How Art Informs Our Worldview

I re-watched the Pilot for the TV show Gossip Girl again the other day. As trashy and angsty and soap opera-y that show was, I liked the first season of Gossip Girl for many of the same reasons I liked the first season of The O.C.: Well-rendered teenage characters who were both intelligent and stupid, both mature and childish, story lines that while melodramatic were for the most part believable and romantic entanglements that were more considered with the difficulties of keeping people together than the relative storytelling ease of tearing them apart. Both of these shows became much more dramatic and ridiculous over the course of their run times, but those first seasons were full of genuinely emotional moments, and they caused me to empathize with nearly every character presented.

The glaring omission to that category would be Gossip Girl's Chuck Bass.





For those who are unaware of Gossip Girl's characters, Chuck Bass is currently the most popular character on Gossip Girl. His on-again off-again romance with Leighton Meester's Blair Waldorf character has been the show's primary theme for about two and a half seasons. The audience for Gossip Girl (mostly teenage girls, if we still trust Nielson) freaking loves Chuck Bass. So, uh, why don't I?

I think if I could ignore the first season of Gossip Girl it'd be much easier to like the character of Chuck Bass. To be even more specific, I think if I could ignore the first episode of Gossip Girl, it'd be much easier to like the character of Chuck Bass. But, upon re-watching that Pilot, I realized what exactly it was about Bass that left such a sour taste in my mouth.

It was that, uh, he attempted rape. Twice. With two different girls. One of whom was fourteen.

What. The. Fuck.



Hold that thought.

Another rather childish obsession of mine is with the Harry Potter books. Love those things. Totally geeked for Deathly Hallows. Seen the new trailer yet? It doesn't matter.

In the books themselves, I don't have a problem with any of the characters presented to me as heroes. They're all three-dimensional, not perfect but usually morally sound, and generally sympathetic characters, even though their personalities are all different and distinctive and mostly likable. It's a tough balance to strike, but J.K. Rowling pulled it off rather well. Kudos, Rowls.

But, in the Harry Potter fandom, the most popular character aside from Ron, Hermione and Harry, is their bigoted, cruel rival, Draco Malfoy. Not only does Draco use Rowling's equivalent to a racial slur dozens of times over the course of the books, he does it without remorse or even stopping to think. Yet, in a fan-created affair that follows the books pretty intimately like the parody A Very Potter Musical, Draco somehow ends up as a reluctant hero. This, despite the fact that he actually tried to commit murder on a few occasions, and directly led to others committing murder.

What. The. Fuck.



There is a strange cultural fascination with bad boys in fiction, whether that be in television programs, books, movies, or any other kind of storytelling medium. One of the best explanations for this as a dramatic device was something a friend of mine pointed out to me this very day, when I was discussing this topic. It's a blog post by author Diana Peterfreund, who discusses the creation and emotional connection to good guys versus bad boys in literature. It's a great read. In it, she discusses the reasoning behind an audience's love for one character versus another. The most telling quote is one in regards to the movie Say Anything, which she brings forth as a great example of a story with an interesting, likable good guy as the love interest.

"A friend of mine told me it’s because Say Anything is, ultimately, Lloyd’s story. It’s not the story of a high-powered ambitious girl who accepts the gentle love and devotion of a nice guy like Lloyd Dobler. It’s about Lloyd, everyone’s favorite everyman, who through true love and devotion wins his prize of the beautiful girl. We’re with Lloyd. We really want him to get his heart’s desire, and when he does, we cheer.

But what if this was Diane’s story? Would we then perceive Say Anything as being about a very successful girl who takes pity on the class slacker, has a little summer romance, and when her life goes all topsy-turvy, settles, knowing this guy is willing to be her house-husband and general shoulder to lean on in England?"

What is it that we like about characters who attempt rape? What is it we like about characters who attempt murder? Where do we find it in ourselves to forgive these people of egregious moral defects that they don't seem the least bit interested in feeling remorseful about? It doesn't even have to be romantic; on Bones, main character Temperance Brennan's father is a murderer who we're presumably supposed to empathize with because he only killed people who had done horrible things in their lives.

When the love affair is contained to fiction, I don't really have a problem with this, but the art we consume informs our worldview. A friend and I were recently postulating that the books we read in our adolescence were directly responsible for our differing opinions on a topic of discussion. When the art we consume informs our view on romance, and when the art we consume portrays people who do these terrible things as desirable, well, I'll let J.K. Rowling herself explain:

"People have been waxing lyrical [in letters] about Draco Malfoy, and I think that's the only time when [pulling for a certain relationship] stopped amusing me and started almost worrying me. I'm trying to clearly distinguish between Tom Felton, who is a good-looking young boy, and Draco, who, whatever he looks like, is not a nice man. It's a romantic, but unhealthy, and unfortunately all too common delusion of girls that they are going to change someone. And that persists through many women's lives, 'til their deathbed, and it is uncomfortable and unhealthy and it actually worried me a little bit, to see young girls swearing undying devotion to this really imperfect character, because there must be an element in there, that "I'd be the one who [changes him]." I mean, I understand the psychology of it, but it is pretty unhealthy. So, a couple of times I have written back, possibly quite sharply, saying, "You want to rethink your priorities here.""

This isn't meant to say that kids, teenagers, young adults are so impressionable that they will throw themselves towards bad people simply because a TV show romanticized the idea, but I think it's very true that the way we view the world is influenced by the world we choose to view. I am basically expression a lack of understanding, then. How is it that we allow ourselves to laud such atrocious behavior?

If I had to guess, I think it would be a vicarious desire for forgiveness of whatever terrible deeds we've done. Rob from High Fidelity suggests that everyone has done at least four terrible things to their partner. If that's true, then, is this a subconscious desire for these terrible people to find love because it would self-justify receiving love ourselves? It's possible. After all, if Chuck Bass can get this girl, then why can't we find someone?



I'm not one for forgiving certain actions, even among fictional characters. It too often spawns the ability to forgive those actions in real life, through over-saturation. And maybe that's my problem, maybe I'm a judgmental ass, but I think I'd rather be a judgmental ass than a forgiven rapist.