Wisdom's Kiss (87 page)
Authors: Catherine Gilbert Murdock
Modesty and Patience have a small but crucial part in
Wisdom's Kiss,
the always unenviable role of the guys who get bumped so the hero can step in and save the day. Or in this case the ladies-in-waiting who
barf up tainted oysters
so Trudy can step in and ... You get the point.
>
The problem is that Modesty and Patience have issues. As I reflect upon this twosome, I'm surprised I managed to finish the book at all. First was the whole business of their names. When I wrote
Princess Ben
, I wanted the female characters to have old-fashioned names, seeing as this was an old-fashioned-type fairy tale. Hence Benevolence, Prudence, Sophia, Beatrix, Hildebert...(which I later learned is a boy's name—oops). Then, as I was developing
Wisdom's Kiss,
I realized I could take this much further. Why not make it a Montagne tradition to name girls after virtues? I even named the foundress (that is, the
female founder
) of Montagne "Queen Virtue," to drive this point home. Unfortunately, it turns out that namewise most virtues are either really lame (Determination? Cooperativeness?? Autonomy???) or already commonplace (Faith, Hope, Grace). But I did my best and managed to find some decent namelike virtues such as Patience and Modesty and whatnot.
This led to the second issue, an issue I call the Conundrum of Minor Characters. Many of us, myself very much included, have trouble remembering names. This is because a person's name usually has nothing to do with the person. A baker named Baker would be easy even for me, but a policeman named Baker makes no sense. If I were to read a novel with the line "Policeman Baker arrived at the scene" and then five pages later read "Baker scowled at the suspect," I would have not a clue who this Baker character is. I would be irked. The reading spell would have been broken.
One solution to the Minor Character Conundrum is to provide readers a title: "Officer Baker scowled at the suspect." Oh, the policeman! I remember! This is why Queen Ben continually refers to "Lady Modesty" and "Lady Patience," to remind the reader that they're, you know, ladies-in-waiting. But a far, far more useful solution is to avoid names altogether. Don't say "Policeman Baker arrived at the scene" but rather "Next to arrive was a policeman sporting an enormous and utterly ridiculous mustache." Five pages later, refer to this character by image: "Officer Silly Mustache." We shall recollect at once the character to whom you refer. Hence Princess Wisdom's repeated description of her ladies-in-waiting as "Jack Sprat" and "Mrs. Sprat." The nicknames provide a visual: obviously Lady Modesty is rather plump. Just as important, we readers already know these names—they're ingrained in our brains from the childhood nursery rhyme and so are likely to stick in our consciousness as "Patience" and "Modesty" never would.
Remarkably few characters in
Wisdom's Kiss
have names, for this very reason. The Farina spy, the grouchy old lawyer, the duke's guards, the captain, the sergeant, the genealogist ... Each of these men can be clearly pictured without a name. I would argue, in fact, that the very lack of names makes envisioning easier. The reader isn't obliged to make a mental note: "his name is Petersen, don't forget..." Instead it's just "the tall one with the saggy ears," the ear detail repeated as necessary. (Don't worry, there aren't any characters in
Wisdom's Kiss
with saggy ears; the phrase is for illustration purposes only.) This strategy also allows for a bit of subterfuge about the real name of the Master of Air, which turns out to be ... Well, I won't reveal it here. Either you know it or you haven't read that far.
Other virtue-named characters in
Wisdom's Kiss:
More on the whole
lady-in-waiting thing
, including its
definition
More Commentary on Characters
>
Author's commentary on Escoffier
>
Georges Auguste Escoffier is possibly the most famous chef in history, the man who modernized French cooking and whose 1903
Le guide culinaire
cookbook remains a definitive reference work for any serious cook. How fitting it is that our Escoffier, with his near-human appetite and near-human sense, should be named for a man of matching taste (and doubtless matching arrogance). Also, "Escoffier" (es•COE•fee•ay) is great fun to say out loud.
Escoffier the cat
began life quite early in the formation of
Wisdom's Kiss.
I needed a spy, and I loved the image of a big black cat jumping into the middle of a table covered in secret papers. At that point the cat could actually read the papers as he lay on top of them, but this detail was lost in revision, and we're none the worse for it.>
Unfortunately Escoffier, like many pets in stories and children in screenplays, serves a rather utilitarian role: he promotes the plot but otherwise doesn't have much to say (as it were). (To elaborate on the "children in screenplays" issue: kids far too often operate as mouthpieces for tedious expository prose. "Mommy, I wish you didn't divorce Daddy, because I know you still love him." "Grandpa, remember that time you and I were flying kites and you saw that lady with red hair and she ran away with all your money and now you're broke?" Yeah, that's how kids normally talk ... The movie features either that, or kids who misbehave as Earthling children never would.) How could I make Escoffier a member of the team instead of just a tool pulled out when the plot needed propelling? Thus his showdown with Wilhelmina's awful dog and his defense of Tips during the sword fight; both of these show that Escoffier has a personality, not just a function. Ditto the encyclopedia entry, which hints that this cat is more than he seems.
The details of Escoffier's "union" with Nonna Ben remain vague, even to me. It took me some time indeed to combine Nonna Ben's pet with the Doppelschläferin spell, particularly given that my
original D. spell
didn't involve animals. The implication is that Escoffier and Ben, having once shared their consciousness within the cat's body, have a
residual connection
that gives Ben catlike faculties and Escoffier extrafeline intelligence. Is it this intelligence that compels Escoffier to guard Dizzy or provoke the dog? Is he linked to Ben when he comforts Trudy, or watches Trudy and Tips argue, or observes Trudy learn of her heritage? To tell you the truth, I don't know. (Hey, I only write this stuff; I don't pretend to understand it.) I will say that Escoffier is smarter than the average cat, which isn't saying much; cats don't need to be very smart. He is, as I mention
elsewhere
, based wholly and endearingly on our cat Charcoal, who is—with the exception of his dearth of magic but not his brainlessness—almost perfect.