solve the hit-and-run mur-der case plus to portray many Navajo customs and history pieces.  Authors Gina MacDonald and Andrew MacDonald creates three classifications for cultural writers today – enthusiasts, interpre-ters, and sociologists (63-64).  Where does Hillerman fit into this?  The authors describe a soci-ologist as being neutral, whose purpose is to exhibit the culture they are writing about – here it is the Navajos, the Cheyenne, the Hopi – an abundance of culture shown as it would be if we as readers had simply stepped into their world.  
Hillerman created Chee to be a Navajo traditionalist in order to show us this; we see de-scriptions of the beautiful and vast lands he calls home as well as mesmerizing passages about the opening kachina dance that only a true Navajo-appreciator could show us.  Such as when Chee leaves to talk to Hosteen Nakai on pages 160:  ". . . as his truck jolted higher into the summer pastures of the Chuskas, and ponderosa pine replaced juniper and piñon, and the air was colder in his nostrils and brought the old high-country smells back to him . . . ."  Or on the first and second pages:  "And out over the flat crowded roofs of the Tan Pueblo, he could rest his eyes on the ragged row of cottonwoods along the river, golden today with autumn, or upon the blue mountains blocking the horizon, or the green-tan-silver patchwork of farm fields the Tanoans irrigated."  Chee is really breathing in his surroundings and is considerate in how he relays what he sees in the nature.  The author also uses a transpiring romance between he and Janet Pete to weave in information.  Because her father's lineage had not been determined, Chee had reserva-tions for starting a relationship because it was taboo to do so with a common tribe member.  This situation leads to a lot of passages where Chee explains certain Navajo customs (pages 160 to 166 especially).
Leaphorn, a more traditional policeman, focuses on the Davis and Dorsey homicides and the mystery of the Lincoln cane.  Here we are taught Hopi culture as well as Navajo.  Just as Chee's story has romance, so does Leaphorn.  Throughout the story he has flashbacks to memo-ries of his deceased wife, Emma.  On top of that he is also coming to terms with cementing his feelings of Louisa, the woman he is traveling to China with.  This relationship is less prominent than Chee's in the novel.  I believe it is because it showcases the maturity level of the two men and their place in life; Chee is younger and wilder while Leaphorn is older, wiser, and has a few more situations under his belt.  
Through Chee and Leaphorn we are also given a better understanding of each character through the other's eyes – Leaphorn paints a different picture of Chee than I would have thought of him myself.  Leaphorn points out that Chee is a young man who thinks he is a little bit more than what he really is, but still believes he is on his way to becoming a good tribal cop.  On page 202 Hillerman says through Leaphorn that:  "he [Chee] was young . . . and he had a tendency to do things his own way.  But he was smart.  And in his job, being smart was something you needed to be a lot."  Leaphorn recognizes that Chee does have what it takes to be a tribal cop, yet he still has a few things to learn. Chee is young and ambitious, still trying to grab onto somewhat inflated dreams, while Leaphorn is more grounded and has endured some of life's tragedies.  While Chee doesn't take a lot of time to analyze Leaphorn, he does slip in a few remarks that points towards his character.  Through these he illustrates that Leaphorn is an older, with-the-books man who takes his job seriously.  For instance, when Chee sits down to write Leaphorn a memo, he remarks that "he had worked for the lieutenant long enough now to make it a long one." (111)  He knows that Leaphorn wants a detailed account of what had happened.  Another would be when he observes the lieutenant's workspace:  "Neat, tidy, the desk top clear.  No sign of dust.  Dust wouldn't dare." (114)  Leaphorn is clean, tidy, and organized – what most would picture a prime police lieutenant to be.
To conclude, I want to touch again on Zunshine's points on detective fiction and how it weighs on our memory.  Throughout Sacred Clowns we really aren't taught to challenge the things that our narrators are telling us – which is a lot of what Zunshine speaks about through cognitive expense.  We don't close the novel going "wow – the narrator really held back on some crucial evidence."  However, Zunshine's theories could be applied to the narrator switch throughout the novel.  Like mentioned before, there are dozens of loose threads during the story.  Coupled with the fact that we are often switching narrators and motive drives, our minds are working overtime.  But Hillerman has adapted to this and has actually used the multiple narrators in his favor – by recapping events and proving Zunshine's statement that good detective writers must recognize our cognitive limits (Flatt sld 8).  Chee writes a handful of memos and police re-ports for Leaphorn that chronicle what he discovered, and Hillerman, instead of saying some-thing like "and Chee handed over the report and left", retells the information to us on the page, letting us sink it in again and getting straight the facts that we may have muddled.  Hillerman also does this when Leaphorn confides in Louisa (chapter seven).  Throughout the series he de-veloped interesting characters and plot lines.  Hillerman is able to keep strings attached and loose to attract an audience and knows when to connect them.  By using Chee and Leaphorn separately and as a whole, Hillerman has proved himself as a timeless and effective detective fiction writer.