The answer to this question is short and simple: we know only what the narrative in which they appear tells us about them.<\/p>\n
This is important to emphasise because it restricts and determines the pool of data we can draw upon to form our understanding of a literary character. Unlike with a real person, for instance, we cannot ask a literary character\u00a0why they behave in the way they do, what they think about this and that, and expect a direct answer from them. We can \u2013 and should \u2013 ask these questions\u00a0of<\/em> them, but that is something else entirely.<\/p>\n What we have to do instead is focus exclusively\u00a0on the sole source of our information about a literary character \u2013 the narrative \u2013 and interrogate that source carefully and methodically. We need to do more, that is, than simply accept or repeat\u00a0what<\/em> that narrative says about that character; we need to explore\u00a0how<\/em> it says it. In addition to illuminating the various techniques the narrative might be using to convey a sense of a character to us (through direct statement, presentation of an actual event, focalization through another character, hearsay, innuendo, and so on), this includes reflecting on where the narrative itself might be getting its information from. If it comes from the narrator or another of the characters, for instance, we might well ask if we trust that narrator or character. Just because a narrative presents us with a particular portrait of a character, it does not necessarily mean we have to accept that portrait at face value. Other elements in the narrative may actively work to undermine the particular view of a character it might on the surface appear to wish to present.<\/p>\n