Trusting in the Narrator-Clara Wieland.

Narrator Bias in Wieland

Wieland, by its very nature, is a text for which many questions are left unanswered or, at the very least, vaguely explained to the reader. Generally, one must rely on the preponderance of the evidence in attempting to come to terms with that which the text leaves open-ended in interpretation. The line between dream and reality, voice of one’s own mind or some external entity, and even varying perspectives are often quite blurred by intention of the author. Yet above all, the reader must note that Charles Brockton Brown chose to set the entire account of Wieland in the voice of single narrator, Clara Wieland, whom arguably had one of the largest roles to play in the manner in which the story played out. It stands to reason then, that the same individual who personally suffered the loss of her brother and his entire family, as well as arguably her sanity, is not the best unbiased source in explaining how the role of an outsider affected her family. Namely, her ultimate conviction is that Carwin was responsible for the death of her brother and her personal misery.

          Throughout Clara’s testimony, she is frequently overcome with emotional outbursts and requests to stop the telling of the story. Her mental health is clearly compromised, and the telling of the very events that affected it in the first place seems highly unwise. It seems unlikely that, as she builds to a conclusion of such unhappiness for herself, she should tell the story through the lens of the way in which she actually felt while it was occurring. It would be nearly impossible to remove one’s self from that much heartbreak and portray accurately an earlier, unbiased version of herself. She begins the tale quite against the notion of telling it at all, yet, why should she continue? Clara claims “…every remnant of good was wrestled from our grasp and exterminated” (Brown 12). It does not sound as if she wanted to go to this dark place in her mind ever again.

Thus, from the very first mention of Carwin, we might only assume that the description of his actions to be not as portrayed. He might not necessarily have been an innocent party to the events that so deeply ruined the Wielands; however, the only account of him that we have is from someone who claims this individual constantly spied on her, put voices in her head, and attempted to rape her. To say that she would not have some sort of grudge or ill will against Carwin after all of the events that occurred is far-fetched. Add in the fact that his antics may have, in some way, led to her brother’s murderous ways and suicide and the trend only strengthens. This is the kind of emotion that incites one to lash out in vindictive ways, not to mention leading to a debilitating mental state of being. The reader already knows the latter is true. Would not portraying this individual in an incriminatory manor not fulfill the former?

While somewhat difficult to find a singular “smoking-gun” to the narrator’s bias against Carwin, the following line is as pointed evidence as any to that affect: “His [Carwin’s] guilt was to the point that I was indifferent…thenceforth he was nothing to me” (Brown 215). Clara finally states flat out that this is a person for whom she has complete distrust, and finds absolutely guilty for at the least her brother’s death, if not the remainder of his family. This beyond a shadow of a doubt calls in to question her portrayal of Carwin in the text, a work that was written entirely in the aftermath of the aforementioned statement.