::taps head with a wee stick::

[tinhuvielartanis]

One would think that Cadmus would quieten down after having a novella that features him prominently written with such enthusiasm and gusto. But he hasn't. He's clamouring for more. Perhaps I should give in and attempt to tackle "Sui Generis" again. I hesitate with this story because it's essentially Cadmus' biography and, therefore, focuses on the abuse he endured in his early years. The last thing I want to do is portray him as a victim. I don't want to inspire a cult of pity for this character because, even though he has suffered more than anyone, it's this suffering that defines and inspires him. He would not tolerate pity, nor can I on his behalf.

Really, I'm not certain if I want to indulge in writing about or for Cadmus right now. My feelings toward him are currently very forgiving and I'm afraid I'd be prone to try to make him a kinder, gentler beast. That just won't do. Despite my protective inclinations, I cannot fathom Cadmus being anything more or less than a murderous abomination. He cannot be an anti-hero. He cannot take up the torch of the protagonist. Them's the rules.

Comments

[aki-dreaming.livejournal.com]

Sounds like Charle. There is never enough story involving Charle. I think he makes stuff up. Actually, I know he makes stuff up. He was crazy for a long while and he improvises. I never know if I should tell those stories or not. They didn't really happen. And while I do tend to cultivate a victim sensibility around him, the fact remains that he is (was) a tiny little assassin; that he can and will snap, that he has committed horrific crimes and feels no remorse for them at all.

In the case of Charle, I think the reason the sympathetic presentation is important is because 1) the story and the character are both about redemption and 2) I like the shock value associated with sympathetic characters suddenly doing something that seems incomprehensible. A false sense of security where Charle is concerned is sometimes a very useful storytelling device, like forgetting the dog you've come to trust is actually trained to kill, and remembering when he takes your kid down.

Makes me want to write about the little bastage. You know, there's one scene in my head, I know it inside and out, like the back of my own hand, and I have never committed any portion of it to paper or internet. It goes with the song "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove" by Dead Can Dance. It involves infanticide - makes me feel bad for even thinking about it. All the same, it's a great scene.

[tinhuviel.livejournal.com]

Should you ever write it, I'd be keen on reading it.

[zaecus.livejournal.com]

An anti-hero is the person who shouldn't survive/discover/conquer, but does it anyway.

If the main character changes into a good person due to the plot, he's a hero, not an anti-hero.

Anti-heros are the bastards who wind up doing the right things in spite of themselves.

[tinhuviel.livejournal.com]

He doesn't do the right thing either.

[falkenna.livejournal.com]

. . . hmmm, this means Cadmus is already a bit of anti-hero.


Anyhow, re: protective feelings, repeat after me:

Cadmus is not B
Cadmus is not B
Cadmus is not B

(despite the family resemblance)