We all know that transforming characters and a driving plot make for great stories. Something we discuss less is how contrasting ideals—and the conflict they create—can also enrich a story.
This week in the United States we will be celebrating the signing of our Declaration of Independence in 1776. Thinking on the ideal of independence has had me pondering how philosophical convictions play a role in our stories. If used well, they can enhance the narrative allowing the story to transcend the characters and become something more.
A Conflict of Freedom in Les Misérables
Take, for example, the book Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. In the story, multiple characters are seeking independence, but not necessarily together.
In fact, their pursuit of freedom often contradicts one another. What one character thinks of as independence will threaten the pursuit of what others seek.
Enjolras: Freedom From Governmental Oppression
Enjolras, the leader of the student group Les Amis de l’ABC, fights for political independence from a form of government. Calling for an end to monarchy and a turn to democratic ideals, Enjolras and his cohort pursue political freedom. Enjolras’ fight for freedom ends at the battle of the barricade where he and his friends are killed.
As the son of a wealthy family, Enjolars’ pursuit of this freedom had been theoretical until violence broke out.
Jean Valjean: Freedom From Social Oppression
In contrast, Jean Valjean’s desire for independence is very personal. Hugo’s main character is pursuing independence from a social status that has threatened his survival from the onset of the story. To live in the status assigned to him by the culture, Valjean must steal bread to feed his family, to escape incarceration (multiple times in the book), and live in hiding under multiple names.
His pursuit of independence from economic and social oppression are similar in content to Enjolras, but different in intimacy.
Cosette: Freedom to Love
Cosette, Valjean’s adopted daughter, pursues a very different type of independence. While her guardian tries to hide, she longs for the freedom to live and to love. She wants the life of a young woman who is free to explore the world. This desire comes to a head when she falls in love with Marius Pontmercy.
Cosette’s longing for freedom from Valjean’s rules brings her into direct conflict with Valjean’s pursuit of freedom from the social system that has threatened his life.
A Conflict of Values
While the story of Valjean, Cosette, and Enjolras is wonderfully told by Hugo, I believe part of what has allowed his work to transcend time and be repeated in music and film is the philosophical discussion of independence. It is the ground the characters walk on. If we can also build a philosophical world for our characters to live in, our stories will be better for it.
What other stories use freedom as a driving theme and source of conflict? Let us know in the comments.
PRACTICE
Take fifteen minutes to write a story in which two characters are pursuing contrasting understandings of independence.
Maybe a mother needs her eldest daughter to babysit while she works, but all the eldest daughter wants to do is hang out with her friends. Or maybe a student waxes elegantly about independence to an elder who has paid for it in blood.
Create two contrasting characters and use them to build a discussion about independence.
When you're done, share your story in the comments below, and don't forget to leave feedback for your fellow writers!
This story came from no where when I entered the title, “Independence Day.” Is there more where this came from – a complete story just waiting to be told.
Independence Day
Dale is certain this is the day he will be free. After fifteen years in prison, he is due to be released. He asked Delores to meet him at the front gate – after he has changed into the street clothes she brought for him yesterday.
His cellmate, Charles, is faking sleep, his head turned to the wall.
“Charles, I know you are awake, and I do want to say goodbye.”
“Hurrump.”
“OK, I’ll just say my part. You don’t have to say anything.”
Dale pulls up the only chair in the cell and speaks to Charles’s back.
“We’ve shared some very difficult times since you joined me here five years ago. I was suspicious at first, uneasy because you are so much bigger than I am. They had told me you were coming from maximum security to do the rest of your time here – another reason I was uneasy. I had adapted to prison life by being a loner and, luckily my only other cellmate was of similar bent – just wanting to be left alone. Sometimes it does work out and prison is just waiting for freedom – not being a victim again.”
“So, you think you will be free just because you are walking out the door of this place. I just want to be free of the demons in my head – and there is no place I can go that will do that for me.”
“You’ve never mentioned anything like that before – in five years of sharing this space, you’ve just talked about how it was in MAX and how glad you were to be here.”
“That’s my truth. I am glad to be here, but the demons are getting louder already because you are leaving. When we talk, they are quiet. Now they are screaming at me about how unfair it is – how I should hurt you and not let you leave. That’s what got me sent to MAX – I killed my roommate – who was a lot like you – to keep him from leaving. It’s like I have to keep you here in order for me to be free of the demons.”
Dale didn’t feel threatened, although he felt deeply the truth of what Charles was saying. How could it be that his freedom – walking out of prison – might mean a hellish kind of prison for Charles. Did he owe Charles something for keeping him safe from other prisoners for the past five years.
Could he choose to stay? Not because Charles had threatened him but simply because choice itself is freedom.
I love the twist in the story, it was unexpected. I also like how you shaped both the characters without describing them. The whole scene is very vivid. Great work
Thank you, Fabio. This is a scene that emerged as I was writing it – not a situation I’m really familiar with, so it was a bit of a surprise.
Originally written in Portuguese, I translated it in a rush to post here. The intention is to show what freedom means to the wife and to the husband.
“Simone arrives at home in the evening and throws the keys over the coffee table. The very same table she rests her tired feet. She looks at her plump toes while stretching and pressing them. She leans her head against the backrest and scares away the cat, because old Finch is sharpening the nails in the shabby pattern. A bath. A hot bath. The water will go down the head, run through the hair, relax the back and the legs. She could also feel that. The towel will neither be hard nor worn out, but green and soft and scented, as if it had just been picked up from the cleaners. The bath would last as long as Simone wished, if she were spoiled, or as long as she needed, if it were a day like today. Later, in warm comfy clothes, she would sit for supper. A hot soup, croutons, a glass of wine and the silence of a tidy home. She could also sleep early or late, watch soap operas or series. Maybe if Jonas were not working nights, they could talk about her day, totally faithful to how it had been. No details hidden. The couple would scatter the month bills over the dinner table. Each would pick, fairly and lovingly, what one could afford with his or her own salary. No negative balance, last moment loans or exceeding the credit card limit.
Jonas arrives a little later and finds Simone like that, leaning in the armchair, feet over the coffee table, with her eyes closed and a faint smile on her face.
– What are you laughing at? Were you working or flirting with someone? – he said rudely.
Simone didn’t even get the chance to answer. He kept on and on.
– If you stay that long there, you will serve supper late and I’m going to miss the game with the guys.
– Are you going to watch the game at the bar?
– Where else could I watch it? Here?! – he speaks pointing out to the room while heading to the bedroom – My only night off in two weeks. All I want is to watch the game, drink a few beers and when I get back…
Jonas looks at Simone from the door, drumming the fingers on the doorway.
– I want to feel you willing to have some fun with me.”
Harry sighed deeply, his back leaning forward even more, his face leaning ever so slightly to the desk.
He wanted to take his glasses off, close his eyes, cushion his head on the table with his arms and drift off to sleep, but he didn’t want to appear like a slouch to the staff.
Honestly, Harry thought internship is great, it felt everything he has studied for is finally all coming together, and all his hard work is finally pushing him step by step, day by day, to the date of his graduation. Only six months more, and Harry will not make mistakes again, he will definitely pass this time around. Any thoughts of failing and repeating again made his heart fall, so he tried to erase all doubts about himself from his mind.
Someone drops a few lab requests with taped specimens on them from my right. I looked at the cashier’s back blankly, he was going back to the front with the empty specimen box. Yep, it was only my post who had been given more work to do.
By force of habit, I examined the blood specimens lazily, noting that none of them are rejected. I nodded to myself. Good. I’m not going to call another department again. I hate the telephone.
I blearily read them and wrote the names, the ID number, the lab tests, the time and the date down on the Chemistry list. I grabbed a marker and marked both the lab requests and the specimens with their assigned numbers. Without prompting, I passed the lab requests to my left, to my mute intern mate who was busily reading his reviewer and writing down notes. I stood up, and carried the specimens to the big old centrifuge, carefully opened the machine, placing the specimens in the correct order and started it. Satisfied that I didn’t do anything wrong, I turned back to my seat. I saw my intern mate sitting there and ignoring the lab requests I placed at his side.
“James,” I called him out.
“I’ll work later,” he muttered without looking at me. “You do it first.”
A bit annoyed, I told him “you said that earlier.”
He looked at me standing there. I looked back at him. It wasn’t much of a staring match, we were both too dead-eyed.
“Please, I need to study.” He said to me. Then he just turned back to his reviewer and ignored me again.
I huffed, but did it anyway. It was unfair, it really was. It’s not as if Harry didn’t have to study too, he did. His intern mate will only going to have a quiz to study for but Harry has to study for a major exam. It’s not that Harry didn’t want to study, it’s just that he knew he would only be wasting energy if he studied now. He knew he wouldn’t absorb an ounce of it.
I quietly transmitted the lab requests to the computer, and then to the machine and triple-checked everything in case I got something wrong. Then I passed the lab requests to the staff, who only nodded to me as she watched some tv series on her phone and placed the papers at her side. I checked the time. It took fifteen minutes for the blood specimens to be prepared for testing, I took five minutes transmitting so I have ten minutes more to go, so now I can go back to my seat and just wait.
I sighed as I wearily sat and placed my head on my arms on the desk and closed my eyes. To heck with it, the staff isn’t looking anyway. The cashier always makes some sort of sound to wake me up anyway.
“Harry, I’m sorry you do everything right now. I promise, come midnight I’ll do everything then. You can just sleep here. I just need to study right now.”
“Mmhm.” I replied lowly.
“It’s just, my grades are coming down, alright?”
“Mhm.”
“I feel like I’m going to get low grades if I don’t study now.”
“Hm.”
“I don’t want to fail, you know?”
Annoyed, I shifted away from him and burrowed my head further. Really, this guy needs to shut up now. The gut-churning thoughts of failing entered my head again, and I shifted restlessly.
“Harry?”
I waited for him to say more.
“Harry? Wake up, the specimens are done. You can take them out now.”
Thank you! Happy 4th of July!
“I’m going, don’t try to stop me.”
“I’m not even trying.”
Charles slowly moves his gaze from the trees on the horizon to his son. Mike is standing on the porch. Tall and strong, he has his same build, but there is a grace in his eyes that doesn’t come from genes. Every time he looks his son in the eyes, he can almost hear his late wife whispering in his ears.
“But you won’t give me your blessing.”
Mike keeps clenching his fists, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Like a kid that doesn’t want to admit that he needs to go to the loo. He’s wearing the clothes they use when they go hunting. But this time it’s not about hunting hares in the wood.
“Why do you need my blessing? Do you have doubts?”
“No, I’m sure! I can’t stand here while the guys in the woods are fighting for our independence. I can’t understand why you aren’t coming. What happened to all your talks about freedom?”
“I am already free, Mike. I’m ready to die for my freedom, but I won’t kill for it.”
“So, because you are scared to fight, you don’t want me to go?”
Charles smiles. The passion, the fire inside his boy, reminds him of a stubborn young Charles, going against everything and everyone only to prove he was free.
“You aren’t a kid anymore, son. You have to make your own choices, that’s freedom. And you don’t need my blessing. You already have my love.”
Charles turns again to face the sun setting down on the hills. He knows this may be a farewell. He doesn’t want for his son to see his tears.
“Goodbye, dad.”