To Get Even

Chapter summary. Mark Edmundson begins this chapter by stating that fiction is one of the most popular ways to get even. Take Philip Roth, for example: after his divorce from Claire Bloom was finalized, Claire penned a book detailing Philip’s shortcomings and personality flaws. Feeling injured and wronged, Philip, of course, sought revenge. He wrote his own book in response—a novel in which Claire Bloom became Eve Frame. Although less direct, this novel, says Edmundson, gave him just the right amount of revenge. Edmundson goes on to say that book reviewers—some of the most vindictive people in the world—write scathing reviews because they are frustrated by their own talent or lack thereof. They love to make those with true talent suffer; that's their way of getting even. But some writers fight back against these reviewers to exact their counter-revenge. “The nasty reviewers and the whole unpleasant establishment can be a goad,” says Edmundson, “—maybe even an inspiration” (63).

An introduction. Revenge is sweet and delicious. Everyone knows that. Although writing to get even may not be as noble as writing to elevate mankind, it does have its benefits. When we feel slighted or injured, getting even through writing can help us patch up the holes left in our egos; it lets us rectify a situation that seems unfair to us. Like Claire Bloom and Philip Roth, many writers indeed have sought revenge through fiction. They create an elaborate story detailing—though perhaps not too intricately—their situation, changing names and details so as not to be excessively straightforward. But to those involved, the jab is obvious. To me, this method of revenge comes from a calmer type of anger. It’s the premeditated murder of revenge writing. The author could simply confront his or her adversary head-on with a phone call or email to resolve the feud, but they prefer instead to go the extra mile for the sweetest, saltiest revenge possible. They organize, draft, and edit until their composition is like a finely crafted blade—and that blade cuts deep. But is fiction really the most common way to get even, as Edmundson says? A large portion of his chapter seems to promote this claim, but I would beg to differ. There’s a lot that Edmundson gets right. There’s no denying it. However, he ignores several other vital forms of writing that have come to popularity today. Therefore, I would like to make some additions.

Modern-day revenge writing. Here’s a personal story. During my senior year of high school, I had what some might loosely deem a bully. The tall, awkward red-head with wire-frame glasses was in my P.E. class and always seemed to have something to say about my shitty basketball skills. “Oh no,” he would groan to his equally snarky little sidekick when Mr. B put me on his team. “Not her. Not that bitch. Guess we should get ready to lose.” The thing is, his unnecessarily harsh insults were never delivered to me directly. They were spoken several yards away with just enough volume to ensure that I heard them, but just quietly enough to produce a veil of obscurity for him to hide behind. Put lightly, this young man’s blatant snobbiness burned me up inside. From the sidelines, teeth gritted and eyes burning with what could have easily become tears if I had let them, I watched in contempt as he lumbered around the court like an oaf; he twirled and stumbled and hopped and sashayed, truly believing himself graceful. In reality, though, his posture and gait resembled that of a prehistoric reptile, and it infuriated me. But what was I—a shy, delicate little lass with debilitating social anxiety—to do? How could I get back at him for all of his wrongdoings?

I turned to Facebook, of course. I had to make sure everyone knew that I did not care at all, not one bit about what this unruly adolescent said about me, even though I secretly did care—a lot. I clicked on the status update bar and pondered for a moment, fuming. Inspiration soon struck. “It doesn't insult me when you trash talk me,” I typed furiously and with sadism, “mostly because you look like a velociraptor. And it’s hilarious.” Ha, that'll show him! We aren't Facebook friends so he can't see this and I didn't mention his name or even the context of the situation, but that'll show him! I genuinely felt vindicated by this petty and immature little status update; it got seven likes (a personal record for me at the time) and as a result I felt like the ultimate badass. Vaguebooking was my newfound therapy—it took my passive aggression to entirely new heights. Revenge was directly under my fingertips.

As it turns out, the human race can get pretty creative when it comes to exacting revenge. With today’s technology, vengeance is just a click or a tap away. It’s almost impossible to scroll through any given social media outlet without stumbling across some sort of inflammatory remark or aggressive exchange. People love to air their dirty laundry. Publicity is a very common and important component of revenge, after all. If you have a problem with someone, you can simply call them out in a social media post for everyone to see. One of my personal favorite scenarios is logging on to Facebook and seeing someone’s passive-aggressive status update with a reply from the accused directly underneath reading “Maybe you should tag me next time.” Classic.

But revenge doesn’t stop at Facebook. The same concept applies to Twitter, Instagram, and etcetera. Of these more popular platforms, though, I’ve noticed that Twitter’s revenge-seekers are by far the harshest. With that 140-character limit, there’s no room for beating around the bush. The bloodthirst comes in small doses—but they’re potent. This platform has made it extremely simple for people all over the world to connect with each other, and the app itself is centered around sharing and discussing. With this in mind, there’s bound to be some disagreements. The most prominent examples of Twitter revenge that come to mind involve celebrities—after all, they have enormous followings. After having publicly criticized President Donald Trump, J.K. Rowling received quite a bit of backlash from angry fans, with one in particular vowing to burn their collection of Rowling’s books and DVDs. Rowling’s response? “Well, the fumes from the DVDs might be toxic and I've still got your money, so by all means borrow my lighter” (@jk_rowling). Revenge seekers, take note.

And it’s not limited to these types of social media, either—just take a look at pretty much any restaurant or retail store’s online reviews. There, things get ugly just as quickly. The universally accepted idea that the customer is always right can be a blessing or a curse depending on which side of the employee/customer relationship you’re on. Unfortunately for the harrowed retail or fast-food worker, this policy gives some customers a sort of sadistic power rush as soon as they step through those automatic doors or roll up to the drive-thru speaker. An expired coupon is grounds for verbal abuse and merciless beration. One misplaced condiment can turn into a good cop/bad cop-style interrogation. But it’s what happens afterwards that deals the real blow. The unsatisfied customer, still broiling in anger, logs on to Yelp, leaves a bad rating and scathing review, and presses submit. Just like that, he or she has publicly exposed this terrible injustice to the innocent, unsuspecting general public in hopes of deterring their patronage from the unsatisfactory establishment. This harsh system is a great way for corporations to monitor and improve their businesses, but it leaves room for some petty stuff. Things often get blown way out of proportion.

And then there’s the infamous Topix.com. This website is home to some of the most vile comments (and people) around. But what is it that makes its users sink so low? Well, the short answer is anonymity. With no threat of repercussions, users can say whatever they want about whomever they want. The result is utter chaos. If you don’t like someone or they’ve wronged you in some way, Topix gives you the perfect platform to drag their name through the mud—but be careful. Topix revenge is the epitome of immaturity. I do not recommend it.

Getting even in private. But is publicity necessary in order to get even? Edmundson does not address this idea. However, I firmly believe that it is entirely possible to get even privately. Throughout my own life, I’ve used personal diaries to get even with people and the world in general, recording my deepest thoughts and feelings with no intention of anyone seeing them. These journals, like I said, are strictly for my eyes only. (Hypothetically, if someone were to look at them without my permission, I wouldn’t hesitate to make a real doozie of a Topix post about them.) Diaries are meant to be private and no-holds-barred. That’s what makes them so effective.

When I vent my negative emotions into a journal, they lose some of their power over me. There's something therapeutic about dragging those thoughts out of the brain and wrestling them down onto a piece of paper. Instead of floating out of control through the mind, they’re now captured and immobilized within the pages before you. Letters are highly effective, too; just address it to the person, pour your heart out into it, really let them have it—and then crumple it up and throw it in the trash. It offers much of the satisfaction with none of the confrontation. No matter how unfair, grievous, or vulgar the wound inflicted, writing about it can help make sense of it all.

After returning from rehab for a devastating drug addiction, someone very close to me detailed some of his most influential experiences there. His eyes widened with an air of urgency—no longer cloudy and soulless as they were before—as he described to me the letter that his counselor had him write during his stay. It was a letter to his addiction. With the withdrawals having passed and his head clear and free again, he realized how deeply he had hurt those he loved the most. He wrote about all of the time and friendships he had lost, the endless state of pathetic desperation that the drugs had cemented him into, and most importantly, the pure and unfaltering apathy that resulted from it. He was angry at himself, but also angry at Addiction. He gave the cruel mistress a piece of his mind, and now she was the one at his mercy.

Addiction is not a sentient being, though, no matter the metaphor you apply to it; it could not read that letter. But the exhilaration of confronting such a thing despite this fact was enough reason to write it. It brought motivation. It brought solace. It allowed for pent-up regret and anger to be purged. The fact that writing had had such an impact on this loved one surprised me. He had never had any interest whatsoever in writing before—not even before his addiction began. But suddenly, he was discovering exactly how therapeutic putting a pen to paper could be. He glanced at the ground. “I wish you could have read it,” he said. “I think it was really good. I made it sort of poetic.”

I was a bit speechless at those words, shaken not only by the thought of this man composing something artistic and meaningful—something completely out of character for him—but also by the look of peace on the now-vibrant face before me. The evidence of his revelation was palpable. In that moment, my mind wandered back to our summer evenings as kids playing Mario Party 7 on the GameCube together, a quote from old Toadsworth—one that has always stuck with me—emblazoned on the screen: “I’m happy as a mad poet” (Nintendo 2005). I didn’t understand it the first time I saw it, but a few years later—when I was a little bit older and wiser—it began to make sense. Because when a poet is not feeling sane, at least he's got something to write about, and maybe he can find comfort in that. Maybe he can get even with his demons.

There’s a fine line between journaling and art. Inspiration often comes from pain and other negative feelings, so a writer may find revenge in the artistic creation that results from another’s wrongdoing. Poetry and emotion go hand-in-hand; the owner of a personal journal can easily evolve into a poet. I know because it happened to me. Even if the perpetrator never sees the entries, the writer is still able to not only get their feelings out on paper but also improve their creative abilities. I’ve come to find that one of the best revenges is success. To be able to grow from a hurtful experience—to better yourself or your abilities as a result of having lived through it—that’s about as even as you can get.

Conclusion. Revenge comes in many forms. When writing to settle a score, there are countless poisons to pick from. So write it out. Write that novel, that untagged Facebook post, that private diary entry in which you spill your soul. But be careful; as Edmundson says of the vengeful writer, “How quickly he exposes the smallest version of himself” (64).

Works Cited

Edmundson, Mark. Why Write?: A Master Class on How to Write and Why It Matters. Bloomsbury, 2016.

@jk_rowling. “Well, the fumes from the DVDs might be toxic and I've still got your money, so by all means borrow my lighter.” Twitter, 31 Jan. 2017, 6:29 a.m., twitter.com/jk_rowling/status/826407039861653504.

Mario Party 7. Nintendo of America, 2005.