REGARDING BOROMIR
As promised, my post about the secret to getting a lot of attention simply by including "Boromir" in your post.
It is no secret that I love Boromir. I love him in the movies (it helps that he's played by Sean Bean, of course, who is one of my favorite actors, despite almost always playing either a villain or someone who dies before the end of the movie), but I love him even more in the books. And while I feel that Peter Jackson treated this character that I love miserably, I have been encouraged to discover that many other people out there feel the same way I do about Boromir.
In fact, of all my posts, the one that has gotten the second-most hits of all time is the one I did about Boromir, titled A Great Injustice. The only post that has done better was the one I did for the 32 Author Scavenger Hunt back in December.
Do you know what the number one search is that brings people to my site? Bet you can guess, based on the subject of this post! Yep, it is the word "boromir." It's brought people here 59 times.
I've been having a fun little "Hero or Villain" game over on my facebook page, and the first character I used was Boromir. My posts had been reaching an average of 28-40 viewers pretty much all summer. Boromir got 112.
Crazy, right?
So what is it about Boromir? What is it, really, about characters like Boromir?
What is it in us that loves the tragic villain or the tragic character so much? I think it's because we identify with them. Something within us knows that no matter which hero we'd really like to be, we're probably closer to Boromir than we'd care to admit. Like Frodo in The Two Towers when he looks at Gollum, though he feels that he ought to hate Gollum with a deep and undying passion, a part of him knows, "There, but for the grace of God, go I." And he has to hope that even Gollum can be redeemed, because if he can't, then what hope is there for Frodo?
If characters like Boromir can't be redeemed, then what hope is there for us?
As a Christian, especially, I identify most often with the more tragic characters, the redeemed or redeemable characters. I love a good redemption story. Personally, I see in them the reflection of the ultimate redemption story of all time: Christ's death on the cross for all who will believe. And I've found that I am not the only one who identifies with these characters or loves these characters. Their stories give me hope. Their stories paint a beautiful illustration of the struggle between our fallen nature and our redeemed spirits.
It's not just Boromir. There are many other characters out there who evoke this same comparison, this kind of kinship.
Take The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, for example. I love Lucy. I would love to BE Lucy. She is the emblem of childlike faith, the one who never wavers, never doubts. She is simply precious. Oh how I long to be Lucy.
But deep down, the reason I love Edmund even more is because I see myself far more clearly in him. I know I can be selfish, I can be unkind. I know I need the redemption that he experiences and I rejoice in his story because I rejoice in my own redemption. His struggle is harder. His need for Aslan is greater. And his road is far rockier... but in the end, his gratefulness is also more profound. His understanding of who Aslan is and his ability to empathize with others who have had similar struggles (take Eustace in Voyage of the Dawn Treader for example) is much deeper.
I think it is the same with many of these types of characters. We love the Aragorns and the Peters and the Lucys, we long to emulate them, we long to serve men and women like them. But for ourselves, we identify more with the Boromirs and the Edmunds. The tragedy of their plight speaks to us, moves us, in a way that is wholly different from the triumphs we experience when we read about the High King finally receiving his crown. It is not because Aragorn's struggle is any less or any easier, it is because Boromir's struggle is simply more human.
Another character like this is Severus Snape. Even before reading his final chapter, most people love him in spite of all appearances, in spite of all evidence that suggests he is a villain. His tragedy speaks to us. The way that his utter selfishness is revealed to him and causes him absolute heartbreak makes us want to wrap our arms around him and tell him that there is good in this world, and it's worth fighting for. And that there is good in him, and it's worth fighting for.
But we can't all have a Samwise Gamgee for a friend, or a Luke Skywalker for a son. And sometimes the tragic character ends... tragically.
Ky, in my own books, is just such a character. I did not mean for him to become a tragic villain, but he did. (One of my favorite parts of writing is when the story takes over and twists in a direction I never consciously intended for it to go. I know that probably sounds strange to any non-writers out there... how can a story write itself? You must be asking. Well... I can't explain it, but I can assure you that it does happen... and that it is the part of the writing process that truly feels the most like magic).
As an author who love tragic characters, this pull of the tragic character can often cause problems. I never intended Ky/Seamas to become one of my all-time favorite characters. Kamarie, Brant, Oraeyn, even Yole or Kiernan Kane seem to be far more obvious choices. But in writing Second Son, Ky ceased to be the faceless threat that he appears as in King's Warrior. He took on a personality, a depth, and even a likability that I did not expect and was unprepared for.
In short, he changed from being the ultimate villain to becoming a far more tragic character: a character that my fans accuse me of being far too unkind towards. Like Boromir, Ky just wants to protect his kingdom. He wants Llycaelon to be the glorious empire he knows it can be, and he sees himself as the rightful heir to its throne. Like Boromir, those dreams are twisted into something Ky cannot control. Corrupt advisors, a mis-understood prophecy, and the pain of perceived rejection turn Ky from the heroic, kind, friendly, older brother character that he starts out as into a bitter, suspicious, grief-filled character who is plagued by a guilty conscience over a terrible and tragic mistake he made that seems to haunt him at every turn.
I never really meant for him to be that kind of character. I did not expect to fall in love with my own villain... but then, I expected him to be a fairly straight-forward villain. Evil and corrupt through and through. But he isn't. Thankfully, considering the outrage of my fans towards my "unjust treatment" of Ky, I have been pleasantly surprised to discover that I managed to create a believable and sympathetic tragic villain by accident.
How about you? Who is your favorite tragic character? Why do you love him or her? Why do you think we are drawn to characters like this? I'd love to hear your thoughts.