The true strength of Graham Greene,
in my opinion, is the incredible characters that he creates for each of his
works, from the novels to the short stories.
Greene has a penchant for displaying humanity in all of its glory, at
the worst moments of the human experience and at the best of them. His characters are highly complex and rarely
do what we, the audience, expect them to.
They contradict themselves (Scobie from The Heart of the Matter is, in the words of George Orwell, “Two halves
that do not fit together.”) Greene does
not have heroes and villains, and occasionally it is difficult to tell who is
the protagonist and who is the antagonist.
So, when reading a novel like The
Power and the Glory, it’s vital to keep in mind who we’re dealing with.
Graham Greene, ladies and gentlemen, here shown making faces at the camera. |
This particular book if one in
which you can count the major characters on one hand. Therefore, it should not come as a surprise
that a huge amount of time is spent developing each character into a hugely
complex and sympathetic individual – particularly the main character, the
whiskey priest. However, the character
that fascinated me in particular is the Lieutenant.
The most prominent feature of the
Lieutenant is the fact that he is a character practically defined by irony. His goal is to wipe out religion in the
communist state that has been formed in Mexico, and obviously this leads him to
oppose the whiskey priest, but of course Greene doesn’t stop there. He opposes the Church because of their
corruption and hypocrisy, feasting and drinking and espousing meaningless
doctrine while their parishioners starve and live in squalor. His whole backstory is a tale of how priests are corrupt and can't be trusted (or left alive, apparently).
Because come on, who can trust a face like that? |
Well all right, that’s a pretty
good reason; so this is the root of his goal to help and protect the common man
of his state. The irony comes when we
take a step back and see what the Lieutenant is actually doing: in his effort
to catch the priest, he is perfectly willing to not only take hostages from the
priest’s home town, but to execute them if he doesn’t turn himself in to be
executed. To reiterate, these are the
people he is trying to protect and save!
But the real mastery of Greene is that we can still sympathize with this
character, because even after all of the atrocities that he commits to achieve
his goal, the character is so masterfully crafted as to be if not relatable
then at the very least understandable.
Now that you mention it, this whole sympathetic murderer thing is starting to get familiar... |
This isn’t an isolated incident, of
course – remember what I mentioned earlier about having trouble telling exactly
who the antagonist is. Greene has highly
sympathetic villains in most of his works.
Take for example Blacker from A
Hint of and Explanation; he is by all accounts a wretched, evil old man
who, as it turns out, only wants to understand the meaning of community and
companionship. An even more ambiguous
example arises in The Quiet American,
in which Pyle can arguably be called the antagonist. He is, after all, murdering innocents in an
attempt to realize his foolish and misconceived idea of how the war in Vietnam
should be. In any other story he would
probably be cackling madly as he ran off with the damsel in distress, but with
Greene writing the book we sometimes have trouble remembering that this is
actually the guy who’s blowing people up.
Pictured above: not Pyle |
So, in short, let’s keep in mind
exactly what it is that makes Graham Greene so great. He crafts intricate and delicate plots, and
his themes are always profound, but what truly drives the plot and what
illustrates the theme is Greene’s impeccable character design. Between the flawed heroes and the sympathetic
villains, Greene attempts to display the best and the worst that humanity has
to offer. And while he may be brutal in
his description of the bad, he only makes the good all that more sincere and profound.
1 comment:
Along the lines of what Eddie is saying, the characters in Greene’s work are memorable and unique. Greene is able to transform innocence and good will into a major character flaw using Pyle. In the very beginning of The Quiet American, Fowler says, “God save us always… from the innocent and the good” (12). Since we experience the narrative from Fowler’s perspective, Pyle appears incredibly foolish and unrealistically idealist. We see that innocence is no longer a state of mind for children, as it was in Greene’s previous stories, innocence now implies ignorance. Pyle overlooks the death of bystanders during the bombing, rationalizing that “they died for democracy” (171). But just as Eddie mentioned, there is something that prevents us from totally despising Pyle. Besides the bombings, Pyle genuinely cares for Phuong, he wants to be friends with Fowler, and has good intentions. Do his good intentions justify the fact that he kills innocent civilians, no, but we see some redeemable qualities in Pyle. So Greene’s quote, “Hate was just a failure of imagination” from The Power and the Glory, actually pervades The Quiet American along with some of his other novels.
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