Knave or Fool?
Nov. 14th, 2014 06:59 pm“Tell me honestly . . . do you think me most a knave or a fool ?’” asked John Willoughby of Miss Dashwood, and I think it’s time we addressed that question directly with regards to our friend and mentor Albus.
Just because I love Jane Austen (and so, allegedly, does Rowling), here are two quotes in which a heroine is trying to figure out the true nature of a man of her acquaintance.
First, Lizzie Bennett abour Willoughby:
“As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. “ (Pride & Prejudice)
Second, Anne Elliott about her cousin:
“Though they had now been acquainted a month, she could not be satisfied that she really knew his character. That he … talked well, professed good opinions, seemed to judge properly and as a man of principle, this was all clear enough. He certainly knew what was right, nor could she fix on any one article of moral duty evidently transgressed; but yet she would have been afraid to answer for his conduct. She distrusted the past, if not the present…. The names which he occasionally dropt of former associates, the allusions to former practices and pursuits, suggested suspicions not favourable of what he had been. She saw that … that there had been a period of his life (and probably not a short one) when he had been, at least, careless in all serious matters; and, though he might now think very differently, who could answer for the true sentiments of a clever, cautious man, grown old enough to appreciate a fair character? How could it ever be ascertained that his mind was truly cleansed?
“Mr. Elliot was rational, discreet, polished, but he was not open….” (Persuasion)
(“Not open” as an indictment!—chokes on tea….)
So. Is our friend Albus in truth a heartless, even soulless villain like Tom, with the primary difference being that unlike Tom, Albus was “a clever, cautious man grown old enough to appreciate a fair character”?
Or can we find "some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence," that might rescue Albus from the attacks of marionros, oneandthetruth, the_bitter_word, and, er, me, among others; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which we might endeavour to class what JKR has depicted as the idleness and vice of many years continuance?
I seriously don’t know the answer here. I look forward to the discussion.
I’ll start the ball rolling by saying that I see two things (and two only) that I don’t see how to explain by the “knave” theory.
One is Albus’s giving up both Gellert and the pursuit of world domination after his sister’s death. Why, unless continuing to pursue that shared dream had become impossible to reconcile with his own image of himself as a decent (ish) man? Even if he shook off Gellert only in disgust for Gellert's having abandoned him to the mess of hushing up their mutual murder, why abandon his grandiose dreams if he hadn’t had a change of heart—and therefore, a heart to change?
The second is the Birdbath of Doom. What was Albus sniveling about after drinking Tom’s potion, if he wasn’t feeling remorse or something like it?
Can anyone else find any irreducible attestations to virtue in his behavior, or conversely, unarguable evidence of his villainy?
I look forward to your responses!
Just because I love Jane Austen (and so, allegedly, does Rowling), here are two quotes in which a heroine is trying to figure out the true nature of a man of her acquaintance.
First, Lizzie Bennett abour Willoughby:
“As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. “ (Pride & Prejudice)
Second, Anne Elliott about her cousin:
“Though they had now been acquainted a month, she could not be satisfied that she really knew his character. That he … talked well, professed good opinions, seemed to judge properly and as a man of principle, this was all clear enough. He certainly knew what was right, nor could she fix on any one article of moral duty evidently transgressed; but yet she would have been afraid to answer for his conduct. She distrusted the past, if not the present…. The names which he occasionally dropt of former associates, the allusions to former practices and pursuits, suggested suspicions not favourable of what he had been. She saw that … that there had been a period of his life (and probably not a short one) when he had been, at least, careless in all serious matters; and, though he might now think very differently, who could answer for the true sentiments of a clever, cautious man, grown old enough to appreciate a fair character? How could it ever be ascertained that his mind was truly cleansed?
“Mr. Elliot was rational, discreet, polished, but he was not open….” (Persuasion)
(“Not open” as an indictment!—chokes on tea….)
So. Is our friend Albus in truth a heartless, even soulless villain like Tom, with the primary difference being that unlike Tom, Albus was “a clever, cautious man grown old enough to appreciate a fair character”?
Or can we find "some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence," that might rescue Albus from the attacks of marionros, oneandthetruth, the_bitter_word, and, er, me, among others; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which we might endeavour to class what JKR has depicted as the idleness and vice of many years continuance?
I seriously don’t know the answer here. I look forward to the discussion.
I’ll start the ball rolling by saying that I see two things (and two only) that I don’t see how to explain by the “knave” theory.
One is Albus’s giving up both Gellert and the pursuit of world domination after his sister’s death. Why, unless continuing to pursue that shared dream had become impossible to reconcile with his own image of himself as a decent (ish) man? Even if he shook off Gellert only in disgust for Gellert's having abandoned him to the mess of hushing up their mutual murder, why abandon his grandiose dreams if he hadn’t had a change of heart—and therefore, a heart to change?
The second is the Birdbath of Doom. What was Albus sniveling about after drinking Tom’s potion, if he wasn’t feeling remorse or something like it?
Can anyone else find any irreducible attestations to virtue in his behavior, or conversely, unarguable evidence of his villainy?
I look forward to your responses!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-15 10:11 pm (UTC)Dumbledore is charming and says all the right things. But what does he do that shows he cares?
no subject
Date: 2014-11-18 04:12 am (UTC)For instance: he might believe that giants are being unfairly pushed into too small a territory. But he makes no effort to speak out against stereotypes of giants or stealing giants' land or to have any communication whatsoever with the giant community until suddenly it looks like Voldemort might recruit them to his side. Then he hustles to put together a half-assed diplomatic mission in hopes of thwarting Voldemort's efforts. (Gee, might have been a good idea to do that during the years Voldemort was out of commission so that the giants would be solidly anti-Voldemort if he ever did return... long-term planning, what's that?)
He might believe werewolves are unfairly stigmatized, and that they ought to be supported with medication to alleviate their symptoms and safe and secure places to stay during transformation. He does exactly nothing for the cause of werewolves in general. He does allow young Remus Lupin into Hogwarts--in 1971, right when Voldemort's rise is getting serious and is presumably out recruiting dark creatures to his side. Let the werewolf kid come to Hogwarts and develop loyalty to the generous Dumbledore instead! After graduation, Lupin can go hang for all Dumbledore cares--until the summer Sirius Black escapes and suddenly he's just the man for that job opening. (Where Dumbledore can keep an eye on him and see if Black tries to contact him, either as an ally or as a secondary target.) Then he's handy as a temporary hideout for Sirius, and then as a spy/recruiter.
Maybe he cares for the plight of mistreated house-elves and supports greater elf freedoms. He isn't averse to paying Dobby and letting Dobby back-talk him. (Though Dobby is very open about being extremely devoted to the Great Harry Potter. Having a fanboy/voluntary servant on hand to guard and aid his Chosen Sacrificial One until the right time sounds like a service worth paying for.) The Hogwarts elves appear to be generally well treated. On the other hand, we have no evidence that he ever attempted to research whether house-elf binding has been imposed by wizards, or at least twisted to their purposes, never mind counteracting that for the Hogwarts elves. He never says anything in public against abusing elves. His advice to Harry about Kreacher is practical war considerations--can't let him get free with valuable intelligence, and don't mistreat him because he might turn on you.
Muggles? Well, he's against harming them for sport, at least in theory. (Teaching them a lesson is totally different.) He thinks one can gain useful information from their newspapers sometimes. He isn't agitating for wizards to openly rule Muggles these days. He keeps Muggle Studies as a subject. He doesn't actually hang out with any Muggles, or consult them on issues that might affect them, or encourage wizards to get familiar with Muggle culture. He won't even deign to dress in ordinary Muggle clothing when he's trying to blend in (orphanage visit, plum velvet--come on, Mr. Crouch can manage to dress Muggle and he's a Pureblood!).
He at least claims to know a lot of what goes on at the school, and he allows rampant bullying for decades. He tells Tom back in 1937 that thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts, and we know that Luna's roommates steal her stuff all year, every year in the 1990s, and that's one of the mildest, kindest examples. Under his guidance, his teachers find the idea of transfiguring students into animals and slamming them against stone floors mildly shocking but deserving of nothing more than a warning not to do it again.
He might be the one who disallowed whippings as punishment, however. That's something.
So... whatever he feels in his heart of hearts, what motivates Albus to do something is usually if it opposes Voldemort somehow. Magical species mistreated? That's a shame. Lemon drop? Voldemort might use this fact to recruit? Oops, maybe I should try talking to them first!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-19 12:08 am (UTC)