I personally get a sort of condescendingly compassionate Well-Intentioned Extremist villain vibe to the character. Like, someone who thinks he's doing good, but also thinks little of the people he's helping and has a "we know what's best for you" streak, with a bit of enjoying the power he has over the "helpless" people.
I'm not sure if that's what you're going for, but the little you've given has quite the potential for an interesting character.
I kinda get the impression that this fella (and his wife too, probably) is entirely aware of how oppressive he's being and gets off on wrapping it up in a veneer of compassion because he knows that makes what he's doing even more of a mind-screw to his victims. He comes off like a straight-up psycho mustache twirler to me.
edited 24th Nov '16 5:55:47 PM by Robbery
My name's Ben.
Interesting reactions. For me, the question of whether or not the antagonist knows he's smothering the people he's protecting/helping/turning-into-babies is kind of beside the point. I'm almost certainly going to leave that up to the reader to decide. I will say this, the ability to soothe a victim is, for the antagonist, deeply erotic. In other words, he has a pretty strong incentive to keep the people under his protection helpless and blameless. Whether he realizes this or not, I'm not sure. Whether or not he'd resist the temptation if he became conscious of his conflict of interest, I think he would resist, perhaps with some measure of success.
I haven't decided how much I think this character represents the "don't blame the victim" meme and, for the protagonist, taking ownership of his victimization is going to be a huge step on his journey to becoming a Genghis Khan/Augustus/Bismark type of anti-hero.
edited 30th Nov '16 3:37:42 AM by garridob
Great men are almost never good men, they say. One wonders what philosopher of the good would value the impotence of his disciples.
Be careful not to let it get too anvilicious. Some readers may try to interpret that passage as exemplifying the conservative notion that charity is disempowering and ultimately futile.
My name's Ben.
Can't charity be disempowering and futile? It doesn't have to be but ...
I almost never give things to people in need. There's always a condition, even if it's tiny.
Yes, I will rent a pickup truck for you since you got evicted and need to move right now, but you owe me a cup of coffee. Yes, I'll tutor your struggling child, but you need to get me a copy of the newspaper. Yes, I'll help you get a job at the mini mart, but I expect you to get me a discount on frozen burritos.
I don't do this because I care deeply about newspapers or coffee, I do it because I don't want to humiliate or disempower the person I'm helping. I want to treat them as an equal, even if they're weakened.
Just giving people things, or taking care of people with no expectation of recompensation carries with it a stench of "what could someone like you possibly offer someone like me?"
At least it did when I was the weakened person in need of help.
edited 1st Dec '16 6:40:59 PM by garridob
Great men are almost never good men, they say. One wonders what philosopher of the good would value the impotence of his disciples.
![[up]](https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/smiles/arrow_up.png "[up]"){kind=icon}
I can be, but it doesn't have to be. It's not inherent in the act, or the acceptance of it. It depends on what's in the mind of the giver, and what's in the mind of the receiver. The problem most people seem to have is in wrapping their heads around the notion that both perspectives on charity are equally true.
There's also, believe it or not, the perspective that not accepting an act of charity is arrogant, that it requires humility to admit that you might need the help of another. There are lots of perspectives, and they're all valid.
"Just giving people things, or taking care of people with no expectation of recompensation carries with it a stench of "what could someone like you possibly offer someone like me?" "— Only if you insist on it, or they do. Sometimes the perspective you adhere to is a genuine desire to maintain another's dignity, and sometimes it's an excuse not to help someone. It's literally all dependent on the people involved.
edited 2nd Dec '16 10:07:32 AM by Robbery
My name's Ben.
It's really interesting you bring this up about the arrogance point. It is certainly how the antagonist sees things. One of the talks he gives to the criminals under his power is about how none of them would be imprisoned if they had simply submitted to fate and given up their "arrogant insistence on self-determination."
I'm not strawmanning this position, btw. A lot of very smart people have come to the conclussion that virtue lies in submission and resignation. I'm trying to make the antagnonist ambiguously (if at all) bad and the protagonist ambiguously (if at all) good.
Great men are almost never good men, they say. One wonders what philosopher of the good would value the impotence of his disciples.
Oh I know you're not straw-manning. But a lot of smart people have as well come to the conclusion that virtue does not lie in submission and resignation to fate. So there you go.
Your guy sounds so intensely smarmy in his presentation of his perspective that it's hard to believe that he's not doing what he does entirely for his own gratification, rather than out of a genuine adherence to a belief. If he genuinely believes what he's saying, fine; people who believe they're righteous are the most dangerous people on Earth. It's a hard line to walk, because it's believable that he might get pleasure out of enforcing his perspective and genuinely believe what he's saying at the same time, but it's difficult to portray it (at least in the way you've written him) without making it seem like he's only in it for his own jollies.
My name's Ben.
Cool. Thanks very much. I've got a lot of new ideas to go into this book. :)
Great men are almost never good men, they say. One wonders what philosopher of the good would value the impotence of his disciples.
I recently wrote a love letter from a minor antagonist to his wife. When you read this letter, do you feel he's a villain, an anti-villain or a hero antagonist? The protagonist this character is antagonizing, btw, is in a prison camp under the antagonists' administration. The protagonist doesn't want to be "helped" and is instead trying to become a Kissinger/Bismark/Augustus type figure, which you may choose to interpret as a hero, an anti-hero or even a villain protagonist.
Without further delay ...
"I spent all day ministering to the criminals and poor. They, the downtrodden, the deliciously injured, the erotically disempowered – how lovely is it to shower our pity down on their bowed shoulders? How fervid is that moment when we might gather up one who has been shattered and dry their tears?
How merciful to descend on these and absolve them of responsibility? “You couldn’t have done anything,” I assure them. “You can do nothing in the future. Nothing.” I remeber last July when we assuaged and caressed so many glorious victims as they writhed. Oh, the justice in this moment! How heroic! How positively virile we look by comparison with these!
There is no other way with these broken, these powerless, these eternally and deliciously disempowered. We are doing good, my love. To do otherwise would be to crush them under a reality too harsh, too real, to Darwinian. For this is the essense of the sacred, honored victim – weakness, pitiable weakness so intense we might make love in its afterglow.
But we must be careful. When one of these precious, these honored and sacred lambs falls prey to the scourge of self-blame all is lost. No more might we join in pious orgasm with appreciation of their bruised and battered lowness.
Should the object of our ardour our absolution, he might turn his eyes toward a future less broken, less pitiful. Should the victim, delicious in her helplessness, take responsibility for her victimization she might grow strong, formidible, independent – one might rightly call such a person repulsive.
Let us carry on our work, my beloved. I hunger for you with an intensity you cannot imagine.”
edited 23rd Nov '16 9:13:06 PM by garridob
Great men are almost never good men, they say. One wonders what philosopher of the good would value the impotence of his disciples.