The University of Edinburgh | WK2 SPEECH AND BEHAVIOUR

A more reliable way of judging character then, is through a more roundabout route. Rather than being told what
someone is like, we can decide for ourselves through the way they conduct themselves in conversation, and their

behaviour towards others.

To take the first of these first, how a character talks is often key, revealing of their irony and prejudices, their
warmth or anger. Also, their social class and educational background. Do they sound intelligent, arrogant,

unconfident? Are they bullying or submissive?

In Virginia Woolf's novel, To the Lighthouse, published in 1927, the character of Mr. Ramsay is in many ways the

polar opposite of his wife. Where she is patient, kind, and selfless, he is vain, arrogant, short-tempered and

dismissive. In the first, and longest, section of the novel the family are on holiday on the Isle of Skye, and the
youngest son, six-year-old James, is desperate to take a boat trip out to the lighthouse the following day. His
mother, Mrs. Ramsay, whom he adores, is still hopeful that the expedition might take place, and reassures him

accordingly. But Mr. Ramsay, his father has no truck with such apparently wishful thinking, and sees no need to let
the boy down gently.

"There wasn't the slightest possible chance that they could go to the Lighthouse to-morrow, Mr. Ramsay snapped
out irascibly. How did he know? she asked. The wind often changed. The extraordinary irrationality of her remark,
the folly of women's minds enraged him. He had ridden through the valley of death, been shattered and shivered;

and now she flew in the face of facts, made his children hope what was utterly out of the question, in effect, told
lies.

He stamped his foot on the stone step. 'Damn you,' he said. But what had she said? Simply that it might be fine to-

morrow. So it might. Not with the barometer falling and the wind due west. To pursue truth with such astonishing
lack of consideration for other people's feelings, to rend the thin veils of civilisation so wantonly, so brutally, was to

her so horrible an outrage of human decency that, without replying, dazed and blinded, she bent her head as if to

let the pelt of jagged hail, the drench of dirty water, bespatter her unrebuked. There was nothing to be said."

Notice here Mr. Ramsay's utter insensitivity to the feelings of his son. He angrily blurts out the facts as he

perceives them, regardless of the impact this might have on those dear to him. He even stamps his foot in an
immature gesture of frustration. This seems to be someone used to having his own way. And note also that in the

face of such unreasonableness his ever patient wife can merely bow her head, seemingly used to enduring these

bouts of petulance.

The final paragraph reveals to us that she is appalled by him, but refuses to react.
As well as their words, another fundamental way we go about judging a character is through their actions. Is this

the behaviour of someone whose value system we share, and of which we approve? If we were put in a similar

situation would we act in the same way? Characters are most relatable when they're neither wholly good nor
wholly bad. We tend to believe in them as real complex individuals if we recognise their flaws as our own. So if

they do act out, commit a crime, or behave badly towards another character, is this simply a one off mistake, or

part of a more disturbing longstanding pattern of behaviour?

Consider the following passage, taken from a little later on in Jane Austen's novel, Emma, when the title character,

Emma Woodhouse, mocks another character, the well-meaning but very talkative Miss Bates. During a picnic on
Box Hill as part of a game, each member of the lunch party is asked to think of one thing very clever, or two things

moderately clever, or three things very dull indeed.

"'Oh! very well,' exclaimed Miss Bates, 'then I need not be uneasy. "Three things very dull indeed." That will just

do for me, you know. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth, shan't I? - (looking
round with the most good-humoured dependence on every body's assent) - Do you not all think I shall?' Emma

could not resist. 'Ah! ma'am, but there may be a difficulty. Pardon me - but you will be limited as to number - only

three at once.'

Miss Bates, deceived by the mock ceremony of her manner, did not immediately catch her meaning; but when it

burst on her, it could not anger, though a slight blush showed that it could pain her. 'Ah! - well - to be sure. Yes, I
see what she means, (turning to Mr. Knightley,) and I will try to hold my tongue. I must make myself very

disagreeable, or she would not have said such a thing to an old friend.'"

In this passage we witness Emma's unthinking cruelty to someone kind, and with far fewer social advantages. Her

biting remark to Miss Bates is a much more vivid and memorable indicator of her callousness than any broad

description telling us what she is like. But Emma will subsequently feel ashamed of this rudeness, and alter her

behaviour. The same cannot however be said for Mr. Ramsay, if we return to the example of Virginia Woolf's
novel, because that bout of unkindness I drew attention to earlier is consistent with a longer-term pattern of

behaviour. As a grown man his personality is largely set, and throughout the early stages of the novel we witness

him being overbearing, ill-mannered, while at the same time, and somewhat paradoxically, also demanding

sympathy from his family.