Narrative (2nd edition) by Paul Cobley is a bit of a different beast for me — because, at the end of the day, it is a textbook. This is one of the titles recommended by BookTuber Benjamin McEvoy in his “How to Get an Oxford English Education for Free” video, specifically the first book he listed in the English Literature Criticism category. And reading it, you can absolutely tell: this is a book designed to be paired with lectures, discussion, and a professor guiding you through the denser bits.

The subject matter itself is fascinating. Cobley starts by defining narrative in contrast to “story” and “plot,” then dives deep into the history of narrative from Gilgamesh through the Greeks, especially Homer. He draws distinctions between early narrative traditions — such as Hellenic vs. Hebraic modes of storytelling — which I found interesting, even if I occasionally felt like I needed to be taking notes for an exam.

One of the most engaging sections for me was the chapter on the rise (and rise) of the novel. Since novels are my main interest as a reader — not so much writing narrative theory — this was right in my wheelhouse. Cobley walks through examples of novels throughout history, eventually spending an entire chapter analyzing Eliot’s Middlemarch. I haven’t read it, but he explained the scenes well enough that I didn’t feel completely lost. His section on Conrad’s Heart of Darkness was easier to follow since I have read that one, though it eventually spiraled into commentary on the film Apocalypse Now, which I haven’t seen.

After that, Cobley transitions heavily into narrative in cinema. In hindsight, this shouldn’t have surprised me — he opens the book by saying narrative exists everywhere in human life, not just literature. Still, I was expecting more of a literature-focused study, so the shift into film analysis was a mixed experience for me: helpful, yes, but not exactly what I came for.

The biggest hurdle, though, was the overly formal, hyper-academic tone. “Technical” isn’t exactly the right word — it’s more clinical, laboratory-sterile English. For example, he’ll say “a social media website known as Facebook” instead of just “Facebook,” or refer to TV and movies as “audio-visual narrative.” These aren’t wrong, just… odd. It gave parts of the book a pedantic flavor that occasionally took me out of the material. I don’t mind academic writing — I expected it — but some of the phrasing felt unnecessarily stiff, like he’s writing for an audience that somehow doesn’t know what Facebook is.

All of that said, I did enjoy learning more about how narrative functions, evolves, and embeds itself into everyday life. As someone working to grow as a literature critic, I got value from it. But I also found myself repeatedly thinking: This would be so much more fulfilling with a professor guiding interpretive discussions. That’s probably the point — this isn’t mainstream nonfiction. It’s a course text.

In the end, I gave Narrative 3.5 out of 5 stars, rounded down to 3 on Goodreads. It’s interesting, it’s dense, it’s occasionally frustrating, and it’s not written for casual readers. But if — like me — you’re determined to follow Benjamin McEvoy’s pseudo-Oxford curriculum (or if you simply want to challenge yourself with narrative theory), this might be worth your time. Otherwise, there are plenty of more accessible books out there for those of us not actually pursuing an Oxford degree.

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