by Sarah Blake Johnson
“Who are you?” said
the caterpillar.
This
was not an encouraging opening for a conversation: Alice replied rather shyly,
“I hardly know, sir,” . . .
“You!”
said the caterpillar contemptuously, “who are you?”
Few of us are as blunt as the
caterpillar, perched on top of his mushroom when he and Alice first meet in
Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in
Wonderland. Yet, in a similar fashion, when we first meet anyone, an
individual in life or a character in the pages of a book, we look for shortcuts
or easy ways to understand who the individual is. We ask questions such as
“Where are you from?” and “What is your occupation?” as we attempt to discern
identity in a short moment.
As
writers, we can also ask our characters, “Who are you?” This question is vital
because their desires, their actions, and the way they think all stem from who
they are—or, in some cases, who they are trying to be.
We
may ask, “Who are you?” subconsciously while writing. There are also times when
we consciously try to understand who our character truly is, using a variety of
approaches ranging from character worksheets to writing extra scenes to even
(perhaps when reaching a point of desperation) interrogating our characters. In
our quest to create a realistic character, we learn everything about her,
including her physical characteristics, behaviors, background, beliefs, flaws,
fears, loves and hates, yearnings and desires.
Yet
there is an aspect of characterization that is commonly overlooked: the roles a
character plays in a story. Perhaps this is because “roles” is sometimes
considered to be a dirty word (at least in some literary circles), and some
writers believe that using roles is a cheap and quick way to build a flat
character.
When
we widen our viewpoint and look at roles as an essential element of character,
we are able to consider characters and story from another, useful angle. After
all, how a character plays out her roles will demonstrate character and create
plot. In addition, interactions between characters reflect their beliefs about
their roles; characters view each other not with a mirror or through a window,
but through a prism.
Roles—an
external expression of character
Roles
are labels we use to define who someone is, a concrete way to describe a
character. In this essay, I’m not talking about archetypical or stereotypical
roles; I’m referring to the specific roles that every character plays. We often
mention our own roles when we introduce or describe ourselves. For example, I
might tell someone I am a writer (my occupation), a wife and mother (familial
relationships), an alumna of Vermont College of Fine Arts (educational
background), and an American and ex-pat (cultural and setting). These labels or
roles are only the beginning of a long list of quick shortcuts I can use to
explain who I am. Those who read my list of roles will make assumptions—probably
both right and wrong.
So
much of who we are, and who we think we are, is demonstrated by roles. This is
the same for our characters. Why, then, do we so rarely use the word “roles” or
examine the importance of roles in our stories?
Roles
describe all spheres of a character’s life: culture, ethnicity, language,
gender, and religion. Roles also include social and personal elements, such as
where one was born and where one lives, hobbies, wealth or lack of wealth,
occupation, family, and friends.
Some
roles are permanent and others are transitory. A role may be deeply ingrained
into a character’s being. A girl who is born as a middle child will always be a
younger and older sister; a character who is born and raised in the United
States is an American. Other roles come through the character’s interactions
with others, from the environments in which the character spends time, and from
the character’s unique experiences.
Whether
roles are thrust upon a character or consciously chosen, these roles define the
character, give readers insights into her society and world, and are linked to
her desires, behaviors, attitudes, and values.
Roles and
Identity
Roles
spring forth from identity. Though theories of identity are the territory of
the fields of philosophy and psychology, they are also useful to us, as
writers, as we create characters. Because of this, I’ll take a brief foray into
identity development.
Identity
appears to be straightforward on the surface: It is who someone is. There are
several definitions of identity, but for our purposes, we can use a simple
definition. Our character’s identity is who he thinks he is, as well as how he
expresses himself, and it arises from experience and the socialization
processes of his environment.
As we consider our character’s identity, it can be
helpful to keep three key points in mind:
1.
Identity is not developed in a vacuum. Identity develops through interaction
with others in the character’s physical, social, religious, and cultural
environments. A writer needs to know her characters—their backgrounds, their
history, and their current situation. The story’s setting, characters, and
culture combine to impact how the protagonist defines herself and who she is.
2.
Identity also comes from the character’s inner self. Identity includes her
personality, goals, and values, as well as her own view of herself. It is
influenced by her own desires and reinventions, her choices and unique life
experiences, her present and past.
3.
Identity is dynamic. Every individual is in the constant process of
constructing and revising his or her self. Essentially, identity develops over
time. A character’s identity won’t necessarily stay exactly the same throughout
a book. This concept in particular is valuable in understanding our character
and developing plot, especially in a novel that unfolds over a long period of
time.
In
some cases, a character’s identity is tied so closely to a role that if the
role is taken away, the character flounders and loses part of his identity. For
example, a character who defines himself as the star quarterback of his high
school football team will struggle deeply if he is injured and no longer able
to play.
Multiplicity
of Roles
Significant
characters play several roles in a story, and the mixture of a character’s
roles influences how the writer and the readers view the character. After all,
a character is, in essence, a combination of all her roles. The idea that a
character plays several roles is useful both in story development and in
understanding the nuances of the character’s identity. It also helps the writer
to avoid placing a character into a confining and potentially lifeless
stereotypical role. The layering effect of multiple roles creates real,
vibrant, textured characters, plus it produces fertile ground for internal
contradictions and struggles.
Lifelike
characters play many roles, and though each role is important, those roles may
change according to the character’s stage of life and the story’s setting. A
character who chooses to go to college takes on the temporary role of a
student, while another character who chooses to explore Europe for the summer
takes on the temporary role of a traveler.
In
addition, every role may carry different weight in the plot and in each scene
as the character adjusts the role he plays according to his current status,
situation, interaction, and desires. Just as we adjust the way we act according
to the different situations we encounter, our characters step into and out of
their roles. For example, in J.K. Rowling’s novel Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Harry acts very differently
when he is in Snape’s classroom, where he is in the role of a student, than
when he is at the Weasleys’ home, where he is in the role of a friend, or when
he is playing a Quidditch match, where he is in his role of an athlete. Though
all these roles are important in the story, Harry’s role as a wizard is key. An
awareness of a character’s many roles can help writers bring one role into
focus in one scene and switch the focus to another role at another time.
The
natural interplay of a character’s roles makes the character realistic,
especially at times when those roles tug a character in different directions or
when the roles come into conflict with each other and force the character to
make a choice. For example, a character who is forced to choose between
attending a friend’s party and playing in a sports tournament will be torn
between the roles of friend and athlete. Putting a character’s roles into
conflict can create micro-tension, demonstrate internal conflict, and keep the
reader turning pages.
Though
a character plays many roles, one or two of these roles will probably be most
vital to the story, so the writer needs to carefully choose these significant
roles. Even when other roles rise to the surface of a scene, the roles most
critical to the story will exist at all times, either on the surface or
bubbling just below.
Roles and
Narrative Structure
Roles
are embedded at the deepest level of narrative structure, so an examination of
the interplay between roles and plot can help us gain a better understanding of
our characters and our story. There are infinite ways for a writer to utilize
roles in a plot. I’ll examine four common possibilities here: changing roles,
two contradictory roles, one primary role, and a vacillating character.
Changing Roles
A
character’s attempt to change her role, and her resulting success or failure,
is at the heart of many books. The tale of Cinderella, who switched from the
role of a servant to that of a princess, is an example of this type of story.
In some cases a character will purposefully choose her role, perhaps because
she experiences an incompatibility between her real and ideal self and between
her actual and desired roles. In other instances, the role change will be
forced upon the character, and she must learn how to take on her new role and
her new identity.
Adolescence
is a stage of life when identity development and identity confusion commonly
occur, and it’s no surprise that many coming-of-age stories illustrate a
character’s desire for a different role or his search for a new way of defining
himself. Stories that include a life change, whether a character leaves for
college or gets married or takes a new job, will place the character in a
situation of switching from one substantial role to another role. This change
of role might occur at the beginning or at the end of the book, or perhaps
before the first page opens, but all these stories have the potential to
explore themes of self-discovery or re-invention.
Two
Contradictory Roles
Roles
that conflict with each other in a specific situation can make an interesting
scene, but a writer can create even more tension by using contradictory roles
on a story level.
Hanging
on to Max, a novel by Margaret Bechard, is a stellar example of this type
of book. Sam, the main character, is a teen father and a senior in high school.
Sam has many additional roles: son, nephew, friend, boyfriend. But tensions
between the roles of father and student are, in essence, the plot.
Sam
the father struggles to take care of Max, while Sam the student struggles in
school and misses being the “typical seventeen-year-old guy” who spends time
with a girlfriend and attends football games and parties.
Because
of Sam’s situation and abilities, he is unable to act in both roles for a long
period of time. The roles come with enough inherent contradictions that tough
choices emerge. It is possible for a character or situation to change so
drastically that the contradictory roles no longer oppose each other, but in
Sam’s case, the roles of father and student cannot continue to co-exist
equally. Though Sam continues to be both a father and a student, one role
ultimately becomes more prominent than the other in his life.
The
character who is torn between two significant roles gives the writer a natural
conflict upon which to build a plot, while allowing for depth of character and
inner turmoil.
One Primary
Role
In
what is perhaps the most common type of story, a protagonist plays one primary
role that is significant to both the plot line and to her character
development. This is also the type of story that is found in most genre
fiction, and it can lure unsuspecting writers into a trap of stereotypes. To
avoid creating flat characters, writers can use additional, supplementary
character roles to move the plot forward, create suspense, and flesh out
character.
Leticia,
one of three viewpoint characters in Rita Williams-Garcia’s novel Jumped, is an example of a character
whose primary role never wavers throughout the story. Like any well-rounded
character, Leticia has many roles: student, friend, daughter, self-absorbed
teen, fashion queen. Yet her primary role of a quidnunc, a passionate busybody,
is the most distinct of her roles and is critical to the plot. When Leticia
overhears Dominique planning to jump (beat up) Trina, the first thing she does
is get on her cell phone and call up her friend Bea to tell her the news.
Leticia’s role as a quidnunc is essential to the novel’s plot and theme. Her
inaction allows a tragedy to occur, but Leticia never realizes that she is
really involved because she sees herself only as an observer.
Since
this story occurs over the course of only one school day, it is logical that the
characters will have one overriding primary role. Even though one primary role
is perhaps the most common usage of roles, Jumped
serves as proof that this type of story can be told in a fresh and compelling
manner.
Vacillating
Character
In
some stories, a character switches back and forth between roles. Creating a
vacillating character can be risky. At their best, these characters are
intriguing and complex; at their worst, they are fractured and confusing to
readers.
Destiny,
the main character in The Miles Between
by Mary E. Pearson, is a character who constantly shifts roles. An unreliable
narrator, Destiny denies her parents’ deaths (for ten years) and is being
treated for mental instability, so it isn’t a surprise that her identity and
her roles vacillate. A character without a clear identity like Destiny is a
good choice to discomfit and surprise the reader. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart is
another example of a novel with a vacillating main character. In this book,
Frankie takes on various roles as she manipulates and shapes the world of her
boarding school. Frankie’s constantly shifting roles add uncertainty to the
plot and give the story a purposefully unsettled feel.
Characters
in all books play a multitude of roles, so what differentiates the vacillating
character from a typical, well-rounded character? When a character vacillates,
a different role is critical to each of the story’s turning points, and the
character will use many roles equally over the course of the story.
In
all of these examples, the character’s roles are embedded in the structure of
the story and are crucial to the choices the character makes. Each character
plays her roles as she makes decisions, acts, and moves the plot forward. A
writer who understands her character’s roles uses this knowledge (either
subconsciously or consciously) as she crafts her narrative.
Awareness and
Perception
Understanding
characters’ awareness and perception of their roles can help writers gain
insights into character, add depth to a story, and create plot twists.
Some
characters are highly aware of their roles, and they might even flaunt those
roles. This type of character will be at the center of a very different sort of
story than one in which a character isn’t aware of the roles he plays. When a
character is unaware of his primary role in a story, his journey toward
awareness may be important to his character development and to the story’s
plot. Harry Potter is an example of a character who is unaware of his role at
the beginning of Harry Potter and the
Sorcerer’s Stone. When Harry lets the boa constrictor out of its enclosure,
he acts in his role as a wizard without knowing it. He later becomes aware of
his role in a way that advances the plot and changes his self-perception.
Some
characters will try to alter how others see them: They will hide or minimize
their roles or put fake roles on display. This is one of the more common ways
in which characters wield roles: They play a role as a way to manipulate other
characters or hide their true identity. Princes or princesses in disguise are
familiar examples of this type of character.
While
a character’s awareness of her roles is where the writer figuratively controls
the light switch—the character is either aware of her roles or she isn’t—a
character’s perception of her roles
is twilight and shadows, the place where things are not as they seem.
Perception is a powerful tool. A character’s skewed perception of her roles
creates a gap between belief and reality, and the gap that arises can create
tension or humor or even plot, especially when a character views her roles
differently than other characters do.
A
character’s perception of her role is a window into her identity. Does she
value her role? Hate it? Does she think her role is different than what it
really is? A character’s self-perception can affect her actions.
In
Jumped, Rita Williams-Garcia explores
the gap between a character’s roles and her perception of those roles. Another viewpoint character, Dominique,
views herself as a victim, but no one else sees her that way. They see her as a
tough girl, basketball player, student, girlfriend, and athlete—all roles that
Dominique also claims.
Dominique
wants to lash back at Trina, who she felt invaded her personal space, and she
also feels victimized when she is benched because one of her grades is a few
points too low. She views herself as a victim through the end of the book, yet
her perception that she was victimized—which is why she jumps Trina at the end
of the school day—differs from how other characters and most readers will
perceive her.
When
a character’s view of herself isn’t in line with her real role, she might be an
unreliable narrator. The gap between what a character believes and what other characters
perceive is a perfect breeding ground for tension, ambiguity, and conflict.
Supporting
characters’ perceptions matter too, and their perceptions will affect all of
their interactions. Do other characters see the protagonist in the same role
that she believes she is playing? Writers can play with characters’ differing
perceptions in order to build conflict and deepen plot.
Related
to perception is the important concept of status, or how most characters will
view and value a role. Depending on the story’s culture and setting, some roles
will be perceived as more desirable than others, and the way others treat and
view a character will often reflect that character’s status.
It
is natural for characters’ perceptions of themselves and others to change over
the course of a story. In Alice’s
Adventures in Wonderland, for example, Alice’s view of the Queen of Hearts
changes. At first Alice is scared of the Queen, but at the end of the book, she
realizes that the Queen is only a playing card. This type of change in
perception is often a result of a character’s growth, and it frequently serves
as a story’s turning point.
Though
we don’t often consciously consider awareness and perception when we develop
characters or structure stories, they can significantly influence our
characters and plots. As we write our stories, we need to remember that all roles are tainted by perception.
Back
to Alice:
“Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great
puzzle!” . . .
“It'll
be no use their putting their heads down and saying ‘come up, dear!’ I shall
only look up and say 'who am I then? answer me that first, and then, if I like
being that person, I'll come up: if not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody
else . . . ’ cried Alice with a sudden burst of tears . . .
What
is your character’s answer to the question, “Who are you?” Does he give you a
list of roles, or does he mention one role that is most important to him? Are
the roles the same ones that you, the writer, believe the character plays? How
do these roles influence narrative?
Not
only are roles integral to plot, but roles also affect how a character is
viewed by the world and how characters view, categorize, and interact with
other characters. On a macro level, roles can add meaning to story and give
insight to theme. As writers we need to be aware of the dynamic part that roles
can play as we develop character and craft narrative.
Note: This essay was first published by Vermont College of Fine Arts literary magazine, Hunger Mountain, in 2012. I'm posting it here since they changed their website and it is no longer at it's earlier link on their website. Thanks for reading. ~Sarah
