I’ve Learned I’m Not Big on Villains: Reflecting on Bad Guys

As I’m not reading as quickly as I’d like, I don’t have a review for you all. That means I had to think about something on which I could discuss. I gave it some time, and as I was thinking about another project I’m taking on (super-secret, big possibilities), I started thinking about villains.  I did a blog on villains a while back, but then I realized, I’m not actually a big fan of villains.

Don’t get me wrong, I like a good conflict, but stick with me. I went back and thought about my favorite books of all time. Only one of them has any arguable main villains.

Beowulf: One might argue this has villains, and it does. But Beowulf fights several. To my recollection (and I’ll admit it’s been a long while) none of them have very complex back stories. Oh, there’s some information, but ultimately, they’re either the fodder Beowulf cuts through or the thing that finally takes him down. Grendel is the most discussed, but he’s dispatched fairly quickly in the book.

What Men Live By, by Leo Tolstoy: I promise you, there was no bad guy.

Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson: So here we come to the “yes there was a villain” argument. Look, Ruin was the main antagonist. But Vin takes him on, and that’s that. Ruin wasn’t a mortal. He was this larger than life force that Vin had to elevate herself to take on (and I think there’s something there).

Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson: Again, the Dark One was the overall threat.  Some may argue Ishamael was the “villain” of that story, but I simply don’t see it that way.

The Dragon Riders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey:  No villain. A threat, a lager than life threat, but no villain.

This led me to an assertion. Great Books Need Great Villains.  I think not. These are my five favorite books of all time, and the reason I love them has nothing to do with the villains. Do I think a great villain can make a book great? Yes, but I don’t think they’re mandatory. It really dawned on me as I was thinking about who my favorite villains are. The fact of the matter is I don’t have any. I’m actively sitting here thinking about books and who the MC faces in each of them, and I can’t even name one. Comics are different in that regard, but comics are meant to run for years, so you need a cast of villains to change things up.

I’ve said this a bunch of times, give me proactive, sympathetic characters, and I’m probably going to love your story. I’m less invested as a reader to see if they’re proactive because they have to defeat evil or because they have to beat this one particular antagonist. That’s window dressing for me. Bob and Caught both have villains. I certainly hope they’re enjoyable villains, but I don’t mind a world where the heroes are the ones with whom my readers connect.

So this post, short but interesting, leads to a question. Where do you sit in relationship to villains? I understand the value of compelling villains. What I’m asking is do you only invest in stories that have a great villain? Compare your favorite books ever to this question. Tell me the villain of your favorite book or series. I’m honestly curious to know what you think.

Thanks for reading,

V/R
Matt

A Fall From Grace: When Characters Devolve Into Villains

I honestly love character studies.  I started them in high school and learned how to write by doing case studies.  Just as I was pondering this very post, I ran into Adam’s blog post about how villains become villains.

I’ve grown up spoiled with stories.  I’ve gotten to read, watch, and listen to a ton of great stories in a litany of formats.  The most common trend I see these days is the sympathetic villain.  Perhaps a more accurate term in this case is a “relatable” villain.  Let’s face it, people just don’t wake up one day and say, “I think I’ll be a horrible person today.”  People are motivated to take action.

This got me thinking about a character study I’d like to share with you.  The most fascinating villainy turn I saw was linked to a phrase of mine. “The Devil isn’t the monster, he’s your best friend.”  I hope the Lord understands my metaphor and his worshipers don’t judge.  Let me explain the theory.  I don’t think the devil is one who threatens and yells.  It’s far easier to ENCOURAGE sin.  So that’s the meaning.  The guy who says, “Why not? Everyone else does it?  Why  not?  Who’s it really hurting.”  Temptation is the enemy of faith, and those “reasonable” steps away from what one should do is how that highway to Hell gets paved.  Now, I promise, this isn’t a theological post.  It just sets up this amazing story arch.

Brent Weeks’ Night Angel Trilogy is great just to read and enjoy, but I invite you to read it (or even better read it again) and pay close attention to Dorian Ursuul.  His arch is amazing.  You see.  He’s a good guy.  He has his struggles.  He even has this intense desire to step away from the fearful reputation of his father.  He’s a good guy right?  Well…sure.  But let’s try to avoid spoilers as much as we can.

The first thing that happens is he has to take the position his father had.  It’s all fine and good to CLAIM to want to be benevolent and kind, but that doesn’t always work out in practice when you’re in charge.  Dorian starts by hating himself and making concessions as to why it’s “necessary.”  Indeed, as a reader, I found myself noting that, “yeah, what are his options?”  Quite frankly his option was to live the bad guy or die a man of principle.  Who doesn’t understand that?

What Weeks does masterfully is up the anti.  Dorian does something else that isn’t’ very nice, but he has his reason.  Then he does something slightly worse.   By the time he makes his fifth or sixth “bad” decision, the readers have come to see him as having “gone bad.”  Even if his reason is the most noble on the surface.  This proves what I said above.  Villains descend into darkness.  I have a book on my own inspired by that very premise.

This arch is all about how power corrupts.  As Dorian progresses, he makes every decision for a number of reasons, some of which make perfect sense.  His descent was gradual and unfortunate.

This is a POWERFUL storytelling tool I’m surprised hasn’t ben made more useful in fiction.  It makes the villain sympathetic more than a plot devise.  I won’t lie.  The main character, “Grimm,” in The Journals of Bob Drifter, is a plot device.  I don’t hate any storytelling techniques on it’s surface.  I’m simply trying to provide writers a tool for an underused structure they may want to consider.

I hope the example I gave makes sense.  I really fight to avoid spoilers.  If you haven’t read the book, you should JUST to follow THAT character’s story line.  It’s amazing storytelling.

Thanks for reading,

Matt