Assignment 2: a closer look at a memorable character
Instructions: Find a character in a story that you’ve read before that you found compelling. This can be a main character, an antagonist, or even a secondary character. If it’s a short story, try to track it down and reread it. If it’s a novel, you can look at the way the character is introduced, or how he or she is portrayed in a crucial scene. Write a 2-3 paragraph analysis on the blog (comment under this post) on what makes that character compelling. You don’t have to provide a description of the story—just enough to get an idea of the character in the context of the story.
A character I found compelling in a novel I recently re-read was Gene Forrester, from A Separate Peace by John Knowles. Most people are familiar with the plot of the book, so I won’t go into too much detail in its description: set in a fictional representation of Exeter Academy (an all-boy’s boarding school) during World War II, A Separate Peace involves both typical adolescent boy struggles and those of young men coming of age during war. Gene is the protagonist and narrator, meaning that the reader gets a very in-depth look at how his head works, which usually invokes sympathy for the character. However, the plot of the story is driven by Gene’s suppressed jealousy for his best friend, the amiable and ridiculously athletic Finny, so Gene’s first significant act in the beginning of the novel is motivated by that jealousy and sets us up not to like him, but to pity him at best.
ReplyDeleteI think what makes Gene compelling to me (though repulsive to many of my friends) is that he’s a very realistic sketch of a stressed teenager struggling in a high-pressure, very peer-driven environment. Envy, which characterizes him, is an incredibly potent human emotion that’s difficult to portray without making the character in question seem trivialized or flat. It would be very easy to write “Gene was jealous of Finny and conspired to stop him from playing sports”— but that’s certainly not what happened, and that’s not what John Knowles writes. Gene is far from flat; like many of us, he takes a while to sort out and comprehend his own emotions, makes some terrible spur-of-the-moment decisions, and then has to deal with the consequences. Because the novel is in his point of view, if we read carefully enough, we can come to understand him as he comes to understand himself, and that’s the kind of writing that draws me to a character.
Gene is far from perfect, but he’s not a villain, either. He’s just a boy. I think in many cases—many, but not all—the characters we find compelling are the ones who could be sitting next to us on the subway, across the coffee shop, or in class; and for me, he's one of those characters.
Reginald Mason
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite characters is Reginald Mason of Mary Balogh’s A Matter of Class. Reginald is a mere mister in 19th century regency England. His father, bitter over his lack of position has spent much of his life feuding with his lordly neighbor, father of Lady Annabelle. Reginald is introduced as a dandy whose every action serves only to please himself. He has no ambition and is a leech off his father. When it comes out that Lady Anna has been ruined and must marry as soon as possible, Reginald’s father strikes an agreement and Anna and Reginald are betrothed, much to their dismay. Reginald pathetically whines and complains throughout the betrothal and all the way up the aisle, begrudgingly marrying her anyway as he was too afraid of being disowned to do anything but. He is rude and churlish to Anna, her father and his own father and she returns the favor. They are terribly selfish, spoiled and unbearable. Except it’s all a lie.
Spoiler alert: they planned it all along. The year before they fell in love, but knew they would never be allowed to marry so Reginald acted like a dandy and an ass. In a few paragraphs, Balogh undermines all previous reader impressions of Reginald and we see that his actions were false representations of his true character. Instead, he was loving, kind, and so in love his was willing to defame himself to marry Annabelle. Upon discovering this, I had to reread the book and was able to reinterpret Reginald’s actions and see that his true character traits were there all along. Reginald’s character was so surprising to me that I could not help but adore him despite the fact that I spent a good 200 pages begging for him to shut his mouth and go away.
Reginald had many hidden qualities that engaged the reader on a deeper level than I would have ever expected from a historical novella, which are usually brief and simple. His ability to surprise and completely undermine my first impressions made me love him and has made him a memorable character years after my first reading.
The character who first came to my mind was Roy Cohn of the play Angels in America, which I first read as literature (instead of seeing the play or the movie). One of the most memorable scenes with Roy is when he confronts his doctor, Henry, about whether Henry believes Roy is homosexual because he has AIDS. Roy tries to goad Henry, whom he has known for a very long time and is relatively close to, into admitting that the doctor believes that Roy is homosexual. Roy does this in order to make a larger point that whether Roy sleeps with men is irrelevant to his identity. I will always remember this particular line of dialogue:
ReplyDelete“Homosexuals are not men who sleep with other men. Homosexuals are men who in fifteen years of trying cannot get a pissant antidiscrimination bill through City Council. Homosexuals are men who know nobody and who nobody knows. Who have zero clout. Does this sound like me, Henry?”
I suppose since it’s a play, dialogue is obviously important, but not every character in this play is equally compelling to me. Roy’s dialogue is by far the the most expletive-laden and also the most frank. Roy has a strong personality and is always introducing tension into his interactions. Even interactions between Roy and his friends, like Henry, quickly escalate into pseudo-confrontations. I find dialogue particularly crucial for defining a compelling character, because it is really a great example of showing and not telling what a character is like. These five lines reveal so much about Roy’s personality and raise so many questions about what makes Roy that way. I would read an entire play just about Roy -- Roy calling President Reagan’s wife, Roy making theater reservations for his out-of-town guests, Roy arguing his way onto the list for an experimental AIDS medication. I think the most compelling characters are that way: it’s better to not know everything about them, and to have more questions, instead of having everything explained to you. Because then you always want to read more.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteBilly Pilgrim from Slaughterhouse Five
ReplyDeleteI am in the last few pages of my spring break book of choice, Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. I believe that Billy Pilgrim makes for a compelling character because the author writes in a way that convinces the reader to abandon their preconceived notions and sympathize with Billy and his conviction that Tralfamadore exists. At first, Billy emerges as a distant character, one that the reader struggles to understand. Aside from the unemotional disposition of the hero, Billy seems fantastical in his beliefs. The reader, like most of the family and friends around Billy, deeply doubt his sanity.
However, Vonegut comes to share Billy's adventures to Tralfamadore with us, making what was once seemed Billy's fabricated story to be a true reality. This shift is significant to me as it reminds me how we become more literal and matter of fact as we age. It is when we begin to let go of what "must be" that we begin to be open to other frames of mind and alternate ways of thinking. One is the Tralfamadorian notion that past moments were always and will be there. You can choose to revisit those past moments that evoke meaning, excitement and contentment because they remain accessible. This revelation, among others, was inspiring to me, and made me stop to think. Because Vonnegut tied this revelation closely to the character of Billy, his identity becomes a vehicle by which the author imparts crucial ideas in the story.
Crucially, it is what Billy represents, a plethora of provocative Vonnegut wisdom, that makes him memorable, not his personality. As Vonnegut alludes to in the beginning, Billy Pilgrim is unstuck in time, tying the character to the very subject he wants to challenge in the reader.
One of the most compelling characters I have ever encountered was the unnamed wife in Katharine Brush’s short story “Birthday Cake.” While the entire story was only four paragraphs long, I do not think I can ever forget the unnamed wife because of Brush’s careful descriptions of her physical traits and reactions to her husband’s embarrassment. The story reveals how troubled a marriage becomes when one spouse dominates over another in a relationship. Brush writes of a sweet and sensitive woman who invites her husband to a restaurant on his birthday. When she surprises her husband with a cake, the husband harshly reprimands her, and she begins to cry submissively.
ReplyDeleteFrom the beginning of the story, the woman is cast in a subservient, pitiful position. The first description of her we receive is that she is “fadingly pretty,” implying that she still retains a degree of youthful spirit. She is not “conspicuous” or “particularly noticeable” and the fact that she remains unnamed throughout the story made me feel that Brush intended to create her as a character that everyone could imagine himself in her position and feel deep sympathy for. The title is misleading because it connotes happiness, joy and celebration, but the opposite occurs as the woman becomes a victim of her own efforts.
We remember the wife’s behavior because it is contrasted starkly with the husband’s, and we eagerly anticipate the husband’s reaction to the cake as we watch the scene unfold. When we read of her “shy pride,” we also take delight in and feel invested in the success of the surprise. In contrast, when we read of the husband’s “hot embarrassment,” we are filled with indignation that his words are not grateful but “quick and uncurt and unkind.” Because we have all celebrated birthdays and planned surprises, we feel especially deep empathy for the wife, who cries “quietly and heartbrokenly and hopelessly, all to herself.” The wife is a compelling character because she is so vulnerable and weak. The powerful ending image of the “gay big brim of her best hat” only is a testament to the ultimately failed efforts she dedicated to planning the surprise, and we feel so uncomfortable that we dread reading the ending sentence and the fact that we cannot help her. We as readers find compelling characters who face great struggles that they do not deserve to go through.
I find the character Oscar from Junot Diaz’s The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao an incredibly compelling character. Oscar is introduced from the start of the novel, which is narrated by another character named Junior. We learn of Oscar’s transition from a cute, chubby boy to a nerdy, morbidly obese teenager—this transition is accompanied by frequent descriptions of Oscar’s immense sadness at his situation. Perhaps I find Oscar compelling because I identify with his fears—that no girls will like him, that other guys will find him nerdy and weird—but I know that his intense desire to belong is universally understood.
ReplyDeleteThe more I saw of myself in Oscar (the loneliness, the occasional helplessness), the more I wanted him to succeed by the end of the novel. But what makes Oscar compelling is that he never truly changes his lifestyle. He struggles to work out and makes some progress, giving hope to readers, but after a few days he quits and again falls into depression and cycles of binge eating. His failures are so poignant and painful because we can all identify with him, though perhaps to a lesser degree.
Finally, Diaz’s writing style, which is conversational and full of Spanish and American slang, adds authenticity and interest to the novel. Our view of Oscar isn’t from a detached, emotionless perspective, or even from his own point of view. Instead, we analyze Oscar from the perspective of the narrator, who actually slightly despises Oscar for his faults. Diaz constantly puts readers in a difficult spot, forcing them to evaluate Oscar’s life with either sympathy or derision and spurring intense self-reflection.
The first character that came to mind for this prompt is actually from a book I am still in the process of reading,The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Christopher John Francis Boone is introduced to us when he is found on the front yard holding a dead dog, and is blamed for the dog's death. As we get more into Christopher's mind, we realize that he is autistic. The style of this book is beautiful in how it relays this concept subtly without explicitly indicating Christopher's disorder. He explains how he dislikes metaphors because they're too complicated to think about, and how his counselor showed him smiley faces of emotions but some of them confuse him. The reader experiences one of the fits he has in the very first chapters when he punches a police officer.
ReplyDeleteMark Haddon took a risk with a character like Christopher, who in most cases readers may not directly be able to relate to. However, as the novel progresses we find ourselves relating to ideas such as "not fitting in" or " not being understood by those around you." These common themes allows the reader to sympathize with Christopher and realize that what others may call a "sickness", is actually something wonderful for him.
In short, Mark Haddon creates a compelling character because it is someone who we are originally expected to not relate to, but end up anyways. The character explains the difficulties of dealing with autism, without explicitly saying it's autism, as the story progresses so that we can paint a better picture of what its like to be in his shoes.
I am reading a book called Mrs. Kennedy and I have found that Mrs. Kennedy herself is a compelling character. The book talks about the Kennedy presidency from her perspective. I find her to be extremely compelling because of her relationship with her husband. The fact that she knew that her husband cheated on her, yet she continued to stay with him and remain loyal makes her compelling. I do not know of many women who know of their husbands affairs, yet remain with them still.
ReplyDeleteJackie Kennedy also knows the many girls that her husband is involved with yet she remains loyal and honorable to John. While she does struggle with the idea, she learns a lot about herself through the process and begins to embrace her relationship with her husband. Without her, there would not be much of a story, or at least not as a compelling story. It is super interesting to learn about the Kennedy presidency through the eyes of his wife.
When I first read this assignment, I immediately thought of Mariam from A Thousand Splendid Suns. Actually, I could not even remember her name, but vividly remembered the final "Act" so to speak of the book. I will not describe it here for fear of giving away the book, but the reason I found it so compelling was that a character who been a victim throughout the novel created space to act of her own volition.
ReplyDeleteStarting at the end of the book, I began moving backwards until I recalled the introduction. The novel opens describing a young girl living in a forsaken home with her mother, because her father refused to acknowledge the woman and daughter of his illicit relationship. From the outset, Mariam is portrayed as a victim of patriarchy. However, her character is developed so as to produce sympathy towards her plight and not frustration over her meekness. This deeply imbedded sympathy makes the moment in which Mariam acts of her own accord all the more profound. I think that I grew attached to Mariam, because of my deep sympathies towards her and then her unexpected defiance at the end of the novel. Furthermore, Mariam's character was contrasted with another female character that further accentuated the personalities of each.
Rebecca from Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
ReplyDeleteIn Rebecca, the title character never makes her own appearance because she has died before the story has begun. Rather, her intrigue is created through the perspectives of other characters – the way they speak – or don’t speak – about her; the way they think of her; the way they remember her.
Her first mention arrives through the voice of the housekeeper, who criticizes the narrator for raising a household concern – “There were no complaints when Mrs. de Winter was alive.” Immediately, we think back to the time “when Mrs. de Winter was alive.” We wonder of her character, and of how she ran her household flawlessly in the eyes of the housekeeper. Rebecca is shrouded in mystery – we learn that ever since her death, her rooms are still cleaned daily yet left untouched. The narrator is afraid to even venture into her predecessor’s territory. As her rooms, Rebecca herself is untouchable – she is someone addictively captivating, someone whose mysterious and unexplainable death only adds to her intrigue.
The narrator’s soft nature juxtaposed with Rebecca’s haunting presence adds to the latter’s mystery. We never even know the narrator’s name – she is only referred to as Mrs. de Winter, and though she provides the voice of the novel, it is Rebecca who leaves a lasting impression.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite characters is Lyra Belacqua from His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman. She's a hugely flawed character--in particular, she loves and excels at lying, and she has very little compunction about hurting strangers. She's got tremendous curiosity and a tendency to act quickly based on her flawed moral compass. She starts out pretty far from thoughtful about her identity and her place in the world.
ReplyDeleteBut Lyra also has the extremely rare ability to reader an instrument called the alethiometer, which allows the user to understand The Truth. Pullman creates a wonderful tension between Lyra "Silvertongue," the preternaturally gifted liar, and the Lyra who can use the rarest of tools in the rarest of ways to share what is true in the world with the people around her. One of my favorite lines of characterization is this: "And now that she was doing something difficult and familiar and never quite predictable, namely lying, she felt a sort of mastery again, the same sense of complexity and control that the alethiometer gave her."
Pullman writes Lyra so that she can drive the plot without losing any of her characteristics. If she makes confusing decisions, they're confusing to her, not to the reader. If she's expository, it's because she's making sense of her surroundings, and the reader isn't bored. She isn't introspective, but she doesn't need to be--her actions speak to the reader themselves.
The first character that comes to mind is Death in Markus Zusak's The Book Thief. The novel, on a basic level, is about a young girl and her family growing up in World War II. However, what makes it so compelling is that the story is narrated by Death himself. By personifying death, Zusak calls us to reexamine the Holocaust from a markedly new perspective; who, really, would best know it's horrors than the one doing the "clean up work"? Ultimately, the bulk of the story details the little girl's journey; however, Death's sometimes humorous and often dark narration frames and completes the piece.
ReplyDeleteWhat makes Death most compelling as a character is that, despite the fact that he is, well, death, he is an amiable narrator. He's funny. He's eloquent. He's kind. A reader can actually sympathize with this abstract concept of "Death" and is forced to reconsider how to view mortality in a more concrete context. My favorite part of the book is Death's final reflection (sorry - small spoiler if you haven't read it), where he concludes that he is "haunted by humans".
An example of a compelling character was Ralph from "At World's End". You follow Ralph as one of four main characters throughout childhood and into adulthood. Since he childhood, you realize he is just malicious. He's not cunning or manipulative, he is just plain old violent, selfish, and ambitious. It is made worse by the fact he is knight in the Middle Ages and is built extremely strong.
ReplyDeleteWhat I find so compelling about him is that throughout the novel, he performs evil acts and just as repercussions are about to be given to him, he ends up landing on his feet. He causes psychological trauma to two other main characters and a plethora of minor characters. This urge to always want to see him die, be saved at the last minute, cause ruin, and have the urge increase, the villain you love to hate is what makes him so compelling to me.