Tag: sympathy

Why I couldn’t finish Gone with the Wind

For the past month or so, I’ve been on a Civil War kick. I watched the movie Gettysburg to celebrate July 4th, read Gods and Generals, wrote a short story about a time traveler at Gettysburg, and have been listening to a lot of Civil War music as I write. One of the books I decided to give a shot was Gone With the Wind, that classic American novel that’s tied so closely with the Civil War.

It’s definitely a good book. There were parts of it that I really enjoyed, such as the perspective of the people of Atlanta as Sherman’s troops got steadily closer. The poverty of the plantation owners after Sherman’s march to the sea provided a stark contrast to the pompous gaiety of society before the war. You definitely get a sense of what it means to be Southern while reading the book–it’s surprising how similar some things are to the way they were. And just in general, the sheer sense of immersion that the novel gives you is just incredible. It’s rare that I’m sucked into a world as thoroughly as I was sucked into the quiet charm of the antebellum South and the frenzied optimism of Confederate Georgia.

The real shock to me was that I could enjoy the book even as I hated the main characters. Scarlett is a bitchy, stuck-up brat–an entitled rich white girl who cannot comprehend that the world does not revolve around her. Rhett Butler isn’t nearly as stuck-up as she is, but he is an arrogant jerk who sneers at other people, profits from their misfortune, and hides his cowardice with his biting cynicism.

The fact that I enjoyed reading about them even though I disliked them so much is a testament to the fact that not every character needs to be likable. Even thought Scarlett really peeved me off, I still found her fascinating because I felt like I really understood her. Margaret Mitchell does an excellent job of getting you into her characters’ heads and showing where they come from. In some ways, I felt that I understood Scarlett better than she understood herself.

But I have to be honest–from page one, I was only interested in Scarlett for the schadenfreude. I already knew how the story ends, with those classic lines “frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” and “tomorrow is another day.” If I’d been waiting instead for Scarlett to experience a growth arc (and she really does start in an excellent place for one), I probably would have thrown the book across the room much sooner.

The part that made me stop reading–and yes, this will spoil the book–was the part where Scarlett steals Frank Kennedy, her sister’s fiance, in order to get the money to save Tara. She’s so singly focused on saving the plantation (Tara) that she’s willing to backstab her own family, who ought to matter a lot more to her than a house and a spot of land. Yes, I understand that it was entirely in her character to do that, but when she actually betrayed her sister like that, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I skipped to the last chapter, had my juicy moment of schadenfreude, and returned the book to the library.

I had a lot more sympathy for everyone who locked horns with Scarlett (except for Rhett) than I ever did for Scarlett herself. The O’Hara overseer who gets fired in the first or second chapter for making the poor Slattery girl pregnant–I didn’t think it was noble for him to try and steal Tara through his postwar connections, but I could see why he’d do it. He probably didn’t feel like he could marry the Slattery girl because the O’Hara’s weren’t paying him enough. Even if they were, the fact that he married her showed that at least he was trying to set things right. And though I didn’t admire the way he went about trying to get his revenge, a part of me wanted him to succeed.

My favorite character was probably Melanie. As soon as she showed up on the page, I liked her, and as the story progressed, I came to actively admire her. Ashley, too, was a very interesting character to me–his thoughts on the war and on the passing of the old way of life were fascinating. But I could never really respect him, because it was always so easy for Scarlett to manipulate him.

And even though Rhett wasn’t so prone to Scarlett’s machinations, I still couldn’t respect him because he was always such an ass to everyone. It’s not that he wasn’t a gentleman–there were plenty of gentlemen in the book who were jerks, and plenty of men who weren’t gentlemen who were still good people. The thing was, Rhett was just never a good person to anyone except Melanie, and throughout the book, that never changed.

I guess the takeaway here is that it’s almost impossible to have any sympathy for a character who treats their friends and family like garbage. For me, at least, if a character constantly betrays the people who are closest to them, I really want nothing to do with them. But I guess that’s just me–judging from the success of Gone With the Wind, I guess I can’t generalize that at all.

I don’t know. What do you guys think?

Trope Tuesday: Pet the Dog

Awwwww!!

The basic principle behind this trope is that when you want your readers to feel some kind of sympathy toward a character, have them pet a puppy / puppy equivalent.  Often used to show who the good guy is, but can also be used to add depth to a villain.

I first learned about this trope in Brandon Sanderson’s English 318 class, where he taught it as a way to build immediate sympathy when introducing a major character.  A good example from his own work is Mistborn, where Kelsier’s first scene shows him giving the manor lord’s food to the skaa.  From that moment on, there’s never really any doubt that Kelsier is the good guy.

Although often used to introduce a good guy, this trope can also be used quite effectively in the middle of the story, especially in a gray and black world where it seems that everyone’s a bad guy.  A good example of this is Shadow from American Gods, who flips a coin with a hitchhiker to see who pays for dinner.  Even though he’s a thief and an ex-convict, he rigs the coin toss so that he can pay for her.  Through little gestures like this, Gaiman maintains rooting interest in his protagonist, even though everyone else in the novel is basically a jerk.

Another good example from a darker work is Angelo Osic from On My Way to Paradise.  On the very first page, a fugitive shows up at his pharmacy booth, asking him to grow her a new hand.  Even though he knows it’s dangerous, he takes her in and does what he can to help her.  Later on, this same character rips out a man’s testicles and guts him like a fish.  As repulsive as that is, however, I still keep rooting for him because I know that at his heart, he’s a good person.

Of course, when used most effectively, the pet-a-puppy moment has to grow naturally out of a person’s character.  Even though Shadow is an ex-con, he served his time and feels genuinely sorry for what he did.  Angelo Osic is a doctor, so it’s natural for him to try to help others; whenever he commits an act of violence, a part of his humanity dies, which becomes a major driving conflict throughout the book.

Don't. Touch. Me.

Finally, though this trope is often used to create rooting interest in a protagonist, it can also be used to add depth to a villain.  A prime example for this is Captain Nemo from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  The first moment happens when he rescues the main characters after their ship sinks, but it happens many more times too, such as when Arronax finds him weeping over a picture of his family.  At the end of the book, even though we know that Nemo is the bad guy, we can’t help but feel a little sorry for him after he’s gone.

Puppy image courtesy Wikimedia.  Cat image taken by me.

How do you write a character who is shy?

The writing is a little sporadic these days, but it’s coming along.  I’ve broken out of my most recent block, and progress is coming along on WAFH…or at least it was, when I didn’t have a temp job sucking up most of my time during the day.

Still, can’t complain about work–and even though all the job interviews from a couple weeks ago seem to have lead nowhere, I’ve got a few new opportunities opening up that seem promising.  More on those later.

One of the more challenging aspects of WAFH is writing the main female protagonist, Mira Najmi.  Mira is something of a shy pushover, who gradually learns to stand up for herself and make her own independent decisions.

Because of this, I find it difficult to write from her point of view.  When she isn’t letting people walk all over her, she’s either homesick and depressed or following others without making any real decisions for herself.  And yet, in order for her growth arc to work, this is the point at which she needs to start out; her gradual change into a strong and independent woman is a major part of the book.

In short, how do I make a shy, self-effacing protagonist sympathetic and interesting while remaining true to her character?

(Before I go further, I should note that Mira does have strengths.  She has a caring, nurturing personality, and is sensitive to the needs of others.  She often notices the little things that go right over the male protagonist’s head.  Besides that, she’s basically a good person, with a pure heart and an aversion to causing hurt or injury.  Oh, and she’s stunningly beautiful–though in some ways, that’s more of a handicap than a strength.)

Thus far, my strategy has been to delve into her internal monologue when in her viewpoint and try to make her underlying motivations clear.  I suspect it goes beyond that, though.  The best thing I can probably do is make her relatable to the audience–to make her shy in ways that make the readers feel like she’s one of them.

But that’s difficult for me, because I’m not a very shy person and I don’t generally relate well with people who are.  So how can I get a better understanding of what it’s like?  Do you guys have anything that you can share with me that would help me to understand?  Any tips or techniques for writing similar characters?

(image taken from http://webpages.scu.edu/ftp/lgrove/resign%20splashpage.htm)