Reflection: Viewing Characters

I have been musing on characters. If you’ve been reading along so far, you probably already know that I tend to talk about characters a lot, considering the vast majority of the blogs I’ve written so far have touched on that subject in some way or another. But this week I want to touch on how we view the characters we know and love, as well as what to consider regarding how those characters view themselves.

Let’s back up. What started this line of thinking for me was my family and I, purely by coincidence, ended up watching the latter seasons of Star Trek: Voyager parallel to the latest season of Star Trek: Picard. I’m not going to get into any spoilers, but if you’re a Trekkie, you can probably already see where this is going. So, in the last few seasons of Voyager, you’re introduced to a new character called Seven of Nine (Jeri Ryan), a human who was captured by the Borg when she was very young and essentially has to relearn everything about being human. Just at that alone, Seven is an extremely interesting character as she fumbles to find humanity, individuality, and regain all that was taken from her. But, because we watched Picard at the same time, I got to see a sort-of fledgling Seven directly paralleled to a version of herself later in cannon that is very self-actualized in humanity and skills and has matured to one of the kick-butt established heroes. Getting to see that direct comparison of a character moving from a sort of childlike, unsure stage of character development to one of the most confident veterans of the story was wildly interesting, and something I stumbled across just by inadvertently watching two shows at the same time.

So, lengthy though that explanation was, getting to see this progression really got me thinking about characters and their full arcs, but more specifically, what they go through and how they’re viewed.

Now, taking a character like Seven, just because I got to see the beginning and most current stages of her character arc in tandem, doesn’t mean she knew where her character was going. I mean, we’re talking about 20+ years of television here between these shows. In fact, Seven’s journey of reclaiming her humanity begins kind of rocky, being as there’s a period where it’s not clear she even wanted to be rescued. And, even as a much more mature character, humanity still isn’t an easier thing to get used to. But still, you see a character struggling almost every moment to fit in and understand the people around her eventually become extremely capable and empathetic, plus rising to the upper echelons of Starfleet. That is a darn great character arc.

But that’s taking into account an audience viewing a character though the complete cycle of their character growth. How do you do that though? What factors need to be considered when you’re talking about viewing characters?

One of the first things to keep in mind might be a bit of common knowledge, but I first came across this idea in The Art of Dramatic Writing by Lajos Egri. This is a book I’m probably going to need to re-read as apparently I did not quite finish it the first time around, but this is a book specifically regarding play writing that I found interesting at the time I originally read it. The point illustrated is that the potential for where your character is going to end up needs to be there inside them from the beginning. For example, if you have a cowardly character that’s going to eventually be a hero, something heroic does need to be there deep down from the start.

Isn’t that a crazy thought?

As a writer, you need to learn your character, where you’re planning on taking them, and begin laying out the factors they’ll need to eventually become that actualized character. Take Seven, for example, though she doesn’t start as a character given to emotion, empathy, or human failings, she has to constantly deal with this ongoing battle of how to not shut those things down in her day-to-day relationships. She doesn’t understand or maybe even like those factors at the beginning, but she does possess those qualities to grow into.

Okay, that’s an outside and inside view of a character from the audience and writer’s perspective. Let’s shift a little bit and talk about the characters themselves.

Every character is going to view themselves a certain way, same as you or I do. Other characters are going to view this character a certain way, which may inform how their journey proceeds.

In some instances, I think this might come into play more than others. For example, if you have a character that is very self-conscious and a major part of their development is overcoming or accepting their feelings about themselves, then that might be a huge deal. How other characters treat them would drastically affect their feelings and journey. Do other people like them? How are they viewed socially, physically, economically, etc.? Do you have a “Chosen One” type character who has no idea how small, seemingly unimportant them could be the long-prophesied hero? Or a love interest who has no idea how they’re going to win over their true love’s parents because they’re from the wrong side of the tracks?

All of those questions could be a well-spring of inspiration for how a character or those around them view themselves, but that’s taking things fairly at face value. What about “hidden” character arcs?

In general, there are some phases of character development we as the reader might not be privy to, especially if that character isn’t someone who gets to narrate, but by hidden arcs, I’m more referring to pieces of a character we don’t immediately get to see or are actively concealed until the moment is right.

One of the best examples I can think of this is my absolute favorite from the Riordan-verse. Get excited, people. We’re talking about Annabeth.

Yes, I know Annabeth Chase is literally the most prominent character in the series, second to Percy himself, but if you look at the way she’s written, she is a wild character to analyze in terms of writing technique. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Annabeth is one of Rick Riordan’s most complexly written characters. I’m convinced of it. Here’s why:

We first meet Annabeth in book one of the first Percy Jackson series, and she’s pretty much there the entire time. Annabeth is Percy’s rock- she’s the brain of the group, one of the most experienced demigods there is, and is pretty much calm, cool, and collected through the vast majority of terrible things the two of them accidentally wander into over the course of the first five books. Unless there’s spiders, that is, but I digress. Everything is fixable if Annabeth is there to figure it out, right?

Well, for five whole books that’s exactly what we believe about her because that is what Percy tells us to believe about her. We view Annabeth as this capable, cool-headed, ready to conquer anything person because that’s how Percy sees her. His opinion of her colors everything we perceive about her for the first seven books of the Riordan-verse until Annabeth finally starts narrating for herself in Book 3 of Heroes of Olympus, The Mark of Athena. As Annabeth finally starts telling her own story herself, you suddenly start to realize that the things Percy sees and admires in Annabeth are not always what she sees herself. Annabeth, in her own eyes, can be anxious and unsure in a way you never see through Percy’s opinion of her, which is almost a little funny since she literally goes through hell during that book. Well, maybe not literally- I guess that’s the next book. (I’m sorry, I know that joke was mean.)

Also, because Annabeth’s telling her own story, you get a completely new context for the things Percy’s told you about her that extend beyond what he knows. Literally, the real reason behind the spiders is tragic. And, this is getting a little more back toward first series, but this is why I say Annabeth is one of, if not the most, complex Rick Riordan characters- a lot of what she initially tells Percy (and the reader) is a lie. Here’s the deal though…she doesn’t really seem to know she’s lying. She’s viewed her past through trauma and hurt and convinced herself that a lot of where she was prior to Camp Half-Blood was all bad, which allows her to slowly work against those false assumptions and heal later.

I love talking about Annabeth because she’s such an interestingly written character. Think about it though, until she starts talking for herself absolutely everything you know about her is informed by Percy and his views of her. What’s funny, is I also found this shaped your assumptions about other things that were not particularly relevant to the main storyline. For instance, when I started reading Magnus Chase, I was a little bit surprised that Annabeth had a large extended family, and I think that’s because Percy and most of the other demigods do not. Annabeth is a character that I think you learn something new about every time she pops up within the story, so I really love that she’s constantly evolving as a character in what you know about her. Maybe some of that is because she’s a character you’ve followed from basically twelve to eighteen, and there’s a lot of growth to cover between child and adult. But she always surprises you, and that’s fabulous writing, right there.

Other than what you know about a character being shaped by other characters, there’s also expectation and experience. I was trying to think of a really good example of this and I never quite found one I was happy with, but I think it’s really interesting when you have a character that behaves a certain way because that’s how the other characters think of them. For example, the “Everyone thinks I’m bad, so that’s how I’ll be” trope, or vice versa.

This isn’t quite the same deal, but Lilac in These Broken Stars (Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner) is willing to actively torpedo certain aspects of her life out of fear of her father’s retaliation. The true scope of that isn’t fully revealed until further into the story, but you know her tentativeness about her life does stem from him. Looking at another Rick Riordan example, Ana in Daughter of the Deep was actively regarded as sort of a “spare” to the Dakkar family legacy, and therefore, didn’t receive the same level of attention and training her older brother did. To be fair, some of this is because she wasn’t old enough, but still, this leaves her grappling with feelings of unpreparedness and insecurity of being the “wrong sibling” for the situation.

All this is to say, think about the scope of who your characters are and where they’re going. You don’t have to know where exactly they’ll end up- like I said, a character like Seven of Nine spans decades of storytelling- but wherever you start them, it has to be fully plausible that they have the potential to end up where they end up as a fully actualized character.

As you write your characters, or even just read the ones you love, think about how your assumptions and expectations are being shaped. Do you have an Annabeth situation where there’s plenty of room to hit your readers with unexpected information because someone’s shaping what you know about them? Or, also in Annabeth’s case, how truthful is the character being with themself and others? Do you have a character like Lilac who’s hidden past forces them to act in ways that may not immediately be understood or an Ana, whose fighting against their own self-doubt as well as that of others?

Thinking about how readers see your characters, as well as how the characters and those around them see themselves, is a great way to play around with information and personal growth. Are there any other great examples of character journeys that you know about? Any books or shows that handle it particularly well? Let us know!

Thanks for reading. Write on.

-Kamryn