MY TOP 5 LITERARY SELF-MADE OUTSIDERS

MY TOP 5 LITERARY SELF-MADE OUTSIDERS

I wanted to fit Albrecht von Wallenstein somewhere here. But, since he is a real-life person, I felt that it was somehow unnecessary...
And Lady Eboshi was also going to be squeezed in, and so was Ellen Kurokawa, but both of these are actually animated characters...
As for the Thénardiers... Indeed, I could have crammed them in somewhere, the Baron and Baroness de Thénard. But these are two characters that fill the slot of one (being husband and wife, kindred spirits, and partners in crime). So that's the reason why I lowed them out: because I couldn't decide if Monsieur and Madame Thénardier/de Thénard should have one entry each or share an entry.

5) The master of the galley, "A House of Pomegranates", Oscar Wilde

This villainous secondary character is an ethnically Sub-Saharan captain on board a slave galley for pearl-fishing for an unknown European Crown. Already his ethnic descent somehow contradicts his ostentatious attire. And his attitude of "business above all" reflects the fact that he has made himself a name through trade. Oh yeah, and his officer crew on board consists of Sub-Saharans as well:

On a carpet the master of the galley was seated. He was black as ebony, and his turban was of crimson silk. Great earrings of silver dragged down the thick lobes of his ears, and in his hands he had a pair of ivory scales.
At last they reached a little bay, and began to take soundings. A light wind blew from the shore, and covered the deck and the great lateen sail with a fine red dust. Three Arabs mounted on wild donkeys rode out and threw spears at them. The master of the galley took a painted bow in his hand and shot one of them in the throat. He fell heavily into the surf, and his companions galloped away. A woman wrapped in a yellow veil followed slowly on a camel, looking back now and then at the dead body.
As soon as they had cast anchor and hauled down the sail, the negroes went into the hold and brought up a long rope-ladder, heavily weighted with lead. The master of the galley threw it over the side, making the ends fast to two iron stanchions.
Again and again he came up, and each time that he did so he brought with him a beautiful pearl. The master of the galley weighed them, and put them into a little bag of green leather.

Then, he came up for the last time, and the pearl that he brought with him was fairer than all the pearls of Ormuz, for it was shaped like the full moon, and whiter than the morning star. But his face was strangely pale, and as he fell upon the deck the blood gushed from his ears and nostrils. He quivered for a little, and then he was still. The negroes shrugged their shoulders, and threw the body overboard.

And the master of the galley laughed, and, reaching out, he took the pearl, and when he saw it he pressed it to his forehead and bowed. 'It shall be,' he said, 'for the sceptre of our young King,' and he made a sign to the negroes to draw up the anchor.
I felt attracted to this rather minor character because of his appearance and attire, that seem to be contradictory and establish the master of the galley as a self-made outsider. Indeed, the pearl fishers are expendable tools to him, but such is the mind of one who has gained a fortune and risen through trade, to captain a ship in the name of a Crown and nation which are not his own. The master of the galley is the one who puts Death in the heart of the pearl, and he surely still gets unscathed in the end (he is not mentioned again in the story).


4) Okonkwo, Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe

The first we learn about Okonkwo is his badass-sounding name, that he is the leader of his local community, his reputation as a warrior has spread beyond the reach of nine villages... Oh yes, he's an abusive caregiver and an abusive husband, but this is, originally for fiction, not due to strong drink (In fact, Okonkwo would never touch the stuff, and he's a teetotaler), an explosive temper, or sadism. In fact, it's due to his strict adherence to Igbo patriarchal culture and his fear of weakness, failure, and reputation loss. A tragic flaw which forces Okonkwo to be hard and to do always the right things, which will come to no good end.
The Freudian excuse given to why Okonkwo is such a hardass is also worth mentioning: his own dad Unoka, though a peaceful fellow and a lover of creative arts (mostly music), drank and gambled, and, due to such a deviance from Igbo warrior and duty culture, was an outcast in the village of Umuofia. Okonkwo fears becoming such an outcast as well, lacking social status for being thought of as weak like his own father was. This is true irony.
But then comes the second half of the novel, and here we see what happens when things fall apart for the Igbo toffs. Rule Britannia comes to Igboland, and, of course, Okonkwo is "slightly" pleased with the new religion of love and mercy, and with the new more powerful female ruler, brought over by the colonists. The result: Okonkwo, who hates both Christianity and Queen Victoria, comes face to face with the new regime, and even declares war on it, reluctant to accept that his days and those of his culture are gone...
Still, he's a more developed character than the master of the galley, but also from a novel I didn't really feel at ease with. And, while Okonkwo rushed head on against the British Empire, the higher-up characters on this list would have taken a more sensible approach...


3) Iago, Othello, William Shakespeare/Arrigo Boito

Iago was most truly made for war, born and bred in camp, at the service of various nations, presumably also baptized in fire while still a lad... A badass, badarse veteran warrior who knows no other trade, and a non-com whose greatest aspiration is to become an officer, most surely aide-de-camp to his general (another self-made outsider who didn't make the cut into this list because... though badarse as well, not as interesting as Iago). 

Along comes a young lieutenant of the new school of educated officers.

And Iago gets pissed.

"That frilly little officer
has usurped my position,

my position,

which, by one hundred well-fought battles,

I have deserved!

Such was Othello's wish...

And I remain at His Moordship's service

as ensign!"

So Iago, not only ticked off by staying a non-com, but also by the debut of this cultured younger fellow with abso-freaking-lutely no prior experience of warfare. And the end of it is that he comes up with the most convoluted and efficient ruse in world literature, IMOHO.

Discrediting the lieutenant through ethyl intoxication, portraying him as the lover of the general's wife, planting the hanky she has lost in his quarters. Everything goes as smoothly as planned. Like beating children at chess.

There's also the riddle of his motives: sheer envy and revenge? unrequited love for Othello and/or Cassio? or simply for the fun of it? Though Iago stands defeated in the end, he swears to Cassio, his rival and (!) forgiven and made Othello's successor, that he will shut up no matter how much torture is wasted on his own frame:

Demand me nothing. What you know, you know.

From this time forth I never will speak word.

There you have it. And those, mind, reader, are his last words in the whole script. Then he shuts up as he is led away, so that his motivations will remain a mystery to everyone but Shakespeare himself (who, according to my theory, played the role in the Whitehall 1604 Ur-première).

I would like to quote something more on my own view of this characters

"And we shall not forget, for better or worse, that there is Iago. Who is Iago? Things for sure: he hateloves Cassio and he is not comfortable in the company of ladies. He has his own insecurities and reasons to do what he does (what he perceives as injustice), but his mask is never broken. Some say he is a devil undercover, like Mephisto, which would be true to a certain extent... Iago is to Cassio as the Wicked Queen is to Snow White. In both stories, the innocent victim-hero is reborn after apparent death, while the antagonist is punished. We have already mentioned women's immunity to Iago's tricks, Add his mastery of disappointment as a catalyst for his victims' actions. And the way he "grants wishes": granting the wishes of the male cast when he is near (in Dokidoki Precure, most of the victims of the week, whose hearts are corrupted, are significantly male as well, the corrupter also being male, and pitted against an all-female heroine team which purifies the victims and seals the immortal corrupter away!), the wishes backfiring and shattering the lives of those who made them. Does Iago grant wishes to have his own wishes granted? Of course.
Some say he is a devil undercover, like Mephisto, which would be true to a certain extent... while I see Iago as a more or less chaotic neutral, leaning on chaotic evil character, a personification of unreason not unlike the Norse Loki, the Spanish Don Carnal, or the Lord of Misrule. Or the Devil on Tarot (arcane XV), which represents the pulsions of the id, passions, unreason beyond good and evil. The keywords are all there: "Chaos is come again". Not evil in a demonic sense, yet a tempter and a trickster who temporarily disrupts and revolutionizes the social order, before and during his own reign as de facto governor, by granting wishes at a great price... but for which reason? There is the lieutenancy mentioned... but is this actually for no reason, Iago's character being unreason (the unreason of wish-making, of intoxication, of insecurity, of paranoia, of passion...) incarnate itself? Mind that his name means "usurper", which, in a story where identity, and the loss of it, are the central themes, is the key word to it all..."
As convenient as it can be in a tragedy whose setting is liminal and provincial, there is no struggle for a crown or a throne (though there is talk about usurpers: in love, within the hierarchy, within one's own system...), but, rather, for an in another context irrelevant lieutenancy.
Still, this is a game of power, in which the rules are to win or die (no third option or middle ground), some claim it's theirs by right and that the other is a usurper, or vice versa.
There is much talk, not about being governor/commandant, but about being lieutenant to this officer. Not in charge, but next in line, accepting the current ruler's reign.
Left-tenant. Or even "love-tenant", as some Elizabethans pronounced this French loanword. There is a homoerotic innuendo about holding this position as well, for it means a certain proximity to the governor.

Iago, when shall you learn... that not every rear end can be used as a scabbard?

And Iago is ostensibly preferring the company of other men. Does he want the post for other reasons than social climbing?
I leave it to you.

No matter for which reasons Iago wants the post, he sees Cassio as a usurper. Apparently, since the former is a seasoned veteran and the latter is a learned greenhorn, Iago has as much of a founded claim as Stannis against Renly. Add the fact that, in both scenarios, the former has wound up in the shade of the latter... and wishes to step out of that shade, even if death were the only means.
We all know Stannis had a magical priestess by her side... well, Iago believes in no gods (warfare experience has surely killed his faith) but rather in himself, and this self-reliance coupled with a knack for hitting soft spots is worth more than all the clergy of the Lord of Light.
Cue the scene when he gets Cassio intoxicated, successfully tempting his rival and making him fall, then trying to restrain the furious lieutenant, then, as he sobers up and comes to, telling the ostensible truth to their commanding officer...
An emotional shock that he is unable to cope with, and even more in that state. Now he is much more than confused. What had he done to stain his blade, frighten his dear Desdemona, anger his lord, and lose his rank? Add the ensuing shock to his internal state of recovery... and we've got the fact that he is completely ruined within. Aside from socially dead. How should he return to be the one he once was?
This predicament, this identity crisis, is the catalyst for the whole storm of passion to come.
We Swedes have a nice proverb: "One person's bread is another's death", and thus we see Cassio a devastated ensign and Iago a proud lieutenant. The tables have turned 180 degrees.
And this reversal gives the scheme a nice foundation. Not only has Iago earned more trust of his general, he also has discredited his rival completely.
...then cheering up the broken young officer and giving him the suggestion that he ask Desdemona to defend his cause.
There you have it. But Iago doesn't stop at that, rather, he keeps on tricking Othello to have the governor at his every beck and call. The one who called himself "rightful" is now actually a usurper, not only claiming the lieutenancy, but also a relevant influence over his commanding officer and, thus, the de facto rulership of the whole outpost.

That is, until he is defeated by his maidservant wife and the fiancée of his rival, both of which expose his whole gambit to the light. Earlier on, at the start of the final act with all its deaths, Iago couldn't put himself together to kill Cassio. He had earlier on expressed how he hates being second to the young officer. Yet there seems to be this underlying truth that... what should Iago do when he had already done what he was trying to reach?
As a result, he even sends a surgeon to tend to the wounded Cassio, who survives except for a leg cut off (metaphor for castration?) which puts an end to his military career (and puts him back in place as an intellectual, if you refuse to accept that he will become a disabled and prosthetic-limbed badass à la Jaime Lannister). Add the fact that Iago gives an account (a true one?) of himself standing guard by the sleeping then-lieutenant, sitting on the young man's bed, as he laid a leg on Iago's lap and gave the traitor a kiss. Yes, Cassio laid that same leg over Iago's crotch and then kissed Iago. Though the young officer was dreaming about banging a woman (Desdemona, Emilia, or Bianca?) and acting out his dream.
And this same person even succeeds Othello as his heir and successor as governor, while Iago is tortured with excruciating pain (yet still managing to stoically, or masochistically, shut up). So, while Cassio does his comeback on the rulership arena... Iago, in spite of his punishment, has at least partially succeeded by killing the former governor, his lady wife, and even his own (Iago's) stupid lovesick crony and maid wife (to make her shut up 'cause she knew too much, yet he managed to off her when it was too late and she had already told the whole truth).
Only Cassio and Bianca survive, and we are left to imagine their marriage since it does not appear in the play... it ends with Othello and Desdemona, and even Emilia the all-knowing maid, dead. And Iago arrested, swearing that he will not breathe a single word about his agenda, of which everyone else (audience included) but the late Emilia was completely unaware. Which purpose did the traitor have, and for which reason? This question is left unanswered. Here, I have given my own humble opinion, which may have been Iago's real motivation or may have not.
After all, this is an unusual play, in which women act and speak their minds, in which military men are insecure and desperate figures losing power at lightning speed, in which chaos is a ladder to a strange fellow who walks about at daylight and moonlight granting wishes at the price of disappointment and regret... The keywords are all there: "Chaos is come again".


2) Tywin Lannister, ASoIaF/GoT, George R.R. Martin

Just listen to his name. Tywin. Tye-win. Like "I win." It ends with "win". The maybe most powerful person in Westeros, an excellent high officer and statesman at court as well as strategist on the war front.
Like Okonkwo, Tywin is cold, hard, austere, imposing his own will on his children and grandchildren. The reason why? His own father Tytos, though a peaceful fellow and a lover of creative arts (mostly music), drank and let others tread on him, and, due to such a deviance from Westerosi warrior and duty culture, was regarded as an outcast within the nobility of Westeros. So Tywin, like Okonkwo (who shares his Freudian excuse), has risen to power through many hardships, courtly intrigues, military engagements, the loss of his beloved wife, confrontations with his three children...
In the end, his Waterloo will come from the most unexpected sources: his prospective granddaughter-in-law, a noblewoman a decade Tywin's senior, and the misshapen imp he has always doubted to have begotten. And Tywin Lannister dies, ingloriously enough, defecating on the privy (not expelling gold, as anyone would think).
So why Tywin in second place? We get to hear a lot, both for good and for evil. Tywin had royal children of the previous dynasty killed, and their mother too. Tywin forced his favourite daughter into a loveless marriage to the new ruler of Westeros, actually a drunken and already brokenhearted lout. Ned Stark would rather entrust a child to vipers than to Tywin. But also on the flip side: a brilliant strategist, a redoubtable strategist, the saviour of the Lannister surname, a self-made outsider to be reckoned with...
A well-developed character, whose whole life we Thronies have followed from Casterly Rock, through battlefields and holdfasts, to the privy of the Red Keep. And Charles Dance adds even more to the portrait novel readers like me have received: Tywin has got Dance's face, speaks with Dance's voice, is Charles Dance in a certain sense.
Tywin Lannister. The Rodrigo Borgia of Westeros.
Risen from obscurity to national hero and legend, both famous and infamous, with his own ambition and insecurities, resurrected a dynasty. Basically, Rodrigo Borgia without the religious implications of the papacy.


1) Céline Silverlärka (née Malm), Walloon Saga (Vallonböckerna), Maj Bylock

The crowner of this list just has to be the token female, and the only one from Swedish fiction. The greatest female lead in Swedish YA fiction I have read so far.
Born in the 1630s unto happily married blacksmith parents in a Delaware outpost belonging to Sweden, a red-haired and freckled Céline grows up as an adored only child, whose antics as a feisty tomboy and desire to learn more, are rather encouraged than suppressed. She soon draws the attention of Lieutenant Erik Silverlärka, aide-de-camp to the governor of the garrison, and soon, without any opposition from Marie and Mârten Malm (Yes, as you can guess from their names, her mother is from Liège and her father is from Värmland, making her 50% Swedish 50% Wallonian, and she's fluent in both French and Swedish), but rather with their blessing, becomes the young lieutenant's bride. Erik likes Céline because she's dynamic, self-reliant, and true to herself, unlike all those hitherto known to him European court ladies with their refined manners and shallowness.
As husband and wife, Erik and Céline arrive in the 1640s at his estate birthplace, where a few frictions with Erik's conservative parents (the Count and Countess of Silverlärka would never approve of their only son and heir married to a half-Wallonian blacksmith's daughter who also happens to be a carrot-topped and freckled "hoyden") and Maud, the obviously court-born and court-bred fiancée they chose for the lieutenant, ensue. So do concerns that the Oxenstierna Regency may send Erik off to the war front in Austria or Bohemia. All of these issues are fortunately solved when the redhead becomes a maid of honour at the royal court and discovers she has got much in common with her liege lady: Christina and Céline being kindred spirits, the latter becomes the former's best friend and confidante, and maybe something more to Her Majesty, leading me to ship both of them.
Céline Malm, a half-foreign commoner who marries up to become a countess and "the Hand of the Queen" in a certain sense. A great female character who gradually grows into adulthood and makes a good use of her talents while not giving up her tomboyishness and self-reliance, staying true to herself. A girl, then a young lady, as impulsive and impatient, self-reliant, dynamic, intelligent, and little caring for her appearance as Christina Vasa herself. And I identify with her strongly, since I share her appearance, personality, and third-culture background.

A SELF-MADE BANDIT LORD

Voltaire once created a wonderful character reminiscent of Euron Greyjoy, Captain Hook, and Wallenstein. A self-made, eccentric, cynical, hard-drinking bandit lord called Arbogad:

Arriving on the frontiers, one could see a pretty strong castle, from which a party of armed bandits sallied forth. They instantly surrounded travelers and cried, "All thou hast belongs to us, and thy person is the property of our master."

The master of the castle, whose name was Arbogad, having observed from a window... 
"All that passes over my lands," said he, "belongs to me, as well as what I find upon the lands of others; but thou seemest to be men of such undaunted courage that I will exempt thee from the common law." He then conducted his guests to his castle, ordering his men to treat him well; and in the evening Arbogad supped with them.

The lord of the castle was one of those people who are commonly called robbers; but he now and then performed some good actions amid a multitude of bad ones. He robbed with a furious rapacity, and granted favors with great generosity; he was intrepid in action; affable in company; a debauchee at table, but gay in debauchery; and particularly remarkable for his frank and open behaviour. 

"I advise thee to enroll thy name in my catalogue; thou canst not do better; this is not a bad trade; and thou mayest one day become what I am at present."

"May I take the liberty of asking thee, how long thou hast followed this noble profession?"

"From my most tender youth," replied the lord. "I was a servant to a pretty good-natured master, but could not endure the hardships of my situation. I was vexed to find that fate had given me no share of the earth, which equally belongs to everyone. I imparted the cause of my uneasiness to an old sage, who said to me: 'My son, do not despair; there was once a grain of sand that lamented that it was no more than a neglected grain in the desert; at the end of a few years it became a diamond; and is now the brightest ornament in the crown of the King.' This discourse made a deep impression on my mind. I was the grain of sand, and I resolved to become the diamond. I began by stealing two horses; I soon got a party of companions; I put myself in a condition to rob small caravans; and thus, by degrees, I destroyed the difference which had formerly subsisted between me and other men. I had my share of the good things of this world; and was even recompensed with usury for the hardships I had suffered. I was greatly respected, and became the captain of a band of robbers. I seized this castle by force. The governor of this province had a mind to dispossess me of it; but I was too rich to have any thing to fear. I gave the Governor a handsome present, a nice sum of money, by which means I preserved my castle and increased my possessions. He even appointed me treasurer of the tributes which the other province across the frontier pays to the king of kings. I perform my office of receiver with great punctuality; but take the freedom to dispense with that of paymaster.

"The Church sent hither a pretty crony in the name of the King, to have me strangled. This man arrived with his orders: I was apprised of all; I caused to be strangled in his presence the four persons he had brought with him to draw the noose; after which I asked him how much his commission of strangling me might be worth. He replied, that his fees would amount to about three hundred pieces of gold. I then convinced him that he might gain more by staying with me. I made him an inferior robber; and he is now one of my best and richest officers. If thou wilt take my advice thy success may be equal to his; never was there a better season for plunder, since the King is killed, and all the realm thrown into confusion."

"I know not," replied Arbogad. "All I know is, that His Majesty lost his senses and was killed; that all the empire is desolated; that there are some fine strokes to be struck yet; and that, for my own part, I have struck some that are admirable."

"I have heard something of a prince of Hircania; if the Queen was not killed in the tumult, she is probably one of his concubines; but I am much fonder of booty than news. I have taken several women in my excursions; but I keep none of them. I sell them at a high price, when they are beautiful, without inquiring who they are. In commodities of this kind rank makes no difference, and a queen that is ugly will never find a merchant. Perhaps I may have sold her; perhaps she is dead; but, be it as it will, it is of little consequence to me, and I should imagine of as little to thee." So saying he drank a large draught which threw all his ideas into such confusion that one could obtain no further information.

Arbogad continued drinking; told stories; constantly repeated that he was the happiest man in the world...  At last the soporiferous fumes of the wine lulled him into a gentle repose.

The empire is rent in pieces; and this robber is happy. O fortune! O destiny! A robber is happy...

all those met in the castle; but they were all busy, and one received no answer. During the night they had made a new capture, and they were now employed in dividing the spoils, in this hurry and confusion.

at the castle of the robber Arbogad. 

The captive Queen also mentions Arbogad: 

"As I approached the frontiers, a famous robber, named Arbogad, seized me and sold me to some merchants, who brought me to this castle, where Lord Ogul resides. He bought me without knowing who I was. He is a voluptuary, ambitious of nothing but good living, and thinks that God sent him into the world for no other purpose than to sit at table. He is so extremely corpulent that he is always in danger of suffocation. His physician, who has but little credit with him when he has a good digestion, governs him with a despotic sway when he has eaten too much."

An analysis of Arbogad says:
les bontés d'un brigand cynique
Quelques personnages échappent un peu au cliché. Du moins ont-ils une vie résumable et quelques traits singuliers. Il s'agit surtout du brigand Arbogad, homme sans scrupule et sympathique, plus ambigu et plus original que tous les autres. Le bandit expérimente à l'envers un destin: sa malhonnêteté lui a donné le bonheur.
aspect du bonheur: celui qui procurent les biens de ce monde, amassés par brigandage
des crapules vivent sans scrupule ni remords, heureux et craints (Arbogad)
le sort réservé par le brigand Arbogad à ses autres prisonniers
FANATISME:
À cet aveuglement nocif, il faut opposer la sagesse des hommes du concret (Arbogad)
JUSTICE: Cette insistance est une dénonciation du règne de la force.