Third Person Plural Past Tense (They [both/all of them] went...)

We’re getting there.

They gathered around the graveside just as they had around the coffin when it stood upon the best table in the O’Flynn’s front parlour. The rain fell upon them all, and none of them felt it. They were addressed by the priest, and none of them listened. They were united in their grief just as, whilst O’Flynn was alive, they had been united in their admiration. Rarely had a man died who was so universally but also so personally missed. When the priest finished speaking, they did their best to console one another. Hugs were not exchanged – theirs was not a hugging community – but hands were shaken, nods were passed and in every gesture or sound there was the same weight of meaning: ‘We still do not know all we have lost.’

This is the example I made up of this POV — Third Person Plural Past Tense (They [both/all of them] went...) — when I feared I wouldn’t be able to find one out in the wild.

I was thinking of Kevin Barry’s stories (‘Beer Trip to Llandudno’), and of Last Orders by Graham Swift.

But then I realised, I needn’t have bothered inventing a scene (though I enjoyed doing it).

There is an extremely famous use of this POV — Tim O’Brien’s great story, and much-anthologised story, ‘The Things They Carried’ from his collection The Things They Carried (1990).

However, this story — about grunts in the Vietnam war — frequently breaks out into Third Person Singular, in order to talk about individuals. It isn’t consistently plural.

The framework POV of the story, though, is a military they who are going through the same godawful experience together.

The reader — as O’Brien intends — gets the overwhelming sense of a diverse group suffering a collective trauma.

In this paragraph, I have bracketed the sentences that aren’t strictly Third Person Plural, because they slip into Third Person Singular, and deal with this or that soldier separately from the platoon.

The things they carried were largely determined by necessity. Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military Payment Certificates, C rations, and two or three canteens of water. Together, these items weighed between 15 and 20 pounds, depending upon a man’s habits or rate of metabolism. [Henry Dobbins, who was a big man, carried extra rations; he was especially fond of canned peaches in heavy syrup over pound cake. Dave Jensen, who practiced field hygiene, carried a toothbrush, dental floss, and several hotel-sized bars of soap he’d stolen on R&R in Sydney, Australia. Ted Lavender, who was scared, carried tranquilizers until he was shot in the head outside the village of Than Khe in mid-April.] By necessity, and because it was SOP, they all carried steel helmets that weighed 5 pounds including the liner and camouflage cover. They carried the standard fatigue jackets and trousers. Very few carried underwear.’

This is, I’d say, a perfect use of this POV. It permits the writer to move fluidly between group and individual. Between what was inevitable, because imposed, and what was optional, because insisted upon or kept secret.

You’ll notice that the individual names start to accumulate very quickly — Henry Dobbins, Dave Jensen, Ted Lavender — and soon become their own sub-crowd within the crowd. This means that even the appearance of he and he and he serves to emphasize the they.

I’m aware both my example, and Tim O’Brien’s, are exclusively male. I’m sure there must be uses of this POV that deal with either mixed or exclusively female groups (a nunnery, perhaps, or a girl gang).

So distinctive is ‘The Things The Carried’ in its effect, and so well-loved, that anyone subsequently writing in this POV is likely to be working either with or against its gritty grain.

This sometimes happens with POVs. It’s not necessarily the first use, or best use, but the best known that comes to dominate the field. (For example, the First Person Singular Present Tense of Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games.)

I’ve found it difficult to find examples of the various POVs. In some cases, with the more popular ones, someone has written a blog, or there’s a dedicated Goodreads page dedicated (as with  First Person Singular Present Tense). Wikipedia can still be a useful resource. I often direct students to the entry on Free Indirect Speech.

That’s why it is always great when readers of the Diary share the examples they know. I can add them to the list, and some day — following encouragement here — I’m hoping to put The Complete Guide to POV out as a short physical book.

So, if you have examples of this or any other of the more uncommon POVs, do let me know.

In summary:

Third Person Plural Past Tense

Likely upsides

Unifying, efficient, certain

Possible downsides

Uniform, flattening, bland

My Example

Third Person Plural Past Tense

They grabbed whoever or whatever was closest to them, but the plunge of the cable car still knocked most of the passengers off their feet. They screamed as this happened, and then their further screams came in waves. Their second scream was a death scream, expecting to be the last sound they ever made, the last thing they ever did. This was followed by their third scream, more diffused, which was an expression of horror at the situation they — each individual one of them — now found themselves in. Their third scream said, This can’t be happening, and the screams that followed — more broken up — said, This is really happening. Everyone got to their feet again and looked out at the view of lopsided mountains. The floor of the cable car was about fifteen degrees off horizontal, and some of the passengers’ heads were at the level of others’ chests. They began to speak. They asked one another if they were okay. They told one another the backup cable would hold them safe until they were rescued.