Wilkie Collins, a contemporary and friend of Charles Dickens, constructed his plots first and then created characters who would do what the plot required.
Other authors, such as Anthony Trollope, followed the opposite procedure. They first created the characters and then developed the plot from what the characters would do.
It would seem the development of the characters first would result in richer characters and a more natural plot, and though this may often be the case, there is much to be said in favor of the opposite procedure.
The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins shows that an elaborate plot can inspire the creation of characters who are more vividly unusual than would probably be invented without the impetus of what the plot requires them to be.
The Woman in White is famous for being one of the foundational novels of the modern mystery genre. Its intricate plot has delighted readers for over a hundred years, and a few of its magnificent scenes—such as the first ghostly appearance of the woman in white—are difficult to forget.
But the chief beauty of the novel must surely be Count Fosco, the villain.
Here is an excerpt that shows the villainous Count Fosco with his pets:
He has brought with him to this house a cockatoo, two canary birds, and a whole family of white mice. He attends to all the necessities of these strange favorites himself, and he has taught the creatures to be surprisingly fond of him and familiar with him. The cockatoo, a most vicious and treacherous bird towards everyone else, absolutely seems to love him. When he lets it out of its cage, it hops onto his knee, and claws its way up his great big body, and rubs its top knot against his sallow double chin in the most caressing manner imaginable. He has only to set the doors of the canaries' cages open and to call them, and the pretty little cleverly trained creatures perch fearlessly on his hand, mount his fat outstretched fingers one by one, when he tells them to "go upstairs," and sing together as if they would burst their throats with delight when they get to the top finger. His white mice live in a little pagoda of gaily-painted wirework, designed, and made by himself. They are almost as tame as the canaries, and they are perpetually let out like the canaries. They crawl all over him, popping in and out of his waistcoat, and sitting in couples, white as snow, on his capacious shoulders.
“Ah . . .” I said to myself after reading that passage, “such a marvelously outrageous character wouldn’t have been created before the plot that requires him!”
The lesson is: the creation of a plot can lead to the creation of marvelous characters.
* Orlando Bartro is the author of Toward Two Words, a comical & surreal novel about a man who finds yet another woman he never knew, usually available at Amazon for $4.91.
