At first, Rollo
Martins’ suspicions of foul play in Harry Lime’s death might seem far-fetched
and ill-founded. He initially comes to
his conclusion after a few drinks with Calloway, based solely on a biased view
of policemen: “You are running true to form, aren’t you?…[Y]ou couldn’t pin it
on anyone, so you’ve picked a dead man.
That’s just like a policeman” (316).
In addition, Kurtz’s toupee immediately leads him not to trust Kurtz,
simply because “[t]here must be
something phoney about a man who won’t accept baldness gracefully” (322). However, evidence suggests early on that
Martins may be on to something. Kurtz’s
and Anna Schmidt’s accounts of dying wishes do not align with Koch’s story of
an instantaneous death. And when Martins
goes back to question Koch about the incident, the revelation of the presence
of a third man confirms that something was covered up.
Graham Greene’s
use of frame narrative throws another layer of uncertainty onto the narrators
themselves. Greene calls attention to
this near the beginning of the novel: “I have reconstructed the affair as best
as I can.…It is as accurate as I can make it…though I can’t vouch for Martins’
memory” (308). That little musing at the
end sets up a tension between the two narrators, both of whom already have
their own flaws. Calloway has an
interest in the case as a policeman, and in order to tell the story, he “reconstructed
the chain of events which…prove [him] to be a fool” (318). These details set him as a biased and
perhaps untrustworthy narrator.
Furthermore, the chain of events comes “from Martins a long time afterwards…when
the trail was nearly cold” (318, 322).
Martins can use this amount of time to polish the account given to
Calloway, considering the mistrust that results from their first encounter. Even though frame narrative can be used simply
as a means of storytelling, the reader cannot count out anyone in Greene’s “fallen
world” of crime, destruction, and deceit.
Reading a
detective story always involves playing the game of whodunit, so as we move to
Part VIII and onward, it is fitting (and fun) to ask the question: At this point in the novel, what do you
think really happened to Harry Lime?
With many characters’ reliability in question, no alternative theory can
be too crazy. Greene has set up for a
surprising, exciting conclusion with the opening chapters of The Third Man. I look forward to seeing what surprises lay
ahead as we continue to uncover this mystery.
1 comment:
Vincent makes a great point about how difficult it is for the reader to invest his or her faith in any given party. I think this is intentional on Greene's part. Carol Reed's film frequently utilizes what are known as Dutch angle shots where the camera is tilted off to the side. Such a technique could be a metaphor for Greene's vision of his flawed, morally oblique cast of characters. Many of the scenes are ridden with shadows as well. In this post-war Vienna, the lines between good and evil are not so black and white but are blurred by the complex moralities and goals of the cast. Martins' goal appears noble, painting himself as the harbinger of justice against Calloway and his forces who label Lime as a racketeer. Yet Calloway seems guided by a sense of justice, convinced Lime's criminal activity is highly involved with his "death". Even as Martins and Anna seek to clear Lime's name, the reader gets a sense that Martins is meddling in something beyond his responsibility, indirectly causing Koch's death. Anna also involved herself with Lime in forging a passport. She has thus involved herself in some form in the shady dealings of Harry Lime. What side can the reader invest his sympathies with and who is trustworthy? The reader cannot be sure, but I'm pretty sure Greene intended this to be so as it allows him to comment on the nature of good and evil in the fallen world he sets his tale in.
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