The word protagonist is rooted in the word agony, pain, and suffering. Protagonist means principal, or leading character.
Good stories depict a central character in struggle, usually a fight for her or his life on some level. Memorable stories depict this main character rising above their pain oftentimes by helping others.
Good writers love all their characters, even the ones who behave badly.
We hold for our protagonists a special place in our hearts, a refuge where they dwell with us, and deliver their most private and shameful secrets.
And yet we must resist allowing our love and respect for them to obscure the ache and suffering that is part and parcel to their transformation and required of them via the story line.
We must not avoid the conflict. We must not give into our character’s desire to run from misery that is simultaneously rooted in our own desire to avoid suffering.
This is the way of the writer.
Much like it is said that God watches her or his subjects suffer never abandoning them, we too much remain close, near the souls of our protagonists pulsating with fear, and we knowing all the while the outcome, but never skirting the truth of their story’s path.
The deeper the valley of the shadow of death they trod, the greater the triumph you, they, and the reader experiences on the ascent to ground level.
Like Demeter, the mother of Persephone, we must submit our protagonists to the Hades of their Underworlds crafted by the machinations of their personalities.
We must undergo the seasons of our emotion as their egos are kneaded—ours too—as they push for control and safety and yearning.
The raping our protagonists undergo is but a transformation that renders them monarchs upon the throne overseeing their desires.
By relinquishing their pride and taking the hero’s journey, they also let go of attachments.
After crafting and fashioning our characters we too must set them free upon the journey of the story, and watch the plot devour them, ultimately rendering them anew at the climax.
The twists and turns that so mangle and bring pain to our hearts are but a sign that we care, that we have done our work as storytellers.
The affectations of their battle scars upon us evidence our characters are alive and thriving, and that we too are changing.
Our job is but one of dictation. Setting about on this task keeps us focused.
“The effort to secure our happiness, to maintain ourselves in relation to something [or someone] else, is the process of ego.” Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, The Myth of Freedom.
How much do like or dislike your protagonists?
How much do they remind you of yourself?
I’m reminded of the old proverb, “Smooth seas don’t make good sailors.” If our protagonists are couch potatoes, they have little chance for growth or, for that matter, calling upon readers to become interested in their stories.
Malcolm
Well said, Malcolm. Very well said.
Thanks so much for saying even better than I could have.