Shakespeare's Couples: Henry VI and Margaret

I read somewhere that Henry VI was Shakespeare's idea of a truly virtuous king.

I'm not sure Shakespeare would agree. The Hollow Crown portrays him as sweet-natured and sincere but troublingly naive. He tries to bring his magnates together but doesn't understand the underlying politics and isn't tough or honest enough to take a position that could result in violence since he would then have to defend that decision. Dante would have stuck Henry VI in a circle of hell that punishes those who undermine or ignore the need for social order. 

Henry VI is married to Margaret of Anjou, who was chosen for him by her lover. Towards her, Henry VI is bashful and romantic while she is...

Bored by him.

As a romantic, I could wish that like a tough Christie heroine, Margaret would be happy to marry a sweet guy who won't challenge her but rather give her safe harbor and scope to do as she wishes. 

But she isn't, and she isn't happy in a very believable way. She is tough, clever, manipulative, a chess player (the queen figure that moves!). She is derisive of Henry and can't shed her derision. She is such a strong character that some critics think that Shakespeare really wrote the plays (Henry VI, Parts 1 and 2) about her. Hey, he even brought her back in Richard III! And the critics have a point. In The Hollow Crown, which is fairly faithful to the plays, Margaret starts out out-maneuvering various ladies at court. The politics are as petty as all politics; they are also a fight over who will control Henry and therefore, the throne. She eventually burns down a guy's house and slaughters him.

I'd never seen a production of Henry VI, in part because I thought it was about a sweet king being manipulated by evil advisors and...okay, it is a play about a sweet king being manipulated by evil advisors (The Hollow Crown is also incredibly violent, showing what Shakespeare has characters describe; I skipped through the last hour or so). But the play is about more than sweetness and evil. Everyone, including Margaret, has legitimate grounds for their particular agenda: a wish to survive, too-long memories and grudges as well as past reason to distrust and fear, lack of better options, loyalty. Advisors play off against each other, creating distractions from more important issues. And many of them behave as decently as they can in the moment.

Shakespeare understood human behavior, including the wretchedness of political behavior (it's rather astonishing that more of his plays weren't banned by the powers-that-be but he was clever enough to use the past for his criticisms and to cloak his plots in apparent symbolism about something else). 

Shakespeare's realism here is why I'm not a big fan of royalty romances--contending with real-life politics is demoralizing. Bonding with a royal can in fact be dangerous--to health, rationality, emotional stability, and one's actual life. In real life, Henry VI and Margaret got along okay since they shared interests in intellectual pursuits and art. I still suspect--William and Kate aside--that these royal relationships are inherently kind of awful. 

Powerhouse!

The Dysfunctional Relationship that Works: Ten Count

Generally speaking, I'm not a fan of dysfunctional relationships. As I state in my post about Violence & Romance, 

Romantic love can't solve everything. It can't wipe out years of abuse. It can't overcome drug addiction. A person who has suffered such problems needs time and space to sort themselves out. Often, running into a relationship will only compound the problems, even sabotage the new relationship. Drowning people can drag other people down with them.

In books of this type, the trope "I saw someone across the room and knew we should be together" stops being cute and becomes intensely selfish, even skin-crawling. Sure, the object of the pursuit will cave--that's what vulnerable people do. Doesn't mean it's right.  

In addition, as I point out in a review of a light novel, if a person falls in love with someone with serious dysfunctions, might the person be in love with the dysfunctions? Or in love with the role of rescuer? What happens when the lover improves?  

Kudos to Ten Count by Rihito Takarai for tackling this issue upfront and quite honestly. Shirotani and Kurose become linked when Kurose promises to "cure" Shirotani of his OCD. In truth, he can't, which both men know (though Shirotani does get better). But years earlier, Kurose met a man who appeared to also be germaphobic. Kurose initiates a relationship with Shirotani based on the nostalgia and guilt and even attraction associated with that teenage encounter. 

His "patient," then boyfriend, is aware of Kurose's past. Consequently, one of the most touching scenes in the series is when Kurose confesses, "You are nothing like him." 

The behavior tics may have brought them together--and may in fact still define HOW they communicate--but Kurose fell for Shirotani (and Shirotani fell for Kurose) for his specific personality. The foibles are part of the attraction/charm, not the only thing that matters.

Character Transformation in Romance: When It Works

I point out in several posts that one reason I will walk away from an author/series is the abandonment of the character. That is, the author starts using a character for an often completely unrelated agenda by giving the character attitudes and behavior inconsistent with the character's earlier attitudes and behavior. 

The issue here is complicated by the fact that people do change. 

They change in terms of age. They change in terms of focus (what they care about, what they have time for). They even change by improving: shedding bad habits; acquiring good habits; treating others' better; treating themselves better. 

In Niffenegger's Time Traveler's Wife, the wife is at first somewhat disappointed when she meets her husband in chronological time. He isn't the older, wiser, gentle, mature guy she has grown up knowing. She knows what is coming, however, and waits for him to become that guy. 

Generally speaking, I do not advocate marriages built on "in the future, she/he might...."  In this case, what Clare knows about the man is something of a given. She still takes a leap of faith. But she isn't signing up for a complete unknowable. 

And, from a writing point of view, Henry doesn't instantly become somebody else. He is THAT guy, simply younger.

What keeps a character a character, even while that character matures? 

In my review of "Humbug," a Scrooge-tribute, I wrote that the novella succeeds because the author, Joanna Chambers, doesn't abandon the (thirty-odd) Scrooge's base personality: 

Chambers characterizes her thirty-something Scrooge, Quin, as inherently obsessive. That is, his personality is such that no matter what he does, he has to go at it to the nth degree. He gets into the consulting game by accident but once he is there, of course, he's going to be the best consultant ever whose team is also the "best". He's on the fast-track to becoming a manager.

Problem: the gig isn't totally in line with his personality, so he becomes--as characters in the story repeatedly tell him--a "dick." He later tells Rob, the Bob Crachit character, "I think [this job] brings out the worst in me."  Instead of becoming the kind of leader whose team is the best because they admire him and feel appreciated, he becomes (is becoming) the kind of leader who wrings work out of people through unreasonable demands and sheer sarky irritation. He is acting in accordance with what he believes to be the "role" of manager--and he does it well, but it makes him absolutely unpleasant to be around.

After his epiphany, he returns to his first plan to be a math teacher. And here is where Joanna Chambers really knocks the characterization out of the park: because of course, Quin has to be the BEST teacher. Only this time, what he wants and what he brings to the table are in line. He'll get in his students' faces ("They'll love you," Rob says, "because you're sarky"). He'll get in their parents' faces. He'll tick off the school board but still win. The aggressive energy that makes him unlikable in one field (that he doesn't feel at home in) will make him an excellent advocate in another.

That is, the triumph (and difficulty) of the character who changes is that the character remains the character, only better. 

A spouse can get better--but not because the spouse turns into someone else. The spouse is THAT PERSON improved, not "what I really wished I'd married instead."

Frenemies: Competitive Lovers

Gilbert and Anne not only get into various arguments and scraps. They compete academically. This type of competition shows up in several manga/BL stories. 

In Fake Fact Lips by Machi Suehiro, Ryo and Zen have been competing since high school. Ryo feels pressure by his father. Zen is trying to make his mark after growing up in his older brother's shadow. Zen is belligerent and self-conscious but his achievements are honestly pursued. Without realizing the impact of his words, Zen encourages Ryo to compete for the same reason. Rather than trying to satisfy a father who can never be satisfied, why not make Zen his rival? 

Ryo does, especially after he realizes that competition is a form of communication with Zen.

I have my doubts about competitive lovers. When does the competition cross the line into dysfunction, as in the CSI episode where the boyfriend causes his girlfriend's death when he redraws her hiking map? When does competition simply become too wearisome? 

Fake Fact Lips works for several reasons: Ryo and Zen are honest with each other; the competition continues to be a language of connection and flirtation; the competition is healthy in the sense that it involves achievement (constructive results) rather than negation (destructive or absent results). 

The healthy form of competition here is quite common in manga. In Yuri on Ice, competition inspires the two lovers as well as binding them together. In Free, which has no romance, competition inspires the somewhat drifting Haruka Nanase to connect to his future.

Like with all frenemies, however, the competition could go sour. As long as it doesn't...it works! 

One-Sided Enemies: Gilbert & Anne

On Votaries, I discuss Anne from Anne of Green Gables. 

This repost is about Gilbert & Anne, the couple.

***

Gilbert & Anne fall under the "Frenemies to Friends or Lovers" category, but in fact, most of the eneminess is on Anne's side.

The one-sided nature of "frenemies" is actually quite common. Darcy falls for Elizabeth once he gets to know her as something more than an abstract member of a dance he was forced to attend. Most of the enemy behavior in Avatar: The Last Airbender comes from Zuko rather than Aang. Rochester in Jane Eyre acts like a frenemy because he doesn't know what else to do. 

The distinction matters because frankly, I've always found it difficult to believe that strident enemies can find common ground. Truly negative behavior isn't something a lover, at least, should intelligently ignore. One doesn't walk back into a situation where one can be damaged or frightened.

Zuko can be believably folded into the group because Aang never bore him animosity, leaving openings for Zuko to actually return to his baseline personality rather than the angry guy he is trying to be. 

Likewise, Gilbert is enamored with Anne from the beginning. In the series, at least, he literally tries to "pull her pigtails." He is less sophisticated than Rochester but pretty much operating out of the same ballpark. 

Jonathan Crombie, who sadly died in 2015, gives Gilbert a perfect combination of light teasing and romantic yearning. He always wants to be close to Anne.

Mystery Couple: Alleyn & Troy

Many, many mysteries have a romance--either the detective falls in love with someone or one of the suspects falls in love with another suspect.

Some of the most famous couples in literature come from mysteries. 

On Votaries, I discuss Ngaio Marsh's Alleyn. 

Here I'll discuss Alleyn and Troy. 

An artist, Troy meets Alleyn first on-board a ship and then when he investigates a murder at her workshop for students. Alleyn falls for Troy immediately. She takes longer to come around. Marsh rather half-heartedly puts Troy's uncertainty down to a dislike of Alleyn's job (the murder committed at her workshop is rather horrific). Marsh has Alleyn continue to believe that Troy hates his profession. 

As with Alleyn the character, Marsh is a better writer with Troy than she seems aware. That is, Marsh writes Troy as a solid character whose reserve and diffidence are ingrained. When she tries to explain Troy, she doesn't appear to know what she has created. Troy is a shy woman for whom marriage is not a necessity--due to an inheritance and a vocation. However, unlike Harriet Vane, who struggles with her options, Troy isn't opposed to marriage because of her past. Troy struggles because, hey, marriage is a big leap.

That is, in many ways, Troy's reaction is more similar to that of a Japanese manga character (relationships are HARD--do I really want to go down that path?) than to a Western character suffering from trauma.

I quite like Belinda Lang as Troy in the BBC series. Lang is now the adorable and amusing Mrs. Clam on Sister Boniface.  

The Problem of Ross & Rachel: Why It Still Doesn't Work

Julia Roberts shows up, Friends, Season 2

I discuss the rival-character on Votaries. I was reminded of Ross & Rachel whose entirely dysfunctional relationship relied to a degree on jealousy over rivals. 

Here is a repost from 2017. 

* * *

I recently rewatched most seasons of Friends (with self-censoring). It is a remarkably well-written and well-cast show, especially for its time period, 1994-2004. Friends slightly precedes the years when television became the massive money-maker it is now. This may sound odd to the younger generation, but when Michael J. Fox (intelligently) returned to television to star in Spin City in 1996, his decision was still considered rather daring. A television star who made it to the movies going BACK to television?! (That he'd been diagnosed with Parkinson's was not known by the general public until 1998.)

Now, no one thinks anything of Fox's courageous choice. So Friends--with its Hollywood guest stars--was oddly and impressively prescient, and was from Season 1. The network obviously decided to do what all shows wish the network would do for them: back it to the hilt.

David Schwimmer as the Holiday Armadillo

Having said that, I find it almost impossible (still) to watch Ross & Rachel together. Jennifer Aniston is a fine comedienne and David Schwimmer is surprisingly willing to be the Don Knotts of the show--although Don Knotts is more charming.

As a couple, they grate. I self-censored nearly every one of the "fighting" episodes--and a number of the "wondering if we should be a couple" ones as well.

Why? As Eugene points out, failure to mature is the main reason. On an episode to episode basis, what becomes increasingly unbearable re: Ross and Rachel is the ridiculous business of both characters waiting for some special lightning bolt from the blue to decide "we are in love."

They date. They're friends. They care for each other. They sleep together. They have a baby. They live in the same apartment for a number of months. But they can't marry because "it doesn't feel right"?

It's a level of emotional self-indulgence that makes the brain melt. What exactly are they waiting for? As far I can tell, they are waiting for a single subjective moment that writes "I feel it! I feel it!" on their souls--which makes me doubt that the (final) marriage will last more than two seconds. After all, subjective feelings are prone to wax and wane. How long will it be before the writing fades?

Elizabeth hearing praises of Darcy

from his housekeeper.

Compare this with Elizabeth, who was likely always attracted to Darcy but acknowledges her feelings when she encounters his good reputation at Pemberley. It isn't his wealth (although Elizabeth herself jokes about that possibility) but his decent behavior that confirms her (subjective) feelings. Her respect for him grows until she can answer her father's incredulity ("Let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life") by "relating her absolute certainty that [Darcy's] affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months’ suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities."

Compare Rachel & Ross with Booth in Bones who doesn't immediately leave Hannah the moment Bones confesses her feelings to him. The man doesn't substitute a lightning bolt for loyalty and commitment. 

From manga, compare R&R to Fumi Yoshinaga's What Did You Eat Yesterday in which Shiro's desire to keep the relationship growing (partly because he hates the idea of having to start over) leads him to spend extra money on fresh peaches for Kenji (Shiro is a cheapskate so this is a big deal). His later resolution to spend New Year's Eve with Kenji--rather than his parents--is handled with maturity: he invests in his partner.

And from anime, compare R&R to Taeko and Toshio from Only Yesterday who slowly discover similarities as well as differences to admire during Taeko's vacation in Yamagata. In the end, they indicate a willingness to further a relationship of mutual respect.

Love and attraction is part of the equation in all these cases. The difference between them and Ross & Rachel is that the believable relationships don't rest upon some arbitrarily designated moment that may or may not arrive. Initial love/attraction plays a role, but the actual relationship is the result of investment and the additional perception, "I am lucky to have found this person." At the core is (to go old school) high regard, a quality I simply don't believe Rachel and Ross have for each other.