Let’s Talk: Pirates, Assassins, and Thieves, Oh my! Why We All Love a Good Antihero

anti-hero – noun

A central character in a story, film, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes.

I love a good antihero. Considering the rise in the numbers of less than traditional protagonists in recent years, I’m definitely not alone. The anti-hero, in all their shades of grey glory, is definitely not a new feature to literature but these days, the image of the perfect hero is increasingly being left behind. Pirates, assassins, thieves, rebels, vigilantes, it’s pretty clear that these aren’t the kinds of people we’d want to run into on a darkened street, let alone hang out with on a regular basis. The majority of the time these people are engaged in activities we consider less than savoury or if they are acting heroically, in many cases it’s for completely the wrong reasons (money, power, revenge, glory). And yet, why is it that we’re so fascinated and excited by the Victor Vales, Kelsiers,  and Nikolai Lantsovs of the book world?

They’re Diamonds (Flawed)

One of the most appealing parts of anti-heroes is the fact that they’re perfectly imperfect. I think we can all agree when I say, who wants to read about a character that never makes a mistake and is always selfless – let me just polish that halo for you. It’s BORING. Better yet, it’s not realistic. It’s safe to say that there is no person out in the world walking around without at least one flaw, bad habit, or annoying characteristic. Anti-heroes may not always have the same issues that we do or to the same degree, but we can empathise with their fallibility. I’d much rather read about a character who understands that feeling of being happy for a friend while simultaneously being bitter and resentful towards them, or who also wishes they could occasionally punch someone in the face (and does). They make the wrong decisions, fail in their endeavours, or just act simply in their own self-interests from time to time.

But it’s watching them succeed despite these things that’s so much fun. Sure, Edmund Pevensie’s betrayal of his brother and sisters to the White Witch for attention and affection may make us want to slap a bitch. However, it makes his actions later on in which he overcomes his insecurities (and just plain idiocy) in order to help save Narnia that much more satisfying.

They’re Roller-coasters (Unpredictable and Exciting)

Predictability can be comforting, it’s safe. However, it’s also bloody dull. Typical heroes can always be counted on to dive into the fire to save the world and sacrifice themselves for the greater good. They don’t betray people or suddenly chicken out at the last moment (okay, okay, heroes other than Monty Python’s King Arthur when forced face to face with a bloodthirsty rabbit). As a result, a reader can generally work out exactly what they’ll do in any given situation. *Zzzzz* Sorry, I think I just fell asleep in boredom. Anti-heroes on the other hand are a little more unpredictable. You never know exactly when they’re going to move beyond their idiosyncrasies and do something actually heroic.

Or better yet, just at the point when you start to get too comfortable and think of them more as a hero, bound by certain rules or obligations, they do something so questionable that you’re forced to re-evaluate your entire perspective on them again. A great example of this is Jay Kristoff’s Nevernight in which Mia Corvere tricks, and essentially poisons, a classmate to death in a bitter and misplaced act of revenge. While she may be our protagonist, Kristoff makes it very clear that Mia is far from a haloed hero.

They’re Like Onions (Complex & Layered. Not the Crying Part. Well, Maybe for Some People…)

The best writers create complex characters with interesting backstories and layered personalities. One of my favourite things about reading a book series is comparing my views on, and knowledge about, certain characters at the end to what they were when it first began. Anti-heroes tend to provide some great room for complexity and depth. Mostly because we’re so fascinated by learning exactly how these people have come to be the morally questionable or closed off individuals that they are. I mean, for example, what would Kaz Brekker’s character have been without the flashback devoted to his brother? Or those of a young Lisbeth Salander covering her abusive father in gasoline before setting him on fire? The inclusion of the right moment or experience can irrevocably change a character on the page and in a reader’s eyes. Severus Snape’s entire character was explained and completely altered in the space of one chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. These are the moments I flip page after page searching for because I know that everything will suddenly click into place. Mystery Solved.

Well, sort of.

They’re Like Businesses (Potential for Growth)

While villains provide one of the best canvases for character growth through the means of a redemption arc, antiheroes also hold a great deal of potential, even if it may not always be in the typical “heroic” direction we expect. One could argue that George RR. Martin’s Arya Stark’s growth could be characterised as the growth from a hero into an anti-hero in that she becomes a stronger, more independent, and morally grey individual so as to allow her to take actions she might once have considered wrong. On the flip, and possibly more satisfying, side of things we have the development of anti-heroes towards acting more like a traditional hero (but still with their own sense of flair). Readers enjoy watching questionable individuals strive to try and be better, to do better.

There’s nothing more entertaining than an anti-hero experiencing that “Oh, crap” moment where they realise that they’re not a shit enough person to just walk away and leave everyone to misery and destruction. I don’t know about you, but I definitely wanted to cheer when Scott Lynch’s Locke Lamora decided to try and save the city’s population rather than hopping the nearest boat and high-tailing it out of there to avoid the blast radius.

They’re Optical Illusions (They Challenge Us to Think Differently. Yes, My Analogies are Getting Worse)

There’s nothing like a whole lot of theft and bunch of mass murders to challenge a reader’s thinking process. Viewed in isolation, the violent acts of characters like Celaena Sardothien or Dexter Morgan would be considered morally questionable at best however, the particulars of their stories (e.g. trying to free a kingdom from tyranny, or the killing or murderers) is what causes us to question and think about ethics. Where does the line sit for our support of certain characters? What happens if they cross it? Just how good a reason does this person need to have to slit someone’s throat and still remain in our good books? The answer will vary from person to person and story to story because there always has to be a line. Stray too far across it and the character is no longer an anti-hero, they’re a villain and I don’t know about you, but I did not sign up for some American Psycho like stuff.

Bye, Jared Leto!

Then again, maybe you’re someone willing to completely set aside morality for a few hours of reading, simply to live vicariously through someone else. In that case, you do you. Rock on.

There we have it! While there are a great number of pitfalls to anti-hero characters, just like anything in literature, I’ll save the discussion of those for another time.

What do you like and dislike most about anti-hero characters? Who are some of your absolute favourites and why?