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The hero / anti hero thing is a bit confusing to me when I look at it as a writer, rather than a commentator on literature. I try to always look at things as a writer first and foremost.
Here are some of the complex aspects I think of when I look at LL's career --
I see a lot of the discussion of this subject stemming from the division between static and dynamic characters. So, if your story is about a character who is so strong that they are never tempted, never do anything wrong, never make mistakes, how much character is there REALLY? Is the braver person the one who does not experience fear, or the one who continues on even though terrified? Is it a better story if the protagonist knows all he needs to know or learns something along the way?
Many of Dad's characters learn lessons as the story unfolds but fewer of them learn a BIG lesson. Few of them change all that much. Sometimes the small lessons add up powerfully. Think of all the questions relating to community and its purpose in Bendigo Shafter (or read my LT PS in the new addition). Sometimes there is a BIG lesson learned. I like Fallon as an example of this, Fallon is trapped in his own con ... and he learns to like it. Of course, Tom Sunday plays with hero, anti hero and villain. Arthur Fordyce in Unguarded Moment is a CLASSIC anti hero, or maybe even a tragic protagonist (see below).
Anytime I deal with Dad's work I have to confront an issue that I've come to see as AMAZINGLY important in our world today ... INTIMACY, and how much of it an audience actually wants contrasted with AMBIGUITY and how useful it is when relating to the audience's imagination.
Dad is often given credit for writing brilliant descriptions of all sorts of stuff, mostly the Western landscape. My feelings about that is, "Yeah, sort of." Most of his descriptions are actually quite sparse. Not being too specific or only occasionally being specific is actually brilliant story telling. The best imaginary experience is one the reader creates for themselves. If the writer tells too much it ruins the effect. It is much better to tell just enough to spark the imagination. That's creative ambiguity.
Some LL fans shy away from intimacy and therefore some intensity. They don't want to know the details because that might damage the imaginary experience and they have a particular imaginary experience that they do not want trifled with. They don't want the writer, even Louis placing them too uncomfortably close to a story they'd rather imagine from a comfortable distance. So there are fans who dislike the more "personal" Yondering stories or pull back from the very few specific images relating to sex or foul language in Dad's work.
I have received some angry emails relating to No Traveller Returns and other projects I've worked on about these subjects. In reality, I toned down NTR knowing that this stuff was an issue. In other cases I have played it up. There is some immodest language in the Graphic Novel to Law of the Desert Born. It is there because when you break away from pure prose, using the "26 letters of code", to evoke an image in the audience's mind, you have to get more literal in order to deliver the same intensity. Dad's short story Law of the Desert Born actually starts by describing Shad Marone cursing ... it just doesn't say any of the words. And it doesn't have to be cause it is ALL IMAGINARY. As soon as you add pictures (or any additional elements like actors in an Audio Drama) you step away from the imaginary experience and you have to get more "real" or else you end up losing intensity.
So, Dad played around with how close to get to his subject matter, how intimate, how intense. He knew that he could hint and he knew that many in his audience liked it when he did. But it was always a risk. Back off too far and you lose the younger audience which is used to movies where the camera follows characters into the bathroom. That's not a value judgement, doing it might be good or bad. But the more INTIMATE our literature, film and theater get, the more exposed to and expecting of, that sort of intimacy the audience becomes. Back off too far and you turn Film into Theater, and novels into something that is just a vague description of the action, like a treatment. Go read the treatment for the sequel to The Walking Drum in the LT PS of that novel ... it's interesting but you won't feel it's as good as TWD!
A dynamic character who grows and changes is more intimate and vulnerable than a static hero who does not. Dad often designed stories around dynamic characters but then wrote more static heroes. Last of the Breed is a good example and, again, I'm going to refer you to the LT PS. It was originally intended to have a HUGE, DRAMATIC, character transformation as it's center piece. Why didn't he do it? I don't know.
What Dad was particularly good at was creating static characters with enough interesting aspects or conflicts so that he could get away with splitting the difference. Tell Sackett is a great example. Tell is a bit sad, a bit of a loser (especially compared to his two younger brothers). He's never going to get anywhere even slightly impressive in life. He's always going to be a working stiff who comes up a bit short. But that why we love him. He's brave and capable and honest ... all the things contained in the superficially static "hero" model ... but he's also US. Flawed, human, vulnerable, always feeling like an outsider. He is the town, the community, in Bendigo Shafter, an unimpressive little place that serves its purpose and disappears back into the prairie ... but IT SERVES ITS PURPOSE.
One last detail, and the one you really asked about: Anti Heroes. I read a GREAT description of what a tragedy is in Christopher Booker's amazing book The Seven Basic Plots. Simply put tragedy is when the story is told from the point of view of the villain. In Macbeth, Macbeth (and Lady Macbeth) are the villains and the play follows their story closely. He is the protagonist. Macduff is the distant threat to his rule and is a hero ... but the play is not about him. In Breaking Bad, Walter White is a villain and the story follows him but his brother in law Hank (the DEA agent) is the "hero."
So the real scale seems to be between Heroic Protagonist and Tragic Protagonist (a villain who is the focus of the story) and an anti hero is somewhere along that scale, probably closer to the Tragic Protagonist. Hank in Breaking Bad is actually more of an anti hero. He is vain, loud, uncouth and often insensitive. He is also vulnerable, brave, driven, and honest.
Just to make people think about it more, think of the character of Seth Bullock in Deadwood. In this horrifying pit of sin and iniquity he is honest and always tries to do the right thing ... that is VERY difficult and therefore he has a lot of the intensity of a villain. But, in a show known for it's amazingly foul language, I don't remember him ever swearing and he a pillar of morality: he has chastely married his brother's wife so that she will have the standing of a married woman and not a widow and he gives up the love of his life so that he will not embarrass his "wife" when she must come and live with him ... to keep up appearances for her. Yet the burning intensity that drives this man sells him as an "anti hero. Interesting.
How's that for an exhausting answer?
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