Valentines Day. Boom. Just dropping
that bombshell out there for all of you sad, lonely people too
repulsive to find another warm body willing to let you lean against
it for the 24 hours it takes not to feel like the unicorn that
couldn't find its moving buddy for the Ark. And if you're a couple,
go ahead and congratulate yourself on being candidates for
contributing to the earth's overcrowding problem, and if you're not
planning on having children any time soon, then everyone probably hates you two together anyway
and you have to reasonably assess whether you can withstand that kind
of debilitating social pressure.
Gosh, Valentine's Day. You thought it
was over (this post is so late in the day, I might as well say it's
in honour of next Valentine's
Day) but I'm raking up those painful memories again because I
want you all to feel shame about your life choices.
Not me though, because my life choices
are and have always been beyond question or reproach. And you are
all very lucky, because I am about to share with you one of those
life choices. I was like you once. Lonely. Pathetic. Unable to
hold down a good job and a stable relationship at the same time
because being a fierce career-driven lady is hard work.* But then I
found a light. A path. I started only fancying men who were
fictional.
I know what you're thinking. Fucking
genius.
A fictional man has never, let us say,
forgotten a birthday or, to give another random example that has
definitely never happened to me, squeezed your thigh and declared you
to be “not that fat”. A fictional man has never seen you walk
into a room visibly upset, ask if you're ok, then return to playing
iPhone Scrabble when you say, “Sort of, I guess” in a tone that conveys broadly the opposite and when you point this out offers the rebuttal "You said you were fine".
Yes, fictional men have the decided
advantage of being fictional. But wait. There are rules to this
thing. You can't just make them do whatever you want heedless of the
universe from whence they came and inherent traits with which they
were gifted.** You must be accepting of your fictional man's flaws.
You must love them because of their flaws, not in spite of them.
Detractors of the Fictional Man System may say that this is akin to
'real life' relationships, that one must work also at relationships
with actual breathing people, but to them I say shut up and you
smell. My way is both quicker and easier and therefore correct.
It's important to know the territory,
is what I'm saying. Each fictional man carries their own baggage
with them. To help you on the first steps to a stress-free world of
romance and talking to yourself on public transport, here are the
pros and cons of ten of the best:
The Top Ten Most Eligible Fictional
Males (from literature)***
A/N: To anyone
shouting for Rochester or Heathcliffe: was your favourite film as a
child Beauty and the Beast?
10) Satan (Paradise Lost,
John Milton).
Why? Everyone loves a rebel with
a cause, not least Jonnie Milton himself, who at several points of
Paradise Lost clearly panics and throws in some shit about original
sin and being the root of all the evil in the world to throw off any
delicate female brains that may have been affected by this
shape-shifting orator with cunning oral skills. Satan is the
thinking ladies' crumpet. He ponders. He broods. Also, have you
read the description of Adam and Eve's grown-up make-out fun
post-apple? Good times, courtesy of Satan.
Why not? Approximately halfway
through the poem, Milton realises everyone's rooting for the fallen
angel and turns him into an underwhelming snake-thing. (Calm down,
Freudians.) Also there's some minor stuff about raping his daughter
Sin to produce his son/grandson Death and Death then raping his
mother to produce hell-hounds that live inside her womb. But
everyone has baggage.
9) Draco Malfoy (Harry
Potter, J.K. Rowling).
Why? Blond. Mainly, blond. And
again, blond. Probably more of a fling than anything else but if anyone in Hogwarts is making the most of
their common room by installing a hot tub and hiring house elves as
the wizarding equivalent of monkey butlers, it is the Slytherins.
Malfoy also comes equipped with severe daddy issues, which makes him
a shoo in for this list (to new readers, I apologise; to regular
readers, you really should just expect this by now). Is willing to
commit murder for the sake of family honour or some bullshit like
that so presumably easy to manipulate. (What?) Also, blond.
Why not? Cries in bathrooms.
Requires henchmen as living security blanket. Daddy issues go hand
in hand with definite unresolved Oedipal yearnings: would probably
still have been breastfeeding at an uncomfortably late age.
8) Eros (Greek mythology).
Why? Quite literally a love god.
Forget all those fluffy little Cupids, before the Romans came along
and enacted their subtle foreign policy of killing everything and
stealing what was left, the Greek god Eros was all wings and abs. And if you get bored, he has a twin brother called Anteros who avenges slighted lovers and is the deity actually portrayed in statue form at Piccadilly Circus (Eros has been getting the credit for over a hundred years now, it's time to set the record straight. OPEN YOUR EYES. SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE.)
Why not? Lack of experience –
in the whole of Greek mythology, is only shown getting it on once,
despite being aforementioned God of Love. Will also insist on having
the lights off in case you realise the identity of your lover and his
mother tries to kill you. And also was regarded as the protector of homosexual love between men. So the takeaway here is that Greek mythology is not a great place for women.
7) Casanova (Histoire de ma
Vie, Giacomo Casanova)(yes I know he was a real guy)(I'm examining his literary persona)(shut up)
Why?
Come on now. Self-explanatory. Admittedly this is not for the lady
looking for something long-term but I bet you'd have a good time
along the way. As well as being world's first lad, he was also a
spy, conman, linguist and librarian and spent most of his life
rubbing elbows with royalty, popes, writers and musicians like
Goethe, Mozart and Voltaire (and rubbing something else with
literally all of the ladies).**** Factor in a slamming dress sense,
a preference for eloquent woman, and an ability to make money out of basically everyone,
including people who fired him, and that's a recipe for a fun weekend that you'll
only remember as occasional flashbacks.
Why
not?
Have fun with all the venereal disease. Allegedly also had a
threeway with his illigitimate daughter and her mother. (I must
apologise, this list contains a significantly higher degree of incest
than I had originally envisaged.) Also, as I said before, fidelity
was not his strong suit. That was comic understatement. He had all
the sex.
6) Peter Pan (Peter Pan,
J.M. Barrie).
Why? Has three women after him
for the duration of play/novel and, in most representations, clothes seem
to be optional. He would be terribly exciting and there would be a large number of gap year style escapades and you would definitely probably have some kind of journey of self-discovery. Also, property-owner. Peter has his own island,
replete with mermaid lagoon (which must be better than a hot tub) and
pirate ship (frankly, 'owns own pirate ship' should be a must on any
self-respecting woman's list).
Why not? Oh, where to begin. Aside from the obvious fact that liaisons with ‘The
Boy Who Never Grew Up’ have bad connotations in this day and age, Peter would be the ultimate bait-and-switch date. "Come to my magical island where we'll fly into the night together holding hands and ultimately defy death itself and you will never feel so free or young or alive and I'll tell you how you fill this empty aching hole in my life but like would you be a total doll and do the boys' laundry first? Shit, I need to pay the delivery guy, have you got a tenner?" This is a short-term option. Wendy knew it,
and you need to know it too – think of it as the best holiday
romance ever. Enjoy the mermaid lagoon and get out before he starts encouraging his friends to call you 'mum'.
5) Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein, Mary Shelley).
Why? It's easy to forget Mary Shelley was 18 when she wrote Frankenstein but I swear, somewhere in her notes is a scrap of paper that reads, “and btdubs, Victor is like totally hot.” Within the first ten pages, the manly and (I imagine) waxed-mustachioed explorer Captain Walton is waxing lyrical about his new bff Victor and the lustrous melancholy of his eyes, amongst other attractions. If you can manage to mentally strip away a few decades of Hollywood-distorted mad scientists cackling in castles, you'll find that Shelley's protagonist is a tender twenty-one years old when he stitches together a bunch of corpses and creates an abomination in the eyes of God. Plus, there's significant textual evidence that suggests Mary was basing some elements of Victor on her boo Percy Bysshe, so I think it's safe to say that in her eyes at least, Victor Frankenstein is one fine piece of grave-robbing ass. You heard it here first. Also Percy Shelley might have been a Romantic proto-douche (and there's a whole other blog post there) but his portraits can confirm that he was, indeed, totally hot.
Why not? Well, he stitches together a bunch of corpses and creates an abomination in the eyes of God for a start. Also, the whole Gothic-Romantic hero thing turns out to be something of a double edged sword because, as a direct result of his 'Fun With Cadavers' science kit, Victor spends significant portions of the novel proving his dedication to being sensitive and shit by fainting, and at the same time blaming, variously, dead authors, living authors, dead scientists, living scientists, fate, destiny, chance, his father, his mother, his best friend and, not kidding, a tree. So a) he probably wouldn't remember to do the washing up and b) when you get home and ask him to do it, he'll tell you all about how it totally wasn't his fault because someone made an offhand remark about Percy Shelley's poetry and that reminded him of sleep and he had to go and do that instead. (Meta-burn. Thank you very much.)
4) Bertie Wooster (many books, P.G. Wodehouse)
Why? Bertie Wooster is a magical human being who attracts charming happenings full of whimsy and gentle confusion into his life, and you could be a part of that. Whether making off with Aunt Dahlia's cow creamer or concealing the music hall origins of your chum's latest squeeze from the uncle upon whom he is financially dependent, your existence could only be improved by having this man around. Tell me you wouldn't want to be in a P.G. Wodehouse novel and I'll tell you your soul has withered beyond the point of redemption, you sick, sad bastard. You would get to be a member of the idle rich. Your job would be having escapades. Also Bertie is just, like, the nicest guy. Like, actually. Not in a Nice Guy way. He genuinely is a nice guy.
Why not? Here be actually-quite-terrifying-when-you-really-think-about-it-properly valets. A few women have threatened to intrude upon the domestic equilibrium enjoyed by one boy and his manservant and none were ever heard from again. And as totes adorbs as Bertie is, things might get a little wearing once you realise that you are being woken up for the hundred and twelfth day in a row by an argument between your significant other and his significant other over his polka dot spats or whatever it is now in the name of christ I'm invisible in my own home help me god please.
3) Odysseus (The Iliad, The
Odyssey, Homer). Why? Epic. Hero. Not just any epic
hero either, but a smart epic hero. Odysseus is the Batman of the
Bronxe Age: ain't no invulnerability or flying sandals here (take
that Achilles. And you,
Perseus.) Just a
really really determined dude. So if he says he's going to put those
shelves up, he's damn well going to put those shelves up, but he's
probably going to Tom Sawyer someone into doing it for him by, once
again, being really smart.
And then taking all the credit. Like smart people do. Let's not
forget either that there's a slough of goddesses, nymphs and
princesses queueing up for their turn at The Odyssey: Boardgame
Edition (there are two rules: 1) Abduct hero. 2) Bone.)
Foremost amongst these is the goddess Calypso, who keeps the Big O
(see what I did there?) on her island as a sex slave for seven
years. Got to be a reason. All I'm saying.
Why not? Man, he really
wants to get home to his wife. Have some fun by all means, but know
you're just a pitstop along the way to an epic book deal and twenty
years' worth of reunion sex. If Olympian goddesses couldn't keep
Odysseus tied down, you probably won't fare much better. He'll give
you some stuff about needing his space and being a free spirit and
before you even get a chance to turn his men into pigs again, he'll
jump ship (literally) and you'll be left looking for the next epic
hero to fix that dripping tap you never got round to.
2) Mr Darcy (Pride and
Prejudice, Jane Austen).
Why? Self-evident. The ruder
you get, the more he likes you in a tortured, brooding sort of way
that doesn't involve murdering puppies (Heathcliffe, I am looking at
you). Also a self-improving hero – Darcy walks the fine line
between sociopath-god-help-you-restraining-order (Lovelace,
Rochester, Heathcliffe again) and 'he's just shy' (literally any
rom-com based on comic misinterpretation of character) meaning that
he's genuinely the sneery hipster in the corner initially, but he
works on not saying douchey things like “your family sucks and
you're poor” and gets the girl eventually. The girl, incidentally,
is too busy repeatedly saying things like, “Wow, I am a horrible
judge of character” to fix his faults for him (Jane Eyre, you could
learn something here), so just be chill. He'll get there. Also the
whole book is basically about him trying and failing to
repress his libido.
Why not? I have to say, I don't
have much here , assuming you can get past the initial insults to your
appearance, family, manners, class, financial status and pretty
floral bonnet (probably). Maybe if you like loud music or immoderate
drinking or the drugs that all the young people use these days, then
he's not the man for you? But then again, Austen says that Lizzie
makes him more fun. Damn, she's good.
1) Hamlet (Hamlet,
William Shakespeare).
Why? The prince (sorry) of the
fictional men. Because, contrary to what I began this list by
saying, Hamlet is kind of whatever you want him to be, while also definitely being in possession of cheekbones so sharp they refract light (science). Seriously,
the Victorians even thought he might have been a woman, so if you are looking for a receptacle into which, Pygmalion-like, you may pour every quality you have ever desired in a lover, then start with the one who fundamentally embodies the pain and joy of the human condition, and also fights off some pirates.
Why not? Where do you want to
start? His in-universe track record isn't great, breaking up with
his girlfriend by stabbing her dad through a curtain, which ranks
only slightly above dumping via text. There's also some
astonishingly good (bad, I mean bad) work going on in the daddy
issues department with him being the only one on this list taking
orders from a Ghost Dad who may or may not be a fractured remnant of
his own tortured psyche. On the plus side, he loves his mother very
much. A little too much? Perhaps. Also, in brief: gets touchy when
his best friend calls him out on murdering-by-proxy two of their old
uni mates, hipster-postures about how poor people totally don't
understand art, talks during the theatre, is generally a
self-pitying, solipsistic, intellectually superior, emotionally
anguished, sexually repressed, arrogant, moody philosophy student.
And now I've totally lost my train of thought. I'm sure I was
supposed to be listing bad things.
(See also: Constantine from The
Seagull, Edmund from King
Lear, Prince Hal from Henry
IV, Holden Caulfield from The
Catcher in the Rye, any other
character that could feasibly be played by Ben Whishaw.)
(It's possible I may have a type.)
*Was in university, watching Horrible
Histories.
**If you find yourself doing this then
congratulations, you are a writer of bad fanfiction. Now burn your
laptop, you are banned from the internet.
***None of this TV or film bullshit.
Characters represented in a visual medium are played by actors and,
as we all know, actors are raging whirlpools of neurosis, insecurity
and heart-breakingly blind optimism, plus when you Wikipedia them
they're always married and at least, like, ten years older than you
thought they were.
****Imagine how disappointed he'd be
with his present-day descendents. Casanova never had to descend to
thinly-veiled homophobia and misogyny. He had books.
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