How to Marry a Millionaire, and Likability

[osprey_archer]

I watched How to Marry a Millionaire a couple weeks ago, and while I don't have much to say about the movie itself (cute and interesting if you like 1950s comedies; probably not worth watching otherwise), it has led me to spend some time mulling over the issue of likability in fiction.

Or maybe I should put "likability," because I think there's a difference between what any particular person likes in fiction at any given time, as opposed to what creators or studios or culture or whatever thinks that we're supposed to like. I do like the characters in How to Marry a Millionaire - I have a particular soft spot of Schatze, which is probably no surprise: her cleverness and veneer of hard-bitten cynicism are more to twenty-first century tastes than her somewhat air-headed colleagues, Loco and Pola.

In particular, I think modern viewers would find Loco frustrating, because the poor thing is as dumb as a brick. A married man invites her to his lodge in Maine, and despite all signs to the contrary (including Schatze telling her "Don't do it, Loco, he wants you to be his mistress"), Loco remains convinced that this lodge is some sort of gathering place - like a lodge of Masons or Elks - where she'll meet lots of eligible bachelors, rather than, well, a secluded cabin the middle of nowhere.

(But don't worry. Once they're there, Loco gets the measles and meets a charming park ranger. She thinks that he's a wealthy man who owns timber until he actually shows her his itty bitty ranger cabin, but no matter, she's in love and happy to throw over her part in the gold-digging scheme.)

And that also makes me think of Oliver Twist. When I read the book, I found Oliver's denseness quite frustrating: he's literally watching Fagin teach his friends how to pickpocket, and yet he's totally gobsmacked when they actually go out and pickpocket people for real.

But Oliver's ignorance makes him unimpeachably innocent, and perhaps that was more important to early Victorian readers than his savvy or lack thereof.

And it occurs to me that this reflects a broader shift in what is defined as "likable" in a character: the burden of proof has switched from whether characters are virtuous to whether they're smart.

Although the pendulum may be swinging back in the other direction, at least in certain segments of fandom, although the standard of virtue is now twenty-first century social justice rather than early Victorian moralism.

Comments

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I'm interested in hearing more about the possibility that the pendulum is swinging back. You mention social justice as the measure of virtue. So is it a matter of social-justice credentials now becoming more important than intelligence?

I wonder if the appeal of a character like Loco wasn't that she was innocent, exactly, but that the audience was more in the know than her, and enjoyed predicting what would happen, like at a British Christmastime pantomime, where the audience is yelling at the character not to open the door, etc. That might still be something we couldn't expect a modern audience to get into, but feels slightly different?

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure. Or rather, I think probably it depends on the critic? I think many people have simply added new criticisms of characters who are not unfailing fonts of perfect empathy with a deep understanding of any and all social justice issues on top of old complaints about characters failing to behave with total rationality at all times, even when in mortal peril.

In both cases, it's a criticism that can be used to justify a dislike of basically any character - often with a side helping of "How can anyone like this character?" - and in the rare cases where it can't, well, there's always the old standby that perfect characters are impossible to like, because nobody's perfect.

Possibly that's a jaded take on the situation. It's just that reading media criticism lately, it's stuck me that bringing a particular critical lens to everything one views is a bit like that old adage about how when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I agree with you: seeing stuff in terms of X, Y, or Z theory can sometimes give you interesting insights, but when you **judge** stuff in terms of X, Y, or Z theory--yikes. The things that pass muster are often dreadful.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

It reminds me of a quote from Robert Conquest's book about Stalin's Terror, when he's talking about the Western reaction: "not even high intelligence and a sensitive spirit are of any help once the facts of the situation are deduced from a political theory, rather than vice versa."

Of course judgments of the merit of a piece of fiction are of less deadly import than deciding whether a show trial is legitimate, but I think the basic idea holds.

[bunn.livejournal.com]

What an interesting thought re: measures of virtue. It's true, 'designed-to-be-likeable' characters often seem to achieve that status by improbable levels of conformity with modern morals.

Yet it is so difficult for the reader to get past, say inappropriate behaviour to young women, or cruelty to animals, that might once have been considered unexceptionable. And the more that sort of behaviour is mapped to universal appallingness, the more difficult it becomes.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I think historical fiction can definitely compound the issue, because our standards of likability and past standards don't necessarily coincide and people often don't want to pause in their light entertainment to put lots of thought into, say, the pro-dogfighting position. Even if they're reading about characters in a time period who would probably find a spot of dogfighting unexceptionable, even if they weren't personally big fans.

Which is fair enough. I tend to think that reading books from the actual period is a better way to get a sense of the period than historical fiction, anyway.

[evelyn-b.livejournal.com]

Hmm. I'm not sure what my own rubric for likability is, or if I have one. I know when you were describing Loco, I liked her a lot, even though I haven't seen this movie -- maybe for the reason asakiyume suggests, because I know more than she does and can shout at her (to no avail) not to open that door. Also, she's using limited knowledge to draw conclusions without realizing it's limited. It's a lodge! Lodges hold meetings! She's just being logical.

I've been trying for a while to figure out if there's a common quality in all the characters that I like the most, and have gotten no forrarder, as they say in the Vintage CID. I think there might not be one.

/slightly OT, but I am too out of the loop to comment on trends.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I think there tend to be two kinds of viewers: people who invest in the main characters almost automatically and assume that they'll be likable and interesting, and people who won't invest in the main characters until they feel that the main characters have proven that they're worth it.

Of course it's much easier for a character to please the first group: Loco may be ditzy, but she's a charming ditz, and surely that's enough for anyone. Meanwhile many people in the second group are stuck going, "Ugh, she's so ditzy!" and can't see past their rigid rubric of character worthiness to consider her other qualities.

[emma-in-oz.livejournal.com]

I was thinking of this in terms of MacDonald Fraser's Flashman series where he points out there are virtues for which certain eras will forgive almost any sins. In the 19th century it was courage for the sake of empire, whcih Flashy fakes. For us, his lack of hypocrisy and racism are get out of jail free cards.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I've noticed in older novels that there's often an assumption that readers will often forgive just about anything if it's done for romantic love. I read a book about a guy who pretty much stalks a girl - whose name he doesn't even know for ages! - across Europe during World War I, and the author clearly doesn't think this is any impediment to their marriage being a happy ending.

I think this is becoming less prevalent. Nowadays, it seems more common for people to forgive anything to characters as long as they're funny.