A Question of Magnificence
My girl Maggie is getting more reviews, responses, and questions than my other writings. I am thrilled. If you are interested in a little behind-the-scenes information about Maggie and the novel, here is a bit of a look-off page.
I am most often asked about the title. Why did you title it “The Magnificent Maggie?” That one is easy. Because my editor and I thought that title would sell books. Yep, that’s it.
I get all kinds of questions about Maggie. I will try to answer a few of the most frequently asked without giving any spoilers, I hope.
The most frequent is “Why is she Magnificent?” What first comes to mind when I try to answer is, “Is she magnificent?”
Regarding the title, I can think of three possible readings, all depending on the meaning of the word “magnificent.” Perhaps you, the reader, have another. But here are the three I had in mind while writing the novel.
Straightforward
This version takes magnificent as a straightforward compliment, meaning “wonderful.” Perhaps Maggie is magnificent because she is the prettiest, most alluring, and most talented female (she is magnificently talented; that is just a fact). Or, maybe she is magnificent because she lives a carefree, rich life, throwing the most bee’s knees parties. In this take, the title means total admiration: Maggie is magnificent.
Mocking/Sardonic
As readers—and the novel’s characters—learn more about Maggie, does the initial fascination with her turn into disappointment? Does the magnificent turn bitter. In reality, is Maggie unhappy? Has she created a fake persona to live out a fantasy? This title reading indicates that Maggie is a sad shell of magnificence.
Theatrical
The final possibility I toyed with is that magnificent is just a stage name, something to draw an audience. This version of magnificent is also entirely fitting: after all, she transforms into a totally different person on the stage or the screen. This could also align with how Maggie can create a spectacle and seems to be acting—on and off stage, not actually living.
So? Which of these versions is correct? One of them? Two of them? All of them? None of them? Does the title’s meaning shift depending on how far you’ve read or what you ultimately believe about Maggie’s motivations and driving ambition? This is where I tell you that Maggie’s magnificence, or lack of it, is entirely up to you, the reader.
A few readers have said they find Maggie self-centered. To quote Jethro Gibbs, “Ya think?”
The thing is, they’re missing the point. Is she self-centered? That’s the wrong question. If you find Mags self-centered, and you legitimately may, the interesting thing you should explore is, “Why?” What makes her self-centered? Is she simply petty? Is it a defense mechanism? Is it determination, not egotism? Who, what is her real motivation?
Another observation I’ve heard. C.J. seems weak. I don’t know, does he? How?
Another question about C.J. is, “Is C.J. Maggie’s savior, her anchor?” I may be on slippery ground regarding a spoiler, but the answer is—nope. I don’t think that will ruin anything. I’ll just say you are looking at the wrong character. So who is? Someone is. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Another question is, “How accurate are the depictions of the real-life characters in the novel?” A bit of literary license has been taken. But overall, I think I’m reasonably accurate.
Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald are met at their zenith—at their mountaintop. I present Zelda in a sympathetic light. I believe she deserves that; she has been maligned and mistreated enough. Although Zelda and I never met, we are awful close.
I would say the same about my new buddy and the protagonist of my next novel, Clara Bow. “The IT Girl” has only a little more than a cameo role in this work, but I’m fascinated by her and more than a tad compassionate toward her.
Oh, I forgot someone. Hemingway—the importance of being Earnest. I'm being asked "Don't you like Hemingway?" Well, a plaque in Sun Valley, Idaho, dedicated to Earnest, says, “Most of all, he loved the fall.” I like the sentiment. We'll leave it at that.
When I start a novel, I do a brief sketch or outline of each character I plan on using. Some characters haven’t even crossed my mind at the beginning. They pop up sometime in the story.
All characters are created by their writer. The writer is the god of their world. I suppose many writers maintain that role throughout the story. That is not the case with me.
I am no longer in control after I’m twenty to twenty-five thousand words into a novel. I’m simply an observer scribing what the characters are doing. They are in control. And, if a character doesn’t take control, I cut them. I’ve no time for those who don’t carry their own weight. I hope I’m not the only writer like that. I’m not sure, but I believe the clinical explanation for such behavior is “the writer is nuts.”
Anyway, here is the original outline for Mags. Although I don’t think there are any spoilers in what follows, you might want to stop here if you haven’t read the novel.
Did Mags turn out to be what I meant her to be? Let me know.
Maggie O’Sullivan Elliott—
Maggie is the center of the novel. But despite this, there is quite a bit we don’t know about Maggie—her inner thoughts and motivations can be hard to untangle. Maggie is a doer. Not always a thinker.
Physical description
Soft red hair, beguiling eyes as green as the emerald isle itself, a warm skin tone, tall, willowy, and a hint of lilt in her voice.
Personality and role in the novel
Shrewd, stubborn, enticing, and sassy
Understanding the context of the 1920s—especially the role of women—is vital to understanding Maggie’s role in the story and analyzing her actions. First of all, even though women’s rights were expanding during the 1920s (spurred by the ratification of the 19th Amendment in 1920), the prevailing expectation was still that women, especially wealthy women, would get married and have children, and that was all. Because of the restrictions, Maggie pushes boundaries, sometimes daringly.
Maggie represents change—a burning desire for equality.
She is also the object that C.J. pursues, the person who has come to stand in for all his hopes, dreams, and ambitions. Because of this, Maggie can be tied to the American Dream—she is as alluring and ultimately as fickle and illusive as a dream.
Maggie’s voice is important. Throughout the novel, there is the suggestion that Maggie’s beautiful voice makes her both irresistible and dangerous, especially to men: Opera Directors, Joe Zelli, Maurice Ravel, Cole Porter, George Gershwin, and C.J. Elliott all fall under her spell. There is an obvious connection late in the novel to the sirens in The Odyssey—the beautiful creatures who lure men in with their voices.
Maggie typifies a very showy lifestyle. She is a flapper and drinks alcohol.
While she’s not exactly a starry-eyed optimist, Maggie has resilience and an ability to start things over and move on.
Maggie is a pragmatic opportunist who sees possibilities everywhere. Despite occasionally coming across as cynical and sharp, she stays excited about life’s possibilities.
One last question I’m asked. “Is the Magnificent Maggie a romance novel?” No. It does not meet the tropes of a romance novel.
In my view, the story is a tragedy in that Maggie soars to great heights, but, like Zelda Fitzgerald, Clara Bow, and Louise Brooks, she is largely forgotten in the end.
So, there you have it.