Allowances
When my perfect little Dynamo Boy was a perfect little Demon Baby . . . actually, before that, when he was a perfect little infant, when he was born, he had fluid in his lungs and was in the NICU for ten days . . . on a ventilator for over half of those days. They were the worst days of my life, I think. Parents in NICUs do all kinds of bargaining with God. Make me suffer, not my child is pretty much the lament. After he came off the respirators and was in an incubator, I taped pictures of our family in there, and I sat a little Buddha statue near his head. I prayed with a pastor. I prayed constantly and unceasingly, and eventually my baby came home.
But this is actually a story about a doctor there. On the first day I was allowed to see him (c-section, I had been confined to bed for a day) . . . I was wheeled in. And a doctor stood next to him. I saw my baby unable to cry because of the breathing tubes, and I started crying, equally silently, with him, FOR him. And I asked the doctor, "How is he?" And the doctor yelled at me. This is not the way I tell the story, something I somehow embellish. It happened. He YELLED. He yelled, "HOW DOES HE LOOK TO YOU?! WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME? I JUST GOT HERE! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW HE IS! LOOK AT HIM!" He went on--an on--but by that time, I was a quivering sobbing mass of mommy. And I decided then and there this was the most awful-behaving human being I had ever met. He's held that distinction until recent events make him tie. Nonetheless, he was awful. And the nurses all gathered around me, and one said, "That's just how he is. Don't pay attention to him. He's the most brilliant doctor here." And I was told stories of lives he saved that other doctors had missed the boat on.
It did not redeem him in my eyes.
Now, there is an entire TV show with rabid followers, one I have enjoyed . . . House. He's pretty much like that doctor. And sometimes I have cringed watching him, but more often, I have laughed. I have chuckled. I have cried. I like Dr. House.
Now, Dr. House is a lot cuter than the doctor in the NICU, but that's not it.
So I thought about it. What makes a reader, or a watcher somehow love the broken, awful anti-hero protagonist in a fictional world, versus the real one? Why do we make allowances, and then where is the line in the sand when we toss a book against the wall, roll our eyes and think, "I can't stick with this one"?
I thought of a few reasons with House. One, his friends. Despite his awful behavior, he has an obsession with his best friend in which he is actually JEALOUS of others in his friend's life. That goes for the co-workers he tolerates. It's somehow endearing even in is dysfunction, as if you sense that he really would LIKE to be human but he doesn't know how. He's also vulnerable . . . a drug addict . . . and has legit pain issues. As someone in chronic pain, man, I had a day this week I felt homicidal. So I relate to someone in pain.
I thought of the character of Lisbeth in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. [MILD spoilers.] She is brilliant but violent. She is asocial in the extreme. But a genius. Yet . . . we know she has been abused and brutalized. We know she somehow survived, and so readers (at least this one) are filled with an admiration. You need only read the paper to know about children and women who are raped, tortured . . . we can't fathom what Lisbeth went through and however she SURVIVED . . . well, then whatever way that occurred it somehow means we must allow her the way she is. And then, of course, there is her first guardian. We see her care for him.
I think in fictional worlds, we weave the threads of empathy. But there are definitely cautions. Readers are not always patient. And there are SOME character flaws (racism, abuse of others, etc.) where, frankly, I'd be hard-pressed to think an author could pull it off--at least for me as reader.
Thoughts? What makes us give a fictional character allowances for their brilliance or specialness?
16 comments:
I think we put up with fictional characters who are miserable people that we wouldn't put up with in real life. Dr. House is a prime example. I worked for 18 years at a major hospital and ran into some doctors sort of like him (not quite, because doctors like him are too big a liability for hospitals to keep around) and if I were a patient I think I'd ask for a different doctor. If you don't trust your doctor...
But in fiction we often accept that the end justifies the means, but in real life, not so much.
Mark:
I agree . . . And I think a real person like that probably has a less endearing back story, or is without some of those softening elements. I mean, I have met people in real life who I would have to look very hard to find redeeming qualities. The fictional ones are almost always given enough quirks that we see their humanity.
I once freelanced for a company and a woman manager came in--I have never (ever, ever, ever, ever) in my life seen someone in business behave so abominably. One employee was in the ICU and this woman was calling there. About WORK. About marketing copy. She was awful and she demeaned a 50 person department. People with illnesses like MS found their symptoms exacerbated. For the life of me, I could not figure out how or why she was kept around. Absolutely no idea. So I started inventing ideas like she was sleeping with the CEO. Like she had blackmail on people. Because otherwise it made no sense for a human to behave that way. There was never a "reveal" of any kinder qualities. I would guess . . . she operated that way everywhere, but I don't know. But if it was fiction, we would get a back story if we were meant to like the person.
My kids doc is a nice man, but he doesn't have the greatest bedside manner. He is a very reputable doc though and I trust him that way. But he obviously doesn't always know how to talk to the parents. One thing he does though is bring a balloon to his first visit with the baby. Another thing he did (both mine were whisked off to NICU as well) was stop the nurses from taking the babies. "No," he said. "His mom hasn't seen him yet." And he laid the baby down by my head and said, "Give your son/daughter a kiss."
Those two things absolutely revealed his character. I do think what your doc did was terrible, but I do think people leap to the conclusion that docs are just naturally assholes and they think they get to be that way. Well, they're human first, right?
Trinidad undoubtedly does terrible things. Someone from an county tribe threatened his priest. (They attack caravans, just trying to survive.) And he hunts the man down and slits his throat. NO ONE fucks with Trinidad's priest. So I hope the reader learns the two most important things about Trin: his loyalty and his capacity for violence. I tried to reveal that in stages to the reader, but one of the early things we see is children adoring him, almost hand in hand with learning the nasty bit. Someone once suggested that I cut it, but I feel it's too important for character development.
Castile is my tougher one. He's a liar and a cheat, made that way by surviving prison. But I hope I've balanced it with a past and present victimization.
I think you give fictional characters leeway because they are not attacking you.
The doctor in the ICU was attacking you and, even worse, in an oblique way he was robbing you of hope in regard to your baby. The nurses had to restore that hope. They probably had to do that with a whole lot of parents.
About Lisbeth. I thought she was a great character too. Sometimes salvation is strange to see. In her it takes a very difficult form, but it is a form of salvation, nonetheless. She is way more than you would ever expect her to be.
At the risk of going on too long, I add one more thing. I grew up in a doctor's household. I learned you either absorb people's pain (which is what my dad did and what I did as a minister) or you find some other way to deal with it.
Absorbing people's pain can destroy you, and it does sometimes cloud your judgment, cause you to make poor decisions you might not otherwise make.
I've come to the conclusion that the tenor of our lives is seen in how we face pain and still live in love. I see you as a person who does that well, though I sometimes hurt for you because that is so hard to do.
I still don't think much of your real life doctor's bedside manner. I would always remember him as someone who caused pain. But, needless to say, I haven't walked in his shoes.
And that's the other point, isn't it. Writers can help us walk in difficult people's shoes.
Thanks for letting me go on so long.
Starbucks:
I am sure it's one glimpse I got, though the nurses confirmed he was like that nearly all the time--the hospital made allowances for his brilliance. There's bedside manner being gruff, and there's verbal abuse or over-the-top behavior. Like House. We're not talking bad bedside manner in the case of House. He really IS nasty and horrible--it's just because it's fiction, we warm up to him because of how he's written.
My shoulder surgeon had the bedside manner of a slug on quaaludes. I mean SOOOOOO blah. But I didn't care. He wasn't rude just . . . cool/cold. But he is the best in the area, and he views the body as a machine in some ways . . . he happened to be the best guy to fix my piece of machinery.
I like your description of your characters. The loyalty thing goes a long way with me as a reader. In real life, do I want to be hanging out with these guys? Not likely--but in a world you built, heck yeah, I'd want them in my corner.
E
Joe:
Great insights. I am sure some kinds of doctors have it harder than others, too. I had a cousin who worked at Sloane Kettering (cancer hospital) . . . a children's hospital with very sick kids . . . some places are just tougher. There's a show Nurse Jackie. She's an addict because of the pace she keeps.
I seem to have the empathy gene to some exponential value. I get my heart broken a lot . . . but I also get to share in wondrous things. I think it comes with the territory. My dad used to tell me I couldn't save the whole world. But I settle for saving one student at a time, in ESL, or one person at a time.
One more thing . . . I don't really "carry" anger or anything toward that doctor. There was a TIME when I would have. When months or years later, I would still pain at people who behaved horribly. Buddhism--the Middle Way--and Christian forgiveness concepts . . . have really taught me to move on. They remain as stories or allegories or whatever in my life, but the emotional resonance is let go of. I really don't need to walk a mile in his shoes---in essence, he is who he is. Imperfect like I am. He's forgiven even though he didn't ask to be. It's done. Past. Over.
But the lessons regarding how to treat people? You learn from them.
Erica,
What you say at the close of your reply to me is a very wise approach, one I am working on learning too.
Joe:
I don't do it perfectly. I find forgiveness is a process rather than being done one time, often. In the Christian religion, it should be total/complete as Christ forgives. But humans have a hard time with it. I find, also, forgiveness is easier when the other party wants forgiveness and isn't continuing to cause problems, stir hatred, behave unkindly. THAT makes it that much harder. When people continue to be hateful or unkind . . . and you struggle to let go over and over. Family issues often include that dynamic . . . I have numerous friends with long-standing family issues and that forgiveness piece is hard when some behaviors are ongoing. My mother-in-law, as I've shared on the blog before, has no relationship with my children. The forgiveness portion of that was mostly worked through years ago--even though she did not want forgiveness. But then she met them for lunch last year, and said vague things like keeping in touch with them--which never happened. So it was a fresh wound. However, it was a LOT easier to let go of this time around. Sad she cannot change for their sake, but I don't have to be a party to continuing to feel angry. And again . . . I don't do it perfectly . . . guess that's why we're HUMAN. LOL!
LOL... You have been bitten by the House bug too?! it's NO SECRET how much I love House MD. It is by far my favourite show. Thanks to his brilliant sarcasm. He is not a very nice person, but there are certain vunerabilities like his leg & obvious melancholy, as you said, that we can sometimes relate to. "The world can't be cured with sunshine & puppies."-House MD :)
BLD:
I thought of you as I blogged this morning, because I know you love him!
Yeah . . . I think you raise a REALLY good characteristic. I find him more melancholy than waking with a hatred for the world. He has more of a vulnerability . . . again, as he's written. Do love him. Don't get to watch it much . . . but I find the character pretty interesting.
E
Something must be wrong with my computer. I thought you hadn't blogged over the weekend and I check this morning and you did! I know I hit refresh...oh well.
Yes, I've been thinking a lot about those flaws and how they're offset. I have an in-law that is always making rude anger provoking statements and yet bizarrely I get the impression that it is at that moment she feels most vulnerable. Somehow this makes me like her.
Richmond:
I think a lot of times that is the case with people. I don't know that it makes me "warm" to them necessarily, but it's a peek into their psyche (which all writers love to do!).
You were in a wheelchair. Why didn't you just run him down, and then wheel away very fast? (The only way to move on in my opinion, lol.) Still, I have a difficult time appreciating genius when it's surrounding a perfect oaf. My first retina specialist was a lot like the doctor you describe. Everyone in surgery (all four freaking times) would tell me he's the best. Yet, when I first went to him because I knew something was wrong with my eye, he scolded me for not noticing the problem sooner.
I moved on, to a new doctor (one not hard on the eyes both figuratively and literally). He, too, was considered great, but he also had a heart (did I mention he was hot?) I've forgiven Dr. Stupidman, even though he was a Red Sox fan. Talk about adding insult to injury. OMG, I should slash the tires on his Porsche... ;-)
Dexter (on Showtime - GOD I love that show!) is the type of anti-hero protag people should abhor, but he remains endearing because he kills the criminal who falls through the legal cracks. That's his code - get the guy who hurt the many. Way cool. I'd hang with him in a heartbeat, and hide all my knives, just in case he forgets the code.
I definitely think if we know the character suffered, that gives him instant sympathy. Or if they show a humanity, a great love or a great caring, that's another plus. Or a brilliance, or if they're funny. I love funny people.
In fiction, I would find them interesting. I'd want to read more about them. In real life, if they were nasty and mean, I'd want them to stay far away from me. Even the funny ones.
Kath:
Ohhhhhhh, Dexter is a great one. Yes, you should be horrified . . . but compelling character.
Edie:
And of course, in the real world, we tend to guard our back story. In fiction, the writer weaves it in to make the character tolerable.
Post a Comment