Knave or Fool?
Nov. 14th, 2014 06:59 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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deathtocapslock“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!
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Date: 2014-11-19 04:59 am (UTC)Cut for quirky misdirection about his scar that maps the London Underground.
Even if he could "do something" about the scar, he wouldn't? At this point, Dumbledore at least strongly suspects that the scar is the entry wound/attachment point for a bit of Voldemort's soul. And he wouldn't "do something" about that? Because it's useful? Um.
Okay, maybe he means exactly what Minerva probably thinks he means: that even if he could erase the visible mark on Harry's face, he wouldn't. Because that wouldn't make a difference soul-wise anyway, and it might be useful in some innocuous fashion, say as a reminder to Harry someday that he'd survived one terrible thing and could again. Such a monumental misdirection would be perfectly in character.
But seriously, knowing what Dumbledore probably knows about that scar, it's really hard not to see a double meaning on re-reading. Even if he could go back in time and warn the Potters in time, so that Harry never got the scar, he wouldn't, because it might be useful? Or maybe, even if he could remove/kill the Voldiebit and leave Harry alone in his own soul right now, he wouldn't, because it might be useful?
Useful for what? The only "useful" function of that Horcrux at that point in time is keeping Voldemort alive-ish. If he thinks that Voldemort is mostly dead, anchored only by the soul-bit in Harry('s forehead), surely he would wish he could zap it out and make Voldemort all the way dead. Wouldn't he?
Unless he already suspects multiple Horcruxes, and thinks the Harrycrux will somehow be useful against them somehow. (Already planning for Scar-O-Vision?)
Or unless keeping Voldemort alive-ish, constantly threatening to return, is useful to Dumbledore.
Probably Rowling was just writing sloppily, and Dumbledore was getting mixed up with The Author. (It's useful because it advances the story!) But it sure allows for some unsettling Watsonian interpretation.