Situating the Narrator in George MacDonald’s "Phantastes"

         One of my favorite things about approaching a text is getting to know its narrator. In Phantastes, Anodos the narrator looks back on his time in Fairy Land and attempts to tell his own story. Part of what makes him so interesting as a narrator is his inability to describe or explain some of his experiences, especially his various (and sometimes annoying) impulses. What are we as readers supposed to do with phenomena that the narrator cannot adequately communicate? Can we fully believe and trust him? How are we supposed to fill these gaps? Even in the very end, Anodos is left with “questions [he] cannot yet answer” (MacDonald 184). Perhaps this makes it easier for the reader to sympathize; if he was able to figure it all out until he knew and understood everything, he might not be nearly as interesting or relatable. Fairy Land certainly wouldn’t be as interesting. It’s not much of a second world if the primary world can make sense of it so easily.
         We again question the narrator when he tells the story of Cosmo. Anodos has a hard enough time telling his own story, so we have to question how he can tell Cosmo’s. This raises an interesting question of accuracy. How do we know if the narrator is “right”? And does it matter? Does the chance that the narrator could be wrong nullify a narrative’s relevance or meaning? I want to say no, but I don’t know how to grapple with the question of accuracy or if that’s even the right questions to ask. I’m interested to see if third-person narrators will make me raise these same questions.
         Through the narrator, MacDonald hits on something quite profound at the end of Cosmo’s story. The narrator says, “And now I will say no more about these wondrous volumes; though I could tell many a tale out of them...” (MacDonald). Notice that he does not finish the story; the story went on, regardless of Anodos’s telling it or our reading it. There is no precise end in the “Web of Story,” only “verbal ending[s]” or “margins” as Tolkien says in “On Fairy-Stories” (Tolkien 398-9). Compare this to the end of the novel. Anodos looks to the future, the continuation of his own narrative, having faith that good will come to him. Then he bids the reader farewell. It’s not his story that has ended but our invitation to witness it. We see from these examples how the narrator limits our knowledge not only because of what he can't tell us, but also because of what he chooses not to tell us.