Every year my book club decides on a classic novel to revisit (spoiler alert for a future Book Journal post – this year it’s John Cheever’s short stories).  A few years ago, we chose to re-read Wuthering Heights because for some reason or another none of us had picked it up since high school. We were all excited to revisit this classic romance on the desolate moors… only to discover characters who seem romantic when you are young might not always seem that way. We all came in ready to rant and rave about how infuriating Heathcliff and Cathy were – to themselves, to each other, to everyone else. We were all so annoyed with them, but it didn’t stop us from enjoying the book (or the very lively discussion!).

 I’ve been thinking about this, and several other books that I liked even when the characters drove me nuts, because of a book I (barely) finished this week with unlikable characters that left me with almost no feelings at all. The Night Climbers by Ivo Stourton tells the story of a collection of (mostly) wealthy and privileged students at Cambridge and their antics (and crimes). I was discussing it with a friend, and she pointed out it can be very unsatisfying to have a cast of characters who are so unlikable but never get their comeuppance and I think she’s on to something… if this had been a story about consequences and growth it might have pulled me in. Instead, the main characters end up (with one exception) well-employed and together. So, what else does a book need to make you engage with and enjoy it without a loveable cast of characters?

There have been loads of discussions about this regarding television and the rise of the anti-hero (looking at you Tony Soprano) but something about reading an unlikable character feels different – and perhaps more difficult. Especially in the case of a first-person narrative like The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. In the case of Gatsby, I’d say the story works because in the end wealth does not equal happiness or even satisfaction for our characters. Also, as a reader you get the puzzle of the unreliable narrator – one of my favorite literary devices.

Other books full of unlikable characters teach us about humanity in all its forms. One of the reasons Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart is a modern masterpiece is because so many of the characters are unlikeable (cruel, selfish, harsh) but none of them are caricatures. Every individual in the novel is fleshed out. Stuart doesn’t excuse behavior – which would make the novel infuriating – instead he uses the narrative to explain their character and actions with a level of human understanding that makes it impossible to write any of them off as pure monsters.

Plenty of literature’s most famous characters live in the realm between hero and villain. Crime and Punishment’s lead Raskolnikov may be a murderer but in my recent rereading I realized the character whom I liked the least was actually Marmeladov, Sofya’s father, the man who made the life of his wife and daughter horrible for decades. With his very large cast Dostoyevsky’s creates a story that is not just about Rodya’s failures and guilt but also the failures of society as a whole.

Then of course there’s the novels that give us someone who is just a villain – but a very interesting one. One of my most recent favorites is the immortal and totally unethical doctor from Dana Schwartz’s Anatomy because for all of his capacity for terrible deeds he’s also the only character to evaluate and appreciate our main character’s medical skill in spite of her gender. Not only does he acknowledge it, but he offers her the chance at immortality in the hope society will change its mind about female doctors. I loved the dilemma he created for me as a reader when I almost wanted her to follow his advice rather than sacrifice the opportunity to save her love.

Likeability is a moving target – you’re bound to like or dislike a character on the page just as much as you are bound to like or dislike people in your life – but if a writer is going to convince a reader to spend time and mental energy on a character they need to be engaging and their story needs to have purpose. Jane Austen knew Emma Woodhouse was going to drive her readers a bit mad (and she does) but she also gives us character development and shows how you can strive to fix your mistakes. Rodya’s story is not just about his own guilt but also about some of the biggest social and philosophical questions you can imagine. Schwartz’s villain makes the reader question their own priorities in life, love or career (and the fury that we always have to choose one or the other).

Unlikable characters offer so many possibilities for both a writer and a reader I can’t wait to meet the next one on my bookshelf…