Who is the narrator, can she or he read minds, and, more importantly, can we trust her or him?
Varies: Third Person (Omniscient)
Two Central First Person Narrators (Juan Preciado and Pedro Páramo)
It's hard to boil down the narrative technique of Pedro Páramo, which is one of the things that makes the book so freaking interesting. We start out thinking we know what's up—it's a straightforward, first person narrator. He uses the word "I" and everything:
I came to Comala because I had been told that my father, a man named Pedro Páramo, lived there. (1.1)
Later we'll find out his name is Juan Preciado, and that he's a stranger in Comala, just like us.
But then things start getting weird. There's a jump back in time, and we get the distinct feeling that "I" is no longer the first narrator we met. And we're right—it's Pedro Páramo, narrating his childhood:
I was thinking of you, Susana. (6.6)
It takes a while to figure this thing out, but Rulfo doesn't let us relax. He starts throwing in some omniscient third person narration, too, to describe Father Rentería, so that the reader feels just as confused as Juan Preciado does.
In the end, Juan Preciado's own life doesn't matter all that much, and his voice is used to relay all the voices of the dead townspeople back to Dorotea and us eavesdropping readers. The technique of mixing up so many narrative styles makes it feel like the whole town of Comala is narrating the story, and this is one of the innovations that Pedro Páramo is famous for. It may be confusing, but it's also brilliant.
Rulfo uses this technique to back up one of the big themes of the novel: that one man's action affects the entire community. By narrating in the voices of all the community, that plural sensibility is transmitted to the reader.