ACT 3: Flawed Characters, Vile Villains, and Problematic People

Welcome to Five On Fridays, my weekly straight-no-chaser newsletter where I help demystify the publishing industry for new writers and early-career authors. Let’s jump right in.

This series began with my post about an author who wrote a “problematic character,” the readers who pointed it out, and the publisher that pulled the book series as a result. And while the things this character said were the reason for the outcry, the underlying issues went much deeper. I discussed these issues in the previous posts in the series; you can check out Part 1 here and Part 2 here. 

While I think the problematic character was the symptom and not the disease in the brouhaha that kicked this whole thing off, I do also believe it’s important to clearly understand the different types of problematic characters, what makes some of them work, and why some characters result in books being pulled. Below I outline the differences between the types of characters that are often labeled (and mislabeled) as problematic. Keep in mind, these are my opinions and definitions, others might see things differently. Also, Jane Austen and Marvel Cinematic Universe references abound below.

Flawed characters 

Every human is flawed, so every character we write should be flawed too. And let’s be real: perfect characters are boring. Few people pick up a book to read about someone’s absolutely perfect, flawless personality and life. But there’s a big difference between flawed characters and problematic characters. 

Flawed characters are imperfect beings who exhibit a range of human emotions and behavior that sometimes, maybe even often, gets them into trouble. Flawed characters say the wrong things, make bad choices, and can stubbornly refuse to see that what they want and need is right in front of their faces. (I’m looking at you, Mr. Darcy.) But flawed characters usually come around. They learn the error of their ways and make amends, and the whole while readers are rooting for them: Grand romantic gestures are one of my favorite ways to see flawed characters make amends. (I’m looking at you, Captain Wentworth.) We’re meant to like flawed characters, and even when we don’t, we’re meant to relate to them and understand what made them the way they are. Flaws are what make characters compelling and stories unputdownable.

Vile villains … but not so fast

The key difference between villains and flawed characters is that we’re not supposed to like villains. Villains do bad things to innocent people. They hurt the protagonists and the people she loves. They have no remorse or regret, and they believe the end justifies the means. And we hate them for it. Or, we’re supposed to hate them. As I mentioned last week, Black Panther’s Erik Killmonger and The Avengers’ Thanos are two villains done so well in the Marvel Cinematic Universe that audiences were arguing on the characters’ behalf after their deaths. Villains can become sympathetic when the readers know and empathize with their backstory or their mission.

Killmonger watched King T’Chaka kill his father, watched Wakanda prosper while Black citizens of the United States suffered. Moviegoers related to Killmonger’s pain, and saw themselves in his response to it. Thanos was a ruthless murderer who disappeared half the universe’s population with a snap of his fingers. He was genocidal and evil, but many fans understood his goal: Thanos believed that beings would destroy the planet if he didn’t destroy half of them first. His erasures were indiscriminate without regard to income, race, ability, or geography. But while people may have understood Killmonger’s and Thanos’s motivations, they were clearly written to be villains, killing innocent people and expressing no remorse for their actions.

Problematic characters

Not expressing remorse for their actions is one thing problematic characters have in common with villains. Problematic characters are also obviously flawed—it’s right there in the name— but often in much more egregious ways than your run of the mill flawed character. Unlike villains, though, problematic characters aren’t written as villains. From the author’s point of view, we’re supposed to like them. We’re supposed to understand their point of view. We’re supposed to swoon over them in romance novels and want to be like them in action novels. How do we know we’re supposed to like them? They get the girl or the guy or the person, in the end. They dispatch the antagonist—because there will be a clear antagonist in the story, and it’s not the problematic character—and end up on top.  

But problematic characters do and say things that are deeply flawed, and yet they never apologize. They never see the need to because in their minds, they’ve done nothing wrong. Problematic characters don’t ever get pushback from any other characters in the story, which makes it seem as if their ideologies and behaviors are acceptable, normal, or even aspirational. And problematic characters never face consequences for their actions or words.

When problematic characters and books take center stage

From Tess of the d’Urbervilles, to Lolita, to For Such a Time—the 2014 romance novel that tells the story of a Nazi concentration camp officer and a “blonde and blue-eyed Jewess” prisoner falling in love—readers have been calling attention to problematic characters for decades. Yet publishers and authors have continued to acquire, publish, and profit from these types of books. Anna Todd’s After, criticized for romanticizing verbal and emotional abuse, is a major movie franchise. Lolita, whose narrator is a pedophile, has sold over 60 million copies since its publication in 1955. And the aforementioned For Such a Time received a RITA Award nomination. For some, problematic characters and stories spell profit, and in this industry, profits often trump problems.

The consequences of mainstreaming problematic characters

Polarizing work and problematic characters can engender discussion and conversations that allow people to see different points of view. I believe people should be able to write and read problematic stories and books if they want to. But I also believe that publishers need to be clear about the difference between a flawed character, a villain, and a problematic character. Passing off a protagonist who espouses bigoted views as someone who’s simply flawed, is at best, patronizing to readers, and at worst, dangerous. Dangerous because it wants readers to swoon over a romantic lead, even if he’s a “little bit” abusive or racist. Dangerous because these types of characters serve stereotype light, the kind that goes down smooth and is easy to swallow. Dangerous because some of these stories are the gentle rewriting of history that makes former slaveholders more human than the people they enslaved, and that minimizes racism, sexism, and bigotry. Books are a powerful tool for education as well as oppression, and when authors and publishers treat problematic behavior as a simple character flaw I fear they’re opening the floodgates to what will eventually lead to the erasure of history, truth, and entire classes of people. 

That wraps up this week’s Five On Fridays. Thank you for subscribing and reading. If you found this newsletter helpful, please share it on social media and forward it to your writer friends. Happy writing!

-Grace