You Know the Type

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I've been blogging about how to write in a more literary fashion.  One very common theme literary authors use in writing is the archetype.  Literary devices.net states that "an archetype is a typical character, an action, or a situation that seems to represent universal patterns of human nature."  Universal patterns, themes, and meanings are critical to shaping literature.  Using a good character archetype can effectively elevate your character beyond just a specific cowboy, artist, barbarian, etc. and turn him/her into a statement on the human condition capable of making a statement or social commentary in every scene he or she enters. 

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Without much thought, many of us could name several archetypes we know.  The common archetypes, as listed on Literarydevices.net are the hero, the mother figure, the innocent youth, the mentor, the doppelganger, the scapegoat, and the villain.  Some sources include 12 archetypes.  Others could name many more.  It would not be hard to name several of each type in literature.  Fairy tales are full of all of these, transparent in that so many fairy tale characters are named by type rather than individual names (Stepmother, Ella ("elle" in French means girl), Jack (a generic term for boy), Witch, Wolf, and so on.  In Star Wars, it's easy to name several of these as well.  Luke starts an innocent youth who eventually becomes a hero.  Padme is the mother figure.  Obi-Wan is the mentor.  Darth is the villain. You get the idea.  They're everywhere in literature because they come from and speak to the human condition and the "collective unconsciousness," as Jung calls it, or simply the culture.  In using these archetypes, we're alluding to all others like them.  We're inviting the reader to compare our mentor, mother, hero, etc. to those that came before in a way that can be fruitful and meaningful.  

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In the recent series "The Mandalorian," the creators of the show calls on a vast lineage of movie westerns when the titular main character walks into a bar without saying much and easily handles all who oppose him.  The audience recognizes this universal type immediately, and all they know from stories past sits below the surface.  We all know what to expect.  Except he then becomes intriguing, unique, different when he breaks type and becomes surrogate daddy to The Child, aka Baby Yoda.  This is a story we haven't necessarily heard before.  Traditional mentor becomes innocent child.  Hero/antihero/villain becomes mentor/father figure.  This is new and exciting.  

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The danger here is when we allow those archetypes to remain an obvious and flat stereotype.  If the witch is just a faceless villain in a classical fairy tale, that's okay simply because they're types more than characters.  However, if we just use a type instead of making in unique and fresh or self-aware or relatable or meaningful, we're not writing in a literary fashion.  We're not saying anything deep or profound except we believe in lazy writing.  What makes your witch, wolf, hero, villain, princess, etc. special?  Why should we root for your hero?  What makes us care about her?  Is your villain relatable?  Does he have motivation the reader can understand?  Does your hero have human failings?  Is she self-destructive, angry, vindictive, envious?  Is your innocent youth not so innocent after all?  Could it be that the wolf and mentor are really one and the same?  

Go through your characters and figure out in which archetypes your character may fit.  What makes them universal, understandable, and relatable?  What literary lineage are you drawing on to make this character?  How does this help?  How does the presence of a scapegoat or mother figure or some other type make allusions or invite comparisons to others in that type?  How does he/she stand out and make this character unique?