Mourning Inspector Javert

After watching the movie version of the musical Les Miserables, I began to divide things—songs, sound bites of chapel messages, Facebook posts—into “Javert would agree with that” and “That’s more like Jean Valjean.” It was pretty easy to do. The two characters give us a striking, black-and-white dichotomy of justice and mercy.

Except that what seems to be a dichotomy is actually a paradox. In God’s view of the world, it’s justice and mercy, not justice vs. mercy.

This is one reason why Micah 6:8 is one of my favorite verses. What does the Lord require of you? Seek justice. Love mercy. Walk humbly with your God.

So, if Javert was an example of someone completely devoted to one of the defining characteristics of God, why did his story end so hopelessly? Faced with a wrong on both sides—turning Jean Valjean in or letting him escape—Javert resigned his commission in a final way.

And I cried. I cried for how close he was, for one scrap of missing doctrine that is the key to the whole Christian faith, for those few inches between his head and his heart that his strict pursuit of righteousness would not allow the truth to travel. I spent the last seconds of the closing song scanning the mass of people transformed in paradise, looking for his face. But it wasn’t there.

The Five Hate Languages

Not going to lie, the first time I was asked which of the “Five Love Languages” I expressed the most, I immediately thought I should be choosing between Latin, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, or French.

Romance languages. Love languages. They’re similar, okay?

I soon found out that the actual love languages are Quality Time, Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, Gifts, and Acts of Service. Then I was talked into taking an online quiz (with such subtle, soul-searching questions as, “Do you feel valued when people affirm you?” or “Do you enjoy receiving gifts?”).

Apparently I enjoy spending time with people and having them say nice things about me. Which I never could have figured out apart from this invaluable assessment.

All that to say, in my humble opinion, the Internet doesn’t need another Love Language quiz. So, I decided to put my own twist on this topic. I call it, “The Five Hate Languages,” and it will help you figure out how you (or a fictional character, if you’re a writer) react to people or situations that hurt you.

The Best of the Worst: Disney Villains, Part Two

Last week, I discussed the pros and cons of various Disney villains. But there are still more psychologically disturbed megalomaniacs to analyze. Here they are.

Ursula from The Little Mermaid

Interestingly, almost everyone names Ursula as the villain they would never want to face, both guys and girls, even people who have only seen the movie once when they were eight. She’s clearly the most memorable—the tentacles, I think, have something to do with that. We’re often more afraid of the villains that combine other fears (i.e., people being terrified of Maleficent and Jafar only when they become a dragon or a snake). A lot of people are afraid of drowning, the creepy things that lurk in the ocean, and crazy bad hair, and transfer those fears to Ursula.

What Works: Her laugh is terrifying, her lair is distinctly creepy, she has a great song, and she grows to be enormous in the last scene. What’s not to hate?

What Doesn’t: Mobility? Honestly, I just disliked Ariel so much that I didn’t care if Ursula killed her or shriveled up her soul or whatever she does. But that’s not Ursula’s fault.

The Best of the Worst: Disney Villains, Part One

Let’s face it: in a lot of the (non-Pixar) Disney movies, the villains make the movies. Often the main characters (*cough* pretty much all of the princesses except Belle) are fairly predictable and not all that interesting.

But those bad guys, with their obligatory black-themed outfits and one dramatic song per movie, they capture people’s attention. How do I know? Because one of my stock get-to-know-you questions, asked in many group settings, is, “Which Disney villain would you most (and least) want to face?”

This usually turns into a discussion of the various merits and downfalls of each villain. I’ve complied some of the more interesting observations here, along with some handy armchair analysis. I’m covering five this Wednesday, and another five next Wednesday, in no particular order of scariness.

For you writers out there, think of this as a reader poll about what will work the next time you’re planning an antagonist. For non-writers, maybe this will give you a better idea of who you’d like to take on the next time all of my hypothetical questions become reality (although, if that happens, I guarantee we’ll have bigger problems).

Test Your Villain IQ

I’ve seen way too many antagonists who are portrayed as evil geniuses, but then do something that the average fifth grader would realize is a bad idea. Writers need to create consistently intelligent villains because…

A.     Readers won’t be afraid of someone who is dumber than they are. When I read a story, I instantly lose respect for a villain when he does something stupid for no good reason.

B.     Even though the villain’s stupid mistake might allow the hero to save the day, would it really feel rewarding? If you have to dumb down your antagonist to find a way for your protagonist to succeed, your climax won’t be as compelling or your resolution as satisfying.

C.     You don’t want people to make fun of your villain. Villains usually have low self esteem problems to begin with. No need to add to that.

Here’s a quiz to see if you are smarter than the average villain/henchman, just to point out some of the most common mistakes villains will make.

Note: If you stumbled on this blog post because you’re a megalomaniac dictator who wants to take over the world, oppress the innocent, etc., congratulations! You’ve come to the right place. Although this quiz is mainly for writers, you, too, can learn from the mistakes of other nefarious characters like yourself. Welcome.

What Mafia Taught Me About Antagonists

Just so everyone is clear, we are talking about Mafia the game. It is not, in fact, some kind of assassination spree where we smoke cigars and talk in strange accents. The basic premise is much less violent: everyone gets a card that indicates whether they are a citizen or a mafia member. Before each round, the mafia members kill someone, and at the end of each round, the citizens lynch someone, attempting to get the mafia out of the game.

Besides being a very fun and entertaining game (especially the Star Wars version), Mafia has taught me three things about making my villains more complex. Here they are:

1. The antagonists we dislike the most are the ones we once trusted.

My sister is a master of this one. When she’s the mafia, she’ll talk to people on either side of her and get them to trust her. They work together the whole game…until my sister is killed and reveals her true, sinister nature. Or, even more likely, when she wins and all the citizens are dead. Looking back, the citizens can see exactly how they were manipulated, but, at the time, they never saw it coming.

Let me tell you, that kind of backstabbing betrayal makes for a very dramatic scene. The same is true for writing. Sometimes, it’s good to have a villain we love to hate. When the sides are clearly drawn in the battle of good and evil, we all know that the guy dressed in black on the black horse with the black skull-adorned weapon is the bad guy.

At other times, though, it’s fun to use an antagonist who isn’t so obvious. When the protagonist (or even some of the minor characters) trust a character who then turns on them, that’s interesting – if it’s done well.