Unit 9 · Topic 9.2

9.2 Characters who surprise us

Watch how characters respond as the conflict comes to a head. Their words and actions show what they truly value. When a character does something that doesn't fit how they've acted before, it should make you rethink that character, the people around them and the work's ideas.

Key terms

character response
inconsistency
values
characterization
reinterpretation

Responses under pressure

Characters reveal the most when the stakes are highest. As a conflict resolves, characters have to choose, and those choices show which values win when values collide. A character's reaction to bad news, a temptation or a revelation often tells you more than pages of description.

In Ibsen's A Doll's House (1879; translated by R. Farquharson Sharp, 1910), Nora expects her husband, Torvald, to protect her when her secret loan is exposed. Instead he turns on her. When a second letter arrives saying the danger is over, his first words are about himself: "I am saved! Nora, I am saved!" Nora's reply, "And I?", shows her seeing him clearly for the first time.

When a character surprises you

An inconsistency is an action that doesn't match a character's established pattern. Good writers use inconsistencies on purpose. Don't dismiss them. Ask what they reveal.

Does the surprise reveal a value that was hidden all along?
Does it show that the character has changed?
Does it expose something about the people around them, who expected otherwise?
Does it change what the work seems to be saying?

Huck Finn's choice

In Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884), Huck has been raised to believe that helping an enslaved person escape is a sin. Late in the novel, he writes a letter to Miss Watson telling her where to find Jim, who has escaped from her and been Huck's companion on the river. Huck feels "washed clean of sin." Then he remembers Jim's kindness on their journey, and he tears the letter up, saying, "All right, then, I'll go to hell."

This is the novel's turning point. Huck believes he is choosing damnation, but the reader sees him making the most moral choice in the book. The surprise doesn't just change how we see Huck. It indicts a whole society whose religion and laws taught a boy that friendship with Jim was wicked.

Rereading earlier scenes

A surprising response sends you back through the work. Once Torvald fails Nora, his earlier pet names for her, like "little skylark" and "squirrel," stop sounding affectionate and start sounding like the way a person talks to a pet. Once Huck tears up the letter, his earlier moments of guilt about helping Jim read as the slow growth of a conscience he doesn't have words for.

This is why the CED stresses characters' responses as a conflict resolves: the ending often tells you how to read the beginning.

Worked examples

Try each one yourself first, then open the solution.

Example 1
Explaining what a surprising choice reveals
Huck, holding the letter to Miss Watson, says: "I was a-trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it." Then: "All right, then, I'll go to hell"—and he tears it up. Explain how this choice changes your understanding of Huck and of the novel's ideas.
Show the solutionHide the solution
1. Step 1: State the two things he's deciding between: obeying the rules he was taught (return Jim) or acting on his own feeling for Jim (protect him).
2. Step 2: Note the surprise: Huck has absorbed his society's views and believes he is choosing sin.
3. Step 3: Find the irony: the reader sees his choice as right. Huck thinks he is choosing sin, but you understand his choice better than he does, which is a form of dramatic irony.
4. Step 4: Connect to the novel's ideas: the problem lies in the society's morality, not in Huck's conscience.
Answer: Sample answer: Huck's decision shows that his real values are stronger than the ones he was taught. He trembles because he believes he is deciding "forever, betwixt two things," salvation and damnation, and he chooses what he thinks is hell for Jim's sake. The irony is that readers see the choice as Huck's most decent act. Twain uses this gap to turn the novel's satire on the society that raised Huck: if a boy must believe he is damning himself in order to treat a friend as a human being, then the town's churches and laws, not Huck, are what's wrong.

Common mistakes

Treating an inconsistent action as a flaw in the writing. Ask what it reveals.
Describing what a character does at the climax without explaining what it shows about their values.
Forgetting the other characters. A surprising choice often exposes the people around the character too.

On the exam

Multiple-choice questions may ask what a character's reaction reveals or how a response complicates earlier impressions. Compare the reaction to how the character acted before.
In the literary argument essay, a surprising choice near the climax is a strong anchor for a paragraph about the work as a whole.

Connected topics

Videos

Does Nora really transform in 'A Doll's House'? | Character analysis
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Symbolism, Realism, and a Nordic Playwright Grudge Match: Crash Course Theater #33
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A Dolls House by Henrik Ibsen | Summary & Analysis
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Characters' thoughts and feelings | Reading | Khan Academy
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Check yourself

4 questions on 9.2 Characters who surprise us. Pick an answer to see if you got it, and why.

ALGERNON. Well, that is exactly what dentists always do. Now, go on! Tell me the whole thing. I may mention that I have always suspected you of being a confirmed and secret Bunburyist; and I am quite sure of it now.

JACK. Bunburyist? What on earth do you mean by a Bunburyist?

ALGERNON. I’ll reveal to you the meaning of that incomparable expression as soon as you are kind enough to inform me why you are Ernest in town and Jack in the country.

JACK. Well, produce my cigarette case first.

ALGERNON. Here it is. [Hands cigarette case.] Now produce your explanation, and pray make it improbable. [Sits on sofa.]

JACK. My dear fellow, there is nothing improbable about my explanation at all. In fact it’s perfectly ordinary. Old Mr. Thomas Cardew, who adopted me when I was a little boy, made me in his will guardian to his grand-daughter, Miss Cecily Cardew. Cecily, who addresses me as her uncle from motives of respect that you could not possibly appreciate, lives at my place in the country under the charge of her admirable governess, Miss Prism.

ALGERNON. Where is that place in the country, by the way?

JACK. That is nothing to you, dear boy. You are not going to be invited . . . I may tell you candidly that the place is not in Shropshire.

ALGERNON. I suspected that, my dear fellow! I have Bunburyed all over Shropshire on two separate occasions. Now, go on. Why are you Ernest in town and Jack in the country?

JACK. My dear Algy, I don’t know whether you will be able to understand my real motives. You are hardly serious enough. When one is placed in the position of guardian, one has to adopt a very high moral tone on all subjects. It’s one’s duty to do so. And as a high moral tone can hardly be said to conduce very much to either one’s health or one’s happiness, in order to get up to town I have always pretended to have a younger brother of the name of Ernest, who lives in the Albany, and gets into the most dreadful scrapes. That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and simple.

ALGERNON. The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete impossibility!

JACK. That wouldn’t be at all a bad thing.

ALGERNON. Literary criticism is not your forte, my dear fellow. Don’t try it. You should leave that to people who haven’t been at a University. They do it so well in the daily papers. What you really are is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a Bunburyist. You are one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know.

JACK. What on earth do you mean?

ALGERNON. You have invented a very useful younger brother called Ernest, in order that you may be able to come up to town as often as you like. I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the country whenever I choose. Bunbury is perfectly invaluable. If it wasn’t for Bunbury’s extraordinary bad health, for instance, I wouldn’t be able to dine with you at Willis’s to-night, for I have been really engaged to Aunt Augusta for more than a week.

JACK. I haven’t asked you to dine with me anywhere to-night.

ALGERNON. I know. You are absurdly careless about sending out invitations. It is very foolish of you. Nothing annoys people so much as not receiving invitations.

JACK. You had much better dine with your Aunt Augusta.

ALGERNON. I haven’t the smallest intention of doing anything of the kind. To begin with, I dined there on Monday, and once a week is quite enough to dine with one’s own relations. In the second place, whenever I do dine there I am always treated as a member of the family, and sent down with either no woman at all, or two. In the third place, I know perfectly well whom she will place me next to, to-night. She will place me next Mary Farquhar, who always flirts with her own husband across the dinner-table. That is not very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent . . . and that sort of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous. It looks so bad. It is simply washing one’s clean linen in public. Besides, now that I know you to be a confirmed Bunburyist I naturally want to talk to you about Bunburying. I want to tell you the rules.

JACK. I’m not a Bunburyist at all. If Gwendolen accepts me, I am going to kill my brother, indeed I think I’ll kill him in any case. Cecily is a little too much interested in him. It is rather a bore. So I am going to get rid of Ernest. And I strongly advise you to do the same with Mr. . . . with your invalid friend who has the absurd name.

ALGERNON. Nothing will induce me to part with Bunbury, and if you ever get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will be very glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.

JACK. That is nonsense. If I marry a charming girl like Gwendolen, and she is the only girl I ever saw in my life that I would marry, I certainly won’t want to know Bunbury.

ALGERNON. Then your wife will. You don’t seem to realise, that in married life three is company and two is none.

JACK. [Sententiously.] That, my dear young friend, is the theory that the corrupt French Drama has been propounding for the last fifty years.

ALGERNON. Yes; and that the happy English home has proved in half the time.

JACK. For heaven’s sake, don’t try to be cynical. It’s perfectly easy to be cynical.

ALGERNON. My dear fellow, it isn’t easy to be anything nowadays. There’s such a lot of beastly competition about. [The sound of an electric bell is heard.] Ah! that must be Aunt Augusta. Only relatives, or creditors, ever ring in that Wagnerian manner. Now, if I get her out of the way for ten minutes, so that you can have an opportunity for proposing to Gwendolen, may I dine with you to-night at Willis’s?

JACK. I suppose so, if you want to.

ALGERNON. Yes, but you must be serious about it. I hate people who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them.

Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, Act I (first performed 1895; published 1899)

Question 1 of 4

Jack’s claim in paragraph 10 that a guardian “has to adopt a very high moral tone on all subjects,” followed by his admission that he invented Ernest “in order to get up to town,” reveals

LUBOV. We go away, and not a soul remains behind.

LOPAKHIN. Till the spring.

VARYA. [Drags an umbrella out of a bundle, and seems to be waving it about. LOPAKHIN appears to be frightened] What are you doing?... I never thought...

TROFIMOV. Come along, let’s take our seats... it’s time! The train will be in directly.

VARYA. Peter, here they are, your goloshes, by that trunk. [In tears] And how old and dirty they are....

TROFIMOV. [Putting them on] Come on!

GAEV. [Deeply moved, nearly crying] The train... the station.... Cross in the middle, a white double in the corner....

LUBOV. Let’s go!

LOPAKHIN. Are you all here? There’s nobody else? [Locks the side-door on the left] There’s a lot of things in there. I must lock them up. Come!

ANYA. Good-bye, home! Good-bye, old life!

TROFIMOV. Welcome, new life! [Exit with ANYA.]

[VARYA looks round the room and goes out slowly. YASHA and CHARLOTTA, with her little dog, go out.]

LOPAKHIN. Till the spring, then! Come on... till we meet again! [Exit.]

[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA and GAEV are left alone. They might almost have been waiting for that. They fall into each other’s arms and sob restrainedly and quietly, fearing that somebody might hear them.]

GAEV. [In despair] My sister, my sister....

LUBOV. My dear, my gentle, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my happiness, good-bye! Good-bye!

ANYA’S VOICE. [Gaily] Mother!

TROFIMOV’S VOICE. [Gaily, excited] Coo-ee!

LUBOV. To look at the walls and the windows for the last time.... My dead mother used to like to walk about this room....

GAEV. My sister, my sister!

ANYA’S VOICE. Mother!

TROFIMOV’S VOICE. Coo-ee!

LUBOV. We’re coming! [They go out.]

[The stage is empty. The sound of keys being turned in the locks is heard, and then the noise of the carriages going away. It is quiet. Then the sound of an axe against the trees is heard in the silence sadly and by itself. Steps are heard. FIERS comes in from the door on the right. He is dressed as usual, in a short jacket and white waistcoat; slippers on his feet. He is ill. He goes to the door and tries the handle.]

FIERS. It’s locked. They’ve gone away. [Sits on a sofa] They’ve forgotten about me.... Never mind, I’ll sit here.... And Leonid Andreyevitch will have gone in a light overcoat instead of putting on his fur coat.... [Sighs anxiously] I didn’t see.... Oh, these young people! [Mumbles something that cannot be understood] Life’s gone on as if I’d never lived. [Lying down] I’ll lie down.... You’ve no strength left in you, nothing left at all.... Oh, you... bungler!

[He lies without moving. The distant sound is heard, as if from the sky, of a breaking string, dying away sadly. Silence follows it, and only the sound is heard, some way away in the orchard, of the axe falling on the trees.]

Curtain.

Anton Chekhov, The Cherry Orchard (1904), the end of Act IV, translated by Julius West (1916)

Question 2 of 4

Fiers’s worry that Leonid Andreyevitch (Gaev) “will have gone in a light overcoat instead of putting on his fur coat” (paragraph 25) reveals

IAGO. Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their souls.

Who steals my purse steals trash. ’Tis something, nothing;

’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands.

But he that filches from me my good name

Robs me of that which not enriches him

And makes me poor indeed.

OTHELLO. By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts.

IAGO. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,

Nor shall not, whilst ’tis in my custody.

OTHELLO. Ha?

IAGO. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;

It is the green-ey’d monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss

Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;

But O, what damned minutes tells he o’er

Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

OTHELLO. O misery!

IAGO. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;

But riches fineless is as poor as winter

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend

From jealousy!

OTHELLO. Why, why is this?

Think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy,

To follow still the changes of the moon

With fresh suspicions? No. To be once in doubt

Is once to be resolv’d: exchange me for a goat

When I shall turn the business of my soul

To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,

Matching thy inference. ’Tis not to make me jealous,

To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,

Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;

Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:

Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw

The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt,

For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago,

I’ll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;

And on the proof, there is no more but this:

Away at once with love or jealousy!

IAGO. I am glad of it, for now I shall have reason

To show the love and duty that I bear you

With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,

Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.

Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;

Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure.

I would not have your free and noble nature,

Out of self-bounty, be abus’d. Look to’t.

I know our country disposition well;

In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks

They dare not show their husbands. Their best conscience

Is not to leave undone, but keep unknown.

OTHELLO. Dost thou say so?

IAGO. She did deceive her father, marrying you;

And when she seem’d to shake and fear your looks,

She loved them most.

OTHELLO. And so she did.

IAGO. Why, go to then.

She that so young could give out such a seeming,

To seal her father’s eyes up close as oak,

He thought ’twas witchcraft. But I am much to blame.

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon

For too much loving you.

OTHELLO. I am bound to thee for ever.

William Shakespeare, Othello, Act 3, Scene 3 (1622 quarto; 1623 folio)

Question 3 of 4

Iago’s warning against jealousy in lines 12–23 is ironic chiefly because

Question 4 of 4

In lines 24–40, Othello’s speech chiefly reveals his

0 of 4 answered