We’ve all been there. We’ve said an unnecessarily unkind word, spurned a plea for help, inadvertently transformed the entire human race into shambling automatons under the control of an eldritch abomination. Such errors are so commonplace as to be beneath discussion. More interesting is the question “What next?” Vow to avoid such missteps in the future? Do you try to make amends? Simply embrace villainy and move into a skull-shaped mountain lair?
The possibilities are vast. Here are five works exploring some of those myriad possibilities…1
Swamp Thing #1 by Len Wein and Bernie Wrightson (1972)
The American government values Alec and Linda Holland’s bio-restorative research. Thus, the converted barn deep in a swamp to which Lt. Matthew Cable delivers the two scientists. The isolated location and regular police patrols will keep the Hollands and their precious research safe from malevolent organizations like the Conclave.
A Conclave bomb sends a flaming Alec to his death in the nearby swamp. In his place rises the plant-man Swamp Thing, a monstrous figure imbued with Alec’s brilliant mind. Linda is the next victim, gunned down by the Conclave. To Cable, there is only one possible conclusion: Alec (who was blown up and set on fire) and Linda (who was shot) must have been murdered by the Swamp Thing (who eschews technology). Cable failed to protect the Hollands, but he can at least dedicate himself to seeking revenge (however misguided) in their name.
Some readers might wonder about the logic that led Cable to blame Swamp Thing for the Hollands’ deaths. Again: The Swamp Thing doesn’t use technology… not even pants. What I wonder is why Cable kept Linda out at the barn lab after the bombing, given that the location was clearly not secret.
Carrie by Stephen King (1974)
Carrie White is an unattractive, weird loner. Fellow high school student Sue Snell does not hesitate to join in when the popular Chris Hargensen provokes a crowd of girls to mock a traumatized Carrie in the school showers. Only after P.E. teacher Miss Desjardin berates the bullies does Sue realize that she was, to quote that famous sketch, one of the baddies.
Sue resolves to make amends. Sue arranges for her boyfriend Tommy to take Carrie to the upcoming high school prom. Sue and Tommy’s gesture delivers a brief moment of happiness to miserable Carrie. Unfortunately, it also provides mean girl Chris with an opportunity to take revenge on Carrie for Carrie’s part in getting Chris punished.
People who have only seen the DePalma film might be surprised that the novel makes it clear very early in the book that the prom did not go well. The dramatic tension doesn’t arise from the sudden veer into horror as Chris discovers why bullying Carrie is a bad idea. It comes from watching how choices—some benevolent, some not—line up to produce the calamity the reader knows is coming.
Daggerspell by Katharine Kerr (1986)
Despite not knowing her name or precise location, ancient mage Nevyn takes a peculiar interest in finding Jill. Swordswoman Jill hails from the kingdom of Deverry. By the time Nevyn finds her, she is romantically entangled with feudal lord Rhodry. The arrangement between highborn Rhodry and lowborn Jill is a familiar one. Only Nevyn knows that there’s much more to the story.
Centuries ago, Nevyn had to leave his one true love Brangwen behind when Nevyn was exiled by his magic-hating father. The result, thanks to Brangwen’s unsavory brother Gerraent, was carnage. Worse yet, reincarnation means old mistakes can repeat themselves. Jill is Brangwen reborn. Can the old mage make up for his well-intended misstep? Or is Jill’s fate already determined?
A question neither asked nor answered, as far as I can tell: is the Nevyn-Brangwen-Gerraent tragedy the first iteration of this doomed story, or just the first iteration in living memory? Reincarnation means this story could have been repeating itself for thousands of years.
Numamushi: A Fairy Tale by Mina Ikemoto Ghosh (2023)
Years ago, the great river snake loved a human woman. The romance ended in madness and murder. Therefore, when the snake saw a burned human child float by, he did not eat the infant. The snake rescued the baby, named him Numamushi, and raised the boy as best he could2.
Back when he was a priest, Mizukiyo cajoled young men into joining a pointless war. A surprise inheritance—a mansion abandoned for years after gruesome murders—allowed Mizukiyo to hide from the world. Nevertheless, he is happy to befriend the odd boy, Numamushi. Through no intent of his own, Mizukiyo is the old snake’s doom. How can the former priest make amends for making Numamushi an orphan?
I know snakes are not known for their parenting skills, but the great snake is an unusual snake, perhaps even a local god of sorts. In any case, the book’s title does say it’s “A Fairy Tale,” which allows for some liberties with herpetology.
The Transitive Properties of Cheese by Ann LeBlanc (2024)
Years ago, Millions Wayland’s attempt to fend off a terrestrial bid to limit multies—duplicated minds and bodies—in space as they were on Earth resulted in disaster and mass carnage. Appalled, Wayland retreated from the world. Wayland found contentment as a hermit cheesemaker3.
News that the orbital facility in which Wayland cures her artisanal cheeses is scheduled for destruction forces Wayland to reengage with the world. Her intention is to convince business associate Miller to save her precious facility. Instead, Wayland is caught up in a struggle over the fate of the community that Wayland had inadvertently hurt years earlier.
Sometimes inspiration for these pieces is nebulous. In this case, it was reading The Transitive Properties of Cheese that made me ponder the problem of making amends. More specifically, it was the friction between guilt-stricken Wayland and supporting character Hattie, who thinks Wayland should leave the past to the past.
These are, of course, only five works. Entire libraries are filled with tales about people facing their pasts and trying to make amends. If I overlooked your favorite, please mention it in comments below.
- I considered mentioning 2008’s Ironman movie, but discussing it led me to rant about specific subset of making amends stories, in which the protagonist is lavishly praised for solving problems entirely of their own creation. That sort of thing deserves its own essay. ↩︎
- Numamushi picks up a number of abilities that strictly speaking are the domain of snakes (for basic physiological reasons). Like DC Comics hero Black Condor learning to fly after being adopted by condors, this is a triumph of environment over heredity. ↩︎
- Which is to say, a hermit who makes cheese. Not someone who makes cheese out of hermits. ↩︎
I bet if this was about revenge, I’d have a dozen comments by now :)
I wonder if it’s because people don’t like to read about things that make them question what sort of apologies they need to make in their own lives. “Taste justice, evildoer! “ is just so much more satisfying than “Sorry I was a jerk, what can I do?” Especially when there might not be anything you CAN do.
Something like this…? https://reactormag.com/sweet-revenge-five-works-featuring-vendettas/
Exactly! It got over 50 comments!
“Five retellings of The Count Of Monte Cristo” …
As a three decade member of AA I’m aware that making amends is *not* just apologizing. It’s repairing the damage of one’s actions. It requires a change. It also requires not making things worse.
Unfortunately it is the nature of the typical fictional protagonist to make things so very much worse….
That’s not too different from non-fiction though. I have *stories*.
Only in volume one and two of the trilogy! Sometimes things get better in the third.
Much later (publishing-order-wise) in the Deverry cycle, there’s at least one flashback to even earlier events involving the same familiar souls. (Here’s an absurd joke: The Great Internal Chronology Order Deverry Reread.)
The description of “Daggerspell” (1986) reminds me of aspects of British author Alan Garner’s “The Owl Service” (1967) which may be considered “spoilers” for that story. Maybe both are borrowing from the Mabinogion and other legends from Wales.
In “The Owl Service”, the spirit of Blodeuwedd, an ancient legendary woman created from flowers and ultimately transformed to an owl after arranging for her lover to murder her husband, apparently has a habit of possessing a living woman to cause a re-enactment of the story, and in Wales in 1967 she is doing it yet again.
I suppose, technically, Robert Silverberg’s “Majipoor” novels touch on this, in that, at the end of the third book, the human aristocrats who run the planet do – oh, so graciously! – allow the native inhabitants to have some say in the government. I mean, it’s some compensation for historical injustices… I suppose. The “Majipoor” books do rather push my “oh no, not more bleedin’ aristos” buttons, though.
More salubriously, Barry Hughart’s Bridge of Birds revolves around the righting of an injustice so grave that it literally cries out to Heaven for redress.
First thing that came to my mind was the Earthsea Trilogy by LeGuin — in both the first book and the third book Ged is fixing stuff the he, himself, broke.
Robert Silverberg’s absolutely brilliant 1969 novel Downward to the Earth is about one man’s endeavor to do just this, and the roles played in the book by the very indigenous aliens he wronged is deeply satisfying. If this book is now largely-forgotten, that is certainly not warranted.
It’s been a while since I read the Deverry books, but my recollection is that it does indeed end badly, over and over again
‘Wheel of the Infinite’ by Martha Wells. Senior priest Maskelle misinterpreted a vision and it led to civil war. Maskelle was cursed and exiled but now her help is needed. At least that’s what Maskelle think happened at the start, but maybe it is more complicated
‘Toadling’ by T Kingfisher – Toadling was supposed to deliver a spell at a changeling’s christening but in the midst of an emotional shock, gets it wrong and then spends centuries trying to mitigate the harm
Miles Vorkosigan does try to make amends for his errors from time to time – though it often takes some effort to convince him that he’s done wrong (he never quite seems to figure out that he owes Vorberg, or that he’s responsible for unleashing Bothari on an innocent pilot). At least his apology to Ekaterin was good.
Miles does realize that he unleashed Bothari, if memory serves, but doesn’t think about it that long.
There’s Louise Cooper’s Indigo series, in which a spoiled princess unleashes a bunch of demons on the world, and has to Walk The Earth to put them back.
Daggerspell and the whole following cycle (which is complete) is one of my favorite fantasy series and is not nearly well known enough. The reincarnation conceit is done quite well and allows characters to change over time in interesting ways while also showing how the politics and composition of the fantasy kingdom changes along with them. The cycle is 15 books long, which can look daunting, but the individual books are not as long as those in other epic series. Plus the cycle is broken down into arcs of 3 to 4 books so there are natural break points. The first couple of books do have some clumsiness and outdated views, but that gets much better as the series progresses and overall these books have some of the best female fantasy characters I’ve seen (also Nevyn is always great). The summary might sound a bit romancey but overall the romance takes a back seat to other aspects of the story and is hardly ever the primary motivation for characters and events.
Paladin of Souls
The Constant Rabbit
‘Knife Children’ by Lois McMaster Bujold springs to mind.
What does a secret father do when he finds out his child has run away from her mother’s home? Especially since she may be coming into her magic… magic that her mother’s culture fears. Especially when the girl has _no idea_ that the man she has called Papa for fourteen years is not her real dad.
It’s been a while since I read it, and it doesn’t get included much because of it’s author’s awful opinions, but doesn’t Ender Wiggin spend the rest of his life trying to atone for what he did as a child in Ender’s War?
His Alvin Maker series has a lot of people behaving badly, but it’s been so long since I read it I don’t remember a lot of atonement
I was amused to be asked if I were under 18 years old, given that I haven’t been under 18 since mid-October, 1972. (Sigh — grammar check, “I were” is proper if what one has written is contrary to fact, at least in American English.)
I just finished rereading Julian May’s Boreal Saga.
When it comes to making amends, Ullanoth comes to mind.