If We Were Villains

“Richard: ‘Hatred is the sincerest form of flattery.’

Alexander: ‘That’s imitation, dickhead.’”

This quick-witted exchange between Richard and Alexander shows the camaraderie the fourth-years shared before the Macbeth castings changed their world. Richard’s perspective also shows that he loves inspiring extreme emotions. Richard’s playful statement foreshadows his tragic fate.

“Actors were like oysters, she explained when anyone wanted justification for this emotional brutality. You had to crack their shells open to find the precious pearls inside.”

Gwendolyn’s teaching methods help actors bare their innermost feelings and infuse life into their performances. They can also be emotionally damaging. The methods show the education model at Dellecher exerts unique pressures on the psyche of the students.

“What is more important, that Caesar is assassinated or that he is assassinated by his intimate friends? … That,’ Frederick said, 'is where the tragedy is.”

Frederick’s comment on Julius Caesar zeroes in on the personal nature of tragedy. A tragedy is a betrayal by one’s own self or by those people one trusts (as in the case of Macbeth and King Lear as well). Frederick’s words also foreshadow the actual fate of Richard, who plays Caesar in the Dellecher play.

“If you haven’t made any enemies in life, you’ve been living too safely. And that is what I wish to discourage.”

Dean Holinshed’s provocative, attention-grabbing statement is a good example of the philosophy governing Dellecher. Oliver often blames this ethos for the extreme actions of his group of friends. Immersed in their theatrical world, Oliver and his friends gradually lose perspective and act in ways more befitting theatre than reality.

“Actors are by nature volatile—alchemic creatures composed of incendiary elements, emotion and ego and envy. Heat them up, stir them together, and sometimes you get gold. Sometimes disaster.”

Oliver makes this observation about the quick argument over what constitutes tragedy in Frederick’s class. He justifies the extreme reactions of his classmates as signs of actorly volatility. A actors, they so live with their emotions, they tend to infuse emotion into everything. Yet, there is a sinister warning in Oliver’s words: this proclivity of actors can lead to catastrophe, as it does in the novel.

“When we first walked through those doors, we did so without knowing that we were now part of some strange fanatic religion where anything could be excused so long as it was offered at the altar of the Muses. Ritual madness, ecstasy, human sacrifice.”

Dellecher is as much a character in the novel as any person; the institution inspires a cult-like devotion and requires a corresponding submission. According to Oliver, its philosophy of art above all muddles the perceptions of its students about right and wrong.

“‘People always forget about Filipa,’ I add. ‘And later they always wish they hadn’t.’”

Like Oliver, Filipa is easy to underestimate, partly because she is difficult to typecast. However, the unfolding events of the plot show Filipa is more capable of harboring deep emotions and keeping great secrets than anyone else in the friend group. Oliver himself is guilty of thinking of Filipa as a side character in real life, such as when he fails to notice the blossoming love between Filipa and Camilo during the Lear production.

“How could we explain that standing on a stage and speaking someone else's words as if they are your own is less an act of bravery than a desperate lunge at mutual understanding?”

Oliver shrewdly describes an actor’s real struggle, which is not simply to express emotion but also to communicate it to their audience. As actors, the Dellecher students try to channel the depth of their characters’ emotions by immersing themselves in their roles. It is the ability to establish that tenuous connection that makes the actor vulnerable.

“Richard floated on his back, neck twisted unnaturally, mouth gaping, face frozen in a Greek mask of agony. Blood crawled dark and sticky across his face from the crush of tissue and bone that used to be an eye socket, a cheek bone […]”

These lines show the novel uses explicit descriptions of violence when required. Violence is treated as visceral, ugly, and real. The novel’s treatment of violence is inspired by Shakespeare’s plays, in which death and conflict are presented in all their bleak, graphic reality.

“‘For us, everything was a performance.’ A small, private smile catches me off guard and I glance down, hoping he won’t see it. ‘Everything poetic.’”

Oliver’s statement to Colborne emphasizes that Dellecher itself was a stage for the fourth-years and their real-life actions a dramatic performance. Most of their conflicts occur in the presence of an audience or witnesses. This mindset also explains the performative nature behind some of their decisions; on occasion, the friends make choices for their dramatic worth, regardless of danger.

“There is no comfort like complicity.”

Shakespearean drama often explores the idea that it is easier to absolve oneself of sins committed when in a complicit group or a mob. In Julius Caesar, Caesar’s assassins can make morally outrageous choices because the blame divided between all of them seems to dilute to nothing. Oliver indicates a similar compunction that drives the fourth-years to agree to let Richard die.

“You’re telling me I have to drop out of Dellecher because Caroline needs some celebrity doctor to spoon-feed her?”

Oliver’s insensitive comment about his sister’s treatment shows how insular he has become in his world view. Life and people outside Dellecher do not seem to matter to him. His words illustrate the dangers of letting obsession take over one’s life.

“‘We did not kill him,’ Meredith said, instantly, angrily. I recognized the reflex, guilt kicking out against an allegation too close to the truth.

‘No of course not,’ Alexander said, and made every word sting. ‘We just let him die.’”

By Act III, the comfort of complicity has faded for the fourth-years. The guilt of Richard’s death now hangs heavy over all of them, including Alexander, who most encouraged them to do nothing as Richard died.

“‘You would have loved or hated him.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘That’s how he was.’

‘What about you? Did you love him or hate him?’

‘Usually both at once.’

‘Is this what you mean about feeling everything twice?’

‘Ah,’ I say. ‘You see, you do understand me.’”

This exchange between Colborne and Oliver highlights Richard’s larger-than-life persona, Oliver’s complex feelings for him, and Colborne’s ability to understand Oliver. Even in the present, Oliver maintains some of his elitism and tends to look down on Colborne as a sensible, worldly person. But Colborne’s understanding of a performer’s increased capacity for emotion shows he is more intuitive than Oliver assumes.

“He was as much a bully in death as he was in life, a giant who left behind not an empty space so much as a black hole, a huge crushing void that swallowed up all of our comforts, sooner or later.”

Richard dominates the dynamics of the group even after his death. His metaphorical lingering presence weighs on the students’ minds, showing that there are no convenient, easy endings in life. The fourth-years are living a tragedy, in which consequences of actions always catch up with actors.

“Doesn’t know where he stops and Edmund starts anymore.”

Alexander’s shrewd comment about James is yet another example illustrating the perils of losing oneself in a part. James has become so tangled in his roles that he’s losing sight of reality and acting in ways that would’ve once been unthinkable. This is the tragic flaw shared by James and Richard; in both cases, it leads to disaster.

“My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself. Because it is an enemy to thee.”

James quotes this line from Act II, Scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet to Oliver to show his remorse over hurting Oliver. In the play, Romeo says this to Juliet implying he hates his family name since it is an enemy of Juliet. James uses it to imply he hates himself for causing Oliver pain. James’s use of a line by Romeo to Juliet shows the depth of his passion for Oliver.

“One sin, I know, another doth provoke; Murder’s as near to lust as flame to smoke.”

These lines from Act I, Scene 1 of Pericles occur twice in the novel, in this instance spoken by Gwendolyn. They describe the thin line between sexual desire and the urge for violence, both visceral emotions. In the text, this provocative notion can be seen in the scenes where James hits Oliver.

“He was there, in that room where we’d tried to lock him up, shut him out of sight, with all our deadly sins to keep him company. I staggered to my feet, blundered into the hall and slammed the door.”

In Shakespeare, guilt is often an irrepressible force. In the novel, the sight of Richard’s room fills Oliver with guilt and grief. He understands that although he and the others have tried to move on, their guilt over Richard cannot be locked away. It will manifest itself in some form or the other.

“‘This,’ James said, when he had disappeared. ‘This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune—often the surfeit of our own behavior—we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars … as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforc’d obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting-on!’”

James as Edmund speaks onstage these lines from Act I, Scene 2 of King Lear. The speech, which rips to shred the notion that good and evil actions are fated or determined by stars, helps Oliver realize that they have blamed everything but themselves for Richard’s death. Even though their actions were influenced by some forces beyond their control, ultimately it was they who committed the actions. It is from a phrase in this speech that the novel gets its title.

“I don't know, it's like I look at you and suddenly the sonnets make sense. The good ones, anyway.”

Oliver’s spontaneous comment to Meredith exhibits the tender side of their relationship. It is clear Meredith symbolizes comfort and joy for Oliver. Throughout the novel, Oliver remains torn between Meredith and James. Though his love for James is more intense, his feelings for Meredith are substantial, and their relationship both grounds him and inspires him to break out of his stereotypical role. Oliver’s parallel passions for James and Meredith upends staid notions of fixed sexuality and love.

“The real sky was enormous overhead, making our mirrors and twinkling stage lights seem ridiculous—Man’s futile attempt to imitate God.”

Oliver has always been the most realistic of the fourth-years. After he discovers James’s crime, the set of Lear, which he so admired earlier, becomes inferior to the real sky. This quote also references the idea that while the actors can control the stage, they cannot control real life or the elements.

“My martyrdom is not the selfless kind. I can't look at Filipa, shamed by all the injuries I've inflicted—like a man with a bomb strapped to his chest, ready to blow himself up without a thought for the collateral damage.”

Oliver makes this enigmatic reflection when Filipa suggests she did not tell him the truth about Richard’s death because she knew he would protect James. Oliver’s observation displays his typical self-deprecation; he mocks the notion that he is a martyr, since he believes he is complicit in Richard’s death. Alternatively, he indirectly acknowledges that his sacrifice ended up hurting those he cares about, such as James, whom Oliver believes to be dead, and Meredith, who may think Oliver betrayed her.