Shakespeare's Couples: Altaira & Adams

Forbidden Planet is based on Shakespeare's The Tempest. 

I consider Altaira and Commander Adams a more than decent sci-fi couple. 

Here's why (repost form  2020):

One of the things that bugs me about many so-called feminists is how susceptible they are to superficialities.

What's also sad is how far these superficialities creep into the culture, so people adopt them without thinking. 

A few years ago, I showed a clip of Forbidden Planet in class. In the clip, Anne Francis as Altaira walks across the floor to speak to Leslie Nielsen's Captain Adams.  

"What do you see?" I said.

All the students could come up with was her short skirt--oh, it is so sexist--and her supposed demureness, based, I suppose, on her blondness and high voice. Or the fact that the man is taller than she (Leslie Nielsen at 6'1"). Or that the two hug. I really have no idea.

They entirely missed her direct gaze; her level, clear voice; her willingness to argue; her nearly proprietary caress, the fact that she controls the situation.

Anne Francis, like other great sci-fi heroines, took the role and made it her own. To miss these obvious clues for the sake of cliches is to ignore her contributions: how she helped create a great film, her steady career as a working actress.

She and a non-joking Leslie Nielsen convey a workable relationship--she isn't a damsel in distress, no matter her temporary role. She's a working partner. 

Sato: Transformation to Normal Teen

One of the most fascinating transformations in manga is Sato in His Favorite. 

Sato starts out as a not atypical manga/yaoi/shojo figure: the tall, handsome, aloof, sarcastic, slightly sadistic, intelligent guy who finds ordinary mortals somewhat perplexing. House, MD--but younger. He starts out, in fact, as a kind of non-changing Sherlock Holmes. 

He doesn't stay that way. As he dates Yoshida, he becomes more and more teenager-ish. He gets enthralled by the school trip. He enjoys fireworks. He gets upset and jealous over everyday spats. His peers begin to interact with him more naturally, so that at one point, they defend Yoshida when Sato tries to tease him! Sato even has his own "clique" in which he comes across less as the "pretty boy" and more as a gangling, normally awkward guy who gets invested in the group's various ups and downs and interests. 

The transformation here isn't a mistake. Although His Favorite is one of the funniest ongoing pastiches and spoofs of teenage manga tropes, Sato's transformation from a somewhat nihilistic, indifferent young man to a regular teenage boy is applauded by Yoshida and the author. At one point, the teenage girls bemoan that Sato has lost his superior edge, the "suave" behavior that made him so initially attractive. Sato is disconcerted--but his transformation is already too far gone. He can't go back.

No longer a budding sociopath but a teenage boy with a "favorite," Sato--due to honest, say-it-like-it-is, down-to-earth Yoshida (with whom he has normal fights)--has joined humanity.

Jessica Fletcher: Rational Good Sense & A Great Role Model

I mention earlier that one of the dumber tropes is, Everything the good guys want is automatically good/right.

Along the same lines, I really appreciate when a character doesn't automatically know who is good/right (as mentioned earlier, Gibbs does but at least Bellisario established this "gift" as an established part of Gibbs' personality early on).  

I have always appreciated that Jessica Fletcher doesn't automatically like the good guys and detest the bad guys. When she defends the student, David Tolliver--creepily well-played by Andrew Stevens--she doesn't do it because she has fallen for him. In fact, she is quite stern with him and makes clear at the end that they are not close. 

With the far more charismatic Dennis Stanton, the moment she finds out about the theft and murder in a hotel, she tells the police about his cat-burglar ways. She doesn't wring her hands over a self-inflicted emotional dilemma: "Oh, he showed up so suddenly and romantically! I know in my heart he is a good guy! How can I give up such a handsome man? He TOLD me that he was innocent!"

She behaves rationally. And Dennis Stanton (unlike David) proves that he is a real gentleman because he doesn't hold her immediate non-waffling level-headed decisions against her. Of course not! 

Jessica is not silly.   

  

The Transformation of Leonie from These Old Shades

On Votaries, I am examining characters who transform/don and discard disguises. Women in disguise are a common trope in romance. 

Leonie from These Old Shades doesn't change in personality. She does transform from girl-dressed-as-boy to girl-dressed-as girl.  Justin Alastair, Duke of Avon immediately identifies her true sex. His friend, Hugh, takes a little longer. By the time Alastair delivers Leonie to his sister, a number of people in Leonie's life have already seen through his disguise. 

That is, the transformation is not like Viola's in Twelfth Night, the ultimate revelation that she actually is female. For Leonie, giving up her disguise means she must accept a change in roles.

Leonie weeps bitterly when Alastair gently informs her that she will stay with his sister and be introduced to womanhood. In the long run, Leonie is comfortable with the transition. In the short run, Heyer captures the pain of change, whether due to circumstances or age.  

Heyer's triumph is that Leonie remains herself: honest, active, a little bloodthirsty, and utterly devoted to Alastair. She learns to dance. She enjoys "dressing up." She learns that she is pretty and enjoys her prettiness. 

She sheds her disguise when she accepts the inevitability of change. She does not shed her fundamental character.   

Uki Ogasawara's Black Sun

I am reviewing romance "paperbacks"--that is, romance books that do not fall into the "acceptably literary" tradition. 

I love Austen and Heyer and Bronte. 

But I also love romances that don't necessarily fall into the category of so-called Great Literature.

I've reached "U" authors, and I admit to being somewhat stymied. Not many "U" authors at all, let alone in romance! 

I gave myself permission to go with first names as well as last names and to go to manga (which generally speaking, I have been reviewing separately). 

Black Sun by Uki Ogasawara is one of my favorite yaoi manga. One reason is that the characters have distinct personalities and retain those personalities through the 2 volumes. (One problem I note with romance is when characters become instantly "cute"--and follow a script--the moment they fall in love.) 

Below is character analysis from one of my earliest posts on this blog:

Jamal and Leonard's seemingly unlikely compatibility in Black Sun is highlighted by their easy physical "banter."

Character development plays a role here. Despite his spiritual and idealistic nature, Leonard is more than capable of keeping up with Jamal physically. Leonard may have a sweet and ethereal disposition; his desire for touch, for affection, has been a fundamental aspect of his personality from childhood. 

Jamal's larger-than-life persona at first evokes hero-worship from Leonard. But Jamal doesn't want to be set on a pedestal (it's so boring). He provides Leonard with a down-to-earth reality that Leonard never anticipated and finds incredibly restful.

At the end of Black Sun, Leonard still retains his quiet, Gilly-like nature. But he has learned to gently and cleverly tease Jamal back.  

Trios are All the Rage

Speaking of Leverage...

Lately, more and more shows are presenting the trio rather than the duo, the set of three who take on the world together. Sometimes, a romance is involved or implied. However, since I despise romantic triangles, the four trios I chose here don't rely on the romantic triangle to keep the trio functioning. 

Leverage: Parker, Hardison, and Eliot form a unit, especially in the later seasons. In one episode, they solve the case without Nat and Sophie's help. Eliot becomes the de facto leader, but he is less Mastermind and more the guy who knows how to pull everyone together.  Their group is far more democratic than Nat's group, in part because Nat has trained them to go it alone. 

My Roommate is a Detective: Qiao, Lu Yao and Youning form a unit against the world. Qiao and Lu Yao are the linchpins, being the Watson and Holmes. However, I was quite touched that one of the later episodes heavily implies that circa World War II, Lu Yao will use his contacts to get Qiao, his best friend, and Youning, his wife, out before the Battle of Shanghai, the occupation by the Imperial Japanese Army, and what would shortly become Mao's China. They are functioning members of their social orders--city, family, police force, gang--but ultimately, they will save each other. 

Mysterious Ways: Declan, Peggy, and Miranda. I adore this show and was able to get the DVDs on eBay. It is Adrian Pasdar at his finest since it combines his Hallmark side with his Profit side. The guy can get dark! In some ways, it is X-Files lite, but it has its own vibe and mandate. The three form a believable friendship with no competition. 

Chihayafuru: Chihaya, Arata, and Taichi. I hesitated with Chihayafuru since an underlying romantic rivalry does partly define the relationship between Arata and Taichi, who both are drawn to Chihaya. However, ultimately, the rivalry--at least in Season 1--is a source of inspiration rather than contention. The three formed a bond that is unbreakable, whatever the ups and downs--and whether or not they literally compete against each other. The chivalry here is reminiscent of Coach's line: "We played great. They played better. That's the way the game is supposed to be."

The Transformation of Gilly from Heyer's The Foundling

On Votaries, I am discussing characters that transform. A character that transforms too much may leave the readers confused. A character that transforms too little may leave the readers disappointed. 

Gilly from Georgette Heyer's The Foundling is a great example of a character who transforms just enough. 

Gilly’s uncle and trustee feels compelled to protect Gilly’s inheritance as the Duke of Sale. (His own son, who also supports Gilly, would inherit if the uncle was less protective and upright.) 

Gilly is a soft-spoken young man who has been coddled and watched-over all his life. He eventually goes “walk-about,” leaves his protective supporters, to have an adventure of his own. 

The book is one of Heyer's travelogues, which means that Gilly encounters a con-man and a damsel in distress. He engages in several adventures and acquits himself. 

At the end, when he returns home, his uncle attempts once again to "help" Gilly through blustering goodwill. Gilly finally lays down the law and makes it clear that he, not his uncle, is the Duke of Sale.  

What makes the scene so perfect, however, is that Gilly remains Gilly:

The Duke raised his head and met his uncle's fierce look with one so icily aloof that Lord Lionel was startled. "I have borne enough!" he said, his voice still level and low-pitched, yet anger throbbing in it. "I will not endure any longer this ceaseless thwarting of my every wish. I am fully sensible, sir, of the great debt I owe you for your unremitting care of me...but my gratitude would be increased tenfold if you would bring yourself to believe that I am neither a child nor a fool...It is not I who stands in danger of forgetting that I am Ware of Sale!" 

Lord Lionel is taken aback. But he is a fair-minded man: 

"I never saw you look so like your father before....Ware of Sale, indeed. There, stop glaring at me, Gilly. I have a good mind to box your ears."

The rigid look vanished from the Duke's face. 

He quickly accepts his uncle's olive branch. He continues to speak in a sweet and low way that is more effective than shouting the place down. He doesn't transform into a perfectly confident, perfectly extroverted, perfectly commanding (in style), perfectly perfect Duke of Sale. He remains Gilly--only he has gained the ability to trust himself in his role. He expects others to treat him accordingly. 

The Bratty Lover

Allec is my "bratty lover." Like Rory, 

he saves his older, more stable lover.

One rather adorable archetype in romance is the bratty lover. The character is often younger than the lover, full of piss & vinegar with a sharp tongue and lots of attitude. 

When the archetype works, it is--as noted--adorable and fun. 

Unfortunately, when it doesn't work, it is simply irritating. The character comes off as entitled and self-centered and rather incapable (almost deliberately incapable). 

In Therin's Magic in Manhattan series, Rory is a bratty lover. And he works for several reasons:

1. He isn't entitled. 

His adorableness is built-in, not deliberately cultivated (a character who deliberately cultivates a persona can be interesting but if the purpose is grifting--using others--the deliberate cultivation ultimately fails. Rory, in contrast, is behaving like himself; he has no idea how much he delights his lover, Arthur.

2.  He thinks about others. 

In fact, one of Therin's insightful points is that Rory thinks about all kinds of things, even his complicated relationship with religion. He is aware of people, their variation, their complications. When he starts to figure out Arthur, he goes out of his way to track him down and bring him a meal. 

3. He is fully capable. 

A delightful aspect of the book is that Arthur, the lover, isn't only protective of Rory; he is protective of everyone. 

"You're right, I'm being monstrously overprotective. I'm afraid it's a bad habit of mine. If it makes you feel better, Jade is a telekinetic ex-spy who can kill a man with her mind, and sometimes I can't sleep because I'm afraid she's lost control and accidentally stabbed herself."

"He calls," said Jade.

"I do," Arthur admitted. 

Arthur is protective of Rory, but Rory isn't helpless, and he doesn't practice learned helplessness.

Rory as a bratty lover allows him to be tough as nails, despite several bad events in his past, and to meet Arthur head-on, despite the disparity in class. 

From Yugi Yamada's oeuvre, Naoki plays a similar role with the people around him.  

The Great Major Margaret Houlihan

I mention on Votaries that Major Frank Burns had more potential than the writers allowed for. 

Apparently, Loretta Swit objected to her character's ongoing affair with Frank. (Maybe Swit did; maybe she didn't--what gets reported isn't always accurate).  

In any case, I've always considered Major Houlihan one of the great female characters of the 1970s. She doesn't spout off the correct-sounding stuff. She is a full character with layers. And I never had any trouble understanding why the seemingly tough and ambitious Houlihan would have an affair with Frank. 

First, she likely isn't as interested in marriage as she thinks she should be--she is a product of her time period, and a woman in the military is still an outlier. She sees friends getting married and settling down and having kids. She would hate that life, but a part of her thinks she is supposed to love it--until an actual marriage fails her. 

Second, a person can be savvy and hard-headed in one area yet a fool with romance. She marries a jerk--in fact, she acknowledges at one point that Frank was better than her cheating husband, Lt. Colonel Penobscott, who was entirely shallow and fell short of Frank's devotion.

Third, she isn't stupid--the obvious person for her to hook up with his Hawkeye...and they would kill each other in a fortnight (as the episode when they sleep together proves). Hawkeye is too cynical. He is also, work-wise, her mirror. She doesn't need a mirror, and Hawkeye isn't comfortable with one (as the episode with a female surgeon proves). 

Fourth, Houlihan has enough self-knowledge to understand herself regarding Frank. To him, she states, "You were military issue. I got you with my mess kit and khaki girdle."

Consequently, I wouldn't pair Frank with Houlihan in the long run. I would have them become good friends who can confide in each other. But Frank is looking for a wife--and, as stated above, Houlihan isn't necessarily looking for a husband, even if she thinks she is.   

The above analysis is based on the character--what she does, what she says, how she says it. The complexity and strength is there!  

Fantastic character! And excellently acted!  

What Makes This Manga Stand Out: Workplace Romance in On and Off

There are many many BL series now in which work peers fall in love. Sometimes, the couple joined the company around the same time. Sometimes, they are rivals from high school or college. Sometimes, they work in the same department. Sometimes, one becomes a superior. And so on. 

I am not opposed to the same plot concept being used and reused. I admit I don't have much tolerance for endless vampire stories. But even there, I think there are exceptions, tales that are unique. 

By "unique," I don't mean avant-garde or "rule-breaking." 

I want story, not some stream-of-consciousness experiment. 

"Unique," for me, refers to a story that is memorable and engaging. It is different for HOW it handles material, not for trying (impossibly) to invent new material.

In the work romance genre, On or Off stands out. No Love Zone, despite also being a full-color manhwa, strikes me as a bit samey and forgettable (No Love Zone is only recently gaining something like a plot: in Volume 3!). 

What makes On or Off unique is not only that the characters have an actual task/account/app to complete (getting that work completed underpins the volumes so far)--the characters also retain core characterizations. 

As I mention in the post on Semantic Error, a good romance keeps the characters' individual oddities even as they fall in love. The characters don't abruptly turn either coy or flawlessly understanding and affectionate. They continue to be idiosyncratic.

In On or Off, Kang keeps his poignant awareness that romance requires negotiation. He misreads Ahn more than once; unusually for an alpha character, he not only takes responsibility for his miscalculations, he studies his lover, whom he finds endlessly surprising. His older age (by about 15 years) aligns with his ability to assess how he and Ahn can find middle ground. 

Meanwhile, dedicated, hardworking, charismatic yet guileless Ahn goes at everything in his impulsive yet tactful way (as when he covers for Mina's bluntness). With Kang, he is straightforward yet abashed. Being in love enhances those qualities!

Ahn and Kang don't transform into blokes who react in the "proper" romantic ways. Rather, they react to their relationship as distinct individuals. 

 

Perpetual Bachelors: Trope and Stigma

Nero Wolfe is a perpetual bachelor. Perpetual bachelors are a longstanding tradition in literature, from PG Wodehouse's upper-middleclass men fleeing from marriage to Sherlock Holmes with his bromantic partner. 

Nero Wolfe falls in the subcategory of "perpetual bachelor who has been around the block." Tom Selleck's Frank Reagan also falls into this category. Although Frank is surrounded (quite literally) by family, he remains unattached. He had a marriage. He has kids. He doesn't want to go back or start over or move on to something else. He and Henry, his father and a similar type of perpetual bachelor, have an honest conversation with Danny about their disinterest in marrying again. Danny also lost his wife but he doesn't see his father or his grandfather as people to emulate--in their relationships, at least. 

Regarding Nero Wolfe, hints in the books and shows suggest that Wolfe had passionate causes and relationships in his past. He now wants a life of order and comfort. 

PG Wodehouse's bachelors are less excused. Although the stories applaud Wooster each time he escapes his aunts' marriage plans, Wooster himself is portrayed as a less self-aware Wimsey: a young man with no real objective in life, flying from responsibility. Jeeves is perfectly willing to assist since Jeeves prefers the good life of caring for a single unencumbered individual than for a household. 

The modern, American equivalent of Wooster is the-guy-in-the-basement-playing-video-games-and-still-living-with-his-parents.

So there is a stigma attached to bachelorhood. However, it has never been as great as the stigma attached to "spinsters." Consider Vance's cats. Even the footloose and fancy-free spinster bears a greater stigma than the male variety. So Michael Weatherly's Tony (NCIS) is a fun-loving womanizer who simply hasn't found the right girl yet while some of the characters from Sex & the City strike even me as kind of skanky and stupid. In fairness, Blanche from Golden Girls, though often called "skanky" by others, comes across as a pragmatic woman who enjoys life and doesn't see the need to apologize for her forms of entertainment. (In so many ways, Golden Girls was ahead of its time and today's time.) 

Still--the idea that men sow wild oats while women fail to fulfill social responsibilities lingers. 

Overall, stigmas exist regarding both male and female singles. And those stigmas can increase for men and for women depending on a culture. That is, some cultures will criticize the single male more while others will sneer more at the single female.

Personally, I'm a fan of pluralism. Not "diversity," in part because the term has bullying connotations these days that I don't agree with. I don't agree with people being applauded for their differences. I believe in people being left alone to enjoy their differences. I live in a neighborhood with single people and married people and living-together people and people-with-kids...we get up, we go to work, we go to play, we go shopping. That's life. 

So if people are happy in a basement, why shouldn't they hang out there? 

Wimsey and Harriet: It's About More than Brains

Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane are often praised as a pair of intellectual equals. THAT is what makes them so romantic.

I think this description does Sayers a disservice. 

Her characters are more substantial than two people who can exchange ponderances on the news-of-the-world and-or literary analysis. As A.I. has proved, anybody can do those things (or, at least, look like they are doing those things). 

Peter does appreciate Harriet's writerly occupation. And her intelligence is a given. 

What attracts him to Harriet, however, is her fearlessness.

He attends Harriet's trial. In that trial, Harriet tells the absolute truth, even though it works against her and she clearly understands that it works against her. 

Harriet is suspected of murdering her pompous, condescending lover who died from arsenic poisoning. Harriet ended the relationship because he offered to marry her. She had agreed to live with him based on his avant-garde beliefs, including the belief that "marriage is just a piece of paper." In the early 1900s, this decision made her a social pariah in some circles. His sudden offer of marriage made her feel like she was being offered a "bad conduct prize," as if all along she was being tested to see if she was worthy of marriage (based on the lover's character, testing Harriet was exactly what he was doing). For her, the principle of a thing isn't an abstract notion but a reality of day-to-day life. 

She is, in sum, a kind of Nero Wolfe. An almost ruthless brain is at work behind her social poise. And Wimsey--who knows plenty of intellectual women and plenty of female artists (he has slept with a number)--is bowled over. Utterly smitten. 

In Busman's Honeymoon, Peter and Harriet have an exchange where Peter admits, "I can enjoy practically everything that comes along--while it's happening. Only I have to keep doing things, because, if I once stop, it all seems a lot of rot...Now, I don't know." He was always running to keep ahead of his fears and possible depression. 

Harriet, however, has always been more grounded: "I've always felt absolutely certain [that life] was good. I've hated almost everything that ever happened to me, but I knew all the time it was just things that were wrong, not everything. Even when I felt most awful, [I thought] of somehow getting out of the mess and starting again...Things have come straight."

That non-saccharine optimism is a quality that pulls Peter fiercely to Harriet. He would possibly get bored (as would she) if they weren't intellectual equals. But IQ is not the quality that makes the relationship. The ways Harriet and Peter separately tackle the universe are far more impactful.    

Love is not something that can be plotted on a chart.

The Snarky Boyfriend in Manga

On Votaries I discuss the archetype of the Aloof Hero. 

A variation of the Aloof Hero occurs in manga, mainly The Aloof Hero Disguised as the Snarky Boyfriend. His aloofness allows him to stand outside of society's norms and comment on them. 

Below is a repost about snarky boyfriends. 

* * * 

The snarky boyfriend is common in both shojo and yaoi. Think Kurosaki in Dengeki Daisy. He teases Teru, behaves like a taskmaster--then rescues her, comforts her, turns to her when he is sad.

Likewise, Dee in Fake is Mr. Flirty/Playboy/Snarky Guy with everyone, yet opens up about his life and needs with Ryo.

On the surface, the snarky boyfriend is simply a sub-type of the rake: the angsty guy who is only vulnerable and open with the "one" romantic interest.

However, there is a slight (and rather fascinating) variation on the snarky boyfriend. The variation snarky boyfriend is not only sweet and vulnerable with the "one," he is often only snarky with the "one."

This is especially true of high school romances where the secretly snarky boyfriend is the aloof school idol: to his admirers, he is handsome, kind, thoughtful, self-sacrificing, never sarcastic, always on a pedestal, plays sports, gets good grades...

He never lets anyone entirely close (though he sometimes has one good childhood friend). The arrival of the one-and-only in his life is a relief, an opportunity to be his true self, especially since the one-and-only is usually the type to eschew pretense; unlike the snarky boyfriend, the one-and-only always behaves in accordance with his or her true self.

In Only the Ring Finger Knows (manga and light novels), snarky boyfriend Kazuki is only sarcastic with guileless and forthright Wataru. In His Favorite, snarky boyfriend Sato is only his somewhat sadistic self with bemused, straightforward Yoshida.

Only Kasahara can entirely provoke the cool-headed Atsushi Dojo in Library Wars. While Paul from Lies are a Gentleman's Manners is singularly capable of drawing the reserved Jonathan into snarky shouting matches.

It's like the Hulk in reverse. And can occasionally go too far. When done well, it showcases the "realness" of the relationship. Whatever outside facades or demeanors the members of the couple give to the rest of the world, to each other, they give their true faces.

Great Laid Back Action Hero: Hugh Beringer

On Votaries, I have reached characters from "P" authors. Since Ellis Peters is one of those authors, I naturally started thinking about the Cadfael mysteries.

Hugh Beringar is a great character, and I realized, much to my delight, that he falls into the category of laid-back hero (see list below). He is the sheriff of Shrewsbury and the surrounding area for most of the Cadfael series. He is spry and lean with dark hair and eyes. He marries early on. Consequently, his life and family parallel Cadfael's--including their pleasure in meeting their sons (new born in Hugh's case; full-grown in Cadfael's case). He remains Cadfael's ally and friend through all the books. 

He is also quite laid-back. Cadfael does not know at first what to make of Hugh, who is observant, calm, and capable of playing a long game. Cadfael begins to trust him and is relieved to have that trust affirmed when Beringar is amused--rather than angry--at being out-maneuvered in One Corpse Too Many. 

In the first season of the series, Beringar is played by Sean Pertwee. The look is absolutely right. Pertwee plays Beringar's character as a tad more uptight--I suppose two entirely sanguine-y characters onscreen would be too much--but he captures the easy push and pull with Cadfael. And Pertwee has this marvelous low-pitched baritone which captures the character's contemplative side.

Other Laid-Back Heroes

• Lieutenant Pruden
  
• More about Loid
• Justin from Secret of Nimh
• Karasuma from Assassination Vacation (with a tribute to Arthur from Inception)
• Yuri from Yuri on Ice!
• Itami from Gate
• Sam Gillespie from Sister Boniface 
• Lieutenant Tao from The Closer and Major Crimes 
• Saitama from One Punch Man

 

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."

Persona Matters: Why Gun and Tinn Can't Switch Places

Years ago, after watching a play at church, my mother said about one of the actors, "He just basically went on-stage and behaved like himself."

She was quite amused. The man wasn't "acting." 

Arguably, a great many actors are simply being themselves. Likewise, when I teach, I am "performing" as a more extroverted, in-one's-face version of myself. 

Sure, there are the Gary Oldmans who become completely subsumed by their roles. But actors have a particular aura that is, to a degree, recognizable. 

Consequently, switching roles doesn't automatically work. 

In My School President, Tinn--a young man who decides to become a doctor--woos Gun--a young man who is seriously interested in music. Despite the choice of careers, Tinn is actually somewhat more laid-back than Gun. He would be rather like an ER doctor I know: good at his job, ambitious (enough) but quite ready to stick to the regular schedule of the ER, no matter how crazy it gets in the moment.

Gun as singer.

Despite his bohemian tendencies, Gun is more highly strung. In fact, he is quite in keeping, personality-wise, with many musicians. 

In a later show, the characters switch places, so Gun becomes the ambitious doctor/student while Tinn becomes the bohemian. 

It doesn't work. And it doesn't work because of the underlying personas or attitudes. 

Serious-minded Gun as an ambitious medical student would drive himself into an early grave. He is already highly strung. His almost practiced insouciance in
My School President is self-protection. An environment where he can find himself--despite the highs and lows of a musician's life--will allow him to relax into that insouciance. 

Tinn embracing his whimsy.

Whimsical laid-back Tinn, on the other hand, doesn't become attractive as a bohemian; instead, he comes off as kind of a jerk, a guy who is deliberately playing a role rather than a guy who loves music more than anything else. 

The differences reach back to the actor's personalities. Forth, who plays Gun, is somewhat more reserved than even his character while Gemini, who plays Tinn, doesn't mind mugging to the camera. In the original roles, their underlying personalities give them depth. The outlier musician often proves quite serious on occasion. The serious (if laid-back) doctor gains a playful side.

Switch those roles: the one guy gets himself an ulcer and a nervous breakdown; the other annoys even his devoted friends and parents.

Casting directors truly do know what they are doing. 

The Pleasure of the Non-Canon Couples

In relation to my post on Votaries about Ichabod Crane, I attempted to come up with a romance novel where the central romance is described by someone on the side. 

I used this approach in my tribute to Northanger Abbey. Henry and Catherine's romance is told by a bemused god of love, Ven, the male version of Venus. I chose this approach in part because it is the approach used by Austen: an acerbic semi-omniscient narrator writes about the vagaries of love and Gothic literature. 

However, such an approach isn't that common. Austen's other novels invest far more in the limited perspectives of her main characters. 

But the idea got me thinking of the romances that people love despite those romances NOT being the primary focus of a book/ show. For instance, I far prefer Monica and Chandler to Ross & Rachel in Friends. I know fans of Luke and Grace from Joan of Arcadia. And I've always considered Ryan's marriage on Castle (to his real life wife, Juliana, character name Jenny) to be one of the sweetest on record. 

These romances, in my opinion, are often used to satisfy viewers who are getting restless about the main relationship never being consummated (storytelling-wise). 

But I also think that sometimes the freedom of these non-canon or non-required marriages allow the writers more scope and insight. The non-canon couples ARE more fun than the central couples.

For the sake of comparison, I tried to think of "side" couples from manga and realized...

They often end up with their own series!

The Logical Lover: Seiichirou Kondou

On Votaries, I discuss the the accountant detective, a nice variation in mystery shows. 

Seiichirou Kondou from The Other World's Books Depend on the Bean Counter is a prime example and gets a mention in the Votaries' post. 

From a romance point of view, Kondou is so enchanting because throughout the series (manga and light novels), he retains the characteristics of a somewhat uptight workaholic with a gut sense of money matters being "off," a gut sense he then backs up through research and detailed paperwork. He continually makes logical appraisals of what will actually save the country money, as opposed to what certain nobles and leaders want for self-aggrandizing and sentimental reasons. 

What is even more amusing is that his lover, Aresh, uses his logic against him! 

So in several scenes, Aresh argues, "Yes, but what I want (that you live with me, get more rest, eat the foods I provide) will make you more efficient."

I love the chibi associated with Kondou. He knows Aresh is right. He can't argue, "I don't want to be efficient." He is irritated all the same!

In the end, Kondou is a great defense of the position maintained on this blog: The best romances keep people who they are. 

The Laid-Back Detective

On Votaries, I discuss characters from books by "G" authors.

One of those "G" authors is Dorothy Gilman, who wrote the Mrs. Pollifax books, A Nun in the Closet, and The Clairvoyant Countess, one of my favorites.

The Clairvoyant Countess is one of my favorites in part due to Lieutenant Pruden. Lieutenant Pruden is one of those laid-back heroes. In fact, he is quite a bit like Loid from Spy X Family. He is quiet, skeptical, straight-laced but willing to go outside the lines (consult with a clairvoyant). A tad like Hotchner from Criminal Minds but not quite so uptight. For most of my teen years, I was half in love with Pruden.

When I wrote Aubrey, my character Charles Stowe was inspired by Pruden and another Charles: Charles Parker from Sayers' Wimsey detective novels. 

I've covered the attraction of the laid-back hero in a number of posts (see below). Here, I will state that another attraction is the underlying skepticism. Pruden, Parker, and Charles Stowe are open to evidence. They don't make up stories about people and impose them. They go where the clues take them. Their inherent skepticism comes from knowing that where the clues take them might change. They are prepared for their initial reckonings to be wrong. 

For all their by-the-book attitudes, they are actually quite adaptable.

Other Laid-Back Heroes

• More about Loid
• Justin from Secret of Nimh
• Karasuma from Assassination Vacation (with a tribute to Arthur from Inception)
• Yuri from Yuri on Ice!
• Itami from Gate
• Sam Gillespie from Sister Boniface 
• Lieutenant Tao from The Closer and Major Crimes 
• Saitama from One Punch Man
  

Absolute Equals: Two Appealing M/M Couples

One of my favorite Bones-Booth moments is when Sweets

insists that they do an outside exercise together. Bones & Booth

behave like mature equals, more than Sweets & his partner.

On Votaries, I discuss characters in books, good, bad, and...eh. 

Lately, I reached "C". I analyze Alice from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll and Bren from C.J. Cherryh's Foreigner series. 

On this blog, I often comment on the same characters' love lives. Alice--despite various opinions about Lewis Carroll and Alice Liddell--doesn't have a romance, and Bren--who has an Atevi partner--is mostly concerned in the later books with politics and survival and friendships. 

So I am reposting about two romance couples, one created by KJ Charles!  

* * * 

Many romances employ rescue missions whereby one character decides to rescue/save another. The romances are about what one character can do for the other.

I'm not necessarily opposed to these plots, so long as I am left believing that the relationship is reasonably functional. Everybody got what they signed up for.

However, I admit, I absolutely adore those relationships where I believe that the relationship is equal, that the oddities of each partner have been taken into account and dismissed or fully accepted, that the author has in fact achieved a 50/50 balance (which is difficult in fiction and in real life):

Possible cover from Goodreads

Dominic-Silas

From KJ Charles's Seditious Affair, Dominic and Silas are equals despite the differences in background, education, and money. They both adore books. They both admire each other's honesty and goodwill, even if they utterly disagree over the other man's politics. And it all comes down to their ability to stand outside themselves objectively and accept the other person as he is.

Dominic likes to be dominated during sex. If Silas was an even slightly different personality, this aspect of their relationship would also be their downfall. If, for instance, Silas allowed politics to bleed over into the sexual arena, if he used dominance to bully, if he perceived Dominic's needs not as an individual quirk but as an opportunity to mock and deride, the relationship would falter and die within a few months. Silas would be the opposing side to Lord Richard's overly patronizing coin (Lord Richard is a good, flawed character).

Instead, to Lord Richard, Silas barks, "I said, you won't [make Dominic behave]. You've hag-ridden [him] for fifteen years, and I won't have you giving him another dose of what's wrong with him. It's not his doing I'm mixed up in this [seditious affair], and you, friend, you aren't making me into a stick to beat him with because you don't like his ways."

He defends Dominic. Dominic defends him. In the end, Silas will get his bookstore back. And he'll honor the person loaning him the money. And they will have the companionship they both desire.

The younger versions.

Diego-Mark

Many of L.A. Witt's Anchor Point novels revolve around military men with problems: PTSD, physical ailments, alcoholism, etc. Generally speaking, I appreciate how she often solves the issues without solving them. That is, the couple learns to deal--the issues don't vanish.

Diego and Mark have their issues. What I liked about Once Burned specifically is how willing Diego and Mark are to allow the other person to be different. Diego is not religious; Mark is. Diego is not military anymore (against his wishes); Mark is. Good grief, they even like different sports teams!

The issue at the end is not Hey, can you deal with my crap? The issue at the end, interestingly enough, is forgiveness, not of each other but of the past. Crappy things happened to me. Am I going to let that control my relationship with you? 

Individually, they both decide, No.