Spoilers for Mike Carey’s Lucifer (2000), Paul Jenkin’s Inhumans (1998), Swamp Thing Vol 2. (1984) and Hellblazer: Constantine.

There’s something fascinating in watching intricate and complex plans get executed to perfection. Something captivating about watching all the pieces come together to end in a masterstroke.

Chessmasters always have an objective and a plan to achieve it. They will make any gamble and sacrifice anyone necessary to complete that objective. In a pursuit of glory, money and power, the chessmaster villain has such control that the metaphorical pieces don’t even know they’re in the game. That’s what makes the chessmaster so dangerous. And terrifying.

But what about when the chessmaster is the hero of the story?

When we read a story where the chessmaster is a protagonist, our perspective has to shift. These characters make appalling sacrifices and take terrible risks throughout their stories. A likable and well-developed side character will, often unwillingly, become collateral damage as the hero makes their play to finish the game. How can we, the audience, appreciate and encourage such a ruthlessness? With a strong thematic character hook, that’s how.

In Mike Carey’s Lucifer series, the fallen angel Lucifer is obsessed with escaping predestination. He isn’t interested in people, souls, morality, or anything at all. Nothing except resenting an existence that anticipates every action he could possibly take.

So Lucifer finally devises a plan that he thinks will achieve his goal. Goading a bloody war with heaven and rescuing God’s demiurge, Micheal, Lucifer manages to create his own universe, a universe without destiny. When Micheal asks him what this new universe is for, Lucifer responds, “The culmination of all my efforts. The end of predestination. The end of tyranny. I have escaped providence.”

Then in Paul Jenkins’ Inhuman miniseries, the xenophobic Inhuman city of Attilan is under attack and their society roils from internal dissent stirred by the madman Maximus. The thematic line through the story is Black Bolt, the Inhuman leader, and his struggles as a ruler. Black Bolt is forced to constantly make decisions that cost lives and endanger his people. Silent and stoic, his inner monologue occasionally interjects the story to confront us with questions of how we might deal with the events of the story.

On the eve of defeat, Black Bolt’s plan is revealed- to bait the interlopers into a massive attack and stage a natural disaster that both forces back the invading army and falsifies the destruction of Attilan. The Inhumans are now hidden from the world and safe from interference.

Black Bolt has been holding all the cards the whole time but has sacrificed many lives to his end. The story closes with Black Bolt’s final question for the audience: “Imagine that you could save a family by sacrificing a child, but that you had to explain it to the child… What would you say?”

From the other side, Hellblazer explores what being a callous chessmaster can do to a person. In the pages of Swamp Thing (Alan Moore, 1984), John Constantine organizes a group of magical superhumans and entities in a bid to prevent the end of the world. While eventually successful, Constantine orders and then watches as many of his friends and comrades are killed in this battle.

In Hellblazer, Constantine struggles with the guilt of his decisions. Perhaps he had the best of intentions. Perhaps he didn’t really believe they would die. Or perhaps he just thought he could take it if they did.

Alcoholism, depression, and self-destructive tendencies plague Constantine wherever he goes and whatever he does. More battles rise and more friends fall into the pyre. As Constantine notes, “Getting too close to me can be bad for your health. I’m radioctive.”

A trope is what a writer makes of it. Strong motivations and character explorations can elevate stories and the tropes they use. Used well, tropes help us explore facets of story and human nature in dynamic and interesting ways. The Chessmaster is no different. Lucifer, Black Bolt, and Constantine might be chessmasters, but that’s just the lense by which we can examine their struggles with destiny, leadership, and guilt.

This is Andrew’s final blog post for Genre Savvy Grab Bag. You can read Andrew’s other blogposts here, here, and here!

Andrew Gilvary

Andrew is a former graduate of the University of Ottawa where he got his B.A. with a Major in English Literature. He enjoys doing nerdy things and cuddling his cat.