Character Clues

Character Clues

Character Analysis

Social Status

This, friends, is a big one. Leviathan is a book in which a prince becomes friends with a commoner, and then tells her a story about how his life is so difficult because his mother was only a countess:

"What in blazes does that mean?" she asked.

Alek wiped the tears from his face. "They could marry, but the children could inherit nothing. As far as my granduncle is concerned, I don't exist."

"So you're not an archduke or anything?"

He shook his head. "Just a prince." (35.43-46)

First world problems, right? Like, tippy top of the first world too. This lamentation of his social status clues us into how poorly acquainted with the real world (with its very real problems) Alek is.

So we've got this big obvious difference in social status between the two protagonists, but that's not the only place social status comes into play. There are many more subtle differences in, feelings about, and actions taken because of social status that contribute to characterization throughout the novel.

On board the Leviathan, of course, status is determined more by rank than by birth, but don't think for a minute that in the actual British military of 1914, rank wasn't hugely influenced by birth. Deryn herself even has moments of pride: "midshipmen were officers, practically. They certainly weren't cabin boys" (16.88). Because obviously cabin boys are terrible, or at least have cooties… oh wait, probably not. But in this moment, we see a bit of ego emerge from Deryn.

Take a look, too, at the interesting relationship between Alek and Volger:

To the servants he might be "the young archduke," but nobles like Volger never let Alek forget his position. Thanks to his mother's common blood, he wasn't fit to inherit royal lands and titles. His father might be heir to an empire of fifty million souls, but Alek was heir to nothing.

Volger himself was only a wildcount—no farmlands to his name, just a bit of forest—but even he could feel superior to the son of a lady-in-waiting. (1.46-47)

It's worth keeping an eye on these complex relationships because they show us who feels superior or inferior to whom, and as we figure out why, it can tell us a lot about a character.

Actions

You knew we had to talk about characters' actions in a book as action packed as this, right? It just makes sense that at least some of those actions would contribute to character. Not only do we know people by who they are, and perhaps more importantly by who their parents were, but we also know them—and they know each other—by what they do. Let's look at some examples.

Volger, Klopp, Bauer, and Hoffman have all left everything they have behind and risked being executed as traitors to help save Alek's life. Volger and Klopp know him well, so this means they're committed to him as well as to the empire, while Bauer and Hoffman are clearly loyal to the empire since they're willing to risk treason to save the life of the one true heir.

Deryn Sharp is about the most physically brave character we've ever seen. She sneaks into the British Air Service disguised as a boy—and pulls it off, no less. Whether she's volunteering to go up in a Huxley, attempting a sliding escape, or taking Alek hostage, she never shies away from danger—in other words, this girl's got some serious…. bravery. But she isn't stupidly reckless, either. Deryn always has a really good reason for whatever she does, which lets us know she's got a good brain in her noggin too.

When we talk about Alek's actions, we have to talk about the night he takes supplies to the wreck of the Leviathan. In many ways, it's his defining moment. Alek has been talking a lot about his responsibilities and what he feels he owes other people, but when he takes supplies to his nation's enemies in wartime, it proves to us that this isn't just all talk. Alek actually does feel huge responsibility to other people, and he's willing to act on it too.

Occupation

If people are what they do in the world of Leviathan, then it seems like they're also what they do for a living. For our two protagonists, their jobs—prince-in-disguise and midshipman—are key to their identities, but they're not the only ones who feel this way.

Can you even imagine Dr. Barlow not being a scientist? Or Count Volger being anything but a loyal royal retainer? Klopp is the best master of mechaniks in Austria-Hungary, after all, and whenever we see him, he's generally piloting a walker. Look at Mr. Rigby, the bosun, and Captain Hobbes himself—almost every character in the book is defined in some way by what they do.