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| Back to hold the line against moral ambiguity again. |
I recently read a mystery novel, the title and author of
which shall remain nameless, which kept me on the edge of my seat. Not because
of the convoluted plot, which was engaging enough, but because from almost the
very first page, I was torn between wanting to find out whodunit and wanting to
strangle the protagonist—a former detective pursuing the case—for being so
self-involved she screwed up over and over. A flawed heroine I understand, but
this character went way beyond the concept of an antihero. She was so
unlikable as to seriously interfere with the basic contract of communication that should exist
between author and reader.
This is nothing new in modern literature. Gone Girl
and The Girl on the Train both used this technique to great effect, presenting
an untrustworthy narrator to build the mystery at the heart of each novel. Both
of those books were unforgettably creepy because of their skewed points of
view. I didn’t read it, but I understand American Psycho was memorable
for the same reason. Fair enough.
This is something different, something more insidious and
more related to the complaints I’ve voiced before about the absence
of the concept of redemption in modern screenwriting. And it is something more
than what my writing mentor A.C. Crispin used to describe as chasing your hero
up a tree, putting a tiger at the base of that tree AND THEN throwing rocks at
him (that is, giving him every problem you can think of and daring him—or her—to
work his way out of it).
The protagonist in the mystery I just read is saddled with
more than the usual set of baggage. She was abandoned by her narcissistic mother
as a child; is emotionally abused and manipulated by her younger sister, who
she protected throughout their youth; she allows her boyfriend and cop partner
to do the same, until he actually crosses the legal line to frame an innocent
man in a child abduction case; and, on top of it all, she’s a gambling addict. When
she outs her partner to the department, she loses her job. Then she loses
everything else in a soul-destroying casino bender. Believe it or not, things deteriorate
from there until she finally gets a clue (literally) and finds a way to solve
the case that started her on her downward slide.
Very little about this heroine is, well, heroic. Or even a
little bit likable. For, oh, 75 percent of the book, I was ready to give up on
her (and her creator) on nearly every page. I’m still not sure why I didn’t.
Maybe I’m as stubborn as she is. Because, in the end, she did prevail. She
found the evil perp who did the deed, though she never got her job—or her life—back.
But to paraphrase a popular saying, with heroines like this,
who needs villains? She wasn’t a child abductor or a murderer, but she did
lie, cheat and damn near steal to support her habit. (We know this because we’re
in her head and we see it all.) And she’s only a little bit sorry about it. Not
nearly sorry enough to be ready for the redemption that would make it okay;
only enough to make her loathe what she has become.
That, I think, is the problem here. This heroine, this
book, is reflective of what is all too common in our society these days.
Self-loathing is all around us. People lack self-respect and act out of it all
too frequently. But that “I hate me” feeling is not enough to make them reach
for something higher; the pain is not enough to effect a change in themselves.
Instead, the inadequacy is all to often an excuse to hurt others. Either in
small ways—by lying or trolling or turning away from responsibilities—or large
ones—by mass shootings or racist political action.
In any case, I won’t be reading another book by this
author. I’ll stick to my romance novels where the heroes and heroines must be (at
least somewhat) likable, redemption is a given, and a happy ending is guaranteed.
That goes for the science fiction romance I write, too. Call me old school, if
you will. I don’t mind standing atop the last bastions against moral ambiguity.
I suspect one or two of you out there will be fighting there alongside me.
PARTY TIME!
Don't forget tomorrow, Saturday, August 24, is the day for the Sci-Fi Romance Soiree Facebook Party , happening from 12-6 p.m. PDT! My slot is from 4-4:30 p.m. PDT, but don't miss Lea Kirk, Lexi Post and others, too. Tune in to the event site for freebies, contests, author chat and FUN!
Cheers, Donna
I am old-fashioned, too. :-)
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