Please
welcome back Jeanne of the Bookblog of the Bristol Public Library as she considers the perception of
character.
A
Question of Character
Lately I’ve been thinking about how people view
characters; specifically how they react when someone else takes over writing or
acting a character. For example, some
reviews of Robert Goldsborough’s Nero Wolfe series maintain that a reader will
think the book was written by Rex Stout.
I’ve never thought that. I enjoy
Goldsborough’s books but I am never under any illusion that I’m reading
something by Stout. The characters are just
a bit off to me. I experience the same
thing with Anne Hillerman’s continuation of the Chee and Leaphorn stories;
those two characters don’t seem to have the same feel. I think Ms. Hillerman was wise to make
Bernadette the main character in her books in order to minimize comparisons.
Readers often have as many opinions as there
are--well, readers. Is Lord Peter the bon vivant of the earlier books or the
serious, damaged man of the latter? True, there were earlier mentions of his
being shell-shocked but for the most part he behaves rather glibly—until
Harriet comes on the scene. Sayers
allowed the character to evolve. For me,
this is best illustrated by the different approaches by Ian Carmichael and
Edward Petherbridge, who played the two aspects of Wimsey quite well.
Miss Marple is another character with changeable
characteristics. Is she really the
irritating busybody, the “old cat” as one character described her, or is she
the harmless, fluffy little old lady with rosy cheeks? Thanks to the many
screen portrayals, there are at least ten versions from which to choose,
although some of the versions are undermined by scripts that alter situations
and solutions and do not, shall we say, improve on the original. (Perhaps “make a pig’s breakfast” is actually
closer to the mark.) I was partial to Geraldine McEwan’s and Helen Hayes’
versions, but there are others I found worthy.
Other characters have had even more
interpretations. Sherlock Holmes has
been everything from “a high functioning sociopath” in the Cumberbatch TV
version to an older, romantic lead in Laurie King’s Mary Russell series; he’s
been a boor, an enlightened champion, a dilettante, and an unstable
addict. All these portrayals have their
roots in the original; it’s what the reader takes away from it personally that
forms the impression.
But the real chasm for me is found in a science
fiction character: Mr. Spock. I was
eight when Star Trek started and each week found me glued to the TV. Spock was an alien, someone who didn’t fit
in, and who was regarded with suspicion and/or disdain by many. He was an outsider, and that appealed to a
number of people in the 1960s: people
who felt different, who felt isolated, who felt marginalized. Here was someone intelligent, lonely, and struggling
to fit in to a society he didn’t quite understand without compromising his
beliefs or change who he was. Many years
later I read that Roddenberry wanted a post-racial world for Earth, but still
wanted to deal with prejudices so Spock became the stand in for “the other.” In
the first season particularly there were several instances in which people were
hostile to Spock because he was half-Vulcan; as the series continued, that was
downplayed. Spock the character also
grew and changed over the years until he was comfortable with his own dual
nature, though I would argue that didn’t happen until the second movie, The Wrath of Khan. In the first movie,
he was still so conflicted that he wanted to purge all his emotions in an
effort to become fully Vulcan.
And therein, I think, lies the difference in
character perception in this instance.
As I watched the character of Spock develop, I was well aware of the
conflicts and gradual changes which occurred over the course of three
years. As a shy, chubby, studious kid, I
identified with his struggles. We were both on the outside looking in, so to
speak. When the franchise rebooted, we had a Spock who was fully integrated
into a social group—respected, honored, admired, and with an attractive and
accomplished girlfriend. This was hardly the outsider figure I had grown up
knowing. His confusion over human custom and emotion seemed more like willful
misunderstanding and refusing to adapt. To me, this character was more Sheldon
Cooper than Spock.
So I was baffled when reviewers kept praising the
character as being true to original, especially after he “loosened up” in Star Trek Beyond. My only conclusion was
that to that segment of the audience who had watched original episodes out of
order (if at all) or just seen the movies, the mature Spock, the one able to
comprehend emotional responses and even to joke, was the real (and only) Spock.
I don’t know that this new version appeals to me at all; he evokes annoyance,
not empathy. I do not relate to him.
And I think that’s probably true of all the
characters we encounter. The parts we relate to most are the aspects we exaggerate
in our minds. My Miss Marple has a
sweetness about her that’s likely due to my grandmother who was known to listen
in on party-line conversations. While
other people might have seen her as the nosey old biddy, I saw her as a beloved
figure. I read Dorothy L. Sayers as a teen, about the same time I was reading
Josephine Tey, Margery Allingham, and Agatha Christie, so my strongest
impressions of Lord Peter are as the gentleman detective not the passionate
suitor. Had I been a bit older, I’m sure I would have appreciated the romantic
aspect much more.
It must be as Edmund Wilson once said: “No two persons ever read the same
book.”
1 comment:
Excellent article, Jeanne. My husband is a major fan of Rex Stout and Tony Hillerman. He has read every book at least once and he's also read all of Robert Goldsborough’s and Anne Hillerman’s novels. He loved the original authors but he also loves Robert's and Anne's novels. He doesn't equate the authors to be the same, just enjoys the new books because he was so much into their stories. The same with Sherlock Holmes and Laurie King’s and Mary Russell series. He has read them all.
I'm sorry I'm not speaking more personally about the mysteries I enjoy, but you've named so many of my husband's favorite authors, I went with that.
Very happy to have seen this. Thank you, Jeanne and Kevin. :) I'll definitely show this article to my husband.
Post a Comment