I want to jump off something Kassia's says in her excellent post, by way of getting to talk about con men. She says:
Now, to me, stereotypes can be useful when done well. They provide useful shorthand in those instances when a quick mental understanding is needed.
The key to creating memorable characters is moving beyond the stereotypes with key, concrete details. Ford could have stopped at the name with Vonda, the Rubber Lady -- you know everything about her right there -- but he gave her a love life and a future. Vonda wasn't page filler. She was an integral part of the story.
I couldn't agree more. In fact, perhaps what makes the characterization here so deft and true is that you could step back and see "types" among the cast. I don't want to take this too far, because I don't think there are any true stereotypes here. But I can't help thinking about con men in general, and how magic they can be when done well in fiction. Which, of course, makes me think of one of my favorite nonfiction books ever, David W. Maurer's The Big Con: The Story of the Confidence Man. It was originally published in 1940. Maybe it's a bit dated, and sure, there have been plenty of excellent books about the con written since, but it's near and dear to me. Maurer was a linguistics professor at the University of Louisville and the book actually resulted from his linguistic research into the language of the "high swindle." To doubleback to Anne's point, it's only appropriate that The Girl in the Glass should employ such dizzyingly lush language and it absolutely enhances the story.
Anyway, consider Maurer's opening description of a con man:
The grift has a gentle touch. It takes its toll from the verdant sucker by means of the skilled hand or the sharp wit. In this, it differs from all other forms of crime, and especially from the heavy-rackets. It never employs violence to separate the mark from his money. Of all the grifters, the confidence man is the aristocrat.
Although the confidence man is sometimes classed with professional thieves, pickpockets, and gamblers, he is really not a thief at all because he does no actual stealing. The trusting victim literally thrusts a fat bank roll into his hands. It is a point of pride with him that he does not have to steal.
Confidence men are not "crooks" in the ordinary sense of the word. They are suave, slick, and capable. Their depredations are very much on the genteel side. Because of their high intelligence, their solid organization, the widespread connivance of the law, and the fact that the victim must virtually admit criminal intentions himself if he wishes to prosecute, society has been neither willing nor able to avenge itself effectively.
Does Thomas Schell meet this profile? Sure; and yet, he's still only the memorable Thomas Schell and his father, foundling son relationship with Diego was for me the true heart of the book. The relationship that supersedes all the others that Kassia references.
And, as I've said before, aren't all successful stories cons of some kind anyway? Sure they are.
If only I'd had the time, this post would have been considerably longer and touched on how enjoyable the spiritualist element of the story is when coupled with the con. Instead, I'll leave you with a quote from Schell that seems appropriate:
"It's almost too easy to believe that," said Schell, "but I don't buy it. There are no such things as ghosts. Houdini may have been someone who could have made life very difficult for us if he'd ever caught wind of our operation. But I have to say I had the utmost respect for him, because he was right: the spiritualist phenomenon is all sleight of hand, relying one hundred percent upon gullibility. I dare say it doesn't end there, but you can throw in religion, romantic love, and luck as well. No, this was something else."
And a few fun spiritualist links:
Dostoevsky and spiritualism
The Skeptic's Dictionary
The Skeptiseum
Comments