Characters and the Uncanny Valley; or, Why I Really Like Heathcliff

The uncanny valley is a phenomenon where we feel discomforted by something just falling short of looking human. The uncanny valley is inhabited by zombies... and Michael Jackson. But I repeat myself.

Let me start off by saying that Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte has turned out to be a much more interesting read than I thought it would be. In contrast to romance stories like Romeo and Juliet where the romance is sickly sweet and torrid, the romance between Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw actually feels very cold, and I think Emily Bronte did a very good job of portraying all the dark emotions that passion can spawn. Emotions like hatred and envy. It is a dark romance story, and I respect it for that.

Today, our discussion of Wuthering Heights in English class went over two things. The characters and cultural literacy. While most of the discussion about cultural literacy and literary canon went over my head, it did get me thinking about characters now compared to characters in the past. The discussion about characters was basically about how much the class hated a bunch of characters because they were unrealistic and too stock character-like. 

Say what again.

I don't want to offend or anger anyone... but I find that a little ridiculous. In a generation that has seen Bella Swan and Batman, a robot and a much larger than life character respectively, the cast of Wuthering Heights is, by leaps and bounds, far more realistic than the characters we follow today (and just to be clear, I don't hate Batman, I like Batman. Bella Swan... not so much.). My point is that our generation does not have a problem with unrealistic characters or scenarios. Unrealistic characters are the par for the course in every form of media today. Whether it's Master Chief from the Halo video game series, Katniss Everdeen in the Hunger Games or Jules Winnfield (the character played by Samuel L. Jackson) in Pulp Fiction.

In Wuthering Heights, we have a man who fancies himself an introvert, despite clearly not being one and being taken aback when he meets a real one. We have a manservant whose faith in god leads him to condemn everyone else to hellfire, simply so he can deal with his fear that he himself might not be worthy. We have a rich kid who is used to the world being the way he likes it, but is so insecure that that might fall down around his ears; and we have his wife playing at being the aristocracy, trying to both keep her closest childhood friend close while also trying to distance herself from the low that he represents. And of course we have Heathcliff, who loves Catherine, and can only watch as she moves away from him, with him powerless to catch up because society dictates that his place was not at her side. So he simply rejects humanity as a whole. All of these characters have very real hopes, real fears and real problems. Very human problems. The problem isn't that they aren't realistic. I think the real reason people hate these characters is that they simply fall short of the realism we need to be comfortable with them.

This is the phenomenon known as the uncanny valley. It is a very prevalent problem for video game developers, and it's clear to me now that it's not just video games that experience this phenomenon but all forms of art, be it movies, paintings, TV shows, novels or comic books. 

This video explains the uncanny valley better than I can really, but if you don't want to take the seven minutes to learn about video game theory, I won't hold it against you. The history of the uncanny valley is that there was a maker of robots some time in the past, and he decided to give his robots more human features. He found that giving these robots some features actually made people think they were cute. However, as he added more facial features to his robots and gave them facial expressions as well, people began to see them not as more appealing, but repulsive and grotesque. This led to the formation of the theory of the uncanny valley. The curve at the top is a representation of the uncanny valley, basically as you start adding features there is a lot of appeal and familiarity, and when you have something that spot on resembles a human, there is a lot of appeal. But along the line, appeal takes a drastic drop when there are a certain amount of human characteristics that makes what we are looking at seem human-ish, but something seems off. We recognize that the thing in front of us is playing at being human, but it doesn't quite achieve the semblance, and we become repulsed by the much more noticeable non-human characteristics.

He barely looks human... and we don't care.

That is the uncanny valley, falling short of the realism expected. There are a lot of examples I can think of from video games, like the afore mentioned Master Chief from the Halo universe, who has a lot of appeal even though he looks nothing like a human. He occupies the left side of the curve, the side with just enough human characteristics to make what we look at relatable, but few enough that it doesn't throw a glaring spotlight on his non-human characteristics, characteristics that would repel us. The same could be said of Nintendo's star character Mario. And as PCs and consoles become more advanced, we can expect to see more developers try to go for the realistic side of the curve, the one with high fidelity to real life. We see blockbusters like Call of Duty try for that side of the curve a lot.

These are scary...

But not as scary as these guys...

But at the same time there are very good examples of falling into the uncanny valley. I could cite more examples from video games, but I'm going to go ahead and talk about the Walking Dead instead because it raises a point that will be important a little later on. Zombies (or should I say roamers?) are an obvious example of the uncanny valley at work. Shuffling around in various states of decay, their human features only serve to highlight the grotesqueness of their appearance, right from the first time we see them we think, "That is not natural." And they become unnerving because of that. But even more unnerving than the roamers are some of the humans that Rick and co. encounter in their search for a single moment of peace. People like the Governor or Negan. They are human, they look human, they look normal. But their sadistic nature is repulsive, and the fact that they look like humans only serves to make their acts all the more horrifying. It is disturbing to watch them carry out their acts of cruelty because they aren't grotesque and different like the roamers. They are human, they are us. They don't fall into the uncanny valley because of their outward appearance, but because of their inward grotesqueness. But here is that point I wanted to go over: this isn't an accident. The writers didn't accidentally make the zombies revolting, or the Governor or Negan's presence uncomfortable. They wanted them to be disquieting, they wanted them to be menacing, they wanted them to be grotesque. The uncanny valley isn't inherently evil, it can be a very effective tool used in the right hands.


We see that with the Southern Gothic genre as well, and with authors like Flannery O'Connor. The Misfit (among other characters) from "A Good Man Is Hard to Find" falls into the uncanny valley because, despite his being the quintessential Southern gentleman of good parentage and stock, he is a killer. Those gentlemanly characteristics of The Misfit only serve to highlight that stark fact. It creates the grotesque convolution that the Gothic genre is known for.

So what does this have to do with hating the characters of Wuthering Heights? Well, my belief is that people are simply repulsed by these characters falling into the uncanny valley. It is true that these characters are, to a point, exaggerated, melodramatic. But I'm not quite prepared to chalk that up to the medium of the novel being in its infancy at the time. After all, video games are in their infancy, and we have gotten a lot a very good games that present poignant social commentary and/or moral dilemmas. Games like Bioshock Infinite, Dishonored or Papers, Please. A medium being in its infancy doesn't mean that it has to make missteps. I'm more inclined to believe that these characters are falling into the uncanny valley. It feels like characters like Catherine or Joseph or Edgar are a caricature of being human, a shadow, a parody. Their humanity only accentuates those disconcerting characteristics, Catherine's vanity, Joseph's... well, Joseph, and Edgar's insecurity and foppishness. But as I said before, you don't have to necessarily be stumbling into the uncanny valley. It's entirely possible, I'd even wager likely, that Emily Bronte intended for her characters to fall into that valley. To use that repulsion a reader would feel at these characteristics to highlight them, to comment on them, to create discourse by making us do a double take as we read. In other words, you're meant to hate them, but don't hate them because they are unrealistic; hate them because, at the end of the day, they are hateable people. They represent the dark emotions that come with passion, emotions that all people are susceptible to, love is a double edged sword.

And that brings me to why I like Heathcliff. When I tell people I like Heathcliff, the general response is, "he broods too much." I will grant that. However, the reason I like Heathcliff is because I can sympathize with him, personally speaking. I can understand him, the pain of unattainablity. He kind of reminds me of myself. I have been described as cold, cruel, merciless and just straight out mean by the people I respect the most. Does that hurt? No, not really. But I can at least understand who Heathcliff is and why he is what he is. He becomes a real person for me, and so he doesn't fall into the uncanny valley, he sits on the right side of the curve, having attained a state of verisimilitude his companions fall short of.

I still hate Catherine Earnshaw though.