My love of mean people

Over the past couple of weeks, I have realized there are two people synonymous with Christmas, and I’m not thinking of the person who gave his name to the holiday. I’m talking about Jolly Ole St. Nick and Ebenezer Scrooge.
Over the past 170 years, Scrooge, star of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” has become a villain of dozens of books, movies, and television shows. Apparently, people love mean, old men who later redeem themselves.

You can put me in that category as well. I apparently love mean, old men. For reasons which I don’t believe are linked to Dickens’ 1843 classic, I love to write about mean, selfish and intimating fathers. Every one of my novels has a father who has either abandoned or verbally abused his child. Additionally, the antagonist always gets a chance to redeem himself.  Sometimes, they do. Sometimes, they don’t.

Why are overpowering male characters appealing to me as a writer and to society as a villain? In my opinion, there are many reasons. First, everyone likes a villain. Look at some of the top televisions shows: Breaking Bad, Mad Men, Homeland. Each one has villainous men in lead roles, yet despite Walter White or Don Draper’s faults, fans root for them.

Also, many people grew up with intimidating fathers. Everyone can relate to being young and frustrated by a parent, whose actions seemed selfish and cruel.

Finally, there are those moments of redemption. In popular culture, Scrooge realizes he’s unlovable and changes his ways. Unfortunately in real life, that doesn’t happen. Horrible people remain horrible people. The only change that ever happens is when they become more horrible. In our daily lives, there is no redemption.

Sometimes, we find out that our fathers aren’t cruel men who want to ruin our lives. They are wise and wonderful parents. Maybe, your father telling you to stay home and study for that test or not to date the guy who is 10 years older and previously married are not acts of a jerk, but some good parenting.

It’s eye-opening when we realize our fathers weren’t Scrooge, but a caring person who knows a lot more that we do. Those are happy endings.

And sometimes, Scrooge is Scrooge and no one gets a big, prize turkey at the end.