Snidely Whiplash, the Machiavelli of cartoon villains |
Probably the most cited villain in history is Machiavelli. Confusingly, he wasn't actually a villain: he only wrote like he was. In his novel The Prince, Machiavelli paints the picture of a ruthless medieval prince that lets nothing stand in his way. Machiavelli clearly explains that a power seeker "must not have any other object or any other thought, nor must he adopt anything as his art but war". If he had actually believed this, he would have indeed been the picture of power-mad evil, but "it's entirely possible (and perhaps even probable) that Machiavelli was being sarcastic" (Klosterman 13). Klosterman explained that Machiavelli has become the gold-standard of villains because he dared to write on the ethos of villainy. Klosterman believes that society has labeled Machiavelli the way we have because we are trained to fear and hate anybody that is capable of having those kinds of thoughts (and writing them down). Machiavelli's prince obviously knew more than any of the other characters, but empathized with others the least. The prince was so evil that even his creator became a villain. There are, of course, modern-day examples of this type of villainy.
The general public dislikes Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. He was "distant and difficult to love" (Klosterman 172). The problem was that Jabbar made it abundantly clear that he knew the most and cared the least. He spoke utterly frankly and unapologetically and the public couldn't stomach it. He is forever labeled as a villain (of sorts) in the public eye. The same is true of OJ Simpson. The man does not behave remorsefully but nor does he seem to miss his wife at all. He did not flee the country. He did not gracefully step down from the limelight, rather, he basked in the tragedy of his wife's death. It's obvious he's apathetic, and "he's the only person alive who can know what he knows" (Klosterman 179). Yet again, the public hates the man that knows the most and cares the least and Klosterman's formula rings true. To further his point Klosterman offers examples that cater to a modern and "hip" audience.
It is obvious that Klosterman wrote this to adult liberal members of American society. He makes a plethora of references to modern technology like blogs and iPods, but he also wrote about movies, sports and news events from decades past as though the reader had experienced those times themselves. In some portions of the book he even admitted that a reader that did not watch the Clinton scandal or observe the OJ trial would not understand the entire meaning of some passages, but the book was also filled with more accessible examples for younger or older readers. Most of the book, however, was about current villains (terrorists or Walter White) or evildoers that society knows quite a bit about. It's obvious that Klosterman expected progressive persons to read this book because he wrote so casually about sex and other crass subjects, but that is not to say the book was entirely tasteless.
It is impressive the way Klosterman skillfully switched from sardonic to serious. He never poked fun at passages that use the word "rape" and was particularly careful when he writes about Hitler, but other sections of the book were extremely funny and relatable. The author managed to refer to the creator of Megaupload (a popular file-sharing site that was once a hotbed of piracy) as a "350-pound, egocentric German multimillionaire who never went to college and refers to himself as Dr. Evil" (Klosterman 137) without seeming abrasive or insulting. Klosterman made similar remarks about the blogger Perez Hilton and Prince (the singer). Because Klosterman is so adept at dancing on the thin line that separates gratuitous offensiveness and hilarity, I give his book the Dancing Shoes award. Other previous winners of this award have been SNL and The Onion (at times), but Klosterman outshines them all with his undeniable wit and his inspiring sensitivity. The book was masterfully comical while still communicating serious ideas.
This book was eye-opening to me. Until I read it I had assumed some actions were inherently villainous, but Klosterman explained this is not the case. Even apparantly diabolical deeds like robbing banks or hijacking airplanes can be seen as audacious and endearing with the right context. It is difficult to think of similarities between all villains that ever existed, but as more and more examples come to light, Klosterman's formula for villainy becomes truer and truer: the villain is the person that knows the most and cares the least.