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MasterClass defines metafiction as a “self-conscious literary style in which the narrator or characters are aware that they are part of a work of fiction … [and] in which a self-aware narrator infuses their perspective into the text to create a fictional work that comments on fiction.” According to the same source, metafiction has several purposes. The first is to emphasise the tension that exists between the real and the fictional world, or to bring unexpected twists into a story. Metafiction can also be used to reveal something about a character, the plot, or the general human condition, or finally, to highlight something about the writer in a very deliberate way.

Metafiction—or 'surfiction'—gives the writer the space to be self-conscious, and to reflect on their own writing process. An example would be an actor in a stage play who addresses the audience directly, or a character in a fictional movie or series who looks at, and speaks directly to, the camera. (For instance, in series such as Rick and Morty and The Office, the characters sometimes break out of ‘character mode’ to address the audience personally). In these cases, metafiction is used to make you, the reader, an active participant in the story, as opposed to someone who merely observes from the outside.

There are many examples of brilliant use of metafiction in the literary world. One of the most notable is French author André Gide's novel, The Counterfeiters, which is summarised by critic Harry Levin as "the diary of a novelist who is writing a novel [to be called The Counterfeiters] about a novelist who is keeping a diary about the novel he is writing". Also called the 'self-reflexive novel' or 'involuted novel' (defined by M.H. Abrams' A Glossary of Literary Terms as "[a novel that] incorporates into its narration reference to the process of composing the fictional story itself"), metafiction is also prominent in the work of Russian writer, Vladimir Nabokov. In fact, one of my favourite examples of metafiction can be found in Nabokov's novel, Pnin.

Author of the famous novel, Lolita, Nabokov rocked the world with his dark story of a grown man, Humbert Humbert, who falls in love with a young girl named Lolita. Less famous, although very entertaining, is Pnin, a story about an eccentric Russian professor, Timofey Pnin, who moves to America to teach Russian at the provincial Waindell College. Awkward but kind, and always wary of potential pitfalls, Pnin has to learn to navigate the new American context he finds himself in—and Nabokov’s fondness for his own character shines through at every turn in the novel.

A good demonstration of metafiction in Pnin can be found in the opening chapter of the novel, when the professor travels to Cremona to present a lecture to the Cremona Women’s Club. A series of misadventures, the trip begins when Pnin reads an outdated schedule and consequently takes the wrong train. Next, he misplaces his lecture notes; and finally, the man tasked with looking after the professor’s bags after he gets off the train leaves unexpectedly, which causes Pnin to miss the bus that was supposed to take him to the place the (wrong) train had not. When Pnin finally makes it to Cremona, Nabokov expertly navigates the plot using metafiction to include two diverging storylines in the same passage. Faced with the decision of whether Pnin should be plagued with more disasters, or if he should finally be allowed to give his lecture, Nabokov writes:

Had I been reading about this mild old man, instead of writing about him, I would have preferred him to discover, upon his arrival to Cremona, that his lecture was not this Friday but the next. Actually, however, he not only arrived safely but was in time for dinner—a fruit cocktail, to begin with, mint jelly with the anonymous meat course, chocolate syrup with the vanilla ice cream.

As a metafictional device, Nabokov introduces himself into the story (as a 'self-conscious narrator'), and simultaneously makes the story aware of its characterisation as fictional.

Toward the end of the novel, Nabokov once again employs metafiction, this time by introducing himself into the story as a character. He describes the first time he, as a child, sees Pnin at his father’s ophthalmology practice (“Do I really remember his crew cut, his puffy pale face, his red ears? Yes, distinctly”), and again, five years later, when he runs into Pnin while visiting an aunt in the country. He then meets the professor in the early twenties at a Paris café, then half a dozen years later at the house of a mutual friend, and finally, once more, when the professor—after having left Waindell College some time before—passes him on the street while Nabokov is visiting a friend named Cockerell:

Hardly had I taken a couple of steps when a great truck carrying beer rumbled up the street, immediately followed by a small pale blue sedan with the white head of a dog looking out. The humble sedan was crammed with bundles and suitcases; its driver was Pnin. I emitted a roar of greeting, but he did not see me.

By becoming a character in his own story, Nabokov traces Pnin’s life in America before and after teaching at Waindell College; and in the particular passage above, he uses metafiction to highlight the poignance and sadness of the end of his acquaintance with the professor he so enjoyed knowing (and of whom we, as readers, have also become quite fond).

After passing Pnin on the street, Nabokov (as a character) goes home to his friend, Cockerell, where Cockerell ends the novel with the following words: “‘And now,’ he said, ‘I am going to tell you the story of Pnin rising to address the Cremona Women’s Club and discovering he had brought the wrong lecture.’” With these closing lines, the novel comes full circle (and beautifully so, I might add). Using metafiction, Nabokov is able to use his position as the writer to give the reader insight into Pnin’s thoughts, while as a character, he puts Pnin into perspective and shows us how the professor is viewed in the context of the other characters.

Throughout the novel, Nabokov demonstrates how fond he is of Pnin, and this suggests another possible, and more sentimental, reason why he uses metafiction: perhaps he employs this literary device, not to navigate tricky plotlines or provide the reader with a variety of perspectives, but because he wants to be closer to the character he knows so well and loves so dearly.