She is a character with a distinct appearance, personality and relationships with other characters. She’s an avatar of death the way Ben Grimm is an avatar of alienation, or Matt Murdock is an avatar of triumph over disability. She’s extraordinary compared to you or me, but not to the Endless, pagan gods and larger-than-life historical figures she’s usually depicted as being around. If she’s not a character, neither is Wonder Woman or Galactus or Virginia Madsen’s character in Prairie Home Companion.
A Mary Sue, besides being a stand-in for the writer, is a model of normality, competence and well-adjustedness in contrast to the other characters. She has to disappear at episode’s end because she can’t exist for too long in the same continuum as the regular series characters.
What consequences? What personality flaws? What talents besides greeting the newly dead? She’s a Mary Sue. That’s why it was her brother’s name on the book that ran for 70 issues, not hers.
Mary Russell is hardly Victorian. She does study theology (as did her creator). They are both native Californians–& married to older men. But Kate Martinelli is the protagonist of Laurie R King’s other detective series; she’s a lesbian homicide detective living in modern San Francisco.
But what do I know? I’ve read every book in the series–more than once. And I’m eagerly awaiting the next one: The Language of Bees.
I don’t think we’re far apart on our own personal definitions but the term “Mary Sue” has been a distorted thing right from the beginning meaning something slightly different to each person.
As far as Wil Wheaton goes, I do know some actors are able to influence the direction of their characters some. And if Wil Wheaton was a stand-in for Gene Roddenberry, surely he would have listened if Wil had spoken up? Who knows, he may have. I did find the episode where Wesley and his friends tried that banned shuttle maneuver and one of their fellow pilots was killed was probably the best Wesley episode…it showed him screwing up, being forced to confess, and taking the consequences.
I don’t think Beth in Little Women was a Mary Sue. She certainly didn’t have any extra talents…she was just a very sweet, frail girl, who died young.
I’m not sure that test is very fair. I did John Perry from John Scalzi’s sci-fi book Old Man’s War and he scored a 71 almost solely because he was a supersoldier in an army where everyone is a supersoldier, he shared the author’s first name and his profession before becoming a supersoldier was as a writer (which is mentioned once in the whole book).
I’m totally baffled on how you define Mary Sue. I’ve never heard anyone defining them as a model of normality. If anything they are usually jarring to the story as they are too exceptional. Also if Death was written by a 16 year old goth girl I could see your point but I don’t think Mr Gaiman really sees himself as a lovable chirpy girl with white facepaint.
For me the worst (in more ways then one) Mary Sue is ‘Mark’ in Regina’s Song. I felt dirty reading some passages as I could feel David Eddings typing with sweaty palms thinking about how great ‘Mark’ was and how perfect and awesome and how alike they both are.
Another Richard from Sword of Truth is another terrible case of a Mary Sue. Every woman wants him. Every man wants to be him (or is threatened by how perfect and wonderful he is). As the series goes on it gets worse as he also just becomes a mouth piece for the author’s political views.
No, she’s not. She is actually Death. Not an avatar of death, but Death. Beyond even what a god is, because in the Gaimanverse, gods can die but the Endless cannot be destroyed permanently.
That’s the point: Mary Sues ARE extraordinary in their context. Death is not. She is just as she’d have to be to fulfill her role in the story, which is minimal. Not until Time of Your Life and High Cost of Living does she really get a personality. In those, IIRC, she’s sort of clueless.
Yes, I don’t see how she’s an author stand-in or a paragon of perfection. She’s a lot more of a plot device than anything else. There are other characters who are extraordinary, paragons of whatever they’re supposed to be. That’s what happens when your story is chock full of Endless, gods, immortals, demons, and angels.
All her talents are “job related,” which is part of what disqualifies her from being a Mary Sue. Mary Sues have extravagant powers that seem gratuitous or extraordinary, like she’s supposed to be a regular person but is annoyingly gifted or special in some way. Death isn’t like that. She doesn’t possess any qualities not required by her (rather brief) role in the story. She doesn’t seem overpowered or deliberately puffed up. She’s essentially a really cool bit player, never in the spotlight, so not a Mary Sue character.
By your standards, Gandalf would also be a Mary Sue. I don’t think he is, but if someone who has no real personality flaws, is the possessor of extraordinary power, and can do amazing things makes you a Mary Sue, he’s it. But he’s not-- see why?
Dirk Pitt, from the Clive Cussler novels, is an extreme case of both a Gary Stu and a self-insert. Tom Clancy stand-in Jack Ryan, already mentioned, is also a very extreme case of both.
To clarify: A Mary Sue is a ridiculously perfect character, not a self-insert and nor a picture of normalcy. They usaully ARE self-inserts, like Wes Crusher, Bella Swan or Jack Ryan, but don’t have to be. Wikipedia has the best summary:
“Mary Sue, sometimes shortened simply to Sue, is a pejorative term used to describe **a fictional character who plays a major role in the plot and is particularly characterized by overly idealized and hackneyed mannerisms, lacking noteworthy flaws, and primarily functioning as wish-fulfillment fantasies **for their authors and/or readers.”
I think you were mixing your fantasy-heroes, though I do have to agree that Rand al’Thor is completely and totally Robert Jordan’s Gary Stu. Mat and Lan totally outclass that bum–not that I read WoT. Really. cough
Meanwhile, Bran Stark’ll be dead before he has a chance to become uber-perfect. Starks have the life expectancy of a May fly in the Song of Ice and Fire series.
Mason often grapples with moral (and ethical) dilemmas. In a fair number of his cases, some piece of evidence, some witness’s testimony, or some contradiction between the facts as they are uncovered and his client’s story will cause him to doubt, however briefly, that he is on the side of the truth.
This is the clearest evidence against. Burger and Tragg (et seq.) are by no means unambiguously evil. They are lawmen doing their jobs. Therefore they are, despite being the opposition, good guys. And they abhor Mason. Their professional regard for his accomplishments would certainly keep either of them from saying they downright hate him, but it is clear they have no love for him whatsoever. (Andy in the later episodes clearly had a large amount of respect for Mason, though.)
Michael Carpenter from the Dresden Files might or might not qualify – he is almost certainly not an author stand-in, but he is just so perfect – pious and trustworthy and unfailingly brave and resourceful and a devoted family man to boot. Pious, moreover, without being in any way a religious bigot or self-righteous asshole or conversion-pusher. A grown-up Boy Scout with a magic sword.
Well from what I’ve read ( I’m up to Blood Rites ), the problem is if he wasn’t then his powers wouldn’t work. Or perhaps more accurately being that way IS his power ( this is a guy holy enough he can burn vampires by touch ). He gets to be one of the Knights of the Sword specifically because he’s so near-perfect. It’s a job qualification; out of billions of people it’s probably not that unlikely you can find three near-perfect ones.
One thing that bothers me about complaints about “Mary Sues”, is that it’s used to bash any attempts at creating larger-than-life heroes, and to bash the work of anyone who likes writing about extraordinary people. And the definition is about as firm as jelly. As for me; by my personal definition it doesn’t cross into “Mary Sue” territory unless the person in question ISN’T portrayed as extraordinary ( yet is somehow always right and loved by everyone anyway ), or if they are portrayed as extraordinary when they aren’t ( in other words, their enemies always act like idiots ).
I think it is possible to write a larger than life character without slipping over the edge into parody (Jamie Fraser of Outlander comes to mind.) It’s when the character has no flaws, has powers seemingly above mere mortals, and this fact is continually shoved down the reader’s throat, that I think defines a Mary Sue. John Coffee in The Green Mile was a Christ-like healer, but Stephen King didn’t shovel his holiness into the plot…he let the story and tragedy speak for itself.
