Rule Breakers
A certain member of my writers' group, who shall remain nameless (but perhaps will drop by), and I almost came to blows over the issue of rules. Not really. First of all, I live in Virginia, and he lives in Florida, making actual blows impossible. But things did get a tiny bit heated.
All over rules. (At least how I saw the debate.)
Here's the thing . . . I hate authority figures and will ALWAYS (or most of the time) choose to break the rules. But it's more than that . . .
Over a year ago, I once got out to my van after a trip to the pet store to discover the clerk had not rung up 79-cent doggie bows. Now, lest anyone think pink doggie bows are ridiculous (doggie bows--with bells), they are. But I had two girls, two puppies, and one set of bows, plus an entire cart of dog stuff, and the bows were an item Baby Girl wanted for her puppy, Dreamer. But somehow, amongst all the stuff in the cart, they were missed and not rung up. So I took the two girls, two squirming puppies, and 79-cent bows and went back INTO the pet store, to the end of the now-long line . . . to pay for them. Could PetSmart AFFORD to "give" me the 79-cent bows? Yes, indeed. The markup alone for the doggie bows was probably 78-cents. When the clerk saw I had returned to pay for them, his mouth dropped open. And I said, "It's important that my child see me do the right thing." Had she not been there? I still would have done it. Maybe because it was important for the clerk to see me do the right thing, maybe someone else. In any case, in some karmic sense, I would rather pay the 79 cents and do what's right.
Now . . . different set of circumstances. I used to mentor unwed teen mothers in some of the worst of the worst 'hoods. Mothers as young as 12, girls as young as 13 pregnant with Baby #2. I did this as a volunteer for a couple of years. Ostensibly, the program got its funding from the government (and by funding, I mean I had one supervisor/case worker working with 20 mentors and a hundred girls and babies, and he had one crappy desk and a set of filing cabinets from the 1950s . . . and a low-paying salary, but that was it--no money for the girls, no nothing . . . so this wasn't some expensive program). Because of this, we were not technically "allowed" to discuss abortion or birth control. Think about that. Especially point #2. Now, had, at any point in time, a 12-year-old girl, pregnant by her stepfather, approached me and said, "I don't want to have this baby," or "I need to talk to you about birth control" I would likely have broken the rules. I wouldn't--and I mean WOULDN'T--have discussed what she "should" or shouldn't do. Because that's between her conscience and God or the universe or whatever. But I would have counseled her to search her heart. And I wouldn't have pretended that birth control was something imaginary. And--more to the point--if I had an opportunity, by fudging something a tiny bit, to help an impoverished, abused young girl and her baby to get out of an abusive home, even if it meant LYING, I would do it and not waste a fraction of a second of time feeling bad about it, even if ostensibly the housing allowance I got her was a LOT more than 79 cents.
I am the type of person that the very SIGHT of a cop makes me break out in hives. I don't break the law, so there is no reason I should be nervous . . . but I nonetheless freak out. Maybe because I KNOW I WOULD break the law for some internal scale of "greater good." What appoints me guardian of "greater good"? Nothing more than wanting to help people.
There is a federally funded group home nearby. I wanted to organize a food drive and a drive to give them used computers--nowadays people throw out and let gather dust perfectly good laptops and TVs and all sorts of things. I was told I couldn't. The government won't allow that. Only government-funded crappy computers can be there. "But what if I had a really great laptop to give them?" "Nope." So I am allowed to have an ink cartridge drive to put cartridges in the government's said-crappy computers. If it were up to me, I'd march in with a big-screen TV and a new iMac and screw Uncle Sam. But there I go again . . . breaking rules.
And so in ANY book, I will root for the person who breaks the law, like Robin Hood. The person who never follows the rules. The anti-hero. Even if he's not doing it for greater good but just to be a rebel.
My friend's character breaks all the rules. And he has a lesson to learn about that. And me? I argue that . . . I don't know . . . I don't feel he's doing anything too awful by running away, by getting into trouble, by . . . I root for this character. Part of that is my friend is an awesome writer, and it's a terrific book. Part of it is inherently, I think, the world is draw up into people who routinely break rules and people who routinely follow them. And this translates very clearly in fiction.
Thoughts?
All over rules. (At least how I saw the debate.)
Here's the thing . . . I hate authority figures and will ALWAYS (or most of the time) choose to break the rules. But it's more than that . . .
Over a year ago, I once got out to my van after a trip to the pet store to discover the clerk had not rung up 79-cent doggie bows. Now, lest anyone think pink doggie bows are ridiculous (doggie bows--with bells), they are. But I had two girls, two puppies, and one set of bows, plus an entire cart of dog stuff, and the bows were an item Baby Girl wanted for her puppy, Dreamer. But somehow, amongst all the stuff in the cart, they were missed and not rung up. So I took the two girls, two squirming puppies, and 79-cent bows and went back INTO the pet store, to the end of the now-long line . . . to pay for them. Could PetSmart AFFORD to "give" me the 79-cent bows? Yes, indeed. The markup alone for the doggie bows was probably 78-cents. When the clerk saw I had returned to pay for them, his mouth dropped open. And I said, "It's important that my child see me do the right thing." Had she not been there? I still would have done it. Maybe because it was important for the clerk to see me do the right thing, maybe someone else. In any case, in some karmic sense, I would rather pay the 79 cents and do what's right.
Now . . . different set of circumstances. I used to mentor unwed teen mothers in some of the worst of the worst 'hoods. Mothers as young as 12, girls as young as 13 pregnant with Baby #2. I did this as a volunteer for a couple of years. Ostensibly, the program got its funding from the government (and by funding, I mean I had one supervisor/case worker working with 20 mentors and a hundred girls and babies, and he had one crappy desk and a set of filing cabinets from the 1950s . . . and a low-paying salary, but that was it--no money for the girls, no nothing . . . so this wasn't some expensive program). Because of this, we were not technically "allowed" to discuss abortion or birth control. Think about that. Especially point #2. Now, had, at any point in time, a 12-year-old girl, pregnant by her stepfather, approached me and said, "I don't want to have this baby," or "I need to talk to you about birth control" I would likely have broken the rules. I wouldn't--and I mean WOULDN'T--have discussed what she "should" or shouldn't do. Because that's between her conscience and God or the universe or whatever. But I would have counseled her to search her heart. And I wouldn't have pretended that birth control was something imaginary. And--more to the point--if I had an opportunity, by fudging something a tiny bit, to help an impoverished, abused young girl and her baby to get out of an abusive home, even if it meant LYING, I would do it and not waste a fraction of a second of time feeling bad about it, even if ostensibly the housing allowance I got her was a LOT more than 79 cents.
I am the type of person that the very SIGHT of a cop makes me break out in hives. I don't break the law, so there is no reason I should be nervous . . . but I nonetheless freak out. Maybe because I KNOW I WOULD break the law for some internal scale of "greater good." What appoints me guardian of "greater good"? Nothing more than wanting to help people.
There is a federally funded group home nearby. I wanted to organize a food drive and a drive to give them used computers--nowadays people throw out and let gather dust perfectly good laptops and TVs and all sorts of things. I was told I couldn't. The government won't allow that. Only government-funded crappy computers can be there. "But what if I had a really great laptop to give them?" "Nope." So I am allowed to have an ink cartridge drive to put cartridges in the government's said-crappy computers. If it were up to me, I'd march in with a big-screen TV and a new iMac and screw Uncle Sam. But there I go again . . . breaking rules.
And so in ANY book, I will root for the person who breaks the law, like Robin Hood. The person who never follows the rules. The anti-hero. Even if he's not doing it for greater good but just to be a rebel.
My friend's character breaks all the rules. And he has a lesson to learn about that. And me? I argue that . . . I don't know . . . I don't feel he's doing anything too awful by running away, by getting into trouble, by . . . I root for this character. Part of that is my friend is an awesome writer, and it's a terrific book. Part of it is inherently, I think, the world is draw up into people who routinely break rules and people who routinely follow them. And this translates very clearly in fiction.
Thoughts?
Labels: anti-heroes
posted by Erica Orloff at 6:30 AM
34 comments
