Adam Johnson’s masterful writing in his latest collection of stories reveal some very interesting twists. One in particular, “George Orwell Was a Friend of Mine,” uses the unreliable narrator as a way of exhibiting a psycho-social disconnect between generations in East Germany.
I think it’s interesting how we find great storytellers. In the fall of 2016, I went back to Louisville for another residency with my MFA program, only I was no longer a student. As a residency assistant, I didn’t think to ask ahead of time what the book in common was (program required reading). I found out when I arrived that it was Adam Johnson’s Orphan Master’s Son, a Pulitzer winner in 2013. I had never heard of him, but that’s not a surprise. There are so many great authors out there that I am still trying to read, popular or not. During this residency, Mr. Johnson spoke to a packed crowd of literati from several writing programs. It took place in a converted, old warehouse, more cave-like with few windows and blacked out doors, located west of downtown near the Ohio River. Very edgy place for an author’s reading, which usually take place in book stores, auditoriums and galleries. He stood in the middle of a stage overlooking rows of listeners and read “Nirvana” from start to finish, then answered several poignant questions from the crowd about writing and theory. I was awestruck by his intellect and approachable demeanor.
After the reading, I purchased his latest book, a collection of short stories called Fortune Smiles, containing the story he had read to us and five others. I also borrowed “Orphan Master’s Son” from a friend, consequently reading it before I started on the collection. Brilliant in so many ways, I was hooked. It’s not an easy read. Nor are many of the choices on the Pulitzer list. But, it does help to read the transcripts from interviews and essays littered about on the internet to get a better understanding of the complexity and where the mind of the author wants to take you. Fortune Smiles is much easier to wrap your head around, wonderfully written with poignant humor and socially significant themes.
While reading “Nirvana” I was taken back to his excellent reading. As fun to hear as much as it was read, Johnson is deft with creating interesting juxtapositions of character, objects and situation. When I made it to “George Orwell was a Friend of Mine,” I had to think about the title, having read several of Orwell’s works, and wonder about the connection to this story. The story had me right away. Johnson’s ability to pull the reader into his work was mesmerizing. Best of all, I saw the intention of an unreliable narrator building as each page passed.
The story comes to us through the narrator, a former prison warden during the communist controlled era in East Germany. The prison was used by the secret police to interrogate political dissidents and torture them. Now retired and the prison an atrocity museum, the warden simply lives in the shadow of where he used to work. The story really is simple, at first, because the warden tells us in a matter-of-fact way what he does, and why he does it. He walks his dog. He sees some old coworkers and has watched the changes taking place after the fall of the Soviet Union. All of it seems so perfunctory for Hans, the Warden. But, there’s a slow buildup of the psychological structure to this man.
The unreliable narrator’s perception of events are often askew, not aligned with current mores. The reader, however, discerns between what is right and how messed up the narrator is, because they are given textual clues. The first of many alarming clues begins when Hans carries his wife to bed, after she passed out from having had too much to drink. “That’s why, when her faint snoring came, I’d open her robe and slowly, tenderly begin making love to her.” (145). That’s not love. That’s rape. His sense of morality is obviously messed up. Through this technique, the reader can be drawn into the story even more, because they have invested their opinion and beliefs.
Another scene early in the story places Hans in direct confrontation with a group of people, comprised mostly teens and their tour guide from the atrocities museum, venerating a significant commemoration, a tree for a famous GDR playwright. Hans showed no regard for the memorial and let his dog to shit at the base of the tree while the guide gave a description of the memorial. He was never sympathetic toward the playwright. And, he didn’t like what the guide said, so he started to interject with his own opinion of the man; “Herr Wexler was a pervert and a drug addict who embezzled money…” The tour guide asks, “If Klaus Wexler’s crime was embezzlement, why did he not go through the criminal courts? Why did the Stasi bring him here, to a secret interrogation prison?” The scene continues with Hans explaining in great detail the reasons for the prison, the solitary confinement, and torture chambers, the reason to force confessions out of political dissidents for the good of the state. He speaks with pride in the work the Stasi did, because they were protecting the state.
It’s from these early scenes that we see Hans and his misguided beliefs—his complete ignorance of the horrific events that occurred underneath his nose—his inability to understand the machine he was a part of. It only gets better, but I won’t spoil it for you. The story progresses with more about Hans’ twisted, almost brainwashed view of the world, still holding onto this belief to the very end. He gives us the details to why he thought that way, but never comes to realize, even at the very end, that it was wrong. In a way, if he had confessed during his own torture, he would have been guilty of a crime, but he never does confess and we are left to wonder what will happen as the water chamber continues to fill up.
This type of character, as a narrator, allows us to think about how authority figures can be myopic and dangerous. Plus, we gain insight into ourselves through how we react to each step in the story. What does it say about the reader when they fail to react to criminal events? Using the unreliable narrator is an excellent tool for all writers if they want to capture the reader’s emotional investment, but to get there the writer needs to think like someone who is diametrically opposed to their own moral fiber, which is not easy to do.
Michael Leo Premo 
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