Great Agatha Christie Couple: The Tollivers

In Poirot's "Problem at Sea," the murder takes place on a ship containing several passengers. Among them are the Tollivers. 

The Tollivers are a rather insular British couple who are taking a vacation "abroad." When Poirot innocently suggests trying the local cuisine, they are shocked but game. 

They are a delightful couple. They are rather guileless. The audience learns their names when they introduce themselves to the unpleasant soon-to-be-victim. "I'm Mrs. Tolliver," says the wife. "I'm Mr. Tolliver," says the husband. 

"What a clever arrangement," the victim-to-be responds snidely. 

A few shots later, we see Mr. Tolliver carefully arranging a shawl around Mrs. Tolliver's shoulders. It turns out they have two children: a boy and a girl. Don't worry: they aren't awful parents! They clearly belong to that strata of British society that can leave their children to governesses and tutors and boarding houses while they travel abroad yet still adore them. 

They go about together. They react with compassion and good humor to various events. Mrs. Tolliver looks after the elderly, confused general. They are decent and friendly and obviously enjoy each other's company. 

Wonderful couple!

The Tollivers are played by Caroline John and Jeffrey Beavers.

What Constitutes Weakness? Archetypes in Manga

Yukari to the left.

In a prior post, I reference the strong partner with the weak-willed significant other. 

I point out how rare this pairing is in romance. Generally speaking, people want their significant others to at least be competent. 

But it does depend, in part, on what it means to be "weak." 

In Caste Heaven, which I review in an earlier post, the characters run a range from domineering to unorthodox to indifferent to gentle and sweet. The author allows all these characters to be their own complicated selves--all of them are salvageable.

However, the one character that she (appears) to perceive as non-salvageable (but the series isn't over yet) is the student who is jealous of everyone else, Yukari. 

Akusa, the protagonist, desires the position of king, but then, he already sees himself that way. Other characters inhabit their roles by fiat--This is what I've always done. Some people like their roles. Some people hate them. 

But to always be whining because one didn't get that role or that role or that role or that role out of a "raging inferiority complex"--that is the ultimate weakness. 

Western literature criticizes this character type as well but American entertainment tends to focus more on the "not taking advantage of opportunities" aspect of this unhappy type rather than on the "having a really bad attitude" aspect. Japanese manga, rather like British sitcoms, dwells more on the bad attitude (British sitcoms do it for the joke). 

It's an interesting distinction regarding what constitutes "weak." The bad attitude doesn't just bring down the individual--it brings down the group. 

Which places the whole "teens need self-esteem" issue into a wildly different context, as in "your need for self-esteem is ruining my self-esteem, so cut it out."

Agatha Christie Pair: The Strong Partner with the Weak Significant Other

In my post about Christie relationships, I mention that "sometimes the passionate exuberant gal really does want the limp, waffling idiot."

This is Sittaford Mystery, in which the practical, straight-talking fiancee tackles the case in order to save her rather weak-willed, not entirely ethical, easily led husband-to-be. 

She doesn't manipulate anyone but she does use male appreciation to her own ends. Consequently, the far-more-deserving reporter who helps her is (momentarily) hurt when she clarifies that she always intended to return to her fiance. She never pretended otherwise. Despite she and the reporter working so well together, she fully intends to marry the waffling semi-criminal blah guy. 

The reporter's hurt fades the moment a new story comes along. But the event points to one of Christie's great insights. She was willing to write the classic Harlequin romance where the supposedly domineering, strong-charactered Darcy gets the vivacious Lizzie. But she honestly found it possible that the vivacious Lizzie might want...well, not Mr. Collins exactly but a good-natured, less sycophantic, equally weak-willed husband. 

Okay, okay, Lizzie would never! (Though Charlotte did.) Christie believed that another equally vivacious woman might. 

However, even with Christie, such romances don't take center stage. Watching other people be bullied into romantic feelings is like watching the more unlikable parts of Say, Anything or Clueless (or Emma) where friends pressure friends into dating certain people. 

The closest pairing--and most amusing--variation of this archetype among romances is the scatter-brained lover who requires an organized lover to stay organized. Or the accident-prone lover who requires a more organized lover to...not die. 

Agatha Christie Pair: The Couple That Reconciles After Cheating

In my list of Christie types, I list "the bad husband [who] gets his wife back."

One of Christie's most remarkable traits was her ability to objectively present different reactions to adultery. She suffered from a first marriage to a man who may not have been technically adulterous (it's hard to say) but who emotionally and physically absented the marriage to marry another woman, a decision he made while Christie was clearing out her dead mother's house. 

Christie wrote books with plots that faintly resemble her own experience (which she never spoke about directly) but here is where the writer rises to the fore--because she also wrote books about couples who resolve their problems quite differently than she and her ex-husband, Archie. 

In Hercule Poirot's Holiday, the adulterous husband is a bigger-than-life character; in Evil Under the Sun, the supposedly adulterous wife is actually a pathetic victim; in The Hollow, the adulterous husband is a complex man who exhorts his mistress to protect his wife as he is dying (she does)--the narrator's sympathy is entirely on the side of the adulterers; in Towards Zero, the ex-wife's adultery is excused because her ex-husband was, well, nuts; in Five Little Pigs, the wife feels pity for the mistress, largely because the adulterous husband never intends to leave the wife for the mistress; in Sparkling Cyanide, the adulterous husband reconciles with his wife.  

Adultery is not the primary motive in all Christie's books--or even a given theme (the theme life is about taking risks is far more common). But she shows a readiness to treat each marriage/relationship as comprised of individuals whose individual personalities and relationships dictate the outcome. 

Which is not to say that adultery doesn't cause all kind of problems. Christie may have been willing to see every relationship as different. She was also a realist. Betrayal is betrayal. 

It is immensely difficult to forgive adulterers in romances. Libertines: okay. Characters with scandalous pasts: part of the charm. But a significant other that cheats...

In terms of my own reading, the closest novel I've read about a possible adulterer (that I actually enjoy) is Lessons in Temptation by Charlie Cochrane in which Jonty contemplates cheating. The temptation is real. His troubled reaction is real. The counseling he requests and receives is down-to-earth. His rejection of the temptation is a relief.

In television, one of the few couples I wanted to see get back together, even though one cheated, is Rusty and Gus--and even there, I had my doubts that it would work since Rusty requires absolute trust and security. However, at the time of the event, they had separated (for more than 24-hours), Rusty practically pushed Gus into the other man's arms, Gus was immediately repentant and paid the price before he ever spoke to Rusty of reconciliation.

Point: It is a terrifically difficult plot to write successfully. Kudos to Christie that she considered reconciliation a possible solution in some cases for some characters.

Agatha Christie Pair: The Couple Who Discover They are Also Friends

Agatha Christie couples also include the passionate couple who realize that they are actually also friends (Moving Finger).

Moving Finger contains one of my favorite passages from literature:

  "Luke, do you like me now?"
  He made a movement toward her, but she warded him off.
  "I said 'like', Luke; not 'love.'"
  "Oh, I see. Yes, I do. I like you, Bridget, as well as loving you."
  Bridget said, "I like you, Luke."
  They smiled at each other a little timidly, like children who have made friends at a party.
  Bridget said, "Liking is more important than loving. It lasts. I want what is between us to last, Luke. I don't want us just to love each other and marry and get tired of each other, and then want to marry someone else."
  "Oh, my dear love, I know. You want reality."

Christie was an advocate of the friendly marriage. She had a passionate marriage with the unreliable and self-centered Archie. And she had a friendly, happy marriage with Max Mallowan.

In Sad Cypress, the story of a woman who imagines killing her romantic rival, the main character Eleanor eventually chooses the reliable doctor who showed her unstinting friendship--as opposed to the unreliable, waffling man Eleanor had wanted to murder for.

Lovers-who-become-friends is a variation on this theme. They have the passion but do they have anything else?

My favorite M/M couple makes another appearance here since Silas and Dom's relationship in KJ Charles's Seditious Affair begins as purely sexual--a safe place for Dominic to get the domination he craves during sex. At some point over approximately a year, the relationship transforms as the men begin to discuss books, a topic about which they are nearly as passionate.

What about the other way around--the friends-who-want-to-be-lovers. Is it an automatic, "Yes, of course it will work!"? 

 

In the below quote, Dom explains to his good friend, once his lover, why their relationship would not have lasted--despite their great friendship.

Agatha Christie Pair: The Dreamer with the Practical Partner

Another couple from Agatha Christie is the "tough strident woman [who] gets a dreamer" (Hercule Poirot's Christmas).

This is not exactly the same as the rogue and the rule follower. Although the practical person is often a rule follower (though not always), rogues are not automatically dreamers. Rogues like Patrick Jane are aware of the rules, even as they violate them. In fact, they often use the institutional rules/social rules to accomplish their ends.

Dreamers, however, exist in a world of non-awareness. They aren't rogues or rebels because they don't realize that the idyllic world they swim in isn't the way things are.

In truth, the archetype is not entirely appealing since, well, somebody still has to do the vacuuming. When you read about Louisa May Alcott's family following idealistic Amos Alcott to the so-called utopia of Fruitlands, you start thinking maybe Abby May Alcott would have preferred a husband who worked in an accounting office. (A post about archetypal dreamers in manga can be found here. As the post indicates, these dreamers never stop doing their jobs.)

A more appealing variation is the optimist--a realistic dreamer who wants to think the best of people. Jamie from Blue Bloods presents himself as a hard-headed idealist, an unusual combination but entirely believable.

"100 years ago at this family's Sunday dinner, at least one brother or uncle at the table would have been a priest," Frank says in one episode.

"You're talking about Jamie," his daughter-in-law responds.

However, later, Frank says to his father, "He would never have lasted as a priest. He's got the conscience but not the humility." 

Idealistic Jamie is paired with equally idealistic, just as hard-headed, yet slightly more practical Eddie. It's a workable combination! 

 

Agatha Christie Pair: The Adventurous Couple

Francesca Annis perfectly captures half of

an adventurous pair in another Christie creation.

In my post about Agatha Christie couples, I mention, "Sometimes the adventurous guy gets the adventurous gal (Cards on the Table)."

I refer to this particular pairing in two other posts: Why the French Sometimes Do Christie Better and Agatha Christie in France versus England. In sum, it irritates me that the BBC version of Cards on the Table felt it necessary to change this pairing to the adventurous guy gets the demure gal, not because that pairing can't happen but because the original pairing is so refreshing.

The adventurous couple is far more common in male/male stories, not because demure male heroes don't exist--they do--but because the default pairing for M/M is adventure + adventure. Reckless adventurous men have a tendency to drift into each other's orbit.

One of the best variations on this is Five Dares by Eli Easton where Jake is not truly all that adventurous but his friend/companion/eventual lover, Andy, has a penchant for the same type of risky pranks that pop up with Shawn on Psych. Andy needs a more grounded companion yet still someone who will celebrate his wild side.

A delightful trope here is when the supposedly more risk-adverse partner is willing to take a risk for the sake of the lover, as in Charlie Cochrane's Cambridge Fellows Mysteries when Orlando "dares" to drive the contraption (car) that Jonty loves in order to save Jonty from being murdered.

A refreshing aspect of M/M literature in this regard is that although discussions about risk and safety do occur between the adventurous couple, as they do in M/F literature, the default is not an argument: You have no right to control me! Okay, now that you've apologize, I guess we are okay. (Even Bones and Booth have this argument although it bugs me less than usual because Booth doesn't apologize: You'll take risks. I'll worry. Get over it.) Rather, in M/M, the default is, Of course, you have no right to control me, but I'll try not to drive you crazy anyway.  

Another positive exception among M/F couples is B'Elanna Torres-Tom Paris. They are both adventurers but not in the same way and not about the same things. I discuss them more here.

Nice Couple in Manga

The nicest, most ordinary couple in manga is Shiro-Kenji in What Did You Eat Yesterday?

What makes them so nice is that they aren't super-perfect nice. They don't bring flowers and puppies into every encounter. They are, in fact, incredibly normal. Shiro is a tad self-centered and stuffy. Kenji is a little flaky.

Consequently, the sweet moments are sweet without being saccharine: Shiro gets peaches for Kenji; he worries when Kenji doesn't pick up the phone immediately; he decides to spend all his New Years with Kenji.

Kenji naturally and pleasantly does housework. He compliments Shiro's cooking without pause. He knows when not to tease Shiro too far.

Regarding other manga: many of Yugi Yamada's characters are also simply and normally nice--she creates full worlds of friends and family members and relations.

Agatha Christie Pair: The Nice Couple

Sometimes the good guy gets the good gal (4:50 to Paddington).

In 4:50 to Paddington, Lucy Eyelesbarrow, efficient housekeeper, is propositioned by a number of the Crackenthorpe men: the elderly, cantankerous father; shady Alfred; artistic Cedric; and Bryan, who has a slightly reckless side (he used to fly airplanes) but is mostly a good sort at loose ends. His son, Alexander, rather wistfully suggests marriage: "[My dad is] awfully good-natured...I think really, you know, it would be a good thing if he married again...Somebody decent."

The excellent BBC version with Joan Hickson ends definitively with Lucy choosing Bryan.

The ending of the book is somewhat more ambiguous. Handsome Inspector Craddock, referred to in this instance by his first name, Dermot, asks Miss Marple, "Which of 'em is she going to choose?"

"Don't you know?" said Miss Marple.

"No, I don't," said Dermot Craddock. "Do you?"

"Oh, yes, I think so," said Miss Marple.

And she twinkled at him.

The implication is that Craddock himself might be in the running. Craddock has had several conversations with Lucy. And he employs a little bit too much over-the-top protesting: "[Miss Eyelesbarrow] is so devastingly efficient. No man will ever dare marry the girl."

In fact, one of the BBC productions, I believe, ends with Lucy and Craddock together.

Either way, she does NOT choose bad boy artist Cedric.

Decent-married-to-decent is in fact far more common than literature might suggest. Of course, it helps to realize that even those who appear un-decent--to themselves or to others--are inherently decent. Rochester actually is a good guy. 

Agatha Christie was Right and so are Romances

Re-post from Votaries, 2011

* * *

In the recent BBC version of The Mystery of the Blue Train, the rogue husband of the murdered victim does NOT pursue the book's staid, grey-eyed heroine.

He does in the book.

I was disappointed by this alteration and considered it another example of how much the writers of the latest BBC Poirots don't "get" Agatha Christie. Don't get me wrong: I love the early series, and some of the movies are pretty good--but like a great deal of television/movies/literary literature in the last decade, the stories are often edited to prevent the rogue from getting the girl.

Which is not in-line with Christie's vision.

It isn't that she was especially devoted to rogues. What makes her so entirely unique (and different from Marsh, who used the same romantic couple over and over and over, and from Sayers, who was only really concerned with one romantic couple) is that Christie believed in the individuality of love.

Christie was willing to allow (in a very English tolerant way) that every relationship has its own vibe, which isn't always fully anticipated. Sometimes the good guy gets the good gal (4:50 to Paddington). Sometimes the adventurous guy gets the adventurous gal (Cards on the Table). Sometimes a tough strident woman gets a dreamer (Hercule Poirot's Christmas). Sometimes a passionate couple realize that they are actually also friends (Moving Finger). Sometimes the bad husband gets his wife back (Mysterious Affair at Styles). Sometimes the passionate exuberant gal really does want the limp, waffling idiot (Sittaford Mystery). Sometimes the girl-in-love-with-the-aloof-man learns to love someone more compassionate and real (Sad Cypress). Sometimes the taciturn brute gets the matter-of-fact Wren (Taken at the Flood). And sometimes the rogue gets the princess.

* * *

Later posts will deal with Christie couples and comparisons to other romantic couples.

Archetype: Dreamy Hero/Heroine

A common archetype in Japanese manga and light novels is the dreamy hero/heroine.

This type exists in American literature, television, and film. Generally speaking, however, happy go-lucky optimists alongside tough authority figures are somewhat more common--think Kaylee and Mal on Firefly. Or, to reverse the genders, Wash and Zoe. (Follow the link for manga examples.)

That is, American entertainment tends to favor the active, quippy type. Dreamy heroes or heroines are often entirely dreamy or eccentric--Phoebe on Friends--or savant-like--Cassandra on Librarians.

The dreamy Japanese hero or heroine, however, is almost always non-eccentric as well as quite competent job-wise--despite his or her "quiet spells." Wataru from Only the Ring Finger Knows is a hard-working student. Ryo from Fake is a reliable cop. On the shojo side, artist Kira from Mars is perceived by other students as somewhat more eccentric and savant-like than her male counterparts. Nevertheless, her "normalizing" as Rei's girlfriend is presented as a positive, especially since it doesn't negate her pensive nature.

In other words, the dreamy archetype in Japanese literature is not marketed as outside-the-box for being so reflective and/or spacey. If anything, these characters are portrayed and discussed as utterly ordinary--with a subtle difference. They are normal if interesting. Just like everyone else except . . .

The closest American approximation is J.D. from Scrubs who is a capable doctor who just happens to have a vivid fantasy life. So he can go about his day helping people, performing procedures, and making accurate diagnoses while at the same time imagining his bosses as Luke Skywalker and Darth Vadar. (Charlie from Saving Hope is a variation on this plot but not a variation on the archetype--he didn't choose his dreamy side.)

J.D. is perceived as somewhat odd but not in any way eccentric; his behavior is never excused--as is Sheldon's on Big Bang Theory. J.D. is expected--rather like Leonard expects of himself--to conform to the culture around him. And he does...except for all the times he secretly doesn't.

This is quiet, personal, individual rebellion--not big noisy, "look how strange I am" rebellion.

There's a place for both dreamy rebellion and noisy rebellion: Regarding the latter, what would we do without Sherlock Holmes?! (Of course, the Brits seem to have their own version of "I'm not strange--yes, you are--wait, that's not strange" banter.) The pleasure of the dreamy Japanese hero or heroine is one gets to enjoy his or her wandering mind without feeling like the wandering has to make a point. After all, as long as the dreamy hero/heroine don't wander too far, what's the harm?