The layers of narration in "Rip Van Winkle" convey a doubtful but curious mood about the hidden truths of folklore. Sir Geoffrey Crayon, Irving's fictional traveler who is compiling "Rip Van Winkle" and other stories into his Sketchbook, knows that the supernatural aspect of the tale makes it seem far-fetched. He tries to convince the reader to entertain that the tale might be true and worth taking seriously:
The foregoing Tale, one would suspect, had been suggested to Mr. Knickerbocker by a little German superstition... The subjoined note, however, [...] shows that it is an absolute fact, narrated with his usual fidelity: “The story of Rip Van Winkle may seem incredible to many, but nevertheless I give it my full belief, for I know the vicinity of our old Dutch settlements to have been very subject to marvelous events and appearances."
Sir Geoffrey has trouble proving the origin of the story. He emphasizes the fact that Knickerbocker, the scholar who supposedly recorded "Rip Van Winkle," attested to its truth. Because Irving had written a fake history of New York under Knickerbocker's name, the reader understands that the scholar isn't the most reliable source of "absolute fact." Nevertheless, the reader has a certain degree of trust that Sir Geoffrey has included tales in his Sketchbook that in some way represent the places he has traveled. The reader, suspended between doubt and belief, is left to sort through ways in which a made-up or embellished story might accurately depict a local region.
The feeling that folklore is part of authentic cultural history makes the reader nostalgic for cultural history that has been lost. One moment of anxiety about this loss occurs when Rip hears that not only has his neighbor Nicholas Vedder died during his 20-year absence, but also that his tombstone no longer bears his epitaph:
“Nicholas Vedder! Why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that’s rotten and gone too.”
The rotten tombstone demonstrates that even writing is impermanent. While the modern world may be inclined to believe written records over oral storytelling, the story poises the reader to feel a pang for all the cultural history, written and spoken alike, that is doomed to slip out of collective memory if not regularly shared with others.
