I don’t consider talking about themes a useful avenue to pursue when writing. While it’s nice to have a idea of themes you’re including, I find that thinking too hard about abstract ideas like ‘identity’ or ‘loss’ often distracts me from focusing on the most important elements of a story: character and plot.
But that doesn’t mean that I can simply ignore it. Themes often act as the connection between characters and the central plot. Whether the themes come as a byproduct of a well written story, or the glue holding one together is up to the writer.
With that in mind, I wanted to take a closer look at how the motivations of the characters in Tamsyn Muir’s Gideon the Ninth align with the themes of order present throughout the book. Spoilers ahead.
The story, in short, revolves a group of seventeen people isolated within a tower. They’ve been selected from eight different houses: political entities within the world. At first, the seventeen maintain a sense of structure. A social hierarchy forms within the tower, and the eight houses get along amicably enough.
And then two are murdered.
The two murdered are the leading figures in the small community. They come from a hugely influential house, and have been maintaining civility between the seventeen even under the circumstances.
After this, the entire group falls apart in distrust. Violence ensues.
Often when stories of this nature descend into anarchy, there’s a disconnect with the audience. I’ll often find myself thinking “Well people wouldn’t really act like that.” In the Walking Dead, the remnants of society fall to cannibalism and murder within months, with little reason behind it.
But the reasoning behind the collapse of this little society is clearly formed from each of the character’s motivations. These motivations are established early on, and form the basis of why the remainders are incapable of banding together after the attack.
“I told you before that the Second House would take responsibility if no one else had the stomach for it. That begins now.”
The important fact here is that the groups inability to band together in the wake of the attack comes from the character’s individual relationships with ideas of order and authority.
All the Houses have come with their own ideas of how society is best ordered, and so in after the death of the leading figures, are set against one another to establish their own ideas of order.
For example, the Second House are seen by the others throughout the story as ignorant, resorting to violence as soon as order begins to break down. One character even declares it was the Second Houses’ violent attempt to take control that caused the group to abandon their rules, and embrace anarchy. Many readers are left confused by the character’s actions, and resentful of them for their ignorance.
But their actions are logical, both in the context of their backgrounds and motivation, and in within the wider context of the theme of order.
They are soldiers, who have spent their lives fighting for the Cohort to bring order to uncivilised worlds. Shed blood beforehand, and are the only house unshaken by the murders.
In their experience, if anyone but the rulers can enact violence, chaos will ensue. In the wake of the murder of the group’s leaders, they are proven right.
Their violent actions within the story aren’t to empower themselves, they’re an attempt to scare other houses into order. To prevent violence erupting among the others, they are willing to use violence.
It’s seen as hypocritical by many, including readers, but it fits with the ideas of order that the story is based around, and with their own motivations.
There are many example of this throughout the book. Each of the Houses attempt to reintroduce order in some way, whether through piety, secrecy or knowledge. All ultimately fail.
They fail, as they are set against one another. The differences between them are ultimately directly connected to the theme of order beating in the heart of the story.
This is a great example of how character and theme can work really well when closely aligned. Making the characters relationships with the theme of the story so central to the plot brings each character within the book into close focus. It makes it more real to the reader, as opposed to the grand posturing we often associate with the idea of themes.
This is hardly unique to Gideon the Ninth. The vast majority of great stories take intricate care of the relationship their characters have with the theme. But for me, the care taken was vividly clear in this story, and I wanted to leave this as a reminder, not only for anyone who reads this, but for myself.
The Fellowship Of Ink 