Identifying with our characters. And sometimes not. By Jo Carroll
We ask a lot of our characters. Should we ask the same of ourselves?
I've just returned from a trip to Malaysia. It's a wonderful, multicultural country with some of the kindest people in the world. But this trip has thrown three significant unexpectednesses at me - just the sort of thing we throw at our characters.
Firstly, the weather. Floods kept me from the travelling deep into the rainforest: would I ask my fictional self to get caught in the floods, to wade waste-deep with crocodiles and leeches, in an effort to reach safety? The tail-end of the monsoon continued to ravage the east coast and made reaching an island, with its palm trees and snorkelling, difficult as the ferries were unreliable in the stormy weather. My fictional self would have gone anyway, huddled on the beach with the snakes and monkeys and had sand blown in her eyes.
Secondly, the Chinese New Year, a time of glorious celebrations with fireworks and dragons, stretches the public transport system to its limits. I've experienced this before, in Vietnam, so I know that my fictional character might have to travel on a night bus with blocked toilet, so overcrowded that people were sleeping on the floor, careering through the mountains in the dark. It was almost fun the first time. But masochistic to do it again.
Thirdly, there was a significant political trial due to reach its conclusions while I was in the country. I had no idea of the history or ramifications - I only knew what I read in the papers. I gleaned most of my local information from students working as cafes; they were full of their work and travelling plans but tight-lipped if I mentioned the trial. Maybe I should have stayed in Kuala Lumpur to find out, knowing that if there were riots I'd have to hide in alleyways with the rats while the police fired water cannon and possibly worse.
I'm really not that brave. I abandoned the rainforest and the island. I found a place of safety away from KL long before the Chinese New Year.
So can I really put myself in the position of an intrepid character when, faced with a challenge or two, I'm really a bit of a wuss?
You can find out about some of the adventures I was unable to avoid on my website: http://jocarroll.co.uk where there are links to my books.
I've just returned from a trip to Malaysia. It's a wonderful, multicultural country with some of the kindest people in the world. But this trip has thrown three significant unexpectednesses at me - just the sort of thing we throw at our characters.
Firstly, the weather. Floods kept me from the travelling deep into the rainforest: would I ask my fictional self to get caught in the floods, to wade waste-deep with crocodiles and leeches, in an effort to reach safety? The tail-end of the monsoon continued to ravage the east coast and made reaching an island, with its palm trees and snorkelling, difficult as the ferries were unreliable in the stormy weather. My fictional self would have gone anyway, huddled on the beach with the snakes and monkeys and had sand blown in her eyes.
Secondly, the Chinese New Year, a time of glorious celebrations with fireworks and dragons, stretches the public transport system to its limits. I've experienced this before, in Vietnam, so I know that my fictional character might have to travel on a night bus with blocked toilet, so overcrowded that people were sleeping on the floor, careering through the mountains in the dark. It was almost fun the first time. But masochistic to do it again.
Thirdly, there was a significant political trial due to reach its conclusions while I was in the country. I had no idea of the history or ramifications - I only knew what I read in the papers. I gleaned most of my local information from students working as cafes; they were full of their work and travelling plans but tight-lipped if I mentioned the trial. Maybe I should have stayed in Kuala Lumpur to find out, knowing that if there were riots I'd have to hide in alleyways with the rats while the police fired water cannon and possibly worse.
I'm really not that brave. I abandoned the rainforest and the island. I found a place of safety away from KL long before the Chinese New Year.
So can I really put myself in the position of an intrepid character when, faced with a challenge or two, I'm really a bit of a wuss?
You can find out about some of the adventures I was unable to avoid on my website: http://jocarroll.co.uk where there are links to my books.
Comments
I know that some writers think so - Michelle Paver, for instance, won't write about any aspect of Stone Age life unless she's sharpened a flint or skinned a bison or lit a fire with dried yak bones at first hand.
Me, I'm more of the Lawrence Olivier school of thought. As he said to Dustin Hoffman, who ran up a flight of stairs in order to get suitably out of breath for a scene in Marathon Man, 'Have you ever tried acting, dear boy?'