When Evil Goes Full Goblin: Writing Villains Who Creep (Not Creep Out) Your Readers
Ah, Daniel Quilp, one of Charles Dickens’ nastiest creations—a character so grotesque, he gives all other villains a run for their malevolent money. In The Old Curiosity Shop, Dickens seems to have spun pure nastiness into human form, or, more accurately, into a grinning, hobgoblin-like troll with a penchant for sadism. Quilp is a fascinating study in villainy gone wild, and writers of fiction can learn a lot from this chain-smoking, lecherous little terror. Let’s dive into what makes him memorable (and when it becomes a bit too memorable) and how you, dear writer, can use—or restrain—your inner Quilp.
Quilp 101: How to Make Cruelty Creepily Entertaining
First things first: there’s no denying Quilp’s got flair. He’s the kind of character who relishes every moment of inflicting misery, and Dickens leans into it. There’s a sick satisfaction in watching a villain who knows he’s evil and laughs maniacally anyway. Whether it’s torturing poor Little Nell and her grandfather or gleefully terrorizing anyone who crosses his path, Quilp is Dickens dialing the villainy knob up to eleven and then breaking it off.
For writers, Quilp is a masterclass in character distinctiveness. He’s no generic baddie—his grotesque mannerisms, hobbling gait, and malicious giggles make him a visual and psychological spectacle. Want readers to remember your villain? Make them uniquely, unforgettably creepy. Let your evil-doer live, if only in the minds of readers—and maybe in their nightmares.
Beware: The Line Between Compelling and Cringe
And yet, herein lies the problem. Quilp’s theatrics can turn him into a caricature. There’s a risk of taking things so far that the character stops being a believable embodiment of human darkness and becomes something of a Saturday morning cartoon villain who’s just missing his handlebar mustache to twirl.
Sure, Dickens was all about spectacle, but if you’re crafting your own villain, beware of venturing too deep into the Quilp Zone. Real, lasting evil isn’t just about cackling over metaphorical flames. The darkest villains are often unnervingly realistic. They wield power through subtlety, manipulation, and that unsettling chill they leave behind. By contrast, Quilp sometimes makes readers roll their eyes at the sheer quantity of his nastiness—kind of like when you taste a dish and think, “Really, more chili powder?”
Don’t Kill the Cat… Unless You Can Sell It.
A memorable villain must toe the line of cruelty without leaping so far across it that they’re irredeemable, even in readers’ eyes. Quilp delights in the abuse of power and physical intimidation, but his over-the-top antics can desensitize readers. The lesson here? If you make your villain too relentlessly awful, they’ll slip into cartoonishness—and lose some of their chilling edge.
Consider those unforgettable moments when Quilp is creeping around like a twisted imp. He’s effective when readers hate him, but still believe in him as a threat. When he leans into comical excess, the terror fades, replaced by disbelief. Every villain has to walk the fine line between terrifying and absurd. Make sure yours aren’t accidentally auditioning for a circus act of evil.
Humanize Your Monster—Just a Little
This is where Dickens may have let us down—or, depending on your taste for moral grotesques, maybe not. Quilp doesn’t just lack redeeming qualities; he lacks anything approaching a complex motivation. He’s more “chaos for chaos’ sake.” While that’s delightfully theatrical, it risks flattening the character.
A good villain makes readers uncomfortable because they can almost understand their motivations. Quilp is a caricature of concentrated cruelty. A dash of sympathy, or a touch of humanizing vulnerability, can make villains far more interesting than a relentless storm of malevolence. Consider giving your evil character an extra layer—a conflicted choice, a tragic backstory, or even a surprising restraint—just enough to make them multidimensional.
Quilp as Cautionary Tale (and Snide Inspiration)
To be clear, Quilp is unforgettable, and Dickens knew how to wield him with delicious excess. But for writers today, he’s a case study in extremes. Use him to remind yourself how much is too much when it comes to villainy. Make your villains distinct, let them dance on the edge of cruelty—but keep them compelling. Too much Quilp, and you might find readers laughing when you hoped they’d be trembling.
So take a note from Dickens’ playbook: Villains who go “full goblin” are fun, but don’t let them jump all the way off the page and start doing high kicks with their own malice. Too much, and even the stoniest hearts might find themselves chuckling, just like Oscar Wilde at Little Nell’s fate.
The Snark
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