What Makes "A Man with Two Lives" by Ambrose Bierce Great?
Ready to get lost and have no idea what the hell happened? Then you're ready to read and analyze Bierce's story. A story full of irony, unreliable narration, and a structure.
Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash
I admit it.
When it comes to unreliable narrators, I’m as lost and confused as a parent helping their 10 year-old kid with their math homework.
Even though I struggle to comprehend and understand stories that employ unreliable narration, I’m often thinking about them long after the reading (or viewing) is done.
The first time I encountered an unreliable narrator in fiction, I didn’t recognize it right away. I took the story at face value, only to realize later that the protagonist’s version of events didn’t quite add up. That moment—when certainty slipped into ambiguity—changed the way I read stories. It made me a better, more careful reader.
It also changed the way I wrote stories.
There’s something powerful about stories that challenge our sense of reality, forcing us to question what’s true (recent political climate not withstanding). Ambrose Bierce was a master of this technique, and his short story “A Man with Two Lives” is a perfect example.
Bierce, best known for “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” often blurred the lines between the real and the supernatural, using dark irony and narrative trickery to keep his readers unsettled.
Don’t believe me? Then see for yourself and read the story before reading. HERE’S link to a PDF version of the story.
Spoiler Alert!
“A Man with Two Lives” follows a man named David William Duck, also known as “Dead Duck,” who survives an ambush from “hostile Indians” on his way to Fort C.F. Smith and seemingly dies—not once, but twice—only to return to life again. How? We have have no idea and neither does the narrator. The narrator is just as confused as the reader.
The story plays with expectation, perception, and time and leaves the reader wondering if what they’ve read is possible or if something else is at work. (Hint, hint…something else is definitely at work.)
The story explores how fate and death operate on uncertain rules (does anyone really know the rules?), how reality is not always what it seems, and how a well-structured narrative can manipulate reader expectations.
Bierce accomplishes this through three storytelling techniques:
How does Bierce use irony to create a sense of the uncanny?
How does Bierce use unreliable narration to blur the lines between reality and the supernatural?
How does Bierce use structure and pacing to enhance the story?
How does Bierce use irony to create a sense of the uncanny?
Irony is central to “A Man with Two Lives,” specifically situational irony, where events unfold in a way that directly contradicts the reader’s expectations. Bierce presents death as absolute, only to repeatedly subvert it, twist it, play with it, and in doing so, creating an eerie and unsettling tone.
Example #1:
“My dear fellow, if you are Dave Duck, I ought to inform you that I buried you two months ago.”
Duck expects relief upon reaching Fort C. F. Smith, but instead, he is told he is already dead. The irony lies in the fact that a living man is confronted with evidence, in the form of a first-hand account, of his own burial.
This revelation unnerves Duck’s and the reader’s reality. The idea that a person can be both alive and dead at the same time creates an eerie, dreamlike quality that defies logic.
Example #2:
“He showed me the clothing, which I resolutely put on; the letters, which I put into my pocket.”
Normally, a person does not retrieve their own belongings from a grave. (Okay, maybe a few people have…) The irony is that Duck is reclaiming possessions that were taken from his supposed corpse.
The image of a man dressing in his own burial clothes evokes the unsettling trope of the undead. It blurs the boundary between life and death and reinforces the story’s supernatural quality.
Example #3:
”‘Bill Briscoe, did you really and truly bury the dead body that you found in these togs?’”
Duck himself questions whether he is truly alive or if he is an imposter. The irony is that he, too, is uncertain of his own identity.
This moment of self-doubt deepens the uncanny effect. If the protagonist is not sure he exists, the reader is left to wonder whether the world of the story follows the same rules as reality.
Example #4:
“A week later, I escaped from the guardhouse and got out of the country as fast as I could.”
Instead of being welcomed as a miraculous survivor, Duck is treated as an imposter and imprisoned. The irony is that survival, which should bring safety, instead leads to exile.
This final twist reinforces the idea that Duck does not belong in either the world of the living or the dead. He exists in an uncanny in-between state, a liminal existence, which is what makes the story so haunting.
Bierce’s use of irony in “A Man with Two Lives” forces the reader to confront an unsettling paradox: how can a man be alive when the world insists he is dead? Each moment of irony reinforces a disruption in reality and forces the reader to question whether Duck’s survival is a miracle, a mistake, or something supernatural.
The uncanny arises from this contradiction—Duck should be dead, yet he walks, talks, and even wears the clothes he was supposedly buried in. In this case, he walks like a Duck, talks like a Duck, looks like a Duck, but isn’t a Duck.
This blend of the ordinary (a soldier surviving an ambush) with the impossible (that same soldier having already been buried) is what makes the story linger in my mind long after I’ve finished reading. The lack of explanation amplifies the eeriness and leaves the reader with a feeling of unresolved dread.
Through these ironic twists, Bierce makes the impossible feel disturbing and, yet, logical and reinforces the story’s theme of fate’s unpredictability.
A few takeaways to consider when using irony in your writing.
Establish clear expectations from the start
Irony relies on subverting and playing with the audience’s expectations.
Set up a situation where the outcome seems predictable, then twist it in an unexpected way.
Make sure the use of irony serves the story’s theme
Irony should enhance the deeper meaning of the story, not just be a clever trick.
Ask: How does this use irony reinforce the emotional impact or ideas of the story?
Use situational irony to create the uncanny
The best uncanny stories use irony to blur the line between reality and the impossible.
Consider scenarios where normal logic is flipped and makes the familiar feel strange.
Balance irony with what’s believable
Irony should feel surprising but not random or forced.
The world of the story should have its own internal logic that makes the irony feel inevitable, believable.
Use dramatic irony to build tension
Give readers knowledge that the characters don’t have.
This creates suspense, humor, or tragedy as the audience anticipates the character’s mistake.
Let irony shape character development
How a character reacts to an ironic twist can reveal their true nature.
Do they embrace the absurdity? Fight against fate? Fall apart?
Leave something unexplained
Sometimes, not giving a full explanation makes the story more powerful.
The unsettling feeling that something is “off” lingers with the reader.
How does Bierce use unreliable narration to blur the lines between reality and the supernatural?
Bierce’s matter-of-fact narration lends authority to the events of the story—but should we trust it?
The narrator presents extraordinary occurrences as simple fact, yet there are subtle clues that suggest Duck’s experience may not be entirely true.
By using an unreliable narrator, Bierce invites the reader to question everything. Is this a ghost story? A story about mistaken identity? A fable?
The lack of clear answers is precisely what makes the story haunting.
Bierce uses the unreliable narrator to create an eerie, dreamlike uncertainty in “A Man with Two Lives.” The gaps in Duck’s memory, his own doubts about his identity, and the inconsistencies in his story make it impossible to determine whether his experience is supernatural or psychological.
Lapses in memory and delirium - Duck repeatedly acknowledges moments of unconsciousness, hallucination, and missing time. This makes it unclear whether his survival was miraculous or if he imagined key events.
Contradictory accounts - A soldier at Fort C. F. Smith believes Duck is dead and even buried him, yet he stands before him. The story never confirms whether the burial was a mistake or if Duck is something other than human.
A vanished location - Duck tries to return to the site of his “death” but can’t find it, suggesting either a supernatural event or that his mind has altered the memory.
By keeping the truth ambiguous, Bierce transforms a simple survival story into a haunting meditation on identity, fate, and the limits of human perception.
Readers are left wondering: Did Duck really die? Did he return as something else? Or is his mind playing tricks on him?
Example #1:
“It seemed as if I had hardly closed my eyes, though in fact it was near midday, when I was awakened by the report of a rifle…”
Duck loses track of time while hiding, suggesting disorientation or an altered state of awareness. His perception may be unreliable.
Time distortion creates a sense of the uncanny—did something supernatural happen, or was he simply unaware?
Example #2:
“I remember, rather indistinctly, that in my desperation and delirium I sprang out into the open and began firing my repeating rifle without seeing anybody to fire at.”
He admits to delirium, which casts doubt on his memory of events. If he was hallucinating, how much of his story can be trusted?
Duck’s frenzied state suggests a psychological breakdown, but the gap between this moment and his reappearance suggests something unexplainable happened.
Example #3:
“The next thing that I recollect was my pulling myself out of a river just at nightfall.”
There’s a major gap in the narrative—he doesn’t remember what happened between the ambush and waking up. This missing time adds to the mystery and raises questions about whether he truly “died” and returned.
The sudden shift from death to survival makes his story feel ghostly. Did Duck resurrect? Was he transported through supernatural means?
Example #4:
“Bill Briscoe, did you really and truly bury the dead body that you found in these togs?”
Duck questions his own identity, further blurring reality. If he himself doesn’t know whether he’s alive or dead, how can the reader be sure?
This moment forces the reader to confront the impossible: if his body was buried, what is he now? A ghost? A doppelgänger? A man who escaped death?
Example #5:
“Twice I have been back, seeking for that fateful spot in the hills, but unable to find it.”
The place where his supposed death occurred seems to have vanished. This implies either supernatural elements or a completely unreliable recollection of events.
The disappearance of the site suggests reality itself has shifted, as if the event never happened or existed in a space outside normal perception.
How to Use an Unreliable Narrator Effectively in Storytelling
An unreliable narrator can create suspense, deepen themes, and blur the lines between reality and perception. Here are some key strategies to consider when crafting one:
Establish the narrator’s credibility—then undermine it
Give the reader a reason to trust the narrator at first—perhaps they seem logical, observant, or authoritative.
Introduce small inconsistencies or oddities that make the reader question whether the narrator is telling the truth.
Use gaps in memory or awareness
Have the narrator experience blackouts, missing time, or confusion about events.
Let the reader piece together what really happened from context clues.
Make the narrator’s perceptions unstable
The narrator might see things others don’t—or fail to see things that should be obvious.
They might misinterpret situations.
Introduce conflicting testimonies and perspectives
Other characters can recall events differently than the narrator.
Readers must then decide who (if anyone) is telling the truth.
Create emotional blindsides and bias or personal stakes
A narrator might distort the truth to protect themselves, out of guilt, fear, or trauma.
They may be lying to themselves as much as they are to the reader.
Use a subtle, nuanced writing style that leaves room for interpretation
Avoid outright stating that the narrator is unreliable—let the reader feel the uncertainty.
Use ambiguous phrasing, contradictions, and open-ended conclusions. (Easier said then done.)
Make the unreliability support the story’s theme
If your story explores memory, trauma, fear, or supernatural elements, an unreliable narrator can reinforce those themes.
How does Bierce use structure and pacing to enhance the story?
Bierce’s economy of storytelling is one of his greatest strengths. In just three and a half pages, he presents a full life-and-death cycle…twice!
The pacing is tight and with almost no time for reflection or excess description. This brevity heightens the story’s impact and forces the reader to engage deeply with each moment.
This repetition suggests that his fate is locked, that he is destined to relive these moments. The structure itself becomes a tool for reinforcing the supernatural elements of the story.
Let’s explore how Bierce structured the story.
Frame narrative/story (Story is told by Duck, with an introduction establishing his reputation.)
“Here is the queer story of David William Duck, related by himself. Duck is an old man living in Aurora, Illinois, where he is universally respected.”
Establishes Duck’s credibility before immediately undercutting it with a bizarre, impossible tale. The frame also distances the reader, making them question whether the story is folklore, fact, or something in between.
A linear but fragmented chronology (Events unfold in order, but with gaps in Duck’s memory.)
“I remember, rather indistinctly, that in my desperation and delirium I sprang out into the open and began firing my repeating rifle without seeing anybody to fire at. And I remember no more of that fight.”
The gaps in memory create a sense of mystery and disorientation. Duck’s memory lapses increase tension and blur the line between reality and the supernatural.
Short, urgent sentences in action scenes
“I was awakened by the report of a rifle, the bullet striking the bowlder just above my body.”
“I had not gone a hundred yards before I reached the limit of my run—the head of the gulch.”
The clipped, fast-paced sentences mimic the speed of the action, immersing the reader in Duck’s frantic escape and raising the stakes.
Gradual unraveling of the mystery (Key details are revealed over time.)
“A week later, I escaped from the guardhouse and got out of the country as fast as I could. Twice I have been back, seeking for that fateful spot in the hills, but unable to find it.”
The story unfolds like a mystery, with the biggest reveal (Duck was supposedly buried) happening in the middle. Bierce delays the final conclusion, which allows the suspense to build as Duck attempts (and fails) to make sense of his fate.
Ambiguous ending that resists explanation
“Twice I have been back, seeking for that fateful spot in the hills, but unable to find it.”
The ending of the story leaves the reader questioning the nature of Duck’s existence. By not resolving whether he is a ghost, a survivor, or something else entirely, Bierce heightens the uncanny atmosphere and ensures the story lingers in the reader’s mind.
A few takeaways to consider when structuring your story.
Use frame narratives to add layers of doubt and distance.
Vary sentence length and pacing to control tension and immersion.
Withhold key details until later to create suspense and mystery.
Use ambiguous endings to leave a lasting impression on the reader.
Your Turn: Readers & Writers Workshop
Tool for Readers: Story Structure Breakdown
Goal: Readers will improve how to identify key moments and analyze how pacing impacts the reader’s experience. It’s especially useful for understanding how a writer builds suspense, delivers surprises, and controls the flow of action.
What it improves:
Understanding of story structure (exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, resolution)
Understanding of pacing and how it influences tone and reader engagement
Identifying narrative shifts and techniques that influence storytelling
How it works:
Step 1: Read the Story and Take Notes
As you read, highlight or jot down major plot points and key turning points in the story.
Pay attention to sudden shifts in time, tension, or narrative perspective—these often indicate important structural choices.
Identify sections where the pacing slows down (for suspense or description) vs. speeds up (for action or climax).
Step 2: Break the Story into Five Structural Stages
Using a chart or a timeline, divide the story into the following sections:
Exposition - Introduction of characters, setting, and initial conflict
Rising Action - Events that build tension and complicate the conflict
Climax - The moment of highest tension, the turning point
Falling Action - Consequences of the climax, leading to resolution
Resolution - How the story ends, whether it resolves neatly or ambiguously
Step 3: Analyze Pacing in Each Section
Look at how long or short each section is. Does the writer use long descriptive passages or quick, sharp sentences?
Identify places where the pacing slows down for suspense vs. speeds up for action.
Determine if the pacing aligns with the emotional intensity of the moment—does it heighten or undercut tension?
Step 4: Look for Structural Techniques that Enhance Impact
Does the story follow a traditional chronological structure, or does it use flashbacks, nonlinear storytelling, or other structural tricks?
Does the author manipulate time to mislead the reader?
How does the structure shape the reader’s expectations—and how does the story subvert them?
Step 5: Reflect on the Reader’s Experience
Ask:
How did the story’s structure influence your expectations?
Did the pacing affect how you engaged with the story?
What structural techniques could you apply to your own writing or look for in other stories?
Tool for Writers: Scene Revision Guide
Goal: Ensures each scene moves at the right pace for its purpose—whether it’s an action-packed moment, a suspenseful buildup, or a reflective pause.
What is improves:
Scene pacing (fast vs. slow sections)
Narrative tension and engagement
Sentence and paragraph structure for rhythm and flow
Alignment between pacing and emotional impact
How it works:
Step 1: Identify the scene’s purpose
Before revising pacing, determine what the scene is trying to accomplish:
Does it build tension?
Does it reveal key information?
Is it an action-driven or emotionally introspective moment?
Should it slow down to let the reader absorb details, or speed up to create urgency?
Step 2: Highlight sentence and paragraph length
Short, choppy sentences → Create fast pacing (great for action, urgency, surprise).
Long, descriptive sentences → Slow pacing (good for suspense, setting mood, reflection).
One-sentence paragraphs → Can create emphasis, making the reader pause.
Your turn:
Go through your scene and underline all short vs. long sentences.
Identify if your pacing matches the scene’s goal.
Step 3: Check for unnecessary pauses or rushed moments
Does the scene linger too long on details that slow momentum?
Is there a moment that needs to breathe, but the pacing rushes past it?
Where could a sentence break or paragraph shift increase emotional impact?
Your Turn:
Mark places where the pacing feels too slow or too fast.
Decide if details need to be trimmed, expanded, or repositioned.
Step 4: Adjust word choice for pacing
Action scenes → Use strong, active verbs (“dashed,” “lunged,” “grasped”)
Suspense scenes → Include sensory details and internal thoughts to slow things down
Emotional scenes → Use rhythmic, flowing sentences that mimic thought processes
Your Turn:
Rewrite 2-3 sentences in your scene using stronger verbs or varying sentence lengths.
Step 5: Read the Scene Aloud or Use a Timer
Reading aloud helps identify awkward pacing—does the rhythm feel natural?
Time yourself reading action scenes—should they be quicker?
Pause where a reader might naturally pause—should the pacing slow down or speed up?
Your Turn:
Record yourself reading the scene aloud.
Listen for pacing that feels off, and revise as needed.
Writing Prompt to Practice Hyperbole, Foreshadowing, and Tone
Ready to get lost for awhile? To wake up and not have any idea what’s going on? After reading and studying “A Man with Two Lives,” write a short, short scene using the same devices as Bierce.
Think about a character who wakes up in a familiar place, only to be told they have been dead for months. Your character could be from a book, movie, TV show, play, your own writing, or completely made up.
Every piece of evidence-newspaper obituaries, funeral records, and firsthand witness accounts—confirms their demise.
Yet, they remember everything about their last moments before “dying” and have no explanation for their return.
- How does your protagonist react to this impossible situation?
- Do they try to uncover the truth, or do they accept their second chance at life?
- Is there a supernatural explanation, a psychological breakdown, or a hidden conspiracy?
Include the following devices in your story.
Unreliable Narrator: Use unreliable narration to blur the line between reality and hallucination.
Irony: Incorporate situational irony—perhaps they find their own grave or meet someone who attended their funeral.
Structure and Pacing: Structure the story with pacing shifts to create
tension—slowing down in moments of self-doubt and speeding up during revelations.I created a Google Doc of the prompt for you to use as you wish, click HERE. Make sure to make a copy.
The End…Or Is It?
Fans of the TV show LOST or The Twilight Zone will love this story.
All those fantastical stories play with your sense of perception, of real and fake, of true or false. They capture our imagination and play with our minds in ways that other stories don’t.
Why?
I think it’s because life is inherently illogical, uncanny. Our memories fail us. Our identities change. Nothing makes sense (I see you elected officials). And I think stories that rely on unreliable narration and irony remind us that life is pretty fucked up…and that’s okay. It’s okay to accept the fact that no one has the answer and we’re all just making shit up as we go along.
There is one thing that I know to be true:
Like life, a good story is predictably unpredictable.
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To give aspiring writers the tools and techniques to build their confidence, find their voice, and write damn good stories