Protagonist

There is a phrase, "hero of the story" which, in literature classes, is generally replaced with the term protagonist.  Of course, not all main characters are heroes - nor even likeable - and so we have to find a better option.

Clovis has many of the makings of a hero, and I did not write him as a villain - but he's hardly Dudley Do-Right.

Around Clovis cluster certain legends - there are those which cast him as a rapacious Barbarian (oh good lord, the whole BARBARIAN slur and bigotry ...), and at least as much hagiography, in memory of a practically legendary king, in memory of the Christian king, in honor of the father of France.

Then, of course, there are the howlers about the Merovingian Dynasty, which he founded.  The less said the better, there - if you look at the link, it's been done.

I don't know how many authors sit down with an ax to grind (for those who even get that pun ... my apologies), but I don't have the ability to write with any sort of didactic point in mind.  I'm not that convinced of my rectitude, for one, but mostly I don't care to get into arguments - and didactic writing begs for that dang guitarist to get noisy.

I also don't concentrate well on whitewashing a character.  The ones who approach me aren't necessarily nice people - but they do seem to be endowed with much that's worthwhile.  I can't make a hero out of a bad guy - I don't have any urge to - but to invite a character into my brain, there's got to be an attraction.


We know that Clovis was capable of spectacular violence.

Regardless of the sainted memory of Clotilde's conversion of her spouse and king to Catholicism, history appears open to the idea that his spiritual choices were at least partially politically motivated.

He appears to have been a continent husband, but family history is sometimes considered to be wildly bloody.  Even the saint herself is said to have incited her sons to hideous revenge on an uncle said to have murdered her own family.

History is, as it always is, loaded with contradiction and the fascination of pretty spectacular wickedness.  This is a part of what makes parts of it, and players within it, so interesting - and which also feeds the modern sense of superiority we so enjoy when looking down on things like Barbarians, the Dark Ages, medieval violence, even the learning of the past.

It's also loaded with protagonists we sometimes apologize for.


I don't apologize for Clovis.  I do present some of those familial crimes without the prejudice of a middle-aged, middle-class white broad with excesses of privilege, looking backward at a man whose power - whatever his personality - is without question.  I hope I provide a view of him without the mask of either violent legend or glowing sycophancy.  I hope he's as compelling outside my head as he has been for me for so long now - for good and ill, for feeling and wit, for what he did, and for even his failings.