Monday, February 16, 2009

Motivated by Bitterness

My overly-simple definition of a novel is "a book with at least one four-dimensional character." In English, that means that at least one of a major character's three primary motivations changes over time. Bitterness is a powerful motivator, and it is one that needs to change unless you're writing a tragedy.

Bitterness is a black hole that sucks in all of life--but it makes for fabulous fiction. It's so easy to set up a story where the deepest and most desperate bitterness is justified. Our innate sense of justice makes us side with the wounded hero--we understand their pain and excuse their scars.

Bitterness sometimes looks like humility, from the outside. The bitter hero wins a great battle and then nobody can find him at the victory celebration--he is alone on the battlements, wrestling with unseen enemies that cannot be conquered.

A good example of how all this works in fiction is The Count of Monte Cristo. Edmond Dantes was a poor but honest sailor who was just about to marry the woman he loved and become captain of his own ship when three men conspired to betray and destroy him. He was falsely accused of treason and flung into the Chateau d'If, the notorious island prison in the harbor of Marseilles, doomed to rot his life away. But then, in the lonely darkness, an ancient priest tunneled his way into Emond's cell in his effort to escape. The priest, realizing he could never dig his way out, spent the rest of his days teaching the poor sailor all he knew--including the location of the fabulous fortune of Monte Cristo. When the priest dies and Edmond escapes, the stage is set for one of the greatest thrillers ever.

Alexender Dumas excelled at using bitterness as a motivator, yet he recognized the ultimate emptiness of revenge. Bitterness burns out the soul--it does not satisfy. The Count of Monte Cristo ends with Edmond's triumph, but his justice is tempered with mercy. He turns from wrath to a new and different life.

In my opinion, the end of the The Count is both right and wrong. Edmond's change at the end is too sudden. It is necessary, but inadequate. Bitterness is an addiction--it doesn't let go so suddenly. The only believable outcomes of addiction are tragedy or redemption. The Count got neither.

Dumas had the disadvantage of his times--his audience was not interested in tragedy or Christ. Those are the two appropriate ends of bitterness. We have the same disadvantage. Twenty-first century Americans aren't ready for reality when it comes to the bitter end of bitterness. That makes a book about a bitter hero easy to start and hard to finish.

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