Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (12 page)

“And if it were, Mercedes, poor and lone as you are, you suit me as well as the daughter of the first ship owner or the richest banker of Marseilles! What do such as we desire but a good wife and careful housekeeper, and where can I look for these better than in you?”
“Fernand,” answered Mercedes, shaking her head, “a woman becomes a bad manager, and who shall say she will remain an honest woman, when she loves another man better than her husband? Rest content with my friendship, for I say once more that is all I can promise, and I will promise no more than I can bestow.”
“I understand,” replied Fernand, “you can endure your own wretchedness patiently, but you are afraid to share mine. Well, Mercedes, beloved by you, I would tempt fortune; you would bring me good luck, and I should become rich. I could extend my occupation as a fisherman, might get a place as clerk in a warehouse, and become in time a dealer myself.”
“You could do no such thing, Fernand; you are a soldier, and if you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war; so remain a fisherman, and contented with my friendship, as I cannot give you more.”
“Well, I will do better, Mercedes. I will be a sailor; instead of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I will wear a varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue jacket, with an anchor on the buttons. Would not that dress please you?”
“What do you mean?” asked Mercedes, with an angry glance,—”what do you mean? I do not understand you?”
“I mean, Mercedes, that you are thus harsh and cruel with me, because you are expecting someone who is thus attired; but perhaps he whom you await is inconstant, or if he is not, the sea is so to him.”
“Fernand,” cried Mercedes, “I believed you were good-hearted, and I was mistaken! Fernand, you are wicked to call to your aid jealousy and the anger of God! Yes, I will not deny it, I do await, and I do love him of whom you speak; and, if he does not return, instead of accusing him of the inconstancy which you insinuate, I will tell you that he died loving me and me only.” The young girl made a gesture of rage. “I understand you, Fernand; you would be revenged on him because I do not love you; you would cross your Catalan knife with his dirk. What end would that answer? To lose you my friendship if he were conquered, and see that friendship changed into hate if you were victor. Believe me, to seek a quarrel with a man is a bad method of pleasing the woman who loves that man. No, Fernand, you will not thus give way to evil thoughts. Unable to have me for your wife, you will content yourself with having me for your friend and sister; and besides,” she added, her eyes troubled and moistened with tears, “wait, wait, Fernand; you said just now that the sea was treacherous, and he has been gone four months, and during these four months there have been some terrible storms.”
Fernand made no reply, nor did he attempt to check the tears which flowed down the cheeks of Mercedes, although for each of these tears he would have shed his heart’s blood; but these tears flowed for another. He arose, paced a while up and down the hut, and then, suddenly stopping before Mercedes, with his eyes glowing and his hands clinched,—”Say, Mercedes,” he said, “once for all, is this your final determination?”
“I love Edmond Dantes,” the young girl calmly replied, “and none but Edmond shall ever be my husband.”
“And you will always love him?”
“As long as I live.”
Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man, heaved a sigh that was like a groan, and then suddenly looking her full in the face, with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils, said,—”But if he is dead”—
“If he is dead, I shall die too.”
“If he has forgotten you”—
“Mercedes!” called a joyous voice from without,—”Mercedes!”
“Ah,” exclaimed the young girl, blushing with delight, and fairly leaping in excess of love, “you see he has not forgotten me, for here he is!” And rushing towards the door, she opened it, saying, “Here, Edmond, here I am!”
Fernand, pale and trembling, drew back, like a traveller at the sight of a serpent, and fell into a chair beside him. Edmond and Mercedes were clasped in each other’s arms. The burning Marseilles sun, which shot into the room through the open door, covered them with a flood of light. At first they saw nothing round them. Their intense happiness isolated them from all the rest of the world, and they only spoke in broken words, which are the tokens of a joy so extreme that they seem rather the expression of sorrow. Suddenly Edmond saw the gloomy, pale, and threatening countenance of Fernand, as it was defined in the shadow. By a movement for which he could scarcely account to himself, the young Catalan placed his hand on the knife at his belt. “Ah, your pardon,” said Dantes, frowning in his turn; “I did not perceive that there were three of us.” Then, turning to Mercedes, he inquired, “Who is this gentleman?”
“One who will be your best friend, Dantes, for he is my friend, my cousin, my brother; it is Fernand—the man whom, after you, Edmond, I love the best in the world. Do you not remember him?”
“Yes!” said Dantes, and without relinquishing Mercedes’ hand clasped in one of his own, he extended the other to the Catalan with a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of responding to this amiable gesture, remained mute and trembling. Edmond then cast his eyes scrutinizingly at the agitated and embarrassed Mercedes, and then again on the gloomy and menacing Fernand. This look told him all, and his anger waxed hot.
“I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I was to meet an enemy here.”
“An enemy!” cried Mercedes, with an angry look at her cousin. “An enemy in my house, do you say, Edmond! If I believed that, I would place my arm under yours and go with you to Marseilles, leaving the house to return to it no more.” Fernand’s eye darted lightning. “And should any misfortune occur to you, dear Edmond,” she continued with the same calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought, “if misfortune should occur to you, I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from it.”
Fernand became deadly pale. “But you are deceived, Edmond,” she continued. “You have no enemy here—there is no one but Fernand, my brother, who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend.”
And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look on the Catalan, who, as if fascinated by it, came slowly towards Edmond, and offered him his hand. His hatred, like a powerless though furious wave, was broken against the strong ascendancy which Mercedes exercised over him. Scarcely, however, had he touched Edmond’s hand than he felt he had done all he could do, and rushed hastily out of the house.

 

Exploration Points

 

1.
How do Mercedes’ and Fernand’s initial Action Objectives prompt their responses throughout the scene?

 

Mercedes approaches this scene with a very strong Action Objective. She will not be swayed in convincing Fernand that she loves another. Apparently, from her demeanor, she’s had to deal with his persistence many times and has grown tired of it. Unfortunately for her, Fernand’s Action Objective is just as strong.

First Fernand brings up the subject of a wedding. Mercedes’s Action Objective immediately becomes: “To cut this conversation short.” Response: She calls him stupid for even asking again. Fernand amends his Action Objective slightly so that it becomes: “To use various forms of argument to change Mercedes’s mind.” He tries guilt, saying that Mercedes’ mother approved of their marriage and that Mercedes is making him miserable by refusing him. Mercedes refuses the guilt. Then Fernand alleges that she is disobeying a sacred law by not marrying him. Mercedes says it is not a law but merely a custom. Then she turns the tables on him, saying in effect that he is bound by the law, for he is a soldier and could be called to battle any moment. Then, if she were his wife, what would become of her? She is too poor to be of financial help to him. Fernand responds that her poverty doesn’t matter. Here, Mercedes reminds him of her ultimate reason—she loves another man. Fernand tries guilt once more—”instead of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I will wear a varnished hat …”

Fernand’s Action Objective now becomes: “To persuade Mercedes that Edmond will not return to her, because of either inconstancy or death at sea.” Mercedes new Action Objective: “To defend Edmond.” When Fernand asks her “final determination,” she declares her ultimate response—”None but Edmond shall ever be my husband.” Fernand challenges her. What if Edmond is indeed dead or has forgotten her?

When Edmond Dantes unexpectedly appears and asks who Fernand is, Mercedes’s Action Objective is twofold: “To set Edmond’s mind at rest by declaring my love for him, and to pave the way for him and Fernand to be friends.” Fernand’s Action Objective: “To hold myself together in the sudden presence of my enemy.” Unfortunately for Fernand, he cannot bring himself to be cordial, and his mere countenance makes Edmond realize he
is
an enemy. Mercedes’s Action Objective: “To prove to Edmond that her love for him is more important than her friendship love for Fernand—”If I believed that, I would place my arm under yours … leaving the house to return to it no more.”

When Mercedes sees the pure hatred in Fernand’s eyes, a new Action Objective arises: “To protect Edmond.” She declares that if misfortune occurred to Edmond, she would kill herself. Then she exerts her power over Fernand to make him take Edmond’s hand in friendship. Fernand’s Action Objective: “To protect whatever relationship I have left with Mercedes.” Response: he forces himself to take Edmond’s hand.

 

2.
From Fernand’s point of view, this scene is so powerful that it works almost like a mini-novel, incorporating all the Four Ds. If Fernand’s initial Action Objective (“To convince Mercedes to marry me”) serves as the first D, his Desire, what are the other three?

 

The other three Ds lead the scene in logical progression from Fernand’s Desire to the answering end.

Distancing:
The series of conflicts leading to the Denial. Fernand can’t persuade Mercedes to change her mind. She won’t yield in the face of guilt or any of the other arguments Fernand presents. Then she becomes angry with him. She refuses to allow herself the smallest doubt that Edmond will return. When Fernand continues to imply that Edmond could be dead or untrustworthy, Mercedes goes even further, declaring that if Edmond were to die, she would die, too. In short, there is no way that Fernand can ever win her love, even with Edmond out of the picture.

Denial:
Fernand sees Mercedes in the arms of his rival, again declaring her love for Edmond even to the point of killing herself if Edmond were to die.

Devastation
: Not only has Fernand failed to win Mercedes for himself, but now in order to see her again even in friendship, he must extend his hand to the man he despises. The deed proves too much for him.

 

3.
Think of your own main character? What is his or her Desire?

 

Have you stated this Desire in the form of an action verb? Is it specific and just right for your story? Does it have a desired action followed by the ultimate goal (in other words, two prongs)?

 

4.
Take a look at one of your scenes.

 

Determine each character’s initial Action Objective and subsequent objectives. Are they clear? Do the characters act and react with logical coherence? Do any of their actions seem out of sync with their overall Desire? Make any changes necessary to strengthen the scene, applying the Four Ds and Action Objectives as needed.

 

FROM:
Sidetracked
(stand-alone suspense), by Brandilyn Collins.

 

SETTING: Small-town Kentucky, present day. First chapter.

 

In the beginning comes the end.
April in Redbud, Kentucky brings to full bloom the trees that give our town its name. Pink blossoms against blue sky. Daffodils push up yellow and sassy. Lilies are still in stem but boast lush promise. Tulips splash the yards, multicolored and fragile. Spring days are warm without summer’s humid oppression. The time of renewal.
Spring was my favorite season. Once.
In the dark just after nine-thirty I drove away from the town’s Methodist church, a white wooden building with a tall steeple. I was the last to leave Clara Ann Crenshaw’s wedding shower, having stayed around to clean up. After all, I was the one who’d thrown the party for Clara. She had left a few minutes before, her car chock full of presents. The rest she’d left behind to pick up the following day. I locked them up in the church.
Clara was twenty-two, vibrant and in love with life. In love with Jerald Allen, too, who would become her husband in June. The church hall had been full of her friends, young and old. The rip of wrapping paper, laughter, and clink of forks against cake plates vibrated in the air. A true celebration. Clara wore her signature bright blue to match her sparkling eyes. Rosy-cheeked, she hugged me hard before she left. “You’re next, Delanie,” she whispered in my ear. “Mrs. Andrew Bradshaw.”

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