Evil. Is there such a thing? How does one become “evil”? Surely evil does not materialise out of thin air. Surely human beings are not born evil. Or am I being naïve or idealistic in making such a statement?
True, history has witnessed many unspeakable crimes committed by mankind, and we continue to witness them. We do live in a tainted, ugly world. But I also feel it is all too easy to label someone as “evil” without trying to understand how and where that person went wrong, if he or she ever really did.
Seeing the musical “Wicked” yesterday has got me thinking (The Glinda response to this would be: “Oh no!”). Over the years my fondness for musicals has diminished somewhat, and I now believe many musicals today are a bit too commercial and phony. But seeing a classic like “Wicked” has not only revived my interest in musicals, but also sparked in me an inward debate about what is truly evil.
What if all villains were like Alphaba—an awkward outsider whose reputation for evil came merely from a dangerous mix of misunderstanding, propaganda and simply pure bad luck?
After some thought, I’m starting to adopt a more-than-generous philosophy, one similar to that presented in L’Annonce Faite à Marie. In this very spiritual and beautifully-written play, Paul Claudel asserts that there is no such thing as good and evil, but instead all human beings have their role to play in God’s plan, His establishment of “order” in the universe. When I first read it, the cynicist in me had much trouble with this argument. Then again, I have never been very religious.
What makes a villain a villain?
Three classic proverbs come to mind when I ask this question:
“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” (Attributed to Saint Francis de Sales, Letter 74 from Bartlett's familiar quotations)
“No good deed goes unpunished,” to which the musical “Wicked” alludes most explicitly in the song “No good deed” and whose main message overlaps with the first proverb. (Attributed to Clare Boothe Luce)
“You cannot begin to understand someone unless you walk a mile in his shoes.” (I’m positive I’ve got the phrasing wrong, but I know it’s a Chinese proverb. It’s also a prevalent theme in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird.)
Take for example Shakespeare’s most famous villains: Macbeth and Shylock. Macbeth was not bad in the beginning. He was an honourable man, a noble warrior and initially hesitant to commit murder. But once given the encouragement he needed, he became corrupted by power and fear, a monster who would do anything to secure his throne. Shylock, who has come down in history as a cold-blooded, mercenary villain (“A pound of flesh”), can also be viewed as a sympathetic character, all too often discriminated against for being a Jew (“Hath not a Jew eyes?”). He is determined to exact revenge on those who mocked his faith. One can argue he has just cause to be bitter and angry.
Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles explores the role of fate in the heroine Tess’s life as well as in life in general. While I don’t think Tess comes close to being a true villain, the novel definitely shows how extreme misfortune can provoke the most innocent of characters to eventually commit murder. Fate also plays a trick on Humbert Humbert, a rapist and eventual murderer. He is a man forever haunted by a childhood memory—his first love, a so-called “nymphet”, who died suddenly at a tender age. It is this painful childhood memory that fuels his lustful obsession of Lolita. While watching the film version of Lolita, an intellectual friend of mine once remarked to me that ironically Humbert Humbert was the only sympathetic character in the whole film, because he was the only person capable of loving someone else. I personally don’t know whether he truly loved Lolita; I tend to think he simply lusted after her. To be fair, I should also mention that he is an unreliable narrator. Most murderers are not as deceptively eloquent as Humbert Humbert. Or perhaps now I am assuming too much.
In the entertainment industry, we have also seen sympathetic villains.
The film “The Talented Mr. Ripley” provides us with an intimate and startling view of a serial killer. Tom Ripley is the ultimate awkward outsider—the pale, nerdy type. He believes it is better to be “a fake somebody than a real nobody,” and will do anything to emulate Dickie Greenleaf, his idol, the epitome of cool. In fact, his first killing occurs simply out of self-defense. The rest of his crimes arise from his efforts to conceal his first killing as well as his long-life desire to live a lie, to be a fake somebody.
“The Godfather” charts the evolution of a man who initially distances himself from his family history of crime and wants to follow the right route. But when his father’s life is thrown into jeopardy, the dangerous killer in Michael Corleone gradually awakens. He will sacrifice his sense of morality when matters get personal. He will avenge his family at all costs. Is Michael Corleone evil? It’s really hard to say. I believe the whole film questions our notion of what is good and evil, especially in that blood-chilling sequence that juxtaposes scenes from Michael’s nephew’s baptism and his simultaneous murders.
One of the themes that I find fascinating about the Harry Potter series is the parallel relationship between Harry and Voldemort. They are both lonely orphans who only find a real sense of home in Hogwarts. They share similar powers; their wands are made of the same core. They have direct access to each other’s thoughts. It is this pivotal connection between the series’ hero and villain that un-polarizes our view of Voldemort, the epitome of evil. Through glimpses into Voldemort’s origins, we also see how he once was a human being and whose hideous crimes center around one weakness: a perpetual fear of death, a weakness to which the good and wise Albus Dumbledore can even relate.
I could go on and on about this universal subject, and explore examples that complicate our inherent beliefs about what is right and wrong (I also wanted to talk about The Forsythe Saga, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Road to Perdition, and even Swan Lake). Also important to note is that I did not bring up any real-life examples. I wish I were more familiar with current affairs and news so that I could analyze a real-life example more completely. However, I still believe it is worthwhile to examine literature and film to prove my point. As the saying goes, “art imitates life.” I also strongly feel that art distorts reality in order to enlighten our perception of it.
From my own experience, I have not personally met anyone whom I could call truly evil. I certainly know people who are angry and bitter, who have known hardship or whose perceptions of reality are skewed. It is in these delicate circumstances that these people can make bad judgments and become mean or vicious. Then again, I am still young and idealistic, and I have yet to see much of the world. I sometimes wonder to myself if I were less fortunate, or had a weaker sense of home and familial comfort, it might be more difficult for me to be nice or considerate.
So is there such a thing as evil? I do not know, perhaps I never will. For all the doubt I have about the true existence of evil, I still find it hard at times to believe that the world’s most hideous crimes can merely be explained away by the workings of fate and human frailty. It’s scary and unsettling to know that the line between good and evil can be crossed so easily. But there is one thing I know for sure: The more we “humanize” a person (by humanize, I mean empathize), the harder it is for us to brand that person as “evil.”
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