Fictional Fathers of the Year

Literature is replete with awesome/horrifying/morally ambiguous fathers. Here are a few of the most intriguing one’s I’ve encountered in the past year. Most of them are no role models, certainly no Ward Cleavers are among them, but they all get high marks for pure entertainment-value.

Most Badass Father: Jim from Jeannette Walls Half Broke Horses: “An excellent marksman and horseman and a wrangler at age 14. He worked in Canada for a while but fell afoul of the Mounties for using his pistols a little to freely. He returned to Arizona and became a lumberjack and a homesteader…He joined the cavalry and, during the Great War, served in Siberia.” And from what I’ve read, Jim is still only about .25 as badass as his wife, Lily.

Noblest Father: Thomas Randall from Christopher Golden’s Strangewood: He risks insanity, death, and perpetual ensconement within a glob of peanut butter to save his comatose son.

Best Physicist Father: Mr. Murray from Madeline L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time: How many father’s can tesser through time and space? And yet, he is a lovingly imperfect father.

Most Unapologetic Alcoholic Father: Malachy McCourt of Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes: Should he spend the dole money on a casket for his baby daughter or on a Guinness? It’s a conundrum, apparently.

Most Sad-Sack Father: Thaddeus Lowe from Shane Jones’ Light Boxes: To be fair he is a sad-sack for very good reasons. His daughter has been kidnapped andit has been bitter cold February for hundreds of days.

Most Estranged Father: Lorenzo Brown from George Pelecanos’ Drama City: Brown hasn’t seen his daughter since he was arrested, and, Spoiler Alert, they are not reunited at the end of the novel.

Honorable Mentions: Mr. Brady from Edna O’Brien’s The Country Girls (another unapologetic alcoholic in Ireland); The Ghost of Aunt Fanny’s Father from Shirley Jackson’s The Sundial; Clive from Caryl Churchill’s Cloud 9 (authoritarian colonist, sexist, racist adulterer); Carthage Kilbride from Marina Carr’s By the Bog of Cats (a play based on Medea. Carthage=Jason. Need I say more? Oh, infanticide.)