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The narrator is the story’s unnamed protagonist, who is determined in his pursuit of an old man whose strange demeanor captures his interest. More than any other trait, curiosity is what defines the narrator. His keen interest in the personal lives of the people around him is what ultimately leads to his long and confusing pursuit of the old man, and the story plays out through the narrator’s perceptive eyes, which catch every tiny detail. Throughout the story, the narrator becomes a vessel for readers to experience curiosity of their own, as the narrator wonders what secrets the old man could possibly be hiding. However, the narrator’s deductions about the old man and the people of the crowd might not be all that realistic—it’s totally possible that the conclusions he draws about people are inaccurate. This makes him a potentially unreliable narrator, but one who still notes the details of the people around him and attempts to categorize them. In this way, he tries to impose order on the chaotic world of the city, striving to make sense of the bewildering mass of humanity around him. This turns out to be a futile effort in the end; the old man remains a mystery that the narrator can never solve. But the narrator himself remarks that maybe his ignorance of those dark secrets is a good thing, and that maybe some things aren’t meant to be known. Despite this, the narrator embodies the aspect of human nature that is constantly seeking to learn, discover, solve problems, and answer questions. Although he almost seems to abandon his curiosity at the end of the story, the narrator still tries to define and categorize the old man, even if that only means labeling him as uncategorizable.
The Narrator Quotes in The Man of the Crowd
The The Man of the Crowd quotes below are all either spoken by The Narrator or refer to The Narrator. For each quote, you can also see the other characters and themes related to it (each theme is indicated by its own dot and icon, like this one:
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The Man of the Crowd
Quotes
Now and then, alas, the conscience of man takes up a burden so heavy in horror that it can be thrown down only into the grave. And thus the essence of all crime is undivulged.
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Others, still a numerous class, were restless in their movements, had flushed faces, and talked and gesticulated to themselves, as if feeling in solitude on account of the very denseness of the company around.
They all had slightly bald heads, from which the right ears, long used to pen-holding, had an odd habit of standing off on end. I observed that they always removed or settled their hats with both hands, and wore watches, with short gold chains of a substantial and ancient pattern.
The wild effects of the light enchained me to an examination of individual faces; and although the rapidity with which the world of light flitted before the window prevented me from casting more than a glance upon each visage, still it seemed that, in my peculiar mental state, I could frequently read, even in that brief interval of a glance, the history of long years.
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Any thing even remotely resembling that expression I had never seen before. I well remember that my first thought, upon beholding it, was that Retzch, had he viewed it, would have greatly preferred it to his own pictural incarnations of the fiend.
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His clothes, generally, were filthy and ragged; but as he came, now and then, within the strong glare of a lamp, I perceived that his linen, although dirty, was of beautiful texture; and my vision deceived me, or, through a rent in a closely-buttoned and evidently second-handed roquelaire which enveloped him, I caught a glimpse of both a diamond and of a dagger.
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By and by he passed into a cross street, which, although densely filled with people, was not quite so much thronged as the main one he had quitted. Here a change in his demeanor became evident. He walked more slowly and with less object than before —more hesitatingly.
“This old man,” I said at length, “is the type and the genius of deep crime. He refuses to be alone. He is the man of the crowd. It will be in vain to follow, for I shall learn no more of him, nor his deeds.”
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The Narrator Quotes in The Man of the Crowd
The The Man of the Crowd quotes below are all either spoken by The Narrator or refer to The Narrator. For each quote, you can also see the other characters and themes related to it (each theme is indicated by its own dot and icon, like this one:
).
The Man of the Crowd
Quotes
Now and then, alas, the conscience of man takes up a burden so heavy in horror that it can be thrown down only into the grave. And thus the essence of all crime is undivulged.
Related Characters:
Page Number and Citation:
Explanation and Analysis:
Others, still a numerous class, were restless in their movements, had flushed faces, and talked and gesticulated to themselves, as if feeling in solitude on account of the very denseness of the company around.
They all had slightly bald heads, from which the right ears, long used to pen-holding, had an odd habit of standing off on end. I observed that they always removed or settled their hats with both hands, and wore watches, with short gold chains of a substantial and ancient pattern.
The wild effects of the light enchained me to an examination of individual faces; and although the rapidity with which the world of light flitted before the window prevented me from casting more than a glance upon each visage, still it seemed that, in my peculiar mental state, I could frequently read, even in that brief interval of a glance, the history of long years.
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Any thing even remotely resembling that expression I had never seen before. I well remember that my first thought, upon beholding it, was that Retzch, had he viewed it, would have greatly preferred it to his own pictural incarnations of the fiend.
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Explanation and Analysis:
His clothes, generally, were filthy and ragged; but as he came, now and then, within the strong glare of a lamp, I perceived that his linen, although dirty, was of beautiful texture; and my vision deceived me, or, through a rent in a closely-buttoned and evidently second-handed roquelaire which enveloped him, I caught a glimpse of both a diamond and of a dagger.
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Explanation and Analysis:
By and by he passed into a cross street, which, although densely filled with people, was not quite so much thronged as the main one he had quitted. Here a change in his demeanor became evident. He walked more slowly and with less object than before —more hesitatingly.
“This old man,” I said at length, “is the type and the genius of deep crime. He refuses to be alone. He is the man of the crowd. It will be in vain to follow, for I shall learn no more of him, nor his deeds.”
