Really awful people in Dostoevsky, DeLillo and beyond have some paradoxically endearing qualities. Debut novelist Heinz Helle explains why, and recommends some of the best of the worst
A hero used to be a perfect combination of properties we strive for: beauty, strength, courage, intellect. Those days are over. I don’t know if it’s Freud’s fault or Luther’s, but for some reason perfect people don’t inspire writers any more. They frustrate us. We don’t want to be motivated to become better people. We want to be reassured that we are OK as we are.
This is why we love hateful characters in literature. Because the more unlike us they are in their behaviour, the better we feel about the way we are. And the more we can forgive them. And in the unlikely event that we share their hateful characteristics, we can still forgive ourselves. Because then we know that we are not alone in our flaws.
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