Load-Bearing Elements — Characterization

Oh, so we're actually doing a blog today?

Well, yeah. . . . why wouldn't we?

I mean, it's New Year's Eve, I figured after last week you'd find some bullshit excuse to get out of posting for another week.

While it would be a lie to say that I hadn't considered it, it was more along the lines of skipping last Monday and this Monday and then posting on the Thursdays.

Whatever. Did you have a good Christmas?

I did. Thank you. What about you?

Well, as a rhetorical device I generally don't observe holidays. With the exception of Isocrates's birthday.

Isocrates?

He was an ancient Greek rhetorician, I was making a joke.

Well, we don't have time for jokes.

I'm pretty sure that's a lie.

Anyway, we haven't done a Load-Bearing Elements since. . . let me check. . . DECEMBER THIRD!

I told you you'd been skimping on the work.

Well, it's time to rectify that by talking about characters and, more importantly, Characterization.

Are we scraping the bottom of the barrel?

‾\_(ツ)_/‾. What I do know is that characters are an important part of forging an emotional connection with the reader. It's true that you can compensate for weak Characterization with a strong plot, but if there's anything that I learned from Books That Made Me Cry, it's that good characters draw you in. You might start to identify with them, or root for them, or hope that they get their comeuppance.

I gotcha. So, are we gonna talk about different types of characters or just jump right into examples.

Well, let's use our examples as a springboard for discussing different types of characters.

So, knowing what I know about you, and about this feature, we're starting off with some sort of classic, assigned reading type book, aren't we?


I'm nothing if not a creature of habit.

Yep! So, out of curiosity, is it possible to make it through the American public school system without at least the expectation that you've read To Kill a Mockingbird?

Maybe. But for argument's sake, let's say that it isn't.

Well, characters are usually defined by where they lie along two spectra: round vs flat and dynamic vs static. So, let's look at some of the characters in To Kill a Mockingbird to see what we're talking about.

We're starting with Atticus Finch, right?

Yes and no. We're starting both with Atticus Finch and Scout Finch (or Miss Jean Louise Finch, depending on who you ask). Both father and daughter are what we might call round or three-dimensional characters. Upon completing the novel, a reader could say that they know them quite well and that they are fully-realized people. Now, both of these characters are viewed through the lens of the novel's viewpoint.

You mean the narration of an older Jean Louise Finch.

Yes. Both characters are viewed from the perspective of an adult trying to communicate the ways in which she saw the world as a child. This is why we never really see Atticus as a fallen figure, despite the fact that he fails in his efforts to have Tom Robinson acquitted and to keep Jem and Scout from the unpleasant reality of racism (well, apparently the recently publish/discovered sequel/companion novel Go Set a Watchman complicates Atticus's motivations, but you know, I haven't read that). We see him through the eyes of an adoring daughter. However, that said, Lee does provide us with information that Scout doesn't understand as a child and comes to understand as an adult that helps to present us with a clearer picture of Atticus's character than we might otherwise have if the novel were narrated while she was still a child. And having Scout as the viewpoint character means that we can't help but get to know her. They are however, different in a key way: Atticus is static and Scout is dynamic.

Whoa! Are you saying something negative about my fictional role-model and father-figure?

No, the static vs dynamic spectrum has to do with the ways in which the events of a story change or don't change a character. Would you say that Atticus is a different person at the end of the novel than he is at the beginning?

I see where you're going with this. No.

No, he isn't. Scout, on the other hand, matures a great deal as the story progresses. And it's not just because she goes from being almost six to being almost nine, it's because the events of the novel change her perspective on the world and her place in it. While the narration makes it clear that Scout still has some growing up to do, you can easily imagine her growing into the voice that's been telling the story since the beginning.

So, then what about flat characters?

What about. . . Oh! we haven't really talked about them, have we. Well, flat characters are often minor characters. People that we don't really get to know. They're largely defined by their role in the narrative. Like say, Heck Tate or Reverend Sykes. They're both types, really. Not that they're poorly written characters, but they are ancillary to the main action of the plot and aren't as fleshed out.

Quick question: are we gonna talk about the fact that in a novel about racism in America the most fully developed black character is the white family's domestic?

Well, I would characterize that as a failing of the novel's. Though it does show that Scout would have had little to no exposure to black viewpoints in her day-to-day life.

So, a static character can be round, but could a flat character be dynamic?

Well, that's a good question. That dynamism might threaten to start rounding them out. Though, I suppose that a poorly written character who suddenly begins to behave differently during the course of the novel could be said to be both flat and dynamic.  I can't think of any examples though.

Fair enough. 

So, want to just talk about books or stories with great characters?

All right, but you're not gonna lead with The Un—

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! Yes I am! Ryan North doesn't just use humor and pathos to make his heroes into real people, he even does this for villains like Kraven the Hunter and even Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds.

Fine. What about The Brothers Karamazov? Sure, the characters are largely defined by their philosophical outlooks, but they are undeniably memorable.

Agreed. Or True Grit: Mattie Ross, Rooster Cogburn, and LaBoeuf are all wonderfully cantankerous creations on the part of Charles Portis.

I'll agree to that. Do you want to wrap this up with one more?

Sure. Let's talk about The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison. It's a bildungsroman about the half-goblin son of the ruler of a clockpunk elvish empire who finds himself on the throne after a tragic airship accident.

Airships aren't clockpunk!

Whatever, anyway, the novel is almost completely plotless, because what it's really about is Maia's journey from court outsider to confident ruler (spoilers?). In any case, Maia is proof that while your protagonist doesn't have to be likable, it doesn't hurt. Shit! We didn't even talk about whether characters need to be likable.

The other titles discussed in this blog, in order of discussion and height. Accidental, I swear.

That sounds like more of a Hey, Hypothetical Reader! anyway.


You're right! Ideas for content, ho!

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