Volume 8, Issue 2

One argument for fictional realism, the view that there are such things as fictional characters, proceeds by arguing that we need to accept there are fictional characters in order to provide an adequate account of intuitively true and meaningful reports containing fictional names, reports such as »In Hamlet , Hamlet equivocates«. For, granted some plausible assumptions, it seems that the truth and meaningfulness of such reports requires that the names they contain genuinely refer to fictional characters. However I argue that the fictional realist herself faces problems providing an account of certain other forms of intuitively true reports. These are reports that intuitively seem to be about fictional characters but where the apparent reference to the fictional character is achieved, not via a fictional name, but rather descriptively. I consider, in particular, reports involving specific uses of indefinite descriptions, such as the report »In Hamlet , a certain prince equivocates«. The problem facing the realist is that the truth of this report requires the indefinite description »a certain prince« to denote the fictional character Hamlet. And this, in turn, seems to require that the fictional character Hamlet satisfies that description, and hence that the fictional character Hamlet genuinely be a prince. However I argue against the view that fictional characters genuinely have the properties ascribed to them in the fictions where they occur. In the play Hamlet , Hamlet is characterized as being a human and being a prince. But, I argue, even if we accept that there are fictional characters and that Hamlet is one of them, we shouldn’t take the fictional character Hamlet to genuinely be a human or a prince. I then consider and reject various other strategies the fictional realist might adopt to try and provide an account of descriptive reports. I argue that, ultimately, the realist must take such reports to be made within the scope of a make-believe or pretense that there is a world which is as the play Hamlet describes. For, while the realist shouldn’t accept that the fictional character of Hamlet is really a prince, she can nevertheless grant that it counts as one within the scope of the make-believe that Hamlet correctly describes a real world. And she can maintain that the intuitive truth of such reports depends upon whether the sentences they embed count as being true within the scope of the relevant make-believe. However I note that this account is also available to the irrealist who denies there are fictional characters. For, while the irrealist denies that really there is anything corresponding to Hamlet, she nevertheless grants that, within the make-believe, there is such a thing and it is a prince. Moreover it is very natural to extend this strategy to cover the sorts of reports containing fictional names, such as »In Hamlet , Hamlet equivocates«, that were invoked by the argument for fictional realism initially considered. However, if we adopt this strategy, we can explain our intuitions concerning these reports without our having to accept there are fictional objects. And so the argument for fictional realism that we initially considered is undermined. The very apparatus the realist invokes to provide an account of »In Hamlet , a certain prince equivocates« allows the irrealist to provide an account of »In Hamlet , Hamlet equivocates« without invoking fictional objects.

Theories which take fictional objects to be a kind of abstract object are faced with the obvious problem of how to explain the seeming truth of sentences ascribing internal properties. Abstract objects cannot be cynical, be magicians or smoke pipe. Call this the problem of the wrong kind of object. There are a number of well-known strategies which abstractists have employed to evade the problem. In this paper, I discuss whether Edward Zalta’s distinction between two kinds of predication, exemplifying and encoding, can help us solve the problem. I start out in section 2 by reviewing the general debate between realists and antirealists concerning fictional objects. Realists think that fictional objects exist, while antirealists deny this. It is however useful to remember that participants in the debate differ in their interpretation of »exists« and »fictional«. Remembering this helps to locate Zalta’s account in the realist camp. Section 3 introduces the problem of the wrong kind of object, namely of how we can simultaneously take fictional objects to be abstract objects and understand sentences like »Rick Blaine is cynical« as straightforwardly true. I distinguish five strategies of dealing with this problem. Abstractists can (a) assume that fictional names are ambiguous, (b) distinguish between two kinds of properties, (c) understand such sentences as being governed by a fiction operator, (d) distinguish between two kinds of predication, or (e) take the predicate to be evaluated in some special way (which needs to be specified). I shortly comment on (a) and (b), then a problem for strategy (c) is discussed: It seems to commit us to the view that fictions prescribe recipients to imagine de re of some fictional objects that they have properties which they actually cannot have. I argue that this is not what fictions actually prescribe. Section 4 introduces strategy (d), Zalta’s distinction between exemplifying and encoding. The distinction turns out to be a remedy against the problem of the wrong kind of object. Unfortunately it reintroduces the problem identified for strategy (c). I explore a radical way of evading the problem by understanding fictional objects to be representations. Although the idea can be found in Zalta’s writings, it leads to internal tensions in his account, cannot solve the problem at hand, and seems to generate additional problems. Additionally, Zalta’s assumption that fictional objects have their individuation conditions via the properties they encode is shown to be problematic on independent grounds. Section 5 discusses whether Zalta’s distinction between exemplifying and encoding is compatible with an artefactualist account of fictional characters. Assuming that most artefactualists would not want to understand existence as a discriminating predicate, I argue that combining this idea with the exemplifying/encoding distinction goes at least against the spirit of the artefactualist account. Section 6 introduces the idea of different evaluations of predicates without simultaneously being committed to Zalta’s strong assumptions. While this seems to be possible, such accounts also need to find a way of answering the argument given at the end of section 3.

The paper looks at the diversity of contexts in which aboutness claims are made: e. g. »x is about a «, »x is about φ«, and so on. It asks what such claims mean and whether there is a univocal meaning (of »about«) in all cases. The paper argues that there is a single meaning of »about« and that it can be elucidated in terms of conditions on interpretation. To establish the truth-conditions of aboutness claims we need to appeal to what objects or concepts must be invoked to make sense of the claims themselves as uttered in context. So aboutness is not essentially a referential relation nor explicable purely extensionally. Aboutness claims involving works of fiction are discussed and the thought that the identity of fictional characters is interest-relative is brought to bear on the issue; this in turn suggests that aboutness claims concerning fiction are themselves interest-relative. More specifically, certain long-established views on »about« are addressed, notably that of Nelson Goodman, who distinguishes a relational from a non-relational sense, the latter characterised by the one-place predicate » a -about«. Goodman’s device is valuable but it is argued does not amount to a separate sense for »about«. Something more fundamental is going on in aboutness claims, something which all examples have in common whether they are genuinely relational or not. Proposals – e. g. from Rudolf Carnap – involving semantic ascent, whereby names rather than objects named are deemed to be the proper subjects of aboutness claims, are also rejected, partly because names are often not involved or implied. So instead a principle of invocation is introduced, which asks what must be invoked in a competent interpretation of an aboutness claim. To say truthfully that S is about a requires a grasp of the context in which S is uttered, knowledge of which can ground an interpretation of S. And the truth-value of »S is about a « will itself depend on the context in which the utterance is made. Judgments of aboutness are interest-relative because under different interests different factors will be salient, as contextually determined. Whether it is true to state that Daniel Defoe’s novel Robinson Crusoe is about the real life Alexander Selkirk will depend on the kind of interest brought to the novel, for example, concerning historical facts about its origin or literary facts about its content. Finally, consideration is given to claims about fictional characters. How can we »invoke« a fictional character in an interpretation if there are no such things? Reverting to Goodman’s terminology, in virtue of what is Pickwick Papers Pickwick-about? As Pickwick is not an object standing in a relation to the novel we might construe the predicate »Pickwick-about« as identifying a concept, something like Pickwick-as-depicted-in- Pickwick-Papers . This thought is developed by looking at identity conditions for fictional characters. When are two characters identical or different (Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, versions of the Faust character, or Maria in West Side Story and Juliet in Romeo and Juliet )? Again, it is argued that these questions afford no absolute answer but will depend on the context-dependent interests brought to bear on them. A passage in Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella might be Mr-Hyde-about but not Dr-Jekyll-about, which is just to say that to understand the passage we must invoke the Mr Hyde conception not the Dr Jekyll conception. Given that these two conceptions are distinct, with their own defining characteristics, we can say that under certain interests Dr Jekyll is not identical with Mr Hyde, while of course under other interests (taking the novella as a whole) the characters are identical.

This essay will be concerned with an evaluation, modification, and critique of van Inwagen’s famous argument for the existence of fictional characters. In the first section a reconstruction of the original argument will be provided, and three different challenges for this version of the argument will be pointed out. The first challenge concerns van Inwagen’s commitment to first-order predicate logic as a canonical language for the formal representation of truth-conditions of assertoric sentences in natural languages, and the problematic semantic complexity of van Inwagen’s original example sentences of quantifications about fictional objects. The second challenge concerns his commitment to a Quinean conception of ordinary language quantifications that conceives of first-order quantifiers as existentially loaded. The third challenge concerns van Inwagen’s tendency to interpret our ordinary intuitions about the truth-values of specific sentences as intuitions about the truth-values of the literal contents of these sentences. In the second section, a more detailed investigation of these three challenges will be provided; and a modified, and less problematic, alternative version of the argument will be proposed. It will be shown that the truth-conditions of van Inwagen’s original example sentences cannot be adequately represented on the basis of first-order predicate logic. I will propose alternative and less complex example sentences that are sufficient for the required purpose. Additionally, a reformulation of the argument will be proposed that avoids a commitment to a specific sort of formal framework. After that, it will be shown why the assumption of a Quinean conception of quantification unnecessarily increases the burden of proof. A reformulation of the argument will be proposed that avoids the commitment to a Quinean conception of quantification. Furthermore, I will make a third and final adjustment of the argument that allows us to remain neutral concerning the specific status of our truth-value intuitions concerning the proposed example sentences of generalisations about fictional objects. In the third and final section, three possible responses of an irrealist concerning fictional objects will be evaluated. The first option makes use of a recent semantic analysis of the modifying adjective ›fictional‹ proposed by Sainsbury. According to this analysis, a sentence like ›There are fictional mice that talk‹ is semantically equivalent with the claim ›There are fictional works according to which it is the case that at least one mouse talks‹. The second option additionally makes use of Sainsbury’s conception of spotty scope for ordinary language quantifiers and other related sentential operators. It will be shown why both options cannot account for the desired true readings of our example sentences. Finally, a third solution will be proposed and defended. This solution makes use of a substitutional interpretation of specific fictional generalisations based on a negative free logic to undermine the modified argument. It will be shown how this solution allows us to provide a correct analysis of the desired readings of our example sentences of generalisations about fictional characters. After that, two problems of this account will be discussed. The first problem concerns the extension of the proposed strategy to more complicated and sophisticated example sentences. The second problem concerns the independent motivation of a substitutional treatment of at least certain natural language quantificational expressions.

In this paper, I will start from considering some theoretical desiderata concerning sentences that directly or indirectly involve fiction: i) the fictional use of language requires a context-shift; ii) one understands a sentence whether it is used fictionally or not; iii) one and the same proper name is, typically at least, used both within a certain work of fiction, i. e., when the sentence containing it is used fictionally, and outside that work of fiction, i. e., when, apparently at least, the sentence containing it is used nonfictionally yet in order to indirectly concern that very fiction; iv) different naming practices are to be mobilized by such different uses (independently of whether the apparently nonfictional use is actually successful as far as the reference of the name is concerned); v) independently of their really having a referent, proper names are always devices of direct reference. I will claim that once one takes proper names as indexicals of a particular sort, indexinames for short, one can account for some tensions that arise from the aforementioned desiderata. According to my proposal, a proper name »N.N.« is an indexical whose character is roughly expressed by the description »the individual called ›N.N.‹ (in context)«, where this description means »the individual one’s interlocutor’s attention is called to by means of ›N.N.‹ (in context)«. This character is a partial function that maps narrow contexts onto referents. Such contexts are enriched narrow contexts that over and above the traditional parameters (agent, space, time and world) also include an ›acquisition‹ parameter, i. e., a parameter filled by a naming practice constituted by an informal act of dubbing (in which the dubber tries to call one’s attention via the name to something), and usually also by a certain transmission chain. By appealing to this context, an indexiname automatically acquires a referent, if there is any (quite similar to the way things work with demonstratives once their narrow contexts are taken to be enriched by a further parameter, typically a ›demonstration‹-parameter). Furthermore, I claim that such a proposal works independently of one’s ontological stance concerning fictional entities, that is, independently of whether one believes either that there are or that there are no such entities. Simply put, individuals of different kinds (actual fictional characters for realists, nonactual individuals for anti-realists) are picked out by indexinames in the relevant narrow contexts. Furthermore, I will argue that such a proposal is advantageous to similar indexicalist proposals such as the one put forward by Tiedke (2011), for that proposal seems unnecessarily ad hoc and it is still too undeveloped. Finally, I will try to show how this proposal can deal with some objections one may raise against an indexicalist treatment of proper names: a) the objection from validity, claiming that if names are indexicals, then one can no longer account for the validity of certain inferences involving them; b) the objection from contexts, claiming that if names are indexicals, then one cannot plausibly account for sentences involving them (in context) to be absolutely true (true in that context).

In the debate on the ontology of fictional entities realists claim that fictional characters exist. Some fictional realists are Platonists. They claim that fictional characters are abstract entities that exist necessarily and are non-spatial and timeless. It seems that the author’s job is just to discover these entities. Other realists claim that fictional characters are abstract artefacts. Obviously these abstract artefacts do not have much in common with platonic entities. »Abstract« means, according to this creationistic account, that these artefacts are non-spatial entities. But as artefacts they are created and thus depend on someone who creates them and on the act of creation. Surprisingly, those realists do not say much about this process of creation. This article proposes an addition to the realist account at this point, focusing on the question of how fictional characters are created. However, my proposal is only concerned with the creation of fictional characters within the framework of fictional stories told by means of linguistic utterances. Therefore my question is: how can authors create fictional entities by telling fictional stories? I will begin by discussing whether an utterance act or a mere mental action, namely someone’s imagining something, is necessary or sufficient for the successful creation of fictional entities. I will distinguish two different interpretations of the claim that a person creates entities by imaging something and I will argue that realists should reject both versions of this claim. Constructively, I will go on to emphasize similarities between fictional entities and social entities like contracts and marriages. This is important because realists in the debate about social entities provide more detailed descriptions of the creation of social entities, details which can be adapted in order to describe the process by which fictional entities are created. I emphasize that this process, namely the fictional story telling, is a social practice. The social character of this practice will be shown in mainly two aspects: Firstly, I will argue that similar to the creation of other social entities for the creation of fictional characters there has to be a collectively recognised institution, namely the institution of fictional story telling. Thus, collective intentionality plays a crucial role in the process of this creation. As such an institution plays a decisive role I will go on to claim that the creation of an abstract artefact requires the performance not only of a mere utterance act, but of a successfully executed illocutionary act. By following Austin and Searle I will finally argue that only utterance tokens which in the specific situation are necessary to realize the illocutionary point or purpose can count as performances of illocutionary acts. In order to perform an illocutionary act successfully, the utterance must bring about an illocutionary uptake in the recipient/hearer, i. e. she must understand the utterance. Therefore, illocutionary acts can in general not be performed successfully without a hearer/recipient. Thus, to understand fictional story telling and the creation of fictional characters as a social practice means that the creative process cannot be explained exclusively in terms of imaginings. This does not mean that imagination does not play any role in producing or reading fiction. But creationists need more than imagination to explain how fictional characters are created. The aim of this paper is to take a step forward towards an explanation of the creation of fictional characters and thus to rendering the creationist’s account more plausible in (1) naming necessary conditions for successfully telling a fictional story, (2) describing it as a social praxis and (3) explaining the role collective intentionality plays in this practice, we have.

Simone Winko (1991) has put forward a model for analysing the structures of values in texts. The model describes explicit and implicit evalua­tions, defining implicit evaluation (which can take place by means of parallelism, contrast, or transposition) in microstructural terms. This article adds a macrostructural component to the framework: the transfer of values ( Wertungsübertragung ). The concept is developed using the generation of meaning by correlation ( korrelative Sinnstiftung , Stock 2002) as a starting point: when elements of a text are related to each other by equivalences, these relations of equivalence cause, by means of analogy or contrast, differences between various parts of a text to become apparent. These differences and commonalities, Stock suggests, prompt us to form theses about the meaning of the combination in the text. The transfer of values can be seen as a particular case of meaning being generated by correlation: a first object (the source element in the text) undergoes an explicit or explicit evaluation and that evaluation is transferred to a second object (the target element in the text) on the basis of relations of contiguity and equivalence. In the case of the progressive transfer of values, an evaluation of a source element that precedes the target element is transferred to the latter in a chronologically linear manner. Conversely, in the case of the regressive transfer of values, an element in the text initially lacks a clear evaluation: an evaluation of a source element can be transferred to the earlier target element in an inversion of the chronological order in which they appeared. Whereas explicit evaluations are clearly expressed in the text, implicit evaluations must be identified by recipients on the basis of the textual evidence (parallels, relations of contrast, etc.). Where the transfer of values is concerned, too, the recipient has to be able to recognize the relation between the source and target elements in the text. A transfer of values that is based on an explicit evaluation is therefore an aspect of reception. A transfer of values that is based on an implicit evaluation is likewise an aspect of reception, but now in two ways: the point of reference for the evaluation must, if it is not stated on the surface level of the text, be reconstructed by means of warrants (Winko 1991, 141–143). The transfer of values is, finally, also possible when element A is followed by element B in a text and B is, as the source element, explicitly or implicitly evaluated. If on a second occasion A is again followed by B , the first evaluation of the source element can be transferred to both A and B : A and B form a thematic cluster (Schulz 2010, 358). Evaluations of cluster elements can be transferred to other cluster elements in other locations. A transfer of values that is based on an explicit evaluation of the source element of the text can acquire a higher degree of manifestness (Jannidis 2004, 57–60) than one that is based on an implicit or hidden evaluation. When analysing the structure of values in a text, it is necessary to determine how the transfer of values is weighted relative to other kinds of evaluation (see Prinz/Winko 2013, 405f.). Criteria for doing so can include primacy effects; the quantitative dimension of the transfer of values; further occurrences of elements in the text that are based on comparable relations of contiguity and equivalence; the number of textual features/cluster elements that are based on these relations of contiguity and equivalence; the robustness of the evaluation of the source element in the text (reliability, competence, and the knowledge of the evaluating agent); striking features of stylistic expression; the number and relevance of all the other evaluations, including behavioural preferences of the figures and the way sympathies are channelled; the relation to extratextual points of reference for evaluations. Transfers of values are based not on the direct ascription of a value to an object of evaluation but on equivalence and contiguity – that is, on adjacency in terms of time and space or content (Haferland 2009, 82). Contiguity is a form of connection that is less distinctive than causality. Identifying causality, just like identifying contiguity, involves the act of reception. Because recipients tend to assume, in a post hoc, ergo propter hoc manner, a meaningful link between events that adjoin each other in time and space, contiguity relations often suggest that a causal connection accompanies them. If recipients decide to accept this, there results a stronger link between the elements than is explicitly present in the text. This ›error‹ can lead to transfers of values having a marked influence on how a particular process of reception unfolds in practice. The transfer of values, moreover, does not necessarily always have to be less strongly weighted than, say, explicit evaluation. As with the processes by means of which sympathies are channelled, it can be assumed that its not only explicit information in the text and instances of active reflection in the process of reception that feed into the matrix of values that a particular recipient assembles for a text in the course of their reading. Advertising shows how well positive connotations can be transferred to the product being marketed from contexts that are very distant from it. Elements of a text that lack an eye-catching position in the foreground can still contribute on a subliminally significant level to the recip­ient’s impression. Although explicit evaluations by the narrator stand out and can prompt the recipient to reflect on them, a passing reference to an emotion of a minor character, for instance, can take on a considerable potential significance in influencing reception (Dimpel 2011, 72–75, 402–414). Two representative examples of the transfer of values in Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival are presented. Parzival adopts ›obedience to authority‹ as the point of reference for his values at the Grail Castle: his instructor, Gurnemanz, enjoined him to avoid questions. Parzival therefore does not ask the question about the suffering of the Grail King that would have freed Anfortas from his suffering. Whereas the narrator merely laments that the question was not asked but does not negatively evaluate this, Parzival is on the receiving end of intense criticism from other characters (Sigune, Cundrie, Trevrizent) who clearly assess Parzival’s omission in terms of the value of ›pity‹ as a point of reference. The structure of the text’s values is also ambiguous in a wider sense: Parzival’s perspective as a character certainly has a considerable quantitative dimension and the decision he makes on the spot makes sense – yet the representation of Anfortas’s suffering also takes up a considerable amount of space and the consequences of the failure to ask the question receive much attention. In the scene with the three drops of blood in the snow, Parzival’s interior life is contrasted with the external world through his love for his wife – the attacking knights are presented as vain. The interior world is given priority over the external world – a regressive transfer of values to the omission of the question, correlating Parzival’s positive intention of following Gurnemanz’s counsel with other positive aspects of his interiority as a character. The condemnation of Parzival by Cundrie at the Arthurian court is linked by contiguity and equivalence to the accusation of Gawan by Kingrimursel, who alleges that he murdered his lord. Parzival receives religious absolution in Book IX, but Trevrizent still presents the redemption of the Grail King as impossible. Immediately afterwards, the charge against Gawan turns out to be unjustified – the murder was committed by someone else. Thus, by means of a regressive transfer of values, Cundrie’s reproaches against Parzival appear in a light that can make them seem unjustified. No causal explanation is given for why Parzival later receives a second chance to redeem Anfortas, so it would seem that the relevance of the re-evaluation of Gawan’s supposed guilt in the composition of the Parzival story cannot be underestimated.

In describing the position of the narrator, research in literary studies generally follows Gérard Genette’s pioneering theory of narrative in distinguishing between the homo- and heterodiegetic type of narrator. This categorization is not sufficient to allow the position of the narrator to be described properly. The different ways in which the terms are used in literary studies reveal a shortcoming in the distinction behind them. Even in Genette’s work, there is a contradiction between the definition and the names of the two categories: Genette defines homo- and heterodiegesis with reference to the narrator’s presence in the narrated story, whereas he elsewhere states that the diegesis (in the sense of French diégèse ) is »a universe rather than a train of events (a story)«: it »is therefore not the story but the universe in which the story takes place« (Genette 1988, 17; italics in original). The definition and the names do not match up in Genette’s theory of narrative; the expressions ›homo-‹ and ›heterodiegesis‹ would appear to rest on an understanding that is different from what Genette sets out explicitly. Once Genette has described ›diegesis‹ in terms of the universe of the story, the only possible interpretation of the terms ›homo-‹ and ›hetero diegetic ‹ is that they are to be understood in relation to the narrated world. This in turn means that a homodiegetic narrator does not, as in Genette’s original definition, have to be part of the story: what is now essential is belonging to »the universe in which the story takes place«. Distinguishing between diegesis as universe and as story is significant because it reveals two different criteria for describing the position of the narrator: (i) the ontological status of the narratorial instance, which depends on whether it is part of the spatio-temporal universe of the narrative (the narrated world), and (ii) the degree to which the narratorial instance is involved in the story. The former criterion is clearly a question of ontology; the latter alternates between ontological and thematic criteria. As these two possible definitions of homo- and heterodiegesis are often not distinguished, the various writers who use the terms do so to refer to aspects of narrative that are not necessarily the same. Analytic practice in narrative theory would benefit considerably from keeping them apart. There is therefore a case to be made for using both possible aspects in the analysis of narrative texts while also keeping them separate by definition. The present article aims to do just that, starting from a theoretical standpoint. Thus, the different types of narrator that are possible are sketched in outline, and then explained with the help of examples. I begin by exposing the problems that result from using the terms in Genette’s manner (1), in order then to develop a list of possible narratorial standpoints based on the one hand on the involvement of the narratorial instance in the narrated world and on the other on its involvement in the story. By establishing separation of the two aspects as a ground rule in this way, a number of misunderstandings that are due to the varied ways in which the terminology has been used to date can be overcome. There follows a description of those cases that are unambiguously hetero- and homodiegetic (2), after which the problematic cases are considered (3), yielding the different types of homodiegetic narration that are possible. This latter set of distinctions will, like the others, shed light on the contours of the different narratorial positions and thus be capable of being put profitably into practice in textual interpretation. Accordingly, what is suggested is a way of using the terms that is first unambiguous and second beneficial to the interpretation of works, thus doing justice to the heuristic importance of narratology (see Kindt/Müller 2003; Stanzel 2002, 19). Thus, whereas the concept of diegesis provides the foundation for a distinction based on an ontological criterion that divides homo- and heterodiegesis from each other, the relationship between story and narrator is used to describe various types of homodiegetic narration. In the process, there come to light two types that are distinguished from each other by involvement in events (›homodiegetic, in the story‹ and ›homodiegetic, not in the story‹ narrators). If the narrator is not involved in events, the question arises of whether it would in principle have been possible for him to be involved in events, which is the norm with ›homodiegetic, not in the story‹ narrators, or whether a physical impossibility is the reason for his lack of involvement in the story. A special case of the ›homodiegetic, not in the story‹ narrator can be derived from this: peridiegetic narration: whereas narratorial instances of the ›homodiegetic, in the story‹ and ›homodiegetic, not in the story‹ types could in principle have been involved in the action and those of the ›homodiegetic, in the story‹ type actually were, peridiegetic narrators are marked by the fact that they cannot have been involved in the events. In summary, it will be shown that the concept of homodiegesis – in particular in the form in which it has previously been used, where links with the action and appearance in the story were not kept distinct – is in effect an umbrella term that brings together a number of possible forms. There is a prominent distinction between the ›homodiegetic, in the story‹ and the ›homodiegetic, not in the story‹ types of narrator (these types are represented in the present article by the old lawyer in Leo Perutz’s »The Beaming Moon« and the narrator who is a friend of Nathanael in E. T. A. Hoffmann’s »Sandman« respectively). The different degrees of homodiegetic narrator, which have often been mentioned in previous research and are defined by the strength of the character’s presence in the narrated world (from an uninvolved witness to an autodiegetic protagonist), are also to be situated between these two poles. It will also be shown in the process that the case of the narrator who is, for reasons of physical difference, not involved in events (the peridiegetic narrator) should be treated as a form of homodiegesis (for instance the schoolmaster in Theodor Storm’s Rider on the White Horse and the first-person narrator in Uwe Timm’s The Discovery of the Currywurst ). What results from these assumptions is, in particular, the crucial idea that narrators who belong to the universe of the story, but cannot claim any temporal or spatial simultaneity with its events, are no different from homodiegetic narrators where the logic of fiction is concerned. It is all the more remarkable that narrators of this kind have often been classed as heterodiegetic in the past. Distinguishing between ontological difference and involvement in events provides a foundation for a more refined description of the narrator, one that is particularly significant in the case of narration that is unreliable or concerned with the unreal.