Betrayal has such a black-and-white sound, doesn’t it? But like most things, it isn’t anything of the sort. Betrayal of a country, an ideal, a lover, a spouse, a friend. It’s often impossible to be loyal to all. Which loyalty comes first?
Raoul says this to Mélanie in their scene in the library late in Secrets of a Lady. I found myself mulling over these words recently while driving home from a trip to Whole Foods (I do a lot of my best writing thinking in the car). So many of my books deal with betrayal in one form or another. It’s at the heart of four of my mom’s and my Anthea Malcolm Regencies (Frivolous Pretence, A Touch of Scandal, An Improper Proposal, A Sensible Match) and of all four of my linked historical romances, starting with Dark Angel with a wrote with my mom as Anna Grant and continuing with Shadows of the Heart, Shores of Desire, and Rightfully His. It’s the core issue of Charles & Mélanie series. I can’t imagine writing a book about Charles and Mel that didn’t deal with some facet of betrayal.
In a 2003 ARR interview, Rachel Potter asked me about the fact that many of my books have personal betrayal as a theme. It was something I hadn’t really thought about at the time. Thinking it over, I replied, “Personal betrayal goes to the core of what hurts most, what creates the bleakest dark moment, the deepest hurdle to overcome. That’s the stuff of good drama. Trust, I think, is essential to love, so a betrayal of trust is one of the most difficult challenges a love affair can face. Betrayal raises all sorts of interesting moral and ethical questions. “
I’m particularly intrigued by the moral and ethical dilemmas of characters caught between competing loyalties, as Raoul describes. That’s what I love about Len Deighton’s Bernard Samson books (which, pretty obviously, were one of the inspirations for the Charles & Mélanie books). There’s a wonderful scene in the television adaptation of Game, Set & Match (which I wish would be released on DVD) where a number of the characters (most involved in intelligence work in one way or another) are a dinner party and the talk turns to betrayal. They are discussing it in the personal, romantic sense, but the political overtones are there as well. It’s a fabulous scene, rich in subtext.
Themes of betrayal and competing loyalties go hand and hand with stories about spies. Characters in spy stories are always caught in ethical dilemmas, torn between competing loyalties (every episode of MI-5/Spooks seems to contain an ethical dilemma). Tom Stoppard’s wonderful play about spies, Hapgood, is all about betrayal. But so is another of his favorite plays of mine, The Real Thing, which is about marriage, with nary a spy in sight.
The pull between loyalty to a loved one and loyalty to a cause is summed up in Richard Lovelace’s I could not love thee, dear, so much, Lov’d I not honor more, which Mélanie quotes to Charles toward the end of Secrets. It’s a deceptively simple quote, which can seem trite (Mel in fact, is accusing Charles of dismissing her betrayal too lightly when she brings it up). And yet it says a lot about the tension between love and loyalty or between two competing loyalties. Of course, how one defines “honor,” (a word Charles is inclined to invoke and Mel is inclined to disparage) has a lot to do with which loyalty one puts first. As Raoul is pointing out to Mélanie, there’s often no easy, clean, “honorable” answer.
Do you like stories about betrayal? Why or why not? Any favorites to recommend? Do you find yourself noticing common themes within a writer’s work? Writers, are you aware of themes you return to again and again, or are you sometimes startled when someone points them out to you (as I was when Rachel interview me)?
This week’s Fraser Correspondence addition goes back to the exchange of letters between Mélanie and Raoul about loneliness and deception. It seemed appropriate to the topic.
April 6, 2009 at 2:08 pm
Yikes! Do I like stories of betrayal? Yes. No. As with anything, it depends on how well written it is. I CAN like almost any theme if it’s done well.
What is betrayal? Going back to The Scarlet Pimpernel – as usual – I’ve noticed that many readers view Margot’s actions as “betrayal”. To me, betrayal means hurting someone to whom you owe loyalty.
She didn’t owe the St. Cyrs any loyalty; they almost killed her brother AND plotted against the government she was supporting at that time.
Did she owe the Scarlet Pimpernel any loyalty? She admired him, but he was endangering her brother.
Is it better to betray a person you love or an ideal? In novels, I’ve noticed that female characters are expected to put aside their ideals for people, while male characters are expected to put their ‘honor’ first.
But as Charles realizes, Melanie believed in her cause more than he ever did in his own.
Sorry. Rambling.
April 6, 2009 at 4:53 pm
Not rambling at all, JMM. I think that’s what Raoul is getting at in the quote I used at the start of the post–what is betrayal and when loyalties conflict how do you pick which one comes first. I agree, usually in literature women are expected to put personal loyalty first, whereas men are expected to love “honor” more than their beloved. Honor, of course, as I blogged about a while back, can have a multitude of definitions.
April 6, 2009 at 5:12 pm
p.s.
JMM, do you not like stories about betrayal because you don’t like to see characters hurt each other? I agree it’s an uncomfortable subject, but I think that’s why it fascinates me as a writer. I like to put my characters in really uncomfortable situations and see if there’s a way out of them.
April 9, 2009 at 11:54 am
Difficult.
I’m well known as a person with a black and white sense of honor. It’s often been put to the test with friends I love and our vastly different political and religious views.
In novels people often say to a character who has strict personal guide lines that they are naive or overly simplistic. Implying always that once they live a fuller life they will find those beliefs challenged or tested. This is usually at the beginning of a story, the character with the harsh view has been sheltered, and indeed goes on a journey through the story that does test their ideals. The accuser is always proved right. It was a common theme in novels of my childhood (even though I can’t remember a single one at the moment).
I think stories like that stayed with me, so that when figuring out what my beliefs were I tried looking at every possibility and point of view before I spoke. Such as being a dedicated pacifist who would kill in self defense guilt-free. There are still unresolved issues where I’m unsure where I stand, like combining a belief in absolute freedom (aside from infringing on another’s freedom by physical force. Murder, rape violence and theft, the usual) and desiring stricter gun laws and other preventative measures.
I think the things a person should keep in mind in order to avoid being a hypocrite at some point are an acceptance of exceptions, deciding what the ultimate goal is (A sense of fairness? Generosity? Idealism?), and never believe in absolute loyalty. Like unconditional love or blind faith, it is sure to be tested and doesn’t necessarily deserve to be rewarded if you allow unfair suffering to innocent bystanders because of it. Because you simply can’t bring yourself to admit you’ve emotionally invested in something or someone that isn’t perfect.
The point of all that is I usually find characters with divided loyalties the ones that are overly simplistic and naive. So fiercely devoted to two seemingly opposing forces that they feel it’s required to choose, all or nothing. Life just isn’t that easy and everything is case by case.
Which is why I really enjoyed the dilemma in “Secrets of a Lady.”
I like how Charles immediately tried to find a justification for Mel’s betrayal, (due to his loyalty, love and faith in her) and when she denied him that comfort he tried to see from her side despite (or maybe because of ) the fact she didn’t try to defend herself. Not just because he loves her or is kind or intelligent, but because he has his own regrets. He’s done things that are viewed as honorable by those around him but deep down he’s ashamed of. Accepting her dishonest actions, because the beliefs behind them were virtuous, passionate and true, is almost a way to absolve himself of his own guilty conscious.
As for Mel, (despite my fierce views on cheating or lying in a relationship or the breaking of vows) her tangled web actually managed to draw my sympathies. Mostly due to the excellent timing of things. If, for instance, she had fallen for Charles before he proposed and accepted because she wanted him so desperately but did not tell him the truth because she knew she would lose him, I would have found her unacceptably selfish and weak. Her love would not be the right kind. Lying as a spy is always understandable in a novel when you believe in your cause. Marrying him for information, well that’s harsh if you think the man innocent but naive and justified if you see him as the enemy. The marriage vow is still a shame but aren’t so many in that time and place? People who marry for money or an heir or intend to cheat. Isn’t it often today? Having him be father to your child is very sticky, but didn’t she wait until she not only realized she loved him but also quit spying before she told him she wanted to make a child with him? Didn’t she partially marry him because he did not love her either, so their agreement was on equal footing and she did not have to pretend she did. She might not mind seducing a man for her country, but she was not so cruel as to pretend love or fidelity where it did not exist. Her main flaws as far as I can see were not quitting or confessing when she realized she loved him, and intending after she quit to never tell him at all.
A lot of angles to play with and morals to mesh for someone whose usually very straight forward ethically. As far as I’m concerned that made it a success.
April 14, 2009 at 7:00 am
Thanks so much for the thoughtful analysis, Angelique! I love seeing my stories and characters through other people’s eyes. One thing that always intrigues me is how some readers sympathize with Mel, and some with Charles (sometimes to the extent of not being able to see the situation from the other character’s perspective), while still others sympathize with both.
I think this is an interesting point you raise about Charles: “He’s done things that are viewed as honorable by those around him but deep down he’s ashamed of. Accepting her dishonest actions, because the beliefs behind them were virtuous, passionate and true, is almost a way to absolve himself of his own guilty conscious.”
I think in a sense Charles is almost jealous of Mélanie because she believed in her cause and what she was fighting for more than he believed in his own (he says as much to her in the last scene).
Reality tends to be much more complicated than ideals in the abstract. Raoul, who is older than both Charles and Mel and has seen more of the world and faced far more moral dilemmas, knows that to his sorrow. Even after Mel realized she loved Charles, if she’d told him the truth she’d had jeopardized the safety of Raoul and the other people she worked with. There was no easy way out. The moral ambiguity that results when loyalties collide creates drama that fascinates me as a writer.
April 14, 2009 at 11:29 am
Oh my god, I hadn’t thought about that!
Somehow I completely missed the fact that by confessing to Charles she was not just revealing herself but others as well. I got caught up in the idea that the only possible victims were them and their children, the only argument who was more in the wrong. Even if she told him but did not name names, just by quitting she was letting others down. Not just her cause, not just a large group, but actual specific people who depended on and trusted her. Who knew her first. Plus there was always the chance he would put two and two together from people he met through her in the past and would uncover them.
Just when I though I knew what I thought, you keep surprising me with new dilemmas!
April 14, 2009 at 4:52 pm
Right, loyalties goes beyond spouse and children, as Raoul points out to Mel in the quote at the top of the post. Mélanie’s loyalty to Raoul and her other comrades may not be greater than her loyalty to Charles and Colin and Jessica, but it is older. Even if she could keep their names secret, having her gone from the network would risk letting them down. And as you say, there’s every chance Charles would put two and two together, and Mel would put him in an impossible moral dilemma if she asked him to choose between betraying people she cared about and his loyalty to his country and his comrades. That’s actually still quite a thorny problem for them, even though the war is over. In “Mask of Night,” they come in contact with a number of former French spies and wrestle with the issue of their divided loyalties now the truth is in the open.