Pages

Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Villain (Part II)


Previously on “The Bookworm”: The bookworm planned to write a single blog post on four different types of villains, but got carried away with her nerdy muse, and we’ve hence reached part two of what we can only assume will be a very long series. She has covered the psychopath and now begins to translate her thoughts on the second villain, the fallen angel.

The Fallen Angel:

This villain was once a good-guy, but really the title I’ve given him (“him” because most villains do tend to carry that pesky Y chromosome) is really too dramatic. Though it would make him more compelling, he doesn’t have to begin as a hero. In fact, he usually doesn't. All that really has to happen is something tragic. Maybe his misdiagnosis killed a patient who for the sake of the character’s grief and guilt was a small child, a young mother, or a young, pregnant mother to make him really lose it. Maybe his parents were murdered in front of him, but he just wasn’t rich enough to become Batman. Notice a theme here? The answer is death.

On that note, the perfect example is King Galbatorix from Christopher Paolini’s hard-core-nerds-only-fantasy series The Inheritance Cycle (Eragon is the first book, if that rings any bells). Galbatorix was always rebellious in that spunky-teenager sort of way, but he is not innately evil . After his beloved young dragon dies in a rather unnecessary battle of his doing, he snaps, sparks a rebellion, takes control, and becomes the ruthless, wicked ruler we are introduced to in the first book. His development stops there.

I also place Lord Voldemort in this category, but he’s not a perfect match. In an interview, J.K. Rowling pointed out that the love Harry Potter gets from his parents in his first year of life is what saves him from becoming evil like Tom Riddle, who grew up without his parents and without any love. Though he does seem to become quite evil quite early in his childhood, I’ve placed Lord Voldemort in this category as an angel who fell too quickly, because there is no way a newborn baby comes out evil, regardless of what the screaming, slimy, blood-bathed thing resembles (is it horrible that I always use demonic imagery to describe infants?). Pretty much, once that pacifier got taken away, Tom Riddle becomes evil and stays that way.

Sometimes the villain was once a hero, though, like in Tamora Pierce’s Beka Cooper series. I’d like to say that I’m concealing this villain’s name and the events causing the fall to avoid spoiling it for any prospective readers, but really it’s just because thinking about it makes me too flustered to be coherent (because, you know, what you’ve been reading here is all very coherent). That’s because when a fallen angel starts as a hero, the fall is a usually a betrayal. As a far too emotionally invested reader, I carry a heavy bias towards this particular point, but I don’t think the fall of said villain is effective. I’m  going to make this point later when I discuss reformed villains (counting down the seconds, aren’t you?), but I think it’s next to impossible to completely change a character’s moral standing from strictly just to selfishly evil.

To conclude, the fallen angel becomes a villain after some sort of tragic circumstance, that more likely than not is death, which spurs the reader's strongest sympathy. Though their tragedies make them realistic, I find that these villains are typically less compelling than others, because the author uses tragedy as an excuse for what often is a very flat and very evil character. To be continued...

Thursday, October 4, 2012

The Villain (Part I)


It would probably make more sense to have the discussion on heroes before that of villains, but seeing as I ended the last post pondering on a more nefarious perceptive, I am dedicating this series to the bad-guys.

We may hope that good defeats evil by the end of the book, but let’s face it: sometimes the villain beats the hero as far as popularity’s concerned. Is it because their exhibition of unrestrained darkness is so attractive to our own repressed ids in some rewarding, sadistic way, all the while assuring the ego that our virtue is boundless compared to their standards? Or may the hero you’re reading is just plain boring. Either way.

There’s an infinite number of stories out there, and there are different types of villains to serve each story’s purpose. I’m going to divide that infinity (good thing this blog’s too right-brained for math) into four basic villains: the psychopath, the fallen angel, the self-proclaimed hero, and the reformed one.

The Psychopath:
This is the guy that made you afraid of the dark when you were a kid (or a young adult with a far too active imagination for her own good). This is the guy who will always choose wrong over right and enjoys it beyond the human ethical capacity.

Actually, the first fictional psychopath to come to mind isn’t a guy. If you have ever read the Harry Potter series, you remember Bellatrix Lestrange, and more importantly you remember how much you wanted that witch (and when I say “witch”…) to die. She was powerful, devoted to evil, and absolutely out of her mind.

Another is Jim Moriarty. No, the bookworm is not talking about the one from the Sherlock Holmes books as her name would imply, but the villain from BBC’s Sherlock television series. Yes I know this is the second time I’ve mentioned this series on my book blog, but I can’t help it. Anyway, if you were to open a thesaurus to the word “evil,” you would find his picture next to “stay the hell away from me.”

I think the psychopathic villain is really hard to pull off, because really it’s about as compelling the hero who can do no wrong.  But Bellatrix and Moriarty the exceptions (that I can currently think of).

The reason Bellatrix works so well is because she is not the primary villain of the series. It’s Voldemort’s (that’s right, I said it) job to be realistic. Second, she really makes the reader angry. We all know Voldemort is evil because we are informed so, but we don’t see him take action often. Even when he kills, it’s usually just a quick Avada Kedavra, whereas Bellatrix tends to torture the sanity out of her victims: it’s the difference between a single bullet to the head and a stabbing. Lastly, whenever Bellatrix enters a scene, you just know someone else isn’t leaving it alive.

Moriarty takes on a different side of the psychopath. Where Bellatrix is impulsive, Moriarty is cunning. In fact, he’s more frightening than Bellatrix: if Bellatrix wants you dead, it’s going to happen right then and there (you know, after a few Crucios), but if Moriarty wants you dead, the anticipation will drag on for months. You are part of his master plan, waiting for your world to crumble upon you at this toying whim.

To conclude, the psychopath exists to scare the living daylights out of you. What a jerk! To be continued…