Cue the Tragic Backstory

I’ve been thinking a lot about villains this week. Particularly stories that back up and shine a light on how a villain became who they were and why. Like last week’s blog, a lot of this stems from my current reading as I’ve been reading a companion novella for Marissa Meyer’s The Lunar Chronicles series called Fairest. Spoilers ahead for The Lunar Chronicles, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Wicked.

            Now reading this last in the companion set, a reader already knows quite a bit about Luna’s despicable Queen Levana from the full series as she’s the main villain. Levana is a ruler who uses her Lunar ability to manipulate brain chemistry, mostly causing physical coercion but also convincing the people of Luna she’s the most beautiful woman on the moon. (These stories are all sci-fi retellings, and Levana represents the Evil Queen from Snow White if that’s an easier way to explain it.) Still, this book backs up to the events that set a lot of the main series in motion: Levana’s hatred of her sister (the prior queen and Cinder’s mother), her ill-fated romance with Winter’s father, the face Levana chooses as her glamour, how Levana rose to power, and the attempted murder of Princess Selene. Very, very important stuff in regard to how the main series comes about, but also things we know happened but haven’t seen in person.

            So, that all got me thinking about villain stories and how to tell them when you’re focusing in on a character that’s maybe a little…less than heroic. So, let’s think about this a little. Just off the top of my head, there’s kind of two main ways villain stories get told, right? Specifically in regard to characters that have been established as a villain in the greater lore of the story and now we’re backing up to focus in on them, rather than the protagonist or hero.

1.     The How We Got Here Story

This is the category Meyer’s Fairest would fall into. She’s backing up, explaining important events we know had to have happened in the story that we’ve not seen before, and essentially telling the audience how things created the scenario in the main series. I think this is a very common way to handle villain stories, especially since it makes a lot of sense for a companion novel or prequel. You’re taking what you know as a writer, playing to what readers know, and basically shading in additional information. You don’t have to read Fairest for any of the main Lunar Chronicles series to make sense, but it’s there to give additional information about your lead villain.

I actually did a blog on a similar subject not too long ago regarding Suzanne Collins’ The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, which is a prequel following her Hunger Games series infamous villain, President Snow. (Click here to teleport to said blog.) In this book, we see Snow as a young man full of desperate ambition to claw his way back into the affluent society of a post-war Panem. Collins then spins an unexpected tale that feels very different from the original series while still familiar, all the while expertly connecting threads that show how the world might have evolved into what it becomes.

Still though, even with just these two examples, you can show the breadth and scope of explaining a villain’s backstory. In regard to Fairest, Levana is kind of a supremely messed-up character, which you understand as she had a terribly unkind and traumatic upbringing in a world of politics, power, and beauty. It is very clear she doesn’t understand a lot of true emotions, nor feels remorse at forcing people to cross the line with her Lunar gift to get what she wants (a theme heavily explored in the main series that is very scary), and proceeds to get more and more unhinged and volatile as the story unfolds. That being said, underneath it all, it’s clear she was a person that was hurt very, very badly all throughout her upbringing and a lot of what she wants is to be shown love, adoration, and respect from her people. Maybe even anyone.

I don’t know if this is a super direct comparison, but Levana’s story reminded me a lot of Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender. She’s unhinged, supremely dangerous, but a lot of what she does is mentally justified by her thinking it will bring her acceptance from her father, Firelord Ozai, and power in her country. Actually, thinking about it now, Azula also believes she’s more deserving of the crown even not as the firstborn, which is about how the Levana/Channary dynamic goes. Azula is, I think, one of the most well-written villain arcs I’ve ever seen, as by the time you hit that final battle scene in Season 3 where she just absolutely loses it, you truly realize that Azula is a victim of her father as much as anyone else. A created monster who did horrible things hoping it would gain her acceptance, and you really just feel sad for her. Not saying it justifies anything she did- she’s a horrible person- but you understand in that moment who she is and why she’s done the things she’s done. I think it’s one of the most striking character scenes in Avatar. Levana’s story in Fairest kind of plays out the same way- Meyer makes sure you understand her, but she never ever condones what Levana does. She is a terrible person that can justify anything she does, but she’s created from the circumstances of her life.

Similarly but a bit different, the younger Snow in Collins’ The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes doesn’t initially start out at full wacko like a Levana or Azula. In fact, he’s one of the less bad Capitol children. The vast majority of this prequel book deals a lot with the nature of good and bad, and so a lot of the story and characters fall in a very grey area. Snow, throughout the book, ends up on this very slippery slope of murky decision making, some of which do maybe speak to the moral character he seems to have at this point. He is one of the few mentors that visits their tributes, he brings food so Lucy Gray won’t starve, he actively helps her cheat at least twice which might contribute greatly to her surviving the Games once they form a bond. See where the slope gets slipperier? First it’s showing a basic level of human decency that hardly anyone else in the Capitol manages (granted, it’s for his own self-interest), but then it becomes harder and harder not to cross a line of what he’s supposed to be doing. He’s not supposed to help Lucy Gray, but is it wrong that he gives someone he seems to care about the best chance of survival? I’m sure Collins made that very murky on purpose. Still though, even though some decisions Snow makes might have some moral fiber to them, the reader quickly sees him descend down an even darker path.

Though he wants to help Lucy Gray, Snow is motivated more than anything by his own survival and self-preservation, not to mention ambition, cunning, and a want for power fueled by a desperation of status. He quickly justifies decisions that aren’t maybe so ethical or moral, until by the end, you see him chose his own ascendance over everything- decency, connection, and a life that could have been potentially very different. Snow is a slithery little fiend and no one knows it until it’s too late. By the end of the book, we see him step on the path of the monster he’ll one day become, but we understand him and the devastating fact that he could have been a good person and chose not to be.

Major Considerations for the How We Got Here Story:

·       The Character Themselves

Writers need to know exactly what sort of character they’re writing and what goal needs to be shaped by telling their story. In the case of Fairest, Meyer is giving us a better understanding of Levana and why she is the way she is. In The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Collins is giving us a better understanding of how Snow, a relatively shadowy figure in the main series, is, but she’s also sowing the seeds of how Panem got to be the way it was and explaining that a lot of the later story was fueled by a choice to be bad.

·       What the Readers Know

In both instances, these examples walk back through events that drastically shape the later story at large. With Fairest, we’re walking through a lot of key moments we’re familiar with from the main story but haven’t seen before, let alone from Levana’s own perspective. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, I feel, is telling a bit more of a new story, but there’s a lot of easter eggs and tie-ins that are mentioned later on: the first District 12 winner, “The Hanging Tree” song, the gamification of the Hunger Games themselves with stakes and personal connection to the tributes. Play to what you’ve already established, but even then, you should have plenty of room to surprise your reader- Fairest and The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes both had very shocking revelations.

·       Understanding, Empathy, and Justification

One point I made back in my more in-depth blog on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was that in order to adequately tell morally grey or downright villainous characters, you have to be able to make the reader empathize with them. Now empathize does not directly translate to justify, to be clear. But as a reader, if we’re backtracking and following a character that might do bad things, we cannot instantly hate them. We have to understand why a character is the way they are and why they do the things they do, we have to allow our own empathy to extend to that character, but if this is a character that does awful, terrible things, we cannot justify them. We must explain how that character justifies their own actions to themselves, but it has to be clear their justification is not right.

Everything in the way Levana coerces someone love her is a HUGE red flag that is wholeheartedly wrong, she commissions genetic experimentation and biological warfare, she actively commits genocide in the main series. Snow (perhaps unlike Levana), exhibits signs that he does know where moral and ethical lines fall while actively working against them: he sets a supposed friend up to likely be killed for treason, he tries to kill Lucy Gray despite whatever might have been between them, he begins a path of bloodshed and coercion that gets him all the way to the presidency, he never attempts to abolish the Hunger Games which kills dozens of children yearly, he dabbles in sex trafficking as revealed by Finnick, and his actions lead to the entire country being swallowed up in revolt, rebellion, and war. These two are not good people, but we understand how they got there and why they do what they do.

2.     The Everything You Know is Wrong Story

Well, that got dark. Let’s talk about a happier option, shall we?

I always love to see when stories do this, but another story type we see when talking about telling villain stories is the Everything You Know is Wrong Story. This is the kind of story that also takes an established Bad Guy, backs up, and then says, “Okay, but what about this?”

The one that always comes to my mind is Wicked by Gregory Maguire, who I believe tends to write this sort of a story a lot. Let me clarify though that Wicked the book is considerably different and darker than Wicked the Broadway musical, but they both serve the same function as a retelling of L. Frank Baum’s classic, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, where the main protagonist is not Dorothy, but the Wicked Witch of the West. Elphaba, as she’s named in Wicked, is a misunderstood witch with deep connections to the other main players in the story, the Wizard, Glinda the Good Witch, the Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Man. I have read several of Maguire’s Wicked book series, but not recently, so for this example, I’ll probably be speaking more of the considerably lighter musical.

            Wicked the musical presents Elphaba as someone intelligent, morally grounded, and seeking connection- although she spends her time taking a lot of bullying due to the way she looks. Galinda (later Glinda) is a bit of a menace to her at first, proving that she was not always such a “good witch”, although the two eventually become friends. Elphaba is a character constantly fighting to be seen beyond the face-value, first impression people make of her (*coughs to point out very purposeful messaging*) and has a constant struggle with self. In Stephen Schwartz’s legendary music, you know Elphaba is deeply insecure about her green skin (though she doesn’t let on that way) as stated in songs like “The Wizard and I”, “Popular”, and “I’m Not That Girl”. Elphaba does find friendship and eventually love (after much drama), although she ends up scorned from society for refusing to work with the Wizard and her decision to aid the Animal Resistance. Those in power spin her to be a horrible villain, convincing the people she’s “wicked” fueled a lot by their own preconceptions. Elphaba in Act 2 is Public Enemy Number 1, and does have a shattered moment where she doesn’t care anymore in “No Good Deed” after having lost her best friend, her lover, and most of what she holds dear. Though it could hold up as a great villain song, the audience knows she’s at her breaking point and is done trying to people-please and do good things that will bite her in the butt later. In the musical at least, things do eventually play out for the better and Elphaba fakes her famous death scene, removing the heat that was after her and maybe finally getting the promise of a happy life with Fiyero, who as it turns out did not die due to some quick magic on her part.

            I pick this story because I love it, but also as it’s probably one of the most successful retellings of a villain story where everything gets flipped on its head. I mean, Wicked is probably one of the most successful musicals ever, so I figured it’d be a notable example. As I said, the original book does have quite a different plot, but I wanted to go with the musical as it was fresher in my mind.

            I know there are quite a few stories out there that do retellings such as this- I feel like villain retellings were something very trendy recently, if not still so, but I haven’t actually read a lot of them.

Major Considerations for the Everything You Know is Wrong Story

·       The Character Themselves and What the Readers Know

Once again, these two points from above are going to be super important, but I’m going to merge them to make this explanation a little easier. In this case, what your readers know/expect is crucial because you’re taking an established story- most likely a famous one written by another person if the rights are open- and completely retelling it. In Wicked, we know we need mention of major players like the Wizard, Glinda, Dorothy and squad, etc., we know a house gets dropped on the Witch of the East, several characters get magicked due to their flaws, and the Witch of the West gets melted very dramatically by water. All these things we see in Wicked, as in retellings we have to hit the key scenes readers are expecting. (I discussed this some a few weeks ago in a blog on fairytale retellings. Click here to summon a pumpkin carriage.)

Also, we have to determine what way we’re going to spin an already established character and explain how everything we think we know about them could be misunderstood and justified. It is funny that in a sense of both of these story types we’re explaining, but the key point of this one is to justify actions, while the other is the opposite. Still, we have to make this character make sense with how they’ve previously been presented and explain why the reader’s gotten the story all wrong.

·       The Flaws of the Society

This point was actually raised by Kristin when we were discussing this week’s topic, but she mentioned that taking a character previously deemed “villainous” and making them the hero directly juxtaposes that character with society at large in their world, most likely presenting the true premise of the story.

In a show like Wicked, we see that the Ozian society operates a lot at face value. Elphaba herself is scorned, mistreated, and considered ugly and vile simply on the way she looks no matter how much kindness she shows, whereas Glinda (Galinda at the beginning, more specifically) is heralded almost in a saintly way for her beauty and unfortunate position of having to deal with Elphaba despite her own unkind actions. We know that the Animals are being mistreated while most in society remain unaware or unbothered. As the audience should know from prior knowledge of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the Wizard himself is a con who, despite Elphaba’s best hopes, isn’t going to do anything to help the people in his country who are hurting. He even makes it abundantly clear in the song “Wonderful” that controlling the narrative people tell about you solidifies your place in history no matter what you do.

To Kristin’s point, in any story like this where society deems a character bad even when they’re the actual one helping people, there comes a point where the protagonist will no longer be able to fall into line with a status quo they believe is fundamentally wrong. Because they stand up for their beliefs and oppose the wrong system, they will automatically be a target.

We see this play out in Act 2 as Elphaba and Glinda, despite their own friendship, end up on different sides of power. Elphaba stands her moral ground and breaks away to aid those that need it, being marked as a traitor and villain. Glinda remains complacent despite her own truths and beliefs, gaining high status in the Wizard’s political world and becoming a darling of the people. Glinda gets it all- status, power, and a betrothed Fiyero- but finds herself still horribly unhappy in “Thank Goodness”. Fiyero, unable to stand the lies she’s letting people spin about Elphaba (their friend and someone he’s maybe had some feelings for), breaks their engagement and ends up joining the other side with Elphaba, whom he falls in love with. Elphaba and Glinda maybe never truly lose their friendship despite making choices that force them to be diametrically opposed (Whoops. Hamilton reference.), but they do end up unable to stand together.

Essentially, a character must be forced to a point where they have to illuminate the worst parts of their world’s society and forcibly break from it. This break will more than likely be what leads to said character being blacklisted in the way the audience knows them to be, and does not guarantee that this break brings them happiness, success, or safety. Elphaba’s decision to not comply with the Wizard gets her hunted (“March of the Witch Hunters”), nearly gets Fiyero killed (“No Good Deed”), and forces her into a position that leads to her alleged demise.

            If you’re telling a villain story, I hope talking through these two main types helped. As you can see, there’s a lot of creative ground you can cover telling the story of your bad or not-so-bad guy. Keep these considerations in mind and see what works.

            Got any favorite villain stories or villain retellings? Let us know! Thanks for reading! Write on.

            -Kamryn