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Are Orphans Necessary?
Sep. 8th, 2015 04:22 pmI just killed off a protagonist's mother and I feel horrible about it.
Oh, it wasn't a graphic on-page death, only the dawning realization that she's already been dead for a decade or so. Since well before the first of my novels begins, in fact. The death was necessary: my character's actions and motivations simply weren't going to make sense otherwise. But still...dead mothers. It's a bit of an unfortunate pattern, you know?
I'm not the only author who has pondered on the question of whether it is necessary to be an orphan to have adventures. And, to be sure, I've retroactively killed off a number of fathers just as casually. A protagonist can be in peril even with living, caring parents in the picture. For that matter, parents can add another layer of things that the protagonist fears to lose, upping the stakes in a crisis. But there's an undeniable sense of...I guess you'd have to call it "freedom" to being a prospective adventurer who is neither protected by the care of an intact family nor has to consider what responsibilities they owe to one.
In Daughter of Mystery both Barbara and Margerit represent different orphan archetypes common to fantasy. Margerit falls very generally in the Cinderella group, though nowhere near sharing that character's plight. Her orphaned state has meant that no one has been looking out for her particular interests (though her guardians genuinely have what they believe to be her interests at heart). But it also means that when she becomes an unexpected heiress, there is a context for placing all the power over her future into her own hands. She may scheme to get out from under her uncle's influence in a way that would have been more difficult to manage with a father and mother.
Barbara represents the "mysterious parentage" class of orphan. The lack not merely of physically present parents, but of any certain knowledge of her parents, gives her a mystery to solve and creates a cloud of possibility that pervades her every action. Who were they? Why did they? What does it mean for her? What future lies in store that won't be revealed until she knows her past? It's such a popular archetype as to be a cliche. Not one I could ever get away with doing twice in the series, I think.
Antuniet, on the other hand, though having lost her father at some unclear prior date, still has a mother when she first appears in the series. Iosifin Chazillen may not have been anyone's ideal mother (certainly not Antuniet's ideal), but she was definitely there and significant. And then she died. And the fact and manner of that death--and her status as the last remaining member of her family--was a powerful driving motivation for Antuniet throughout The Mystic Marriage. In one sense, it isn't until she confronts and renounces her dead mother that she can find her own path. So that's three.
Jeanne's parents are dead but we are free to assume that they lived happy and pleasant lives and expired naturally of old age, given that Jeanne is of the older generation herself. Still, one wonders how much of her career and reputation was shaped by her family situation. What did Jeanne's mother think of her daughter's wild period? What did her father think of having a son-in-law who most likely was older than he was? These things are hinted at for those who care to put the pieces together. What role did Jeanne's mother have in shaping her career as a socialite? Were they partners or rivals? (I have plans to write up more of Jeanne's early life in short fiction at some point, so some of these questions will be answered.)
Luzie, on the other hand, has parents still living happily. She writes to the regularly, contributes money for their support, visits when she can. (They're living with her brother's family in retirement in a rural town.) She longs to have her father be able to attend one of her concerts now that she is belatedly gaining some fame as a composer. Perhaps he will. Luzie has children as well. And the existence of her family connections will be relevant throughout Mother of Souls both as a source of support and as a complication in her personal life.
But Serafina... Serafina has a complicated relationship with her family. Her father was her first connection with an intellectual life and the bridge to a marriage that eventually enabled her to pursue it. Her mother represents both the lost dream of belonging and security that was her childhood, and the uncomfortable burden of her foreign roots. If her father was the immigrant who established himself solidly in their new home, her mother was the immigrant who clung to the past, not only from love, but from being unequipped to adapt fully, suspended between worlds. And when Serafina's brother married a local woman who displaced their mother's role in her own home, Serafina watched her fade and dwindle--and watching that broke her heart such that she would grasp any chance to be able to turn away.
Except I've been finding that more and more uncomfortable. The icon of lost belonging that her mother represents is such a driving force in everything Serafina does in Mother of Souls that it made no sense at all that should would have left a living mother behind in Rome to seek her heart's desire in Rotenek. Certainly it would make no sense for her to ***omitted as a major spoiler***. Therefore, her mother must be dead. And therefore it makes most sense for her mother to have died before Serafina married, and for it to have been part of the motivation for her to do so (wanting to leave the family home that was haunted by her mother's absence). Dead mothers can exert such a powerful influence on the emotions. That is, after all, why they keep turning up in fiction.
If it's any consolation, many of my secondary characters have living mothers. Margerit's cousins have both mother and father alive and present. Princess Anna and Princess Elisebet both figure as mothers as well as political figures. To the best of my recollection, almost all the central young characters in Floodtide have living mothers, and most have living fathers as well, even if not all of those parents are particularly on-stage in the story. And you never know: some of my protagonists may even become mothers themselves, after a fashion. But that would be telling.
Oh, it wasn't a graphic on-page death, only the dawning realization that she's already been dead for a decade or so. Since well before the first of my novels begins, in fact. The death was necessary: my character's actions and motivations simply weren't going to make sense otherwise. But still...dead mothers. It's a bit of an unfortunate pattern, you know?
I'm not the only author who has pondered on the question of whether it is necessary to be an orphan to have adventures. And, to be sure, I've retroactively killed off a number of fathers just as casually. A protagonist can be in peril even with living, caring parents in the picture. For that matter, parents can add another layer of things that the protagonist fears to lose, upping the stakes in a crisis. But there's an undeniable sense of...I guess you'd have to call it "freedom" to being a prospective adventurer who is neither protected by the care of an intact family nor has to consider what responsibilities they owe to one.
In Daughter of Mystery both Barbara and Margerit represent different orphan archetypes common to fantasy. Margerit falls very generally in the Cinderella group, though nowhere near sharing that character's plight. Her orphaned state has meant that no one has been looking out for her particular interests (though her guardians genuinely have what they believe to be her interests at heart). But it also means that when she becomes an unexpected heiress, there is a context for placing all the power over her future into her own hands. She may scheme to get out from under her uncle's influence in a way that would have been more difficult to manage with a father and mother.
Barbara represents the "mysterious parentage" class of orphan. The lack not merely of physically present parents, but of any certain knowledge of her parents, gives her a mystery to solve and creates a cloud of possibility that pervades her every action. Who were they? Why did they? What does it mean for her? What future lies in store that won't be revealed until she knows her past? It's such a popular archetype as to be a cliche. Not one I could ever get away with doing twice in the series, I think.
Antuniet, on the other hand, though having lost her father at some unclear prior date, still has a mother when she first appears in the series. Iosifin Chazillen may not have been anyone's ideal mother (certainly not Antuniet's ideal), but she was definitely there and significant. And then she died. And the fact and manner of that death--and her status as the last remaining member of her family--was a powerful driving motivation for Antuniet throughout The Mystic Marriage. In one sense, it isn't until she confronts and renounces her dead mother that she can find her own path. So that's three.
Jeanne's parents are dead but we are free to assume that they lived happy and pleasant lives and expired naturally of old age, given that Jeanne is of the older generation herself. Still, one wonders how much of her career and reputation was shaped by her family situation. What did Jeanne's mother think of her daughter's wild period? What did her father think of having a son-in-law who most likely was older than he was? These things are hinted at for those who care to put the pieces together. What role did Jeanne's mother have in shaping her career as a socialite? Were they partners or rivals? (I have plans to write up more of Jeanne's early life in short fiction at some point, so some of these questions will be answered.)
Luzie, on the other hand, has parents still living happily. She writes to the regularly, contributes money for their support, visits when she can. (They're living with her brother's family in retirement in a rural town.) She longs to have her father be able to attend one of her concerts now that she is belatedly gaining some fame as a composer. Perhaps he will. Luzie has children as well. And the existence of her family connections will be relevant throughout Mother of Souls both as a source of support and as a complication in her personal life.
But Serafina... Serafina has a complicated relationship with her family. Her father was her first connection with an intellectual life and the bridge to a marriage that eventually enabled her to pursue it. Her mother represents both the lost dream of belonging and security that was her childhood, and the uncomfortable burden of her foreign roots. If her father was the immigrant who established himself solidly in their new home, her mother was the immigrant who clung to the past, not only from love, but from being unequipped to adapt fully, suspended between worlds. And when Serafina's brother married a local woman who displaced their mother's role in her own home, Serafina watched her fade and dwindle--and watching that broke her heart such that she would grasp any chance to be able to turn away.
Except I've been finding that more and more uncomfortable. The icon of lost belonging that her mother represents is such a driving force in everything Serafina does in Mother of Souls that it made no sense at all that should would have left a living mother behind in Rome to seek her heart's desire in Rotenek. Certainly it would make no sense for her to ***omitted as a major spoiler***. Therefore, her mother must be dead. And therefore it makes most sense for her mother to have died before Serafina married, and for it to have been part of the motivation for her to do so (wanting to leave the family home that was haunted by her mother's absence). Dead mothers can exert such a powerful influence on the emotions. That is, after all, why they keep turning up in fiction.
If it's any consolation, many of my secondary characters have living mothers. Margerit's cousins have both mother and father alive and present. Princess Anna and Princess Elisebet both figure as mothers as well as political figures. To the best of my recollection, almost all the central young characters in Floodtide have living mothers, and most have living fathers as well, even if not all of those parents are particularly on-stage in the story. And you never know: some of my protagonists may even become mothers themselves, after a fashion. But that would be telling.
