Toughness as a Character Trait
As I mentioned in my post a few days ago, I have been wallowing in memories of my time in the Harry Potter fandom. And, once again, I have come across an old draft of mine that I never finished and never posted.
This one is from the period between Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows (30 Dec 2005, to be precise) when the writing and character of Ginny Weasley, and the romance between Ginny and Harry, were much-discussed in the fandom at large. J.K. Rowling described Ginny as "tough," and I was writing an essay agreeing with the Most Worshipful One that this quality is indeed paramount for anyone who would be romantically involved with that bravest and most shout-y of heroes, Harry Potter.
I didn't end up actually writing that part, because it was going to be "the final, the closing scene" and of course now we, -1- all know that Harry's romance with Ginny was indeed lasting (at least through 2017) and, -2- have long since finalized our own opinions about whether that marriage was suitable or would be happy--though now that the play "The Cursed Child" is coming out, we may be prompted to revisit those opinions!
That prospect isn't enough to motivate me to actually finish this essay, but I would like to post it publicly anyway. I hope someone may get some pleasure from it.
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Lately I've been thinking about J.K. Rowling's description of Ginny Weasley as a love interest for Harry in the Mugglenet/TLC interview:
Well, no, not really, because the plan was, which I really hope I fulfilled, is that the reader, like Harry, would gradually discover Ginny as pretty much the ideal girl for Harry. She's tough, not in an unpleasant way, but she's gutsy. He needs to be with someone who can stand the demands of being with Harry Potter, because he's a scary boyfriend in a lot of ways. He's a marked man.
I find it interesting that the very first attribute Rowling lists as an example of why Ginny is ideal for Harry is that she's tough. "Toughness" -- and the lack thereof -- is something that I tend to focus on as an attribute of fictional characters, and I definitely agree with JKR in describing Ginny in that way. I have long thought of Ginny as tough, but especially since OotP. I also suspect that a lot of readers respond negatively to this aspect of her character.
What does it mean to be tough? Well, I don't know what it means to Rowling and I'm not going to go rooting around in dictionaries, but here's what it means to me, in relation to fictional characters:
First, it implies a certain measure of aggressiveness, or at least assertiveness. If a person is tough, you expect them at the very least to be able to stand up for their own rights and possibly to be able to trespass on the rights of others. A tough person can dish it out.
Second, a tough person is resilient and hard to injure. If they can dish it out, they can also take it. You expect them to be undaunted by trouble, criticism, injuries, danger, and disappointment, to quickly regain their equilibrium, or not to lose it in the first place. They inspire phrases like "bounce right back" and "thick-skinned" and "water off a duck's back."
Toughness comes in several forms. You can be physically tough, mentally tough, or emotionally tough. I would also argue -- very strongly argue -- that toughness is a morally neutral quality. On the positive side, toughness is associated with courage. Toughness can lead people to be independent, self-reliant, and stoic. On the negative side, toughness is associated with insensitivity. Being tough can make one impatient of or oblivious to other people's more sensitive natures. Either way, toughness is pretty much an inborn trait and there's no sense being proud or ashamed of it. Like other traits such as charm, intelligence, beauty, talent, etc., the moral issue related to toughness is not how much you have of it, but how you use it, and to what ends.
GINNY'S TOUGHNESS
From her immediate clarification "not in an unpleasant way," we can guess that Rowling was referring to defensive rather than offensive toughness -- that she meant Ginny is resilient and hard to injure (this is reinforced by her going on to talk about her needing to "stand the demands" of having Harry as a boyfriend). I first suspected Ginny had this quality at the end of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets when I read this:
Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.
Being "perfectly happy" (at least to outward appearances) after the traumatic experiences Ginny underwent in Book 2 is evidence of extreme resiliency -- both emotional toughness and probably physical toughness as well. At that time, any reader who wondered as I did how Ginny might have bounced back so quickly could only speculate. My speculations included hypothesizing that she was the type of person who expressed her emotions rather than bottling them up (which in my experience helps you work through them faster), that she might have had support from her parents and possibly Dumbledore, that she was blessed with a buoyant spirit able to see the humor in even the most dreadful things, and that her upbringing and family life had given her a strong self-image that protected her from excesses of guilt and self-recrimination. Whatever the reason, I gathered a strong impression of the youngest Weasley's resilience.
The next couple of books give us more evidence of Ginny's "toughness" -- mostly by comparison to Ron. Ron is insecure about his family's poverty, but Ginny seems to handle it better. We never see her complaining, and we see her unconcernedly mending her second-hand books with Spellotape. Ron has a big public melt-down about the events of the Yule Ball, but Ginny handles the whole affair calmly despite being a year younger. She dances with her date (Ron does not) and she even comforts Ron after he embarrasses himself by asking Fleur. It appeared to me that Ginny's response to the classic teenaged pitfalls of romance and lack of funds more closely resemble the cheerful insouciance of Fred and George than the touchy sensitivity of Percy and Ron.
But Book 5 was the book when, finally, "the Ginny was brought." We got to know the real Ginny in this book because, as we find out in chapter 16, she has given up her crush on Harry and started to date a different boy, Michael Corner:
"So that's why she talks now?" he asked Hermione. "She never used to talk in front of me."
"Exactly," said Hermione.
The very first time we see Ginny "talk in front of" Harry in Book 5 is the scene where I became quite certain that Ginny was tough. In chapter four, CAPSLOCK!Harry yells at Ron and Hermione, much to their dismay:
Ron was standing there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for anything to say, while Hermione looked on the verge of tears.
However, when Fred and George enter the room, their reaction is quite different:
"Hello, Harry," said George, beaming at him. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."
"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."
Fred's and George's nonchalance in the face of Harry's shouting is a particular type of emotional toughness -- the ability to remain calm and good-tempered when someone is making a loud, dramatic scene. I was reminded just the other day that I don't have this kind of toughness when I turned the corner of an aisle in the grocery store and came upon a woman, apparently mentally ill, who was stomping around, banging her basket into the floor and the glass display doors, and screaming at the top of her lungs at a man only she could see, accusing him of blackmail, saying he wouldn't get away with it, etc.
I have to admit that my heart beat faster, my palms sweated, and I felt distinctly uncomfortable and vaguely guilty as long as I remained near her. I found it an unpleasant, stressful experience, and not just because I was concerned for her and worried about whether she was getting the help she needs. Being around that kind of behavior is inherently unpleasant for most of us, whether the person is yelling at us or not. And, for most of us, it is even more stressful if we are the person getting yelled at, especially if (like Ron and Hermione in this scene) we feel we might deserve it.
But some fortunate people are tougher than I am and are unfazed by such displays. We already knew, long before Book 5, that Fred and George had this quality -- it is one of their most notable characteristics. We now find out that Ginny has it too:
The door opened and a long mane of red hair appeared.
"Oh hello, Harry!" said Ron's younger sister, Ginny, brightly. "I thought I heard your voice."
Turning to Fred and George she said, "It's no go with the Extendable Ears, she's gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."
Ginny's entry is patterned after Fred's and George's. Like them, she mentions Harry's screaming (though, unlike them, she doesn't tease him about it). Like them, her mood is happy despite Harry's foul mood. And like them, she immediately moves on to another subject. It seemed to me that Ginny's entrance deliberately echoed Fred's and George's -- that Rowling was making a point of showing that Ginny shares this trait with them.
The rest of Book 5 reinforces this impression of Ginny's toughness. We get direct evidence of it in scenes where she speaks "coolly" to an angry Harry, thoroughly covered by this admirable essay by psychic_serpent. Again, Ginny's toughness is constrasted to Ron's sensitivity. For instance:
"How're you feeling?" asked Hermione.
"Fine," said Harry stiffly.
"Oh, don't lie, Harry," she said impatiently. "Ron and Ginny say you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's."
"They do, do they?" said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed.
But the most striking contrast of Ginny's toughness to Ron's sensitivity is in the area of Quidditch. Ron has performance anxiety and performs erratically; Ginny -- even though she is replacing a legendary Seeker, even though she is a midseason replacement with far less practice time than Ron had, even though the song about Weasleys being "born in a bin" is just as applicable to her as it is to Ron -- has no problems. When Ron makes the team, Angelina shares her concerns about him with Harry; when Ginny makes the team, Angelina tells Harry "she's pretty good, actually." Ginny is mentally tough enough to snatch the Snitch from right under the Hufflepuff Seeker's nose, and emotionally tough enough to shrug and say "I was lucky" when Harry compliments her for it. Compare this to Ron's erratic performance and his wild elation when he actually performs well. There is no question that Ginny (like the twins) is far tougher about Quidditch than Ron is.
Why did Rowling make Ginny so tough? Is it only to make her Harry's "ideal girl," as she said (and why, exactly, does Harry's girlfriend need to be so tough?), or is there another reason? If so, what? I will attempt to answer those questions eventually, but right now I want to wander off on a disquisition about why I'm so fascinated with tough characters in books. If you, as Elizabeth said to Darcy, never read the same, or not with the same feelings, you'll probably want to skip down to the next section, only reading the bold-face type.
TOUGH CHARACTERS I HAVE KNOWN
I first got interested in "tough" characters during my Georgette Heyer phase (which has lasted approximately thirty years so far). Heyer is obviously interested in this personality trait and often specifically notes how easily her characters can bear loud scenes, embarrassment, and verbal conflict. Most (but not all) of her heroes have exceptional social toughness. This gives them the calm sangfroid so essential to success as a Regency beau -- the behavior so brilliantly described by Wodehouse's Bertie Wooster in Right Ho, Jeeves:
I remember reading in one of those historical novels once about a chap--a buck he would have been, no doubt, or a macaroni or some such bird as that--who, when people said the wrong thing, merely laughed down from lazy eyelids and flicked a speck of dust from the irreproachable Mechlin lace at his wrists.
Heyer's heroines can be anywhere on the scale from the irrepressible Sophy in The Grand Sophy to the gentle, timid Harriet in The Foundling. My point, though, is that Heyer tells us how her characters stand on this scale because, in the social skirmishing of the comedies of manners she writes, it will be essential to how their plots will play out. In The Grand Sophy, Sophy's fearless aplomb and utter lack of social shame is the plot -- it is her main tool in managing and manipulating everyone about her, always for the kindest reasons and with the best of results. Here is how she explains it herself:
"Very bad business," said Mr. Wychbold. "Nothing to be done, though."
"That," said Sophy severely, "is what people always say when they are too lazy, or perhaps too timorous, to make a push to be helpful! I have a great many faults, but I am not lazy, and I am not timorous, though that, I know, is not a virtue, for I was born without any nerves at all, my father tells me, and almost no sensibility."
Heyer stresses the inborn nature of Sophy's toughness.
Similarly, in Heyer's Sylvester, it is the heroine's lack of toughness that sets the plot in motion; she runs away from home because she doesn't have the fortitude to defy her overbearing stepmother. In this case, the heroine Phoebe is physically tough but emotionally sensitive:
"... Even if I had the courage to disobey her only think what misery I should be obliged to endure! And don't tell me not to regard it, because to be in disgrace for weeks and weeks, as I would be, so sinks my spirits that I can't even write! I know it's idiotish of me, but I can't overcome my dread of being in her black books! I feel as if I were withering!"
He had too often seen her made ill by unkindness to think her words over-fanciful. It was strange that a girl so physically intrepid should have so much sensibility. In his own phrase, he knew her for a right one; but he knew also that in a censorious atmosphere her spirits were swiftly overpowered, none of her struggles to support them alleviating the oppression which transformed her from the neck-or-nothing girl whom no oxer could daunt to the shrinking miss whose demeanor was as meek as her conversation was insipid.
Again, Phoebe was simply born this way, and it is neither a moral virtue nor a moral failing for her to be emotionally sensitive. But her internal trait of emotional sensitivity limits her options and affects the choices she makes, probably even more than do external factors such as her sex, age, social position, and financial resources.
In Heyer's fictional world -- a comedic society full of shrill harridans, ranting blowhards, pompous bores, and censorious gossips -- being emotionally tough is an enormous advantage in getting what you want. At the minimum, it will allow you to "stand the guff," hanging tough as you resist being pushed into an unwanted marriage or profession, ignore the demands of genteel blackmailers and importunate supplicants, and withstand the embarrassments of unpleasant relatives, unfashionable clothing, badly-behaved pets, or whatever the author has devised to torment you. At the best, it will give you power over others. Heyer's emotionally toughest characters are classic Tricksters -- manipulative con-men and -women like Sophy whose control of their own emotions gives them the power to play with the emotions of others.
Some of these emotionally tough manipulators are heroes and heroines -- Sophy in The Grand Sophy, Hugo Darracott in The Unknown Ajax, Nicholas Beauvallet in Beauvallet. Sometimes they are secondary characters -- the heroine's father in The Masqueraders, the hero's father in Devil's Cub, the enterprising ingenue in Sprig Muslin. At other times, they are entertaining villains or rascals -- Mr. Liversedge in The Foundling, Mr. Steane in Charity Girl, Cedric Brandon in The Corinthian.
These tricky characters vary a great deal in intelligence, ambitiousness, and moral character, but they all have the following in common:
However, some of Wodehouse's men are emotionally tough. Of these, some are mere blustering bullies like Roderick Spode or hardy hearty blokes like Tuppy Glossop. But some are manipulative tricksters: Jeeves is one, of course, but the preeminent examples of the type are the incorrigible Stanley Featherstonehough Ukridge, the shameless Gally Threepwood, and the irrepressible Ronald/Rupert Psmith. These characters can face enraged business magnates with smiling courtesy, cheerfully admit to the most egregious behavior and shameful motives, calmly propose to women they've barely met, purloin valuables with split-second timing, and impersonate servants or famous authors with casual aplomb. Their emotional toughness (along with ambitious, agile brains) gives them mastery of the plot -- almost like authors within their own stories.
I'm going on and on about manipulative con-man characters here not because all emotionally tough characters are like that, not even because this kind of person is particularly prominent among emotionally tough characters in Heyer's and Wodehouse's work, but mostly because I really, really like them. Many of my favorite characters -- Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean, Dr. House of House, John Tregarth from Elizabeth Peters' Vicky Bliss series, David Addison of Moonlighting -- are variations of this type: shameless, impossible to snub, utterly impervious to public opinion, and ruthlessly manipulating those around them to their own ends. Their effrontery is what makes them the wonderful characters they are... well, along with intelligence, quick wits, great sense of humor, extreme hawtness, etc. But the effrontery is very important too!
WHY I LOVE TOUGH CHARACTERS
Besides the fact that I dearly love the plot complications and machinations that only an emotionally tough master manipulator can create, emotionally tough characters give me a thrill because of the simple lesson they teach: you don't have to let other people make you feel bad. I can't learn this lesson to the point of actually emulating them. I writhe in embarrassment in humiliating situations, let myself be bothered and flustered by other people's opinions of me, flinch and sweat if someone is crying or screaming or throwing things, feel guilty and nervous if I lie, and helplessly respond to events rather than cleverly manipulating everyone around me.
But these characters show me that life doesn't have to be like that. If I had been lucky enough to have been born like Sophy or Psmith, with a tough hide and no nerves at all, how much fun I could have had! For a little while, as I watch or read, I can identify with them and experience their success vicariously. And maybe, by observing them and laughing at their exploits and admiring their audacity, I can absorb just a little of that toughness for myself.
But how does all this relate to the Harry Potter series? How, in particular, does it relate to Ginny Weasley? I will elucidate...
TOUGH CHARACTERS IN THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS
When I think of tough characters in relation to Harry Potter, two names leap out at me -- Fred and George Weasley. These guys are physically tough ("a couple of human Bludgers") and mentally tough. But, most of all, they are emotionally tough in exactly the manipulative fashion I have been talking about. They are archtypal Tricksters. They deliberately make scenes (the fireworks, the swamp) to rile up others while remaining cheerfully calm themselves:
"So!" said Umbridge triumphantly. Harry realized she was standing just a few stairs in front of him, once more looking down upon her prey.
"So - you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.
Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.
"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving the piece of parchment Harry had just seen him take from her desk. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... oh, let me do it now..."
"Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are."
He turned to his twin.
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
In fact, they actively enjoy loud scenes:
But at that precise moment there was an explosion of sound from downstairs that rendered Extendable Ears quite unnecessary. All of them could hear exactly what Mrs. Weasley was shouting at the top of her voice.
"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"
"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," said Fred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice to permeate the room better, "it makes such a nice change."
"- COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-"
"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," said George, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours..."
They are seemingly immune to embarrassment, taking events like the two of them singing the school song alone long after everyone else had finished, receiving only three OWLs each, Fred's wild dancing with Angelina or the two of them being given beards after crossing Dumbledore's Age Line completely in stride:
They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.
They are also bold-faced and successful liars, so unconcerned by the stress of saying that which is not that they do it casually, even if they are unlikely to be believed:
"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred.
Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.
"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch-"
Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.
"Just my little joke, Neville...."
...
Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.
"Oh - sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot - it was the custard-" creams we hexed-"
So Fred and George Weasley are pretty much perfect representatives of the socially-tough manipulative characters who have enlivened many a story for me. They're the only characters in the Harry Potter series, besides possibly Peeves, whom I would call full-fledged archtypal Tricksters. But they aren't the only characters in the series who are socially and emotionally tough.
One character for whom "toughness" is almost his entire character description is Rufus Scrimgeour:
There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness; the Prime Minister thought he understood why the Wizarding community preferred Scrimgeour to Fudge as a leader in these dangerous times.
Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to
Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety.
He had, Harry knew, been Head of the Auror office; he looked tough and battle-scarred, very different from portly Fudge in his bowler hat.
Fudge's security wizard Dawlish is also described mainly as "tough." We don't see enough of these two characters, however, to be sure that they have the particular quality of social toughness -- the words could be sufficiently warranted by the physical and mental toughness that has made them successful Aurors.
A character we do know is emotionally as well as physically and mentally tough is Mad-Eye Moody. We see that in the scene where he is calmly unmoved by the blustering of Vernon Dursley (not exactly a shrinking lily himself):
Uncle Vernon swelled ominously. His sense of outrage seemed to outweigh even his fear of this bunch of oddballs.
"Are you threatening me, sir?" he said, so loudly that passers-by actually turned to stare.
"Yes, I am," said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.
"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" barked Uncle Vernon.
"Well..." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backwards in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley.
"Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley."
He turned away from Uncle Vernon to survey Harry.
"So, Potter... give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along..."
Moody never lets embarrassment or concern for what others might think of him interfere with his constant vigilance. No wonder Fred and George pronounce him (or, at least, his impersonator) "beyond cool."
I'm probably forgetting some, but there are many other characters in the series I suspect might be emotionally or socially tough. Nymphadora Tonks, Angelina Johnson, Dudley's Aunt Marge, Vernon Dursley to a large extent, Tom Riddle probably, Rita Skeeter definitely.
But the one who stands out the most for me is Albus Dumbledore.
[I can't believe I stopped just as I was about to discuss my favorite character!]
MORAL IMPLICATIONS OF TOUGHNESS
PLOT IMPLICATIONS OF TOUGHNESS
ROMANTIC IMPLICATIONS OF TOUGHNESS
WHEREFORE GINNY?
I leave the writing of the last four sections as an exercise for the reader. :p
This one is from the period between Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows (30 Dec 2005, to be precise) when the writing and character of Ginny Weasley, and the romance between Ginny and Harry, were much-discussed in the fandom at large. J.K. Rowling described Ginny as "tough," and I was writing an essay agreeing with the Most Worshipful One that this quality is indeed paramount for anyone who would be romantically involved with that bravest and most shout-y of heroes, Harry Potter.
I didn't end up actually writing that part, because it was going to be "the final, the closing scene" and of course now we, -1- all know that Harry's romance with Ginny was indeed lasting (at least through 2017) and, -2- have long since finalized our own opinions about whether that marriage was suitable or would be happy--though now that the play "The Cursed Child" is coming out, we may be prompted to revisit those opinions!
That prospect isn't enough to motivate me to actually finish this essay, but I would like to post it publicly anyway. I hope someone may get some pleasure from it.
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Lately I've been thinking about J.K. Rowling's description of Ginny Weasley as a love interest for Harry in the Mugglenet/TLC interview:
Well, no, not really, because the plan was, which I really hope I fulfilled, is that the reader, like Harry, would gradually discover Ginny as pretty much the ideal girl for Harry. She's tough, not in an unpleasant way, but she's gutsy. He needs to be with someone who can stand the demands of being with Harry Potter, because he's a scary boyfriend in a lot of ways. He's a marked man.
I find it interesting that the very first attribute Rowling lists as an example of why Ginny is ideal for Harry is that she's tough. "Toughness" -- and the lack thereof -- is something that I tend to focus on as an attribute of fictional characters, and I definitely agree with JKR in describing Ginny in that way. I have long thought of Ginny as tough, but especially since OotP. I also suspect that a lot of readers respond negatively to this aspect of her character.
What does it mean to be tough? Well, I don't know what it means to Rowling and I'm not going to go rooting around in dictionaries, but here's what it means to me, in relation to fictional characters:
First, it implies a certain measure of aggressiveness, or at least assertiveness. If a person is tough, you expect them at the very least to be able to stand up for their own rights and possibly to be able to trespass on the rights of others. A tough person can dish it out.
Second, a tough person is resilient and hard to injure. If they can dish it out, they can also take it. You expect them to be undaunted by trouble, criticism, injuries, danger, and disappointment, to quickly regain their equilibrium, or not to lose it in the first place. They inspire phrases like "bounce right back" and "thick-skinned" and "water off a duck's back."
Toughness comes in several forms. You can be physically tough, mentally tough, or emotionally tough. I would also argue -- very strongly argue -- that toughness is a morally neutral quality. On the positive side, toughness is associated with courage. Toughness can lead people to be independent, self-reliant, and stoic. On the negative side, toughness is associated with insensitivity. Being tough can make one impatient of or oblivious to other people's more sensitive natures. Either way, toughness is pretty much an inborn trait and there's no sense being proud or ashamed of it. Like other traits such as charm, intelligence, beauty, talent, etc., the moral issue related to toughness is not how much you have of it, but how you use it, and to what ends.
GINNY'S TOUGHNESS
From her immediate clarification "not in an unpleasant way," we can guess that Rowling was referring to defensive rather than offensive toughness -- that she meant Ginny is resilient and hard to injure (this is reinforced by her going on to talk about her needing to "stand the demands" of having Harry as a boyfriend). I first suspected Ginny had this quality at the end of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets when I read this:
Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.
Being "perfectly happy" (at least to outward appearances) after the traumatic experiences Ginny underwent in Book 2 is evidence of extreme resiliency -- both emotional toughness and probably physical toughness as well. At that time, any reader who wondered as I did how Ginny might have bounced back so quickly could only speculate. My speculations included hypothesizing that she was the type of person who expressed her emotions rather than bottling them up (which in my experience helps you work through them faster), that she might have had support from her parents and possibly Dumbledore, that she was blessed with a buoyant spirit able to see the humor in even the most dreadful things, and that her upbringing and family life had given her a strong self-image that protected her from excesses of guilt and self-recrimination. Whatever the reason, I gathered a strong impression of the youngest Weasley's resilience.
The next couple of books give us more evidence of Ginny's "toughness" -- mostly by comparison to Ron. Ron is insecure about his family's poverty, but Ginny seems to handle it better. We never see her complaining, and we see her unconcernedly mending her second-hand books with Spellotape. Ron has a big public melt-down about the events of the Yule Ball, but Ginny handles the whole affair calmly despite being a year younger. She dances with her date (Ron does not) and she even comforts Ron after he embarrasses himself by asking Fleur. It appeared to me that Ginny's response to the classic teenaged pitfalls of romance and lack of funds more closely resemble the cheerful insouciance of Fred and George than the touchy sensitivity of Percy and Ron.
But Book 5 was the book when, finally, "the Ginny was brought." We got to know the real Ginny in this book because, as we find out in chapter 16, she has given up her crush on Harry and started to date a different boy, Michael Corner:
"So that's why she talks now?" he asked Hermione. "She never used to talk in front of me."
"Exactly," said Hermione.
The very first time we see Ginny "talk in front of" Harry in Book 5 is the scene where I became quite certain that Ginny was tough. In chapter four, CAPSLOCK!Harry yells at Ron and Hermione, much to their dismay:
Ron was standing there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for anything to say, while Hermione looked on the verge of tears.
However, when Fred and George enter the room, their reaction is quite different:
"Hello, Harry," said George, beaming at him. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."
"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."
Fred's and George's nonchalance in the face of Harry's shouting is a particular type of emotional toughness -- the ability to remain calm and good-tempered when someone is making a loud, dramatic scene. I was reminded just the other day that I don't have this kind of toughness when I turned the corner of an aisle in the grocery store and came upon a woman, apparently mentally ill, who was stomping around, banging her basket into the floor and the glass display doors, and screaming at the top of her lungs at a man only she could see, accusing him of blackmail, saying he wouldn't get away with it, etc.
I have to admit that my heart beat faster, my palms sweated, and I felt distinctly uncomfortable and vaguely guilty as long as I remained near her. I found it an unpleasant, stressful experience, and not just because I was concerned for her and worried about whether she was getting the help she needs. Being around that kind of behavior is inherently unpleasant for most of us, whether the person is yelling at us or not. And, for most of us, it is even more stressful if we are the person getting yelled at, especially if (like Ron and Hermione in this scene) we feel we might deserve it.
But some fortunate people are tougher than I am and are unfazed by such displays. We already knew, long before Book 5, that Fred and George had this quality -- it is one of their most notable characteristics. We now find out that Ginny has it too:
The door opened and a long mane of red hair appeared.
"Oh hello, Harry!" said Ron's younger sister, Ginny, brightly. "I thought I heard your voice."
Turning to Fred and George she said, "It's no go with the Extendable Ears, she's gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."
Ginny's entry is patterned after Fred's and George's. Like them, she mentions Harry's screaming (though, unlike them, she doesn't tease him about it). Like them, her mood is happy despite Harry's foul mood. And like them, she immediately moves on to another subject. It seemed to me that Ginny's entrance deliberately echoed Fred's and George's -- that Rowling was making a point of showing that Ginny shares this trait with them.
The rest of Book 5 reinforces this impression of Ginny's toughness. We get direct evidence of it in scenes where she speaks "coolly" to an angry Harry, thoroughly covered by this admirable essay by psychic_serpent. Again, Ginny's toughness is constrasted to Ron's sensitivity. For instance:
"How're you feeling?" asked Hermione.
"Fine," said Harry stiffly.
"Oh, don't lie, Harry," she said impatiently. "Ron and Ginny say you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's."
"They do, do they?" said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed.
But the most striking contrast of Ginny's toughness to Ron's sensitivity is in the area of Quidditch. Ron has performance anxiety and performs erratically; Ginny -- even though she is replacing a legendary Seeker, even though she is a midseason replacement with far less practice time than Ron had, even though the song about Weasleys being "born in a bin" is just as applicable to her as it is to Ron -- has no problems. When Ron makes the team, Angelina shares her concerns about him with Harry; when Ginny makes the team, Angelina tells Harry "she's pretty good, actually." Ginny is mentally tough enough to snatch the Snitch from right under the Hufflepuff Seeker's nose, and emotionally tough enough to shrug and say "I was lucky" when Harry compliments her for it. Compare this to Ron's erratic performance and his wild elation when he actually performs well. There is no question that Ginny (like the twins) is far tougher about Quidditch than Ron is.
Why did Rowling make Ginny so tough? Is it only to make her Harry's "ideal girl," as she said (and why, exactly, does Harry's girlfriend need to be so tough?), or is there another reason? If so, what? I will attempt to answer those questions eventually, but right now I want to wander off on a disquisition about why I'm so fascinated with tough characters in books. If you, as Elizabeth said to Darcy, never read the same, or not with the same feelings, you'll probably want to skip down to the next section, only reading the bold-face type.
TOUGH CHARACTERS I HAVE KNOWN
I first got interested in "tough" characters during my Georgette Heyer phase (which has lasted approximately thirty years so far). Heyer is obviously interested in this personality trait and often specifically notes how easily her characters can bear loud scenes, embarrassment, and verbal conflict. Most (but not all) of her heroes have exceptional social toughness. This gives them the calm sangfroid so essential to success as a Regency beau -- the behavior so brilliantly described by Wodehouse's Bertie Wooster in Right Ho, Jeeves:
I remember reading in one of those historical novels once about a chap--a buck he would have been, no doubt, or a macaroni or some such bird as that--who, when people said the wrong thing, merely laughed down from lazy eyelids and flicked a speck of dust from the irreproachable Mechlin lace at his wrists.
Heyer's heroines can be anywhere on the scale from the irrepressible Sophy in The Grand Sophy to the gentle, timid Harriet in The Foundling. My point, though, is that Heyer tells us how her characters stand on this scale because, in the social skirmishing of the comedies of manners she writes, it will be essential to how their plots will play out. In The Grand Sophy, Sophy's fearless aplomb and utter lack of social shame is the plot -- it is her main tool in managing and manipulating everyone about her, always for the kindest reasons and with the best of results. Here is how she explains it herself:
"Very bad business," said Mr. Wychbold. "Nothing to be done, though."
"That," said Sophy severely, "is what people always say when they are too lazy, or perhaps too timorous, to make a push to be helpful! I have a great many faults, but I am not lazy, and I am not timorous, though that, I know, is not a virtue, for I was born without any nerves at all, my father tells me, and almost no sensibility."
Heyer stresses the inborn nature of Sophy's toughness.
Similarly, in Heyer's Sylvester, it is the heroine's lack of toughness that sets the plot in motion; she runs away from home because she doesn't have the fortitude to defy her overbearing stepmother. In this case, the heroine Phoebe is physically tough but emotionally sensitive:
"... Even if I had the courage to disobey her only think what misery I should be obliged to endure! And don't tell me not to regard it, because to be in disgrace for weeks and weeks, as I would be, so sinks my spirits that I can't even write! I know it's idiotish of me, but I can't overcome my dread of being in her black books! I feel as if I were withering!"
He had too often seen her made ill by unkindness to think her words over-fanciful. It was strange that a girl so physically intrepid should have so much sensibility. In his own phrase, he knew her for a right one; but he knew also that in a censorious atmosphere her spirits were swiftly overpowered, none of her struggles to support them alleviating the oppression which transformed her from the neck-or-nothing girl whom no oxer could daunt to the shrinking miss whose demeanor was as meek as her conversation was insipid.
Again, Phoebe was simply born this way, and it is neither a moral virtue nor a moral failing for her to be emotionally sensitive. But her internal trait of emotional sensitivity limits her options and affects the choices she makes, probably even more than do external factors such as her sex, age, social position, and financial resources.
In Heyer's fictional world -- a comedic society full of shrill harridans, ranting blowhards, pompous bores, and censorious gossips -- being emotionally tough is an enormous advantage in getting what you want. At the minimum, it will allow you to "stand the guff," hanging tough as you resist being pushed into an unwanted marriage or profession, ignore the demands of genteel blackmailers and importunate supplicants, and withstand the embarrassments of unpleasant relatives, unfashionable clothing, badly-behaved pets, or whatever the author has devised to torment you. At the best, it will give you power over others. Heyer's emotionally toughest characters are classic Tricksters -- manipulative con-men and -women like Sophy whose control of their own emotions gives them the power to play with the emotions of others.
Some of these emotionally tough manipulators are heroes and heroines -- Sophy in The Grand Sophy, Hugo Darracott in The Unknown Ajax, Nicholas Beauvallet in Beauvallet. Sometimes they are secondary characters -- the heroine's father in The Masqueraders, the hero's father in Devil's Cub, the enterprising ingenue in Sprig Muslin. At other times, they are entertaining villains or rascals -- Mr. Liversedge in The Foundling, Mr. Steane in Charity Girl, Cedric Brandon in The Corinthian.
These tricky characters vary a great deal in intelligence, ambitiousness, and moral character, but they all have the following in common:
- A cheerful indifference to criticism and loud scenes
Not only do they remain calm and keep their wits about them even when someone is yelling at them or having hysterics, but -- because of their tolerance for such things -- they can deliberately provoke such scenes in pursuit of their aims. People are easier to manipulate if you keep them upset and off-balance. - An immunity to normal embarrassment
This is an incredibly useful characteristic for the con-man or -woman to have. You can do so much more if you're not worried about the consequences of being exposed, and you are free to create useful embarrassing scenes that distress you not at all but are likely to make your targets miserable. - The ability to lie convincingly with a straight face
Most people find lying very stressful, which makes us tend to avoid it and to show telltale signs of discomfort when we do it. If you aren't worried about the embarrassment of being caught and you're indifferent to negative moral judgments about your untruthfulness, it makes lying less stressful and more likely to be successful. The utility of this in manipulating others is obvious.
However, some of Wodehouse's men are emotionally tough. Of these, some are mere blustering bullies like Roderick Spode or hardy hearty blokes like Tuppy Glossop. But some are manipulative tricksters: Jeeves is one, of course, but the preeminent examples of the type are the incorrigible Stanley Featherstonehough Ukridge, the shameless Gally Threepwood, and the irrepressible Ronald/Rupert Psmith. These characters can face enraged business magnates with smiling courtesy, cheerfully admit to the most egregious behavior and shameful motives, calmly propose to women they've barely met, purloin valuables with split-second timing, and impersonate servants or famous authors with casual aplomb. Their emotional toughness (along with ambitious, agile brains) gives them mastery of the plot -- almost like authors within their own stories.
I'm going on and on about manipulative con-man characters here not because all emotionally tough characters are like that, not even because this kind of person is particularly prominent among emotionally tough characters in Heyer's and Wodehouse's work, but mostly because I really, really like them. Many of my favorite characters -- Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean, Dr. House of House, John Tregarth from Elizabeth Peters' Vicky Bliss series, David Addison of Moonlighting -- are variations of this type: shameless, impossible to snub, utterly impervious to public opinion, and ruthlessly manipulating those around them to their own ends. Their effrontery is what makes them the wonderful characters they are... well, along with intelligence, quick wits, great sense of humor, extreme hawtness, etc. But the effrontery is very important too!
WHY I LOVE TOUGH CHARACTERS
Besides the fact that I dearly love the plot complications and machinations that only an emotionally tough master manipulator can create, emotionally tough characters give me a thrill because of the simple lesson they teach: you don't have to let other people make you feel bad. I can't learn this lesson to the point of actually emulating them. I writhe in embarrassment in humiliating situations, let myself be bothered and flustered by other people's opinions of me, flinch and sweat if someone is crying or screaming or throwing things, feel guilty and nervous if I lie, and helplessly respond to events rather than cleverly manipulating everyone around me.
But these characters show me that life doesn't have to be like that. If I had been lucky enough to have been born like Sophy or Psmith, with a tough hide and no nerves at all, how much fun I could have had! For a little while, as I watch or read, I can identify with them and experience their success vicariously. And maybe, by observing them and laughing at their exploits and admiring their audacity, I can absorb just a little of that toughness for myself.
But how does all this relate to the Harry Potter series? How, in particular, does it relate to Ginny Weasley? I will elucidate...
TOUGH CHARACTERS IN THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS
When I think of tough characters in relation to Harry Potter, two names leap out at me -- Fred and George Weasley. These guys are physically tough ("a couple of human Bludgers") and mentally tough. But, most of all, they are emotionally tough in exactly the manipulative fashion I have been talking about. They are archtypal Tricksters. They deliberately make scenes (the fireworks, the swamp) to rile up others while remaining cheerfully calm themselves:
"So!" said Umbridge triumphantly. Harry realized she was standing just a few stairs in front of him, once more looking down upon her prey.
"So - you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.
Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.
"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving the piece of parchment Harry had just seen him take from her desk. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... oh, let me do it now..."
"Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are."
He turned to his twin.
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
In fact, they actively enjoy loud scenes:
But at that precise moment there was an explosion of sound from downstairs that rendered Extendable Ears quite unnecessary. All of them could hear exactly what Mrs. Weasley was shouting at the top of her voice.
"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"
"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," said Fred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice to permeate the room better, "it makes such a nice change."
"- COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-"
"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," said George, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours..."
They are seemingly immune to embarrassment, taking events like the two of them singing the school song alone long after everyone else had finished, receiving only three OWLs each, Fred's wild dancing with Angelina or the two of them being given beards after crossing Dumbledore's Age Line completely in stride:
They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.
They are also bold-faced and successful liars, so unconcerned by the stress of saying that which is not that they do it casually, even if they are unlikely to be believed:
"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred.
Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.
"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch-"
Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.
"Just my little joke, Neville...."
...
Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.
"Oh - sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot - it was the custard-" creams we hexed-"
So Fred and George Weasley are pretty much perfect representatives of the socially-tough manipulative characters who have enlivened many a story for me. They're the only characters in the Harry Potter series, besides possibly Peeves, whom I would call full-fledged archtypal Tricksters. But they aren't the only characters in the series who are socially and emotionally tough.
One character for whom "toughness" is almost his entire character description is Rufus Scrimgeour:
There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness; the Prime Minister thought he understood why the Wizarding community preferred Scrimgeour to Fudge as a leader in these dangerous times.
Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to
Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety.
He had, Harry knew, been Head of the Auror office; he looked tough and battle-scarred, very different from portly Fudge in his bowler hat.
Fudge's security wizard Dawlish is also described mainly as "tough." We don't see enough of these two characters, however, to be sure that they have the particular quality of social toughness -- the words could be sufficiently warranted by the physical and mental toughness that has made them successful Aurors.
A character we do know is emotionally as well as physically and mentally tough is Mad-Eye Moody. We see that in the scene where he is calmly unmoved by the blustering of Vernon Dursley (not exactly a shrinking lily himself):
Uncle Vernon swelled ominously. His sense of outrage seemed to outweigh even his fear of this bunch of oddballs.
"Are you threatening me, sir?" he said, so loudly that passers-by actually turned to stare.
"Yes, I am," said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.
"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" barked Uncle Vernon.
"Well..." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backwards in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley.
"Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley."
He turned away from Uncle Vernon to survey Harry.
"So, Potter... give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along..."
Moody never lets embarrassment or concern for what others might think of him interfere with his constant vigilance. No wonder Fred and George pronounce him (or, at least, his impersonator) "beyond cool."
I'm probably forgetting some, but there are many other characters in the series I suspect might be emotionally or socially tough. Nymphadora Tonks, Angelina Johnson, Dudley's Aunt Marge, Vernon Dursley to a large extent, Tom Riddle probably, Rita Skeeter definitely.
But the one who stands out the most for me is Albus Dumbledore.
[I can't believe I stopped just as I was about to discuss my favorite character!]
MORAL IMPLICATIONS OF TOUGHNESS
PLOT IMPLICATIONS OF TOUGHNESS
ROMANTIC IMPLICATIONS OF TOUGHNESS
WHEREFORE GINNY?
I leave the writing of the last four sections as an exercise for the reader. :p