My friend, Michael Neff of Algonkian Writer Conferences, asked me to post one of my favorite articles by him on the subject of great fiction writing and I chose this one from Author Salon:
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A SMART DOSE OF ANTAGONISTIC FORCE
Antagonists Who Light The Drama and Transform Writing Into Great Literature
Links:
The 50 Greatest Villains
Comment by Barbara Kyle
Antagonists are often the most memorable characters
in literature, without whom many of the best selling novels of all time
would simply cease to exist, their supporting beams cut away, the shell
of remaining "story" quietly imploding to ignominy and self-publication
... And consider the impact on a scene, any scene, as soon as the
author moves the particular chess piece of antagonist onto the page. The
mere presence of a Javert from "Les Misérables," Assef from "The Kite
Runner," or even Marilla from "Anne of Green Gables," immediately
energizes the environment. The narrative and dialogue literally crackle
and groan with antagonist.
- Michael Neff
What chances do you as a writer have of getting your novel
manuscript, regardless of genre, commercially published if the story and
narrative therein fail to meet reader demands for sufficient suspense,
character concern, and conflict? Answer: none. But what major factor
makes for a quiet or dull manuscript brimming with insipid characters
and a story that cascades from chapter to chapter with tens of thousands
of words, all of them combining irresistibly to produce an audible
thudding sound in the mind, rather like a fist hitting a side of cold
beef?
Such a dearth of Élan vital in narrative and story frequently
results from the unwillingness of the writer to create a suitable
antagonist who stirs and spices the plot hash. And let's make it clear
what we're talking about. By "antagonist" we specifically refer to an
actual fictional character, an embodiment of certain traits and
motivations who plays a significant role in catalyzing and energizing
plot line(s), or at bare minimum, in assisting to evolve the
protagonist's character arc (and by default the story itself) by
igniting complication(s) the protagonist, and possibly other characters,
must face and solve (or fail to solve).
Writers new to the fiction game often shy away from creating an effective antagonist.
If you are an editor, you see this time and time again. But why? Is it
because they can't accept that a certain percentage of cruel and selfish
humans are a reality of life? Is it because they live in an American
bubble surrounded only by circumstances that reinforce their Rockwellian
naivety? Do they not watch Bill Moyers, or Sixty Minutes, or even a
shred of film footage from the latest repressions of the downtrodden by
tyrannical government forces? Or is it because they don't understand the
requirements of good dramatic fiction (no good guy without a bad
guy, folks)? Or some combo thereof? Whatever. Though you would think
after watching hundreds of films (even comedies) and reading God knows
how many novels they might catch on. And this doesn't mean they have to
reinvent the black hat cowboy. We're talking about prime movers of
social conflict and supreme irritation that come in wide variety of
forms, from relatively mild to pure evil.
Antagonists are often the most memorable characters in literature,
without whom many of the best selling novels of all time would simply
cease to exist, their supporting beams cut away, the shell of
remaining "story" quietly imploding to ignominy and self-publication.
And what drives these antagonists? Whether revenge, zealotry, ruthless
ambition, hubris or just plain jealousy, the overall effect on the
narrative and plot in general is identical, i.e., a dramatic condition
of complication (related to plot) and concern (related to character)
infuses the story.
True drama demands they exist. Imagine ANTIGONE
without the dictator to stir her into plot. And consider the impact on a
scene, any scene, as soon as the author moves the particular chess
piece of an antagonist onto the page. The mere presence of a Javert from
Les Misérables, Assef from The Kite Runner, or even Marilla from Anne of Green Gables, immediately energizes the environment. The narrative and dialogue literally crackle and groan with antagonist.
Below we see five antagonists from very different novels--all
multimillion sellers (and successful films)--also noting their vital
roles in the development of the story. Consider them ranked from
sufficiently annoying to real pricks.
First, but not worst, we have Marilla Cuthbert from ANNE OF GREEN GABLES.
Author Lucy Maud Montgomery intended for Marilla to be a source of
tension and obstacle for Anne, not a plot-swinging major like the four
mentioned below. You might call her, an "antagonistic force" or
temporary antagonist, remaining an irritant long enough to provide verve
to the story and suitable growth arc to the protagonist.
Marilla begins as a woman with the personality of a falling guillotine.
Only a barely perceptible sense of humor shows itself. Marilla’s state
of being clashes markedly with Anne’s romanticism and imagination. She
scolds and criticizes Anne, and like Javert of Les Misérables, is
equally harsh on herself. Even when she finds herself agreeing with
Anne's brazen thoughts, she rebukes herself, and whenever she feels a
fleeting rush of affection, she quickly suffocates it. Later, she
changes, but she played her role long enough to help keep the reader on
the page while at the same time provoking the evolution of Anne's
character.
And what decent discussion of antagonists in literature fails to comment on the role of Tom Buchanan in THE GREAT GATSBY? Tom falls fourth on the intensity list. He
doesn't qualify as a dangerous zealot or a vengeful junkyard-zilla, but
without Tom's endearing personality, Fitzgerald's novel of love and
loss falls to pieces.
Playing
in a love triangle that includes his wife, Daisy, and Jay Gatsby, the
wealthy Buchanan displays himself time and time again as an arrogant and
bullying schmuck, enough that by the time Fitzgerald needs us to cheer
for Jay, and desire freedom for Daisy, we are more than ready to do so.
In comparison to Buchanan, Jay Gatsby, despite his faults, appears like a
Lancelot, while Daisy, despite her shallowness, becomes the distressed
damsel. If Buchanan did not exist, or if Fitzgerald had depicted him as a
decent fellow, the faults of Jay and Daisy would have burned in high
relief, and as readers, our sympathy for them would be zero.
Fitzgerald's only chance would have been to render them both irrevocably
detestable, as Emile Zola did for his murderous couple in THERESE RAQUIN--so
much so that as a reader you turn the page in hopes they will both soon
be wearing prison orange (or whatever color of rag they wore in those
days).
Next comes the infamous Javert of LES MISERABLES
by Victor Hugo. Unlike the first two antagonists, Javert's primary flaw
might be defined as dogged zealotry, and at times, he behaves as hard
on himself as on others. After the character Valjean, a victim of
mistaken identity, appears in court and loses both his business and his
position in Montreuil-sur-mer, he escapes long enough to hide his
fortune. He spends more time in prison, working aboard a ship.
Eventually he escapes again and retrieves the character Cosette from the
evil Thenardiers. Then begins a decade of hiding, moving from place to
place, always staying just ahead of the implacable Javert. Will Valjean
save the farm and live to tell the story? Are we not concerned enough
for brave Valjean that we want to know?
Regardless, no Javert equals far less misery, and what else? ... No story.
A close second to Assef below, for reasons of sheer despicableness, is good ole boy Bobby Ewell of TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD
by Harper Lee. Shunned by the entire town, and terribly embittered,
Ewell’s raison d'etre consists of being antagonistic towards every
living thing. As Atticus Finch does his best to defend Tom, the rancor
and hatefulness exhibited by Ewell at the trial manipulates the emotions
and fears of those present, raising the heat on Tom to lynch mob
intensity. Ewell is determined to see Tom hang, and following the trial,
Mr. 666 stokes up his inner dragon for yet another bellow. He seeks
revenge on those who desired a fair trial for Tom, and doing harm to
Scout and Jem seems like a great way to destroy Atticus.
Without Bob Ewell, would you have ever heard of Harper Lee?
Rising like a bad moon to the bottom of the list is the human monster known as Assef, antagonist from THE KITE RUNNER
by Khaled Hosseini, a novel that has sold millions of copies in dozens
of languages. A vicious and bigoted childhood acquaintance of the
likable characters, Amir and Hassan, he torments them whenever the mood
strikes, but devolves to subhuman status upon attacking and raping
Hassan. And at such time the Taliban gain control of Afghanistan, he
gravitates to their culture, thus placing himself in a position to
indefinitely torture others he considers inferior. As a brutal cherry on
the sociopath milkshake, Assef turns the character Sohrab into his sex
toy, and Amir must defeat Assef to bring Sohrab home.
Assef certainly doesn't possess the globe-spanning ambitions of Lord
Voldemort from Harry Potter, but what if you handed this Muslim
megalodon a magic wand? Power equals opportunity equals "enthusiasms" as
Al Capone might say.
Bottom line here: writers of manuscript-length fiction must create and
deploy a suitable antagonist, allowing them catalyze the plot line and
throw obstacles in the way of the protagonist and other characters, or
at least become an "antagonistic force" of some type, like Marilla
Cuthbert, a source of tension and character development. Or perhaps, you
need maximum verve in the novel and wish to create characters who
assume the roles of both a Marilla and a Bob. Whatever you do though,
plan to make them an integral part of the story, or rather, allow them
room they need to define the story.
- Michael Neff of Algonkian Writer Conferences