Point of View Comparison: First Person vs Third Person

(Adapted from the novel Struggling to Survive by Julia Gousseva)

First Person Example

I put Larisa back into the stroller, adjusted her blanket and kept walking. We used the
underpass to cross the busy Manezh Square and came to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a
tribute to Russian soldiers who perished in the Great Patriotic War. The dark red monument
reminiscent of a large coffin was decorated with a massive sculpture of a soldier’s helmet and a laurel
branch laid on the bronze folds of a flag. My gaze swept over the commemorative pine wreaths that
lined the wall behind the monument and bouquets of freshly cut flowers piled on it. A large five-
point star was built into the ground in front of the monument, and hot flame emanated from its
center. Eternal flame, it was called.
I took a step closer, feeling the heat. I read the inscription in the bronze, “Your name is
unknown, your heroism is immortal.” The words were familiar, but as I thought of Yuri, they
acquired a very different meaning, a cynical one. Yuri and the other submariners were heroes, but
they did not die defending their country. They died during a training exercise, mainly due to the
negligence of their commanders, and their names would be unknown to the general public because
that’s the way the government preferred it. Their deaths and the unsinkable submarine that became
their watery grave were an embarrassment to the country, and any mention of the submarine and its
sailors was a reminder of the deeper problems Russia was experiencing.
I looked up at the two honor guards in crisp military uniforms who stood vigil on either side
of the monument. The clock on the Kremlin tower chimed on the hour, and the guards took a step
forward in unison, made a sharp turn and started marching towards two other young guards coming
from the opposite direction. When the two pairs came within a step of each other, they stopped long
enough to give crisp salutes. Then, they kept marching, walking away from each other. Soon, the
new pair reached the tomb, and changing of the guard was complete. I watched the young men,
clean-shaven, physically fit, and probably idealistic, like Yuri used to be. I wondered what their
future would bring.

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 Larisa started fussing and talking loudly, flailing her legs and arms around wildly, a sign that
she wanted to keep moving. I put a pacifier in her mouth, pushed the stroller through the wrought-
iron gate of the Alexander Garden, and climbed the short incline that led into the Red Square,
carefully pushing the stroller on the icy cobblestone.
Sparkling snowflakes were whirling and dancing in the air, gradually growing larger and
moving faster, covering the road, the rooftops, and the pine trees with a layer of pure white powder,
hiding all the imperfections and problems. If only it were that easy to cover the problems and the
pain in my life.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the tangy smell of pines, as I walked onto the Red Square. The
familiar cobblestone under my feet, the majestic red towers and the chiming of the Kremlin clock
immersed me into my recent past. A sudden surge of conflicting emotions washed over me as
memories of the happy New Year’s Eve when I came here with Yuri came flooding back. I could
almost feel his presence next to me, and it was haunting and bittersweet. Everything reminded me of
him: the red brick buildings, the gentle whoosh of tree branches swaying in the wind, the delicate
scent of pine trees, and the cobblestone square where we liked to walk. It was strange to think that
Larisa would know her dad only through my stories and pictures.
Pushing the stroller, I walked past Lenin’s Mausoleum and stopped next to the Kremlin’s
Clock Tower, its chime reverberating sharply through the cold air. This was the exact spot where
Yuri proposed two short years ago. It was a happy time when I thought I was starting a new and
long life with Yuri. He promised to take care of me and protect me. Now, everything was different,
as I had to take care of and protect my young child.
“Ready to see the grand opening?” a familiar voice said, interrupting my thoughts.

2
Third Person Example
Anya put Larisa back into the stroller, adjusted her blanket and kept walking. They used the
underpass to cross the busy Manezh Square and came to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a
tribute to Russian soldiers who perished in the Great Patriotic War. The dark red monument
reminiscent of a large coffin was decorated with a massive sculpture of a soldier’s helmet and a laurel
branch laid on the bronze folds of a flag. Anya’s gaze swept over the commemorative pine wreaths
that lined the wall behind the monument and bouquets of freshly cut flowers piled on it. A large
five-point star was built into the ground in front of the monument, and hot flame emanated from its
center. Eternal flame, it was called.
Anya took a step closer, feeling the heat. She read the inscription in the bronze, “Your name
is unknown, your heroism is immortal.” The words were familiar, but as she thought of Yuri, they
acquired a very different meaning for Anya, a cynical one. Yuri and the other submariners were
heroes, but they did not die defending their country. They died during a training exercise, mainly due
to the negligence of their commanders, and their names would be unknown to the general public
because that’s the way the government preferred it. Their deaths and the unsinkable submarine that
became their watery grave were an embarrassment to the country, and any mention of the submarine
and its sailors was a reminder of the deeper problems Russia was experiencing.
Anya looked up at the two honor guards in crisp military uniforms who stood vigil on either
side of the monument. The clock on the Kremlin tower chimed on the hour, and the guards took a
step forward in unison, made a sharp turn and started marching towards two other young guards
coming from the opposite direction. When the two pairs came within a step of each other, they
stopped long enough to give crisp salutes. Then, they kept marching, walking away from each other.
Soon, the new pair reached the tomb, and changing of the guard was complete. Anya watched the
young men, clean-shaven, physically fit, and probably idealistic, like Yuri used to be. She wondered
what their future would bring.
Larisa started fussing and talking loudly, flailing her legs and arms around wildly, a sign that
she wanted to keep moving. Anya put a pacifier in her mouth, pushed the stroller through the
wrought-iron gate of the Alexander Garden, and climbed the short incline that led into the Red
Square, carefully pushing the stroller on the icy cobblestone.
Sparkling snowflakes were whirling and dancing in the air, gradually growing larger and
moving faster, covering the road, the rooftops, and the pine trees with a layer of pure white powder,

3
hiding all the imperfections and problems. If only it were that easy to cover the problems and the
pain in her life.
Anya took a deep breath, inhaling the tangy smell of pines, as she walked onto the Red
Square. The familiar cobblestone under her feet, the majestic red towers and the chiming of the
Kremlin clock immersed Anya into her recent past. A sudden surge of conflicting emotions washed
over her as memories of the happy New Year’s Eve when she came here with Yuri came flooding
back. She could almost feel his presence next to her, and it was haunting and bittersweet. Everything
reminded her of him: the red brick buildings, the gentle whoosh of tree branches swaying in the
wind, the delicate scent of pine trees, and the cobblestone square where they liked to walk. It was
strange to think that Larisa would know her dad only through Anya’s stories and pictures.
Pushing the stroller, Anya walked past Lenin’s Mausoleum and stopped next to the
Kremlin’s Clock Tower, its chime reverberating sharply through the cold air. This was the exact spot
where Yuri proposed to her two short years ago. It was a happy time when Anya thought she was
starting a new and long life with Yuri. He promised to take care of her and protect her. Now,
everything was different, as Anya had to take care of and protect her young child.
“Ready to see the grand opening?” a familiar voice said, interrupting Anya’s thoughts.