Welcome to my website! Bear with me as I try to learn the intricacies of creating a webpage. I hope to bloviate about whatever is intriguing me or annoying me on any given day. Rather than just ranting about the state of the world, I will try to limit my posts to things related to my books and current projects. I have been thinking quite a bit about revenge. “Vengeance is Mine, sayeth the Lord,” but we mere mortals try to co-opt that prerogative as often as we can. If someone wrongs us, we tend to seek revenge rather than forgiveness. And there is space for both. Would A Final Testament’s presumptive villain, Dr. Marcus Griffin, have been better off had he forgiven his father, the church, and the men who abused him? Or is he right to demand revenge, not only for personal satisfaction but for preventing future victims? Is he really the hero of the piece?
Edmond Dantes, the Count of Monte Cristo, sought to destroy the men who framed him and stole his life. Seemed like a perfectly rational response to what he had to endure. Yet, while he succeeded in ruining his enemies, the collateral damage–innocents harmed, lives shattered–forced him to confront the emptiness of his revenge.
Heathcliff of Wuthering Heights fame wanted to punish everyone who separated him from his beloved Catherine and looked down upon him. He succeeded, gaining control over the Earnshaw and Linton families, but Catherine’s death left him feeling hollow and his “victories” like ashes.
On the other hand, Odysseus, who returned home after a twenty-year sojourn, finds a line of men trying to take away his wife, his throne, and his legacy. He slaughters his usurpers, restores his authority, reunites with Penelope, and feels great about it! Even the gods seem to celebrate his revenge.
Is revenge best left to fate or is it better to exact it personally? I suppose, like most human endeavors, it’s a balance. Revenge can lead to obsession (see, e.g., Captain Ahab) and death (Hamlet), but it can also lead to accountability for wrongdoers and provide a measure of peace for those who negotiate its treacherous waters successfully.
Dr. Griffin had it all: wealth, respect, a lovely consort, a prestigious position at a world-renowned university, and most of the other things people would identify as having “made it” in life. Yet there remained a hole in his life, an unquenchable desire for revenge–or is it justice? Can human beings ever truly be satisfied? Some evolutionary biologists argue that humans evolved certain motivational systems that push us to keep striving. A mild, chronic sense of “not enough yet”–whether for food or fairness– kept our ancestors seeking food, status, mates, alliances, and safety. Evolutionary biologists label this drive the “hedonic treadmill” or “motivational asymmetry.” Viewed this way, satisfaction of any sort tends to feel temporary, because lingering contentment would reduce survival. So, “revenge is a dish best served cold” worked perfectly until humankind invented fire!