ᵃᵘᵗᵒ ▆▆ *♚ ↓ : need a hand?

Though I’ve taken up Lucifel’s mantel on numerous occasions, spread over a couple different online platforms over the years, this is perhaps his longest sustained run to date.  In truth, Lucifel doesn’t write particularly easily for me -- he isn’t one of those characters into whose head space I can slip with relative ease and just “ boogie with, ” so to speak -- but I find his character and concept so appealing that I’ve always been dragged back, despite the struggle of adequately penning him.

The difficulty stems from a few different factors.

Let’s start with narration.

For one thing, it’s difficult to pin down Lucifel’s “ allegorical/metaphoric aesthetic, ” so to speak.  Maybe there’s a proper literary term for this that I’m unaware of, but by “ allegorical ” or “ metaphoric ” aesthetic, I’m referring to the type of imagery and sort of ‘ mise en scene ’ set up by an author’s narration.  For example, if you’re writing about, say, King Henry VIII, perhaps you’d find your narration chalk full of ornate prose or florid language; hyperbole might not be inappropriate, and most metaphors would likely relate to items/concepts befitting a ‘ classical ’ era ( i.e., idk --  her smile was milk and honey -- chaste, maidenly.  it unfurled for him like an opening blossom, as if he were her sun.  but in her eyes he perceived the predatory keenness of a hunting hawk.  a dangerous woman, he thought.  a woman like mulled wine.  sweet, but meant to be taken in cautious, deliberate sips, lest ruin and a startling headache follow in the morning. )

On the other hand, if you’re writing about a struggling fry cook in modern America who deals a little blow on the side, your narration might turn out a little different.  Elegant prose might be switched out for a blunter, more gritty or ‘ modern ’  style; hyperbole, for slang; ostentation, for immediacy -- and it seems unlikely you’ll be comparing anyone to ‘mulled wine’ and ‘hunting hawks.’  ( maybe --  she had the smile of a kansas hopeful in hollywood; a charm that was more ‘little sister’ than ‘girl next door.’  he found himself staring at her neat white teeth; the dimple that screwed the left corner of her mouth into something a little tomboyish, despite her popstar pink lip gloss.  cute, he thought.  real cute.  but he knew the look in those eyes.  this girl was trouble.  she could layer on the popstar-pink as thick as she wanted, but trouble had a way of showing through. )

Different strokes for different folks; different styles for different characters.  Because ultimately, your narrative style reflects upon your character’s personality.  It’s just inevitable.

Lucifel poses the problem of being right in between a classical and modern character.  On the one hand, he’s an ancient & divine being who has roamed the universe since time immemorial, enforced the will of God Himself, and feasted on the mysteries of the universe -- all traits that suggest a ‘classical’ bent.  On the other hand, he’s a smooth talking spokesman in skinny jeans and spiked hair whose most prized possession is a cellphone, and who very consciously stands apart from the more classically portrayed angels in his series.

The dilemma this presents is how to maintain an air of divine power and ancient wisdom without sacrificing his modernity.  The beauty of his character is that he is ancient and divine, but that he does think of things differently  --  all that classical hyperbole and ‘ awe of god ’ filtered through a streamlined, modern prism.  An angel who would choose sleek aerodynamics over mythic wings; clean LED-crisp purity over soft golden radiance.  He’s an awe-inspiring, all powerful Angel of the Lord.  He’s also just a ‘ kinda cool guy. ’  Hitting the right narrative tone to illustrate this unique dichotomy is perhaps my greatest challenge, but it’s also key to his best characteristics.

(  Somewhere in this narrative melange, there’s also the concept of his divinity and the fact that I imagine many of his own thoughts/points of reference/general mindset/etc as not referring to human concepts at all.  I mean, why would an angel think in terms of earthly metaphors, and not in terms of concepts far beyond mortal comprehension?  But there’s not much more I can say about this at present.  I mean, hey, I’m only human.  )

There’s also the hurdle of differences in translation to address.

Though essentially the same, there are some fairly noteworthy differences between direct translations of Lucifel’s original Japanese dialogue and the official English dialogue.  The localization team did an awesome job with Lucifel’s lines, and I fell in love with his English dialogue completely, but there are some fun traits the Japanese dialogue highlights more clearly, which would be a shame to lose.

Primarily, the Japanese Lucifel is a bit more mercurial and abstruse.  He hems and haws, takes his time, seems to have a lot of ‘ well, how should i say this ... ’ and ‘ no, let me rephrase ’ and ‘ well, in a manner of speaking ... ’ thrown into his lines, and has a bit of a ‘ softer edge ’ than his slightly more brutal English counterpart.  English Lucifel is a lot more blunt ( ‘ seven angels have fallen to earth. big mistake. we’re gonna rip out their souls and imprison them here for all eternity. ’ ), and highlights his moral ambiguity and the precarious edge of holiness on which he totters closer and closer to his own fall. 

Blend, blend, blend is the key here, though it’s occasionally difficult to do so while maintaining dialogue that sounds ‘natural’ and ‘authentic.’  One of the best parts of Lucifel, after all, is that while he may occasionally lapse into angelic verse, he generally just sounds like your best pal shooting the breeze.

In any case, if you’ve read down this far, congratulations, you’ve won the grand prize ( reward pending ) !  But this is more or less just a long note to self to help facilitate my thoughts in approaching this character.   Clarifying these sorts of things in writing helps me stay organized, so don’t be surprised if they spring up on the dash from time to time.