Who is the narrator, can she or he read minds, and, more importantly, can we trust her or him?
First Person
Everything in this book is fed to us (see what we did there?) through Titus, the main character. It's like we're right there in his head. Check this out:
And then the feed was going, it was doing this song, I got some feet, and those feet, they're gonna walk. Walk, feet, you walk, the ten toes, I walk with the feet, that one, and so we danced to it. It's a kind of low-hips dance, with the draggy elbows, and we did it, it's good for that. (36.4)
Titus speaks to us here like we're there with him, expecting that we'll know the song he's talking about ("that one"), and hints that we know the type of dance they're doing. And that's kind of the whole point; the book re-creates the experience of being in the feed along with Titus. It's almost like he's g-chatting—oops, we mean m-chatting—all of his thoughts, feelings, and desires right into our own heads. The big bonus from this is that it gets the reader really engaged with Titus's story. We feel like we're one of his friends—like we're "guys" with him.
On the downside, though, Titus isn't the most reliable of narrators, what with being shocking naive. For example, we can tell that there's some pretty major events going down in the world, like riots, killings, and America rattling its sabers. But Titus misses all this, because he's more focused on the latest Top Quark gear and those super cool tachyon shirts ($789.99, shipped for only an additional $78.95).
Enter Violet and the feed chatter, which together give us a more complete picture of what's up. We might spend most of our time in Titus's head, but, unlike him, we're able to get outside it.