Books
9 of Literature's Least Likable Protagonists
Last week the New York Times ran a column on the importance of likable characters. Two takeaways we walked away with: the want for likeable characters isn’t lowbrow, but you don’t need to like the character to love the book. As Mohsin Hamid points out in the column, you can fall in love with the character’s struggles, their voice, and their observations. Creating an unlikable character is one thing, but creating an unlikable protagonist — the person in whom the reader is supposed to be invested — is another risk. We’ve gathered up some books that have it pulled off exceptionally well, with each of them featuring a protagonist we can’t stand — but stories we love nonetheless.
Last week the New York Times ran a column on the importance of likable characters. Two takeaways we walked away with: the want for likeable characters isn’t lowbrow, but you don’t need to like the character to love the book. As Mohsin Hamid points out in the column, you can fall in love with the character’s struggles, their voice, and their observations. Creating an unlikable character is one thing, but creating an unlikable protagonist — the person in whom the reader is supposed to be invested — is another risk. We’ve gathered up some books that have it pulled off exceptionally well, with each of them featuring a protagonist we can’t stand — but stories we love nonetheless.
Nora Eldridge in ‘The Woman Upstairs’
Novelist Claire Messud’s protagonist is angry. Her unlikability came under fire during a Q&A when one interviewer asked Messud whether she would be friends with her protagonist in real life. Messud’s response? Well, it’s too good not to quote.
“For heaven’s sake, what kind of question is that? Would you want to be friends with Humbert Humbert? Would you want to be friends with Mickey Sabbath? Saleem Sinai? Hamlet? Krapp? Oedipus? Oscar Wao? Antigone? Raskolnikov? Any of the characters in The Corrections? Any of the characters in Infinite Jest? Any of the characters in anything Pynchon has ever written? Or Martin Amis? Or Orhan Pamuk? Or Alice Munro, for that matter? If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble. We read to find life, in all its possibilities. The relevant question isn’t ‘Is this a potential friend for me?’ but ‘Is this character alive?’ ”
Messud later went on to say in an interview with the New York Times podcast that she felt that it was a gendered question and that readers do not expect to identify with male protagonists, but have unfair expectations of female protagonists. Hence, Messud and her protagonist Nora became the bastions of unlikable, unapologetic and realistic female characters.
Hamlet in ‘Hamlet’
The original emo character, all Hamlet seems to do is mope about his horrible life and then procrastinate on actually doing anything about it. He also manages to kill a handful of people during his “figuring it out” period. It’s like he’s just waiting for his manic pixie dream girl to put his life back together. Never has indecisiveness looked so unattractive.
Emma Bovary in ‘Madame Bovary’
Our modern day desperate housewife Emma is bored with her provincial domesticity and has unrealistic expectation of what life should be like. She wants her (extramarital) romances to be something out of a Harlequin novel, and her life to be full of nonstop excitement. Her obsession with social status drives her to states of utter delusion to the point where we actually feel sorry for how incredibly ignorant she is. Don’t hate Emma because she’s beautiful, hate her because she’s an entitled, selfish, and pathetic poser.
Patrick Bateman in ‘American Psycho’
The master of unlikable narrators, Bret Easton Ellis certainly delivers with Patrick Bateman. A sociopath who likes to wear impeccable shoes and chainsaw prostitutes in his free time, Patrick is impenetrable to the reader. If his whole murdering hobby didn’t cause immediate dislike, the fact that we can’t seem to get under the surface to figure out why he is the way he is certainly will.
Holden Caulfield in ‘Catcher in the Rye’
He’s angsty, out of touch with reality and hates just about everything (seriously, if you took out his proclamations about phoniness you'd lose half the book). The poster boy for every misunderstood teenager growing up, Holden does have his own charm, but his overly sensitive and self-centered traits do a good job of covering it up.
Lee Fiora in ‘Prep’
Lee is a hard person to support. An astute observer who feels alienated from her wealthy peers at an elite boarding school, she does not try to fit in. Instead of putting herself out there, she makes things harder for herself, willingly filling the role of the judgmental outsider. The awkwardness, the lack of self-confidence, the fact that she was ashamed of her family, all of these traits would have made her vulnerable and likable if she showed some progress or effort to change. But it is Lee’s painfully realistic flaws that give her such a compelling form for readers.
Ben Turnbull in ‘Towards the End of Time’
In a review of John Updike’s novel, David Foster Wallace wrote that the protagonist was fundamentally unlikable and a repellent narcissist. Central character Turnbull is from an upper class rural home and is brutal to others, he also, according to DFW, lacks any self-awareness. Wallace writes, “Ben Turnbull's unhappiness is obvious right from the book's first page. But it never once occurs to him that the reason he's so unhappy is that he's an asshole.”
Anna Karenina in ‘Anna Karenina’
Some people see Anna Karenina as a romantic feminist fighting for true love and trying to shatter the patriarchal constraints of society. But for the rest of us, she’s just a selfish, unconcerned mother who ultimately drives everyone away from her. #TeamDolly
Alexander Portnoy in ‘Portnoy’s Complaint’
Alexander Portnoy is your typical self-absorbed bachelor pouring out his sexual frustrations to his psychoanalyst. Actually he’s not typical — he’s neurotic, guilt-ridden, and aimless. He’s also one of those love him or hate him type of characters. But wherever you stand on the Alexander P spectrum, his character makes for one brave, controversial, and fantastic book.
