Crafted Characters and the Precedent for People’s Pasts

Our world is surrounded by works of fiction which are meant to be a portrayal of, or a commentary on reality, but the opposite often tends to be true. As people, we model ourselves based around the characters we see and are inspired by. I believe I’ve explored the damaging effects of this on the blog before. But a few weeks ago, I watched a series which enhanced my views on the differences between characters and people:

Skins.

More specifically, Skins series 7, and contextually, series 1-4 before it. Skins, for those of you who don’t know, is a British drama focused on college students (age 17/18) and their lives. It’s a show that certainly doesn’t shy away from the crass and apathetic attitudes of some groups of students studying today, and because of this, excels at some brilliant characterisation. (I do have some criticisms about the plausibility of particular events in some episodes, but I’m not here to do a detailed review.) The show’s first two seasons revolve around a different group of friends than the next two seasons (and subsequent fifth and sixth seasons which I skipped). What’s really interesting, though, is season 7, which is a compilation of three two-part episodes focusing on three of the different characters from the first four seasons, and showing where they are years later in their lives when they’ve matured into adults.

Season 7 of Skins has an advantage over so many other works of fiction, in that it has an established selection of characters to re-mould as they wish and throw into a fresh, unrelated story. The viewer is aware of their past and the dramas that unfolded within, but these events do not have the disadvantage of existing solely to affect the character’s motives within the current narrative. This, then, is what makes season 7 of Skins such an interesting collection of stories to me. It’s so much more realistic. For instance, I, as a 21 year old, am considerably different to me as a 16 year old. When I enter into a moment of change and event in my life, I’m not going to suddenly find that events that mattered so much to me as a 16 year old are actively shaping how I act now, with flashbacks and heart-to-hearts with others about what happened back then. And that’s exactly how exposition typically works in fiction. A character’s past is crafted to suit the present, and that’s a design that separates the fictitious from the real.

To put what I just said into an example (without giving spoilers): People die in Skins. Not many. Not an unrealistic amount. But they do. And the characters, in the first four seasons, are understandably and irrevocably changed by this. It is a tragedy which has happened recently in their lives, and they are coping with it, and are surrounded by others who are too. But a few years later, they’re surrounded by different people, they’ve matured, new things have happened, and whilst they’ve still been shaped by their past, it would now be odd to drag up the past to fit into their current situation. The name of a character who dies isn’t brought up by a season 7 protagonist who was, when last we saw them, heavily affected by this, and the viewer can feel this absence of closure as they watch this new, unrelated story. But it adds so much more to the protagonist as a character to have this irrelevant, yet deeply character building past.

And finally, to touch on my remark at the start of this post: We are not the fictional characters we admire. Our pasts do not stay continually relevant to our current situations, and indeed, making sure that this isn’t the case is integral to our development as constantly learning human beings. And season 7 of Skins was, to me, a sombre reminder that just because the person in front of you is together and not in the middle of some life-shaping event, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t in a completely different place just a few scant years ago. Everybody has a story, but not everybody feels the need to tell it over and over.

 

History and I

At the end of Year 9, we were made to choose the subjects we’d pursue our GCSE’s in. Well, to put it how it felt at the time, we were free to drop the subjects we didn’t like, timetables permitting. And whilst this mostly meant the difficult decision between keeping either French or Geography on the cards (I chose French and got my lowest GCSE grade in it, an E), it also meant that some of the teachers tried to advertise their subjects to you in an attempt to steer you down their path. My music teacher failed to convince me I had any musical talent, but my history teacher surprised me by helping me realise how much I actually enjoyed the subject.

It’s odd, as the stereotype is that history teachers are stuffy old farts who bore their students to sleep. But I’ve always had interesting, quirky or funny teachers. My GCSE history teacher was a great man who shared the exasperation of his students on certain issues, made good conversation and most importantly, joined us in oversimplifying and taking the piss out of certain events and figures in the histories we studied. I can’t say that I would have chosen Medicine Through Time as my own personal field of study, but I evidently enjoyed it enough to pursue history as an A-Level. And besides, it was as close as I ever did get to studying any ancient history, as we touched on the Egyptians, the Greeks and the Romans, and their interesting notions of how to stop people shitting to death on a regular basis.

To do A-Level history, I had to hop on a minibus and go to an entirely different school, as mine didn’t feel like shelling out money for the subject if I was the only Year 12 student to take it. And I can’t complain too much because it gave me the opportunity to meet an entirely new group of people who I shared some great times with. The first module of A2 History was, rather unfortunately, 20th century British politics, which would have definitely bored me to sleep had I not had an odd combination of teachers. One was similar to my GCSE teacher in that he joined us in taking the piss out of history, but he also took an active interest in the social lives of his students and their gossip about the rest of the yeargroup. The other was probably the most on-task and professional history teacher I’ve had, but rather than drawling on or being boring like the aforementioned stereotype, she was enthusiastic and motivating. The modules, besides the British politics one which did end up showing relevance this past week (more on that later), ended up being thoroughly interesting, with a module on Vietnam teaching me much about American politics and one particular module on Russia between 1850 – 1950 being absolutely gripping.

I am no historian. In fact, I got a D for my A-Level (and not for want of trying for a C). But there’s often times when I stop and wonder whether I might have taken this path in life if I didn’t have my love of writing, and fiction. I remember attending an open day at university for history as part of a class-wide field trip and, while it was never a difficult decision to choose Creative Writing, I can’t entirely say I was bored stiff there, either, though the hard work required for it was probably a little out of my league. But lately, after watching history-based dramas like The Crown (hello 20th century politics) and The Last Kingdom, and The Tudors long before that, I can’t help but feel fascinated by the past and feel a drive to independently research eras of history that interest me. Last week I actually bothered to look through the entire list of American presidents, though not extensively so; it just bothered me that I didn’t know much about them from before the 50’s. I’m somewhat interested in learning generally about the entire history of England, from its very origins to today.

I think the reason why history captures me as it does is the knowledge that this stuff actually happened, and the only barrier between this reality and that one is time. I started being sucked in to the extended universes of fictional fantasy worlds like Warcraft, A Song of Ice and Fire and The Elder Scrolls. I was always most intrigued by the long-forgotten formation of worlds and races and lands, which ultimately led into civilisations and politics and wars until it filtered down into current events, and every time I delved into these fictional worlds a voice nagged at the back of my head, reminding me that I know more about the monarchy of the Targaryens than I do about the British kings and queens that they’re inspired by. And whilst I’ve never been attracted by the notion of writing a novel based in a real historical setting myself, I do feel compelled to know the way the world was shaped into what it is today – whether that is due to reasons of fictional creativity or political scrutiny. Only time will tell.

(Note: For anyone who expected today’s blog post to be about Donald Trump, I believe last week’s post to still be perfectly relevant to my feelings on the matter. I have nothing more to add to the current chatter of social media regarding the topic.)

The Possibility of President Trump

Holy cow. By the time I wake up, there’s a decent possibility that Donald Trump will be elected to become the most powerful man in the world. And in case you’re left wondering about my personal bias, then allow me to assure you that if this happens, I’ll be quite certainly distraught. In fact, I’m already quite upset that the world has gotten to this point, where a large percentage of Americans want an elite and selfish America, where a large percentage of Brits wanted us to leave the EU and look out for purely ourselves. We seem to be regressing to an age of nationalism and pride rather than international co-operation and communication. And as the world becomes more technologically advanced and more connected, you’d expect the latter to be the safer bet.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the rapid evolution of humans in both a cultural and a technological sense, and it’s immediately clear to me that shedding our previous animal traits in preference for more civilised ones is imperative to the continued success of our species. Rape is a horrifying crime, not a fact of the mating world. Violence is replaced with communication, so we can solve our problems instead of killing each other over them. Intelligence is fast outgrowing the need for physical strength, and anyone who wants to cull the gene pool in a fit of utilitarianism is forsaking the imperative rule of human compassion for regression into the previously physically driven tribal world. And most relevantly to this discussion, we’ve evolved from hitting that other band of humans with sticks and rocks until they’re dead, to embracing our differences and working together to live longer.

Can you tell what I think of nationalism in regard to that last remark? Donald Trump wants to “make America great again”, a statement which could mean the uprooting of many of the previous decades of human evolution. He’ll make the US focus more on itself as a military power and frontier of the world, than he will care about diplomacy with other countries. Driven by a life of prejudice and power, Donald Trump is the kid who believes that keeping all the resources for himself is the right thing to do. And it’s alarming that there are enough people in America – and likely in other countries too – that agree with him enough to give him the power to see this through.

If I was to put it in a simple, insulting way, then I suppose I’d say that Donald Trump is a shortsighted neanderthal who puts prejudice in the way of diplomacy, and believes that speaking louder and blocking his ears will get him further in life. And so far, he’s not been proven wrong on that front. But that also brings to mind another point – the social media’s opposition to Donald Trump. I have seen countless posts making fun of his appearance, of his voice and his life and making many personal attacks against his character, and whilst I don’t exactly sympathise with the man and have more than likely participated in this behaviour without thinking, it’s also the kind of behaviour which validates the man. Instead of hearing a strong, ruling voice against him that’s backed by logic and genuine concern, he is – in his own mind – validated in covering his ears and speaking louder because all he hears are irrelevant insults from the anonymous majority. I’d call that the Katie Hopkins effect. When anger gets in the way of your protesting, you shouldn’t spit your vehemence at your target, as you’ll only weaken your own voice. And that’s a flaw that I’ve seen repeated across humankind day in and day out. Our anger gets the better of us, and leads us down self-destructive paths that allow men like Donald Trump to ascend the throne of the world’s largest superpower.

I’m always preaching this on my blog, but I’ll end this with the reminder that our current western culture and civilisation is not a certainty in life. Countless generations have been born into it and we have developed a complacency to this way of life and adopted it as normality. In reality, it’s a fragile construct which could be knocked down at any time by nukes directed by hatred and anger. When you’re voting for a world leader, you’re not just voting for somebody who you agree with to do the things that sounded good to you and those around you. You’re putting into power somebody who has the ability to change the very shape of the world. And that’s often forgotten in petty prejudices and hatreds.

Graduation – The Day and the Future

Last Thursday, I graduated. And it was pretty great! I wore a suit and a robe and a funny hat that made me feel like I was balancing a dinner plate on my head. And whilst what I said last week still holds true and I perhaps didn’t feel as accomplished or worthy as some of the other people at graduation, I still had a damn good time and did manage to muster some semblance of pride in myself. It was wonderful to see my uni friends again to compare congratulatory hats, and overall it’ll probably go down as one of the best days of my life.

The craziest thing for me was that I wasn’t nervous. At all. And that’s kind of a big deal for me, because I’m the kind of guy who does get nervous about these things. When I first showed up and didn’t know where to go for a minute, I was a lil’ insecure, but that’s mostly because I don’t like looking lost and alone. And then my hat started to fall off mid-ceremony so there was some anxiety about it deciding to venture off to pastures new mid-handshake as I was on stage, but a quick re-adjustment whilst still sat down took care of that potential calamity. And besides that, it was smooth sailing. I don’t think I’ve felt confident at any public event in my life but something kept me calm, and I think it was the knowledge that I belonged there.

Of course, the issue with a Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing is that there aren’t exactly many job opportunities waiting for you when you step out of the sanctuary of purpose that is university work. As I discussed last week, I’ve found a surprising level of meaning in the job that I currently have, and it’s only proven to me that my path in life is going to stray from writing for perhaps a little while, while I sort things out. There are many aspects to each individual, and whilst I’ve dedicated an entire university course to writing over the last three years, that’s not the entirety of who I am as a person. It’ll always be a core part of who I am, though, and I’ll continue to express myself via blog posts and other little writing projects before I reach a time in my life when I start to dedicate more time to it.