The Anti-Hero

by Christine Wells

I'm always fascinated by reader feedback and reviews of books I've written and read, particularly when it comes to differing perceptions of heroes and heroines. The reading experience is always a subjective one; our enjoyment of a particular story is always affected by personal experience and taste. To some, a particular hero might be weak; to others, he's sensitive and kind. Some readers won't forgive a heroine who lies, no matter what the reason; some will not tolerate a hero who sleeps around even if he did it before he and the heroine met, others dearly love a rake.

As a romance writer, I'm accustomed to aiming for the heroic ideal, or at least writing to my own standards of what I find heroic in both male and female protagonists. Of course, my characters have flaws, but in romance, reader empathy and even sympathy for the hero and heroine is as important as the happily ever after at the end.

Perhaps that's why I take particular delight in a great anti-hero when I come across one in film, television or other people's books.

I found a good definition of anti-hero on filmnoirstudies.com: The principal protagonist of a film who lacks the attributes or characteristics of a typical hero, but with whom the audience identifies. The character is often confused or conflicted with ambiguous morals, or character defects and eccentricities, and lacks courage, honesty, or grace.

One of my favourites is the character of Blackadder, written by Richard Curtis and Ben Elton and played by Rowan Atkinson. Blackadder is a ne'er-do-well scheming for money and power. He's selfish, mercenary and devious and in each episode he devises a plan 'so cunning you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel'. He is never redeemed, he almost never acts courageously or altruistically, and he fails to achieve his goal almost every time. Yet, you can't help but cheer for him on the odd occasion that he has a small win and feel his chagrin when time after time someone foils his cunning plans. That is a wonderful anti-hero.

Another fascinating anti-hero is Scarlett O'Hara. Again, she is selfish and mercenary. She does act courageously on occasion and sometimes altruistically (albeit with extreme reluctance). Despite her obvious character defects, we did hope that eventually she'd see the error of her ways and make a happy life with Rhett. No such luck, but that famous ending cemented her as an anti-hero we remember long after we close the book or the final credits roll.

Philippa Gregory's first (and best, in my opinion) historical novel, Wideacre, is another example of a fascinating anti-heroine. Beatrice Lacy is Scarlett O'Hara on crack. She stops at nothing, not even murder, to get hold of Wideacre, the estate her father owned and which her brother inherited on their father's death, according to the way such things were done in late eighteenth century England. Beatrice is horrible, selfish, single-minded and has very little in the way of redeeming features. And yet, her story is so compelling that I read it in one sitting and years later, I still remember it vividly.

House is another example of a great anti-hero. He might be rude, offensive, riddled with flaws, but his success in saving patients, even by the most underhand and unorthodox means, leads us to cheer for him in spite of it all. He says what many people think but don't dare voice. He is heroic in his competence, but his flaws threaten to destroy him and his work; he hurts people he ought to hold dear. He's a fascinating character and utterly compelling in his own way.

What about you? Tell me about your favourite anti-hero.