Tag: trickster

Writing About Tricksters

I’ve talked about tricksters before, and nine months later, I realize I have more to say.

Tricksters are fascinating to read about and to write about. They’re the weirdos who exist on the fringes of polite society. They’re the ones who can get away with what other people can’t. They’re stick their tongues out at the world and make the rules work for them, rather than working according to the rules.

Tricksters are fun. They’re fun because, deep down, don’t we all enjoy seeing someone willing to say what we’re all thinking and doing what we wish we could? Tricksters are escapist characters. They pay back the jerks and the bullies, outwit the corrupt authority figures, and flout senseless and silly rules. We all enjoy our Robin Hoods and B’rer Rabbits.

Writing tricksters is fun, too. Writing the character of Hermes for my books has let me see the world from a different point of view. I suppose writing any character gives you such insights, but seeing the world through a trickster’s eyes …

They’re a surprisingly philosophical bunch. As characters whose primary role is to push boundaries and alter the status quo, they are naturally prone to questioning the point of things. Why are things the way they are? Why should (or shouldn’t) they change? Tricksters are the ones who can call out others for their actions and make the rest of the cast pause and think. And that makes for interesting writing. The archetype can fill all sorts of niches, whether the villainous anarchist, the secret mentor, the voice of reason, or the snarky smart aleck who gets all the best lines.

And then, of course, there’s the trickster as protagonist. Tricksters can carry a story all by themselves. By their very nature, they’re proactive. They get things done. The can save the day (or ruin it – protagonist doesn’t mean hero). Since the archetype is almost always transgressive in some way, he or she gets to give society a kick in the pants, usually by acting so outrageously or cunningly that nobody knows what to expect next.

Speaking of cunning, writing tricksters has also taught me a bit about plotting out, well, plots. I sometimes feel like we live in an age of fiction where schemes and trickery must be excessively complex. Writers like to create grand conspiracies, when a trickster is just as likely to tap you on one shoulder while standing on the opposite side. Committing a trickster like Hermes to the page has shown me that deception can be much simpler. Tricking people doesn’t really seem to be that hard. Often, it’s just a matter of reading people and playing up to expectations. Or remembering that most people just want today to be the same as yesterday and aren’t expecting to be hoodwinked. Then again, written characters also behave according to how the author has plotted them to behave, so maybe I’m just blowing smoke.

So, tricksters upend the social order. They slip into different roles with ease. They’re many things to many people. What they aren’t is moral, upstanding role models.

But …

What if a trickster tries to be moral? Is such a thing possible? Trickery is lying, and lying is immoral. Can you reconcile the trickster archetype with the hero archetype? Transgressing social values and upholding them? Can the two be melded? A liar with a moral compass? Can a trickster follow right and reject wrong? Can anything truly good come from trickery?

Very interesting philosophical musings, indeed. I’m still messing about with such notions in my writing. My version of Hermes is developing as I go, revealing new facets of his personality as my works progress. Tricksters aren’t simple characters, after all.

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My first book, A God Walks up to the Bar, is available on Amazon.com. Witness the modern day adventures of the Greek god Hermes in a world much like our own – and with demigods, vampires, nymphs, ogres, and magic. The myths never went away, they just learned to move on with the times. It’s a tough job, being a god!

What is a Trickster?

The Trickster is an ancient archetype in storytelling. You’re probably very familiar with it. The Trickster is the cunning mischief maker who can be a force for good or for evil. Whether he follows a moral code or just does whatever depending on his mood, he can be heroic, villainous, chaotic, comforting, terrifying, and anything in between. He has many names: Loki, Hermes, Coyote, Bes, Maui, Robin Hood, Bugs Bunny, and Jack Sparrow, just to name a few.

What is a trickster all about, though? What is their purpose in storytelling?

Well, here’s the pattern that I see in trickster stories. Tricksters are all about testing social boundaries. They push against social norms and challenge taboos. Sometimes this a bad thing, and the trickster learns the hard way why things are the way they are. Seemingly oppressive restrictions actually keep us safe and orderly. On the other hand, sometimes their rebellious nature is a good thing. Tyranny is overturned when the trickster sets his wits against the tyrant.

Tricksters also make us think. What is right and wrong? Why do social mores exist? Do the things I do in life actually make sense? Tricksters are constantly challenging the status quo. Their deceptions and antics expose the logic and assumptions that make up our culture. They also challenge pride and haughtiness. Tricksters are great for bringing a proud character down a couple pegs.

And at their most extreme, tricksters can overturn their own culture to usher in something entirely new. Tricksters are a force of change. Loki kickstarted Ragnarök and the end of the Norse gods with his cruel deceits. Maui fished up the islands of Polynesia and created much of the world as his storytellers knew it. Tricksters aren’t creators or destroyers, strictly speaking. They’re changers.

They’re also very fun to write. One of the reasons why I’m writing A God Walks Up to the Bar is because I enjoy the trickster archetype. Hermes is a rascal and a scoundrel, but a surprisingly complex one. There’s quite a bit of tension in a character whose divine portfolio contains contradictions. He’s the god of merchants and the god of thieves. He is a god of boundaries and borders, and he crosses those borders effortlessly as the god of travelers and roads. He’s the messenger of the gods despite being an authority figure himself. It’s fun stuff to play with. And I confess that I enjoy a bit of vicarious living through his stories. I can write about things that I would never get away with in real life.

Tricksters are fun characters. And scary. And interesting. And revealing. Like any archetype, they are a building block of storytelling, because they’re everywhere. In fiction and real life.

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