All cheap and debonair

[sovay]

Talk to me about supporting characters. When you're supposed to fall for the heroine, and instead it's the second spear-carrier from the left who turns out to have the thorniest moral dilemma or the most fascinating backstory. This happens to me all the time; I can't be the only one. So who are your scene-stealers? Movies, books, operas—your own work—which character roles do you remember long after you've forgotten who played the protagonist?

(This post brought to you courtesy of Eleanor Cameron and L.M. Montgomery.)

Comments

[kraada.livejournal.com]

First: I love the Fool.

But I'm not sure he qualifies as a supporting character in Assassin's Quest (or any of the Fool's Errand trilogy), at the very least. Though I suppose one could argue that the Fool got more important because he was interesting rather than vice versa . . .

If I had to pick a Hobb character who was a supporting character the whole way through I'd go for either Chade, Burrich, or possibly Kettle (whom I liked far more than is probably appropriate) . . .

[sovay]

Who from L. M. Montgomery?

Dean Priest, from the Emily trilogy. For whose sake I have exceeded the character limit and must respond in two comments; I'm sorry about that. He's always been my favorite. Even when he hurts Emily as badly as he does (and he really does), he remains the character out of the entire series that intrigues me the most. And I'm not sure he's meant to. He's described rather attractively, if ambiguously, when he first appears—

Emily sat down, all at once more shaky than she had been through all the danger. Dean Priest leaned against the gnarled old fir. He seemed "trembly" too. He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. Emily looked curiously at him. She had learned a good deal about him from Aunt Nancy's casual remarks—not always good-natured remarks, for Aunt Nancy did not wholly like him, it seemed. She always called him "Jarback" rather contemptuously, while Caroline scrupulously called him Dean. Emily knew he had been to college, that he was thirty-six years old—which to Emily seemed a venerable age—and well-off; that he had a malformed shoulder and limped slightly; that he cared for nothing save books nor ever had; that he lived with an older brother and travelled a great deal; and that the whole Priest clan stood somewhat in awe of his ironic tongue. Aunt Nancy had called him a "cynic." Emily did not know what a cynic was but it sounded interesting. She looked him over carefully and saw that he had delicate, pale features and tawny-brown hair. His lips were thin and sensitive, with a whimsical curve. She liked his mouth. Had she been older she would have known why—because it connoted strength and tenderness and humour.

In spite of his twisted shoulder there was about him a certain aloof dignity of presence which was characteristic of many of the Priests and which was often mistaken for pride. The green Priest eyes, that were peering and uncanny in Caroline's face and impudent in Jim Priest's, were remarkably dreamy and attractive in his.

"Well, do you think me handsome?" he said, sitting down on another stone and smiling at her. His voice was beautiful—musical and caressing.

Emily blushed. She knew staring was not etiquette, and she did not think him at all handsome, so she was very thankful that he did not press his question, but asked another.

"Do you know who your knightly rescuer is?"

"I think you must be Jar—Mr. Dean Priest." Emily flushed again with vexation. She had come so near to making another terrible hole in her manners.

"Yes, Jarback Priest. You needn't mind the nickname. I've heard it often enough. It's a Priest idea of humour." He laughed rather unpleasantly. "The reason for it is obvious enough, isn't it? I never got anything else at school."

—but by the third book he's become something like the villain of the piece, perhaps because the author didn't quite know what to do with him. In Dean, she had created someone who is broken in several important ways and yet has been good for Emily, the cynical dreamer who can lose his cynicism with her, the scholar and traveler who spins for her legends of the ancient world and anecdotes from foreign countries, Emily's link with all the myths and wonders of life outside New Moon and Prince Edward Island and, in some ways, the modern day. She assimilates him immediately into her father's place as the person with whom she can talk about anything, show all of her poems and expect fair criticism and consideration in return, believe in fairyland and whatever comes into her head: she trusts him implicitly.

[sovay]

But the relationship in which he sees himself is not precisely a fatherly one—

" . . . Do you think a star should be pretty?"

"No," she said finally, "the word doesn't suit a star."

"I perceive you are an artist in words. Of course it doesn't. Stars are prismatic—palpitating—elusive. It is not often we find one made of flesh and blood. I think I'll wait for you."

"Oh, I'm ready to go now," said Emily, standing up.

"H'm. That wasn't what I meant. Never mind. Come along, Star—if you don't mind walking a bit slowly. I'll take you back from the wilderness at least . . ."

—and perhaps because so few people have ever valued him, the crook-shouldered boy whom no one would play with, the sarcastic man no woman ever seems to have fallen in love with, a faint bitterness always in his smile and does he also see Emily's father, "the only friend I had at school—the only boy who would bother himself about Jarback Priest," somehow mirrored in her? the older she grows, the more Dean needs that value proved to him in no uncertain terms. Whether that means giving up her childhood sweetheart or her ability to write, he needs to be first in her heart or he's no one. And of course it's never a good idea to rely on other people for one's self-esteem, and romantic love is not the only kind that matters, and the best way to lose someone is to hold on to them too tightly, but when did that ever stop anyone in the real world? Dean is damaged and damaging in all too believable ways. But I still wonder about his arc. Was he meant from the beginning to come across as a danger? Or are we, like Emily, intended to trust him completely and then be hurt and stunned? Or did the third novel blow up out of nowhere? I can't quite shake the feeling that L.M. Montgomery needed someone as a plot-counter to the One True Love of Emily and Teddy, and there was Dean. Their triangle is so traditional, I wonder if there was too much hazard in leaving him as a positive character; if he might have provided a valid alternative, and that was not the sort of book Montgomery was interested in writing. I don't know. But I do know that I cannot remember most of what happens to Teddy in the course of the trilogy, but I can quote Dean Priest.

Jack from The Blue Sword.

Yay!

[sovay]

we have the Fool in Hobb's Farseer series

Yes. I love the Fool.

Mr. Flay from Gormenghast

See, I fell in love with the good Doctor Prunesquallor. The discrepancies between self and self-portrayal and his weird position as a trickster who changes almost nothing—never mind his endless capacity for monologue—snagged me immediately.

(and the rest of the Weasley Family, esp. Fred and George)

Out of curiosity, why them?

[sovay]

Which L.M. Montgomery?

Dean Priest, from Emily of New Moon. See my rather lengthier than planned response to muchabstracted's comment.

One of my favorite things about Madeleine L'Engle's books is the way her cast of supporting characters keep wandering in and out of multiple books.

I am very fond of Canon Tallis.

but not enough to read godawful contemporary continuations of Pride and Prejudice.

This was the one that scared me . . .

[sovay]

I haven't read or seen any of these! Clearly I need to expand my horizons. What do you recommend first?

[sovay]

Floria/Florian Del Guiz.

Absolutely. I liked Florian de Lacey right off, pretty much from his first entrance, but I was delighted when she turned out to be even weirder than he looked. Angelo Angelotti, too.

[sovay]

Sir Gareth has always been my favorite in the Arthurian legend.

I've always liked Merlin and Mordred. And Sir Kay, although the latter may be mostly the fault of Phyllis Ann Karr's Idylls of the Queen.

I'm sure I'll think of more later . . .

Does Fakir count, or is he too much of a main character? Between him and Drosselmeyer, I'm happy.

[sovay]

I wonder sometimes if this happens when the writer's subconscious lets something loose, what had been restrained by the more natural, habitual main character.

Yeah; I think for many authors the parameters of a protagonist are more restrained, so all the really weird stuff precipitates out into the secondary characters, who don't come with the same expectations.

So, who came to mind for you?

Well, I was provoked by Prewytt Brumblydge and Dean Priest, but my liking for the supporting cast goes back to characters like Fflewddur Fflam in Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles, Sempitern Walker in Dianna Wynne Jones' A Tale of Time City, or Puddleglum in C.S. Lewis' The Silver Chair, all of whom I encountered in childhood and who made an impression on me one way or another—I leave out characters like Schmendrick (The Last Unicorn) or Howl (Howl's Moving Castle) or Sydney Carton (A Tale of Two Cities) who fall into the much rarer classification of weird protagonist. But I've got a list that goes on for pages. I'm the person whose favorite character in Aliens is Bishop, or whose favorite scenes in Dr. Zhivago are the ones with the doctor's cynical half-brother Yevgraf. Pooh-Bah gets all the best lines in The Mikado.

[sovay]

but those are ones that immediately come to mind.

I don't know them at all, but "Dolorous Edd" is a wonderful name.

[sovay]

Yes. I'd almost forgotten him, but I think you're right. Mr. Jenkins was my scene-stealer for A Wind in the Door.

[sovay]

Especially with my loyal retainer obsession.

Don't even get me started on Bothari. So far I've read Shards of Honor, Barrayar, The Warrior's Apprentice and whatever the novella is that comes between that and The Vor Game in the omnibus your household has so kindly loaned me, and he and Koudelka are my favorites. Which is impressive, considering that I actually like Aral Vorkosigan: he hits all the right moral blurs.

[schreibergasse.livejournal.com]

Oh, and:
-Nakor from the novels of Raymond Feist
-Philip (“Where is the Pirate King??”) Henslowe and John (“an’ the daughter mu’ilated wiv knives”) Webster in Shakespeare in Love

[sovay]

Bester (Babylon 5 -- Londo and G'kar seem too main cast to count)

I am extremely fond of Bester: I think he's my favorite of the human characters. I'd argue that Londo and G'Kar can be considered supporting cast if Sheridan and Delenn are viewed as the protagonists, despite their own extensive contributions to the plot . . . I love them no matter what.

[sovay]

Philip (“Where is the Pirate King??”) Henslowe

Hee. Geoffrey Rush is one of my culture heroes.

[sovay]

That said: Inigo and Fezig from Princess Bride.

"That Vizzini, he can fuss."

"Fuss . . . fuss . . . I think he likes to scream at us."

"Probably he means no harm."

"He's really very short on charm."

"You have a great gift for rhyme."

"Yes . . . Some of the time."

"—Enough of that!"

"Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?"

"If there are, we'll all be dead."

"—No more rhyming now! I mean it!"

"Anybody want a peanut?"

*untranscribable noise*

[oddmonster.livejournal.com]

Depends on your mood. More dystopian cyberness, Hammered. Need to steep in myth and atmosphere, Something from the Nightside. And if you're looking for a sort of Les-Mis-meets-Cthulhu type of deal, Necromancer. All are excellent.

[sovay]

And if you're looking for a sort of Les-Mis-meets-Cthulhu type of deal, Necromancer.

Okay. I think I might have to read that just to believe it. Awesome.

[sovay]

I'd go for either Chade, Burrich, or possibly Kettle (whom I liked far more than is probably appropriate) . . .

Yay, Chade. : )

[zdenka]

Yeah! He was really cool. I hadn't thought about him (or Emily) until now for years, though.

[zdenka]

I thought Fakir wouldn't count for this question because of that and because everyone else seems to love him too. But yes, Fakir has been my favorite character in the series from the beginning. I still haven't been able to watch Disk 6, alas.

[zdenka]

I thought about mentioning that I was obsessed with Bothari for a while, but then I forgot . . .

[oddmonster.livejournal.com]

I put it this way: it's the type of book where I am genuinely afraid to read the sequels, in case they do not live up to the quality of the first one.

[sovay]

I still haven't been able to watch Disk 6, alas.

I haven't seen the end of the series, either. Should I come by sometime?

[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

He's a splendid character.

Nine