We continue our theme, Beginnings, this week with Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl - the story of the twelve-year-old criminal mastermind! As with my previous entries, I will look at the story’s protagonist, Artemis, and how Colfer uses the novel’s introduction to coerce the audience to empathize with Artemis.
In my previous posts, I considered two fantasy novels whose introductions concluded the moment the protagonists decided to leave home and begin their quests. But Colfer drops us smack dab in the middle of his hero’s quest, and we’re not entirely sure what’s happening. As such, I’m placing the introduction’s end at page 30; at the moment we discover just what Artemis’ quest is. During these first thirty pages, Colfer generates empathy for Artemis by demonstrating his motivation, his intellectual prowess, and the extent of his anti-heroic capability.
Spoilers ahead!
Artemis Fowl isn’t your standard ‘hero’s journey’ fantasy. Conventional wisdom in fantasies places the protagonist at home or other place of comfort, to be displaced by unforeseen forces. Killing or “disappearing” a family member resonates with readers because they can imagine it happening to themselves. Artemis Fowl, contrarily, begins in the middle of the quest, no setup. Colfer deftly chooses this construction to fit his main character’s personality. Artemis runs the show, and the reader has to play catch up. Whereas in other stories external events force the reluctant hero to take up arms, Artemis controls this story and his world by executing his criminal scheme.
Family still plays a role in this story; it’s just a strange role. In Artemis Fowl, Artemis' family affects him mostly in a negative and restrictive manner. “It was Artemis the First, our subject’s father, who had thrown the family fortune into jeopardy…Artemis the Second vowed to remedy this. He would restore the family fortune.” (28-29) Here we see that familial pride drives Artemis to strike out on his quest to find fortune, but we also perceive his missing father is not a sympathetic fellow. Artemis’ bedridden mother, whom he loves, also appears in negative light. Artemis remarks, “…should she miraculously recover…it would signal the end of Artemis’ own extraordinary freedom.” (20) And indeed in future books the return of both Artemis’ father and mother bring unwanted restrictions upon the young criminal. However, in this introductory novel, Artemis is free to establish himself as a true anti-hero.
When dealing with an anti-hero, it becomes vital to clarify motivations. Anti-heroes thrive in a gray area – you never know what they will do next because their morality differs from the reader’s. An author must decide how thinly to thread the needle between the action and intention of their protagonist. Because the moral spectrum of an anti-hero is so wide, the author must choose where he or she wants their protagonist to fall. On a scale from Batman to Patrick Bateman, how evil do you want your character to be? If the audience can sympathize with the anti-hero’s motivation, they will almost always be willing to overlook nefarious behavior. And Colfer chooses carefully where to place his man.
When Colfer highlights Artemis’ capabilities, he displays both the good and the bad to demonstrate “Just how far Artemis Fowl [is] prepared to go in order to achieve his goal.” (18) Artemis is a criminal mastermind, not afraid of psychological and physical torture – he douses the fairy’s wine with holy water, and is prepared to leave her for dead if she does not reveal her secrets. But at the same time, he offers her a cure for her lost magic, and allows her to live. When his manservant Butler questions him, asking, “Why didn’t we simply keep the book and leave her to die?” Artemis replies, “A corpse is evidence, Butler. My way, the people will have no reason to be suspicious.” (16) Pragmatic, cold, calculating; we get the sense that Artemis has killed before, but we know he isn’t a mindless murderer. We also have direct evidence of Artemis’ criminality and ruthlessness to achieve his goals. So why would we like him?
Artemis embodies the essence of a fantasy. We want to be him. He exemplifies power by having all the answers—a sort of mental superman. Artemis is always one step ahead of everyone else. The first time we see him he shows off his Holmesian intelligence: “You are wearing handmade loafers, a silk shirt, and three gold signet rings. Your English has a tinge of Oxford about it, and your nails have the soft sheen of the recently manicured.” (4) Except in this story he is both Holmes and Moriarty combined. Artemis uses his talents “…to do what he [does] best – plot dastardly acts,” (30) and the audience delights in watching him outwit his foes.
As the book and the series progress, we will see Artemis make moral choices that move him towards "good", but at his core he remains what we see when we first met him: isolated, criminal, and above all brilliant. He makes decisions we couldn't make, goes places we don't dare. That's what makes him exciting, and that's what makes readers come back to him every time.