Character Clues
Character Analysis
Clothing
Harpagon has a thing against clothing. He's certainly not a clotheshorse; he doesn't like to spend money on clothes at all. He gets miffed when Cléante buys nice clothes, even though Cléante does it with his own money. Why, you ask? Because Harpagon doesn't want word getting out that he has a lot of money.
A rep like that is just bound to bring thieves to his house. "What with talk like that and your extravagance, someone will turn up one of these days and slit my throat because they think I've got money coming out of my ears!" (1.4.31), says paranoid Harpagon. As you can tell, Harpagon goes to insane-o lengths to keep it secret and keep it safe.
Cléante, on the other hand, likes looking sharp. He takes care to present a good lookin' outward appearance, and he ends up getting respect and love. Is he (and the rest of the world) shallow? Sure. But Cléante understands the social code that says 'Dress Snazzy, Get Respect' way better than his old man, and in the end he gets rewarded for it with a happy, happy ending.
Actions
The actions Harpagon takes to hoard his money in this book are beyond excessive. They're downright cartoonish. What kind of guy sends back uneaten food to a caterer looking for a refund? Harpagon, that's who. And who starves his horses because he doesn't want to spend money on oats? Or hey: who tries to marry off his children to people they don't love? Yeah, you guessed it. H-bomb.
In contrast to Harpagon, Seigneur Anselme does lots of nice things for people: paying off their debts, giving them his blessing for marriage, and declining marriage to a beautiful young lady because she's not 100% thrilled about the match. He also—aww!—is excited to see his wife again, as evidenced by his saying "So be it. But now let us go and share our joy with your mother" (5.6.23). Generosity, kindness, fidelity… dang. What a guy. He basically has a 'Good Dude' tattoo on his forehead.
Molière isn't going for subtlety in this play. The good characters do good things and the bad ones do bad things. Actions speak louder than words, y'all.
Family Life
We bet Cléante and Élise say "I didn't ask to be born!" a lot to Harpagon, the miserliest old miser that ever misered about.
But you know what Tolstoy said about happy families: they're as boring as plain oatmeal. They make for dull theater. So even though Harpagon is the baddiest Daddy (baddy?) around, it’s not like his kiddos are total sweetness and light.
Cléante resents his old man for not giving him more money. But hey, the kid could probably also do more to be financially independent. By the end of the play, though, it looks like he won't have to go that route, because he gets himself a new father-in-law named Anselme. Anselme seems more than willing to give Cléante all the money he needs.
Uhh, okay. In another play, maybe one with the title The Lazybones, Cléante wouldn't be that sympathetic. He might even be the villain of a story about a no-good son who just can't get it together enough to earn a living. This is good news for the characterization of Cléante, though: in this play we know him to be a totally charming, if a bit slothful, guy.
And Élise can be a little bit of a diva, not gonna lie. Remember how she tells Valère that she doesn't trust sweet-talk, and that Valère will have to prove his love to her? When she says, "Ah! Valère, all men say the same thing; all men are alike in their words; their actions only show the difference that exists between them." (1.1.6)
So Élise wants her lover to become her father's servant and suck up to her daddy 24/7 in order to prove his love. That's a little much, don't you think? Oh yeah: also remember that this is the guy who saved her from drowning. Élise totally has a bit of the spoiled brat syndrome. If this was a movie called, say, Clueless, Élise would be the one learning a lesson at the end.
But these character flaws just go to show that Moliere knows his playwriting stuff. We don't have one evil Dad and a couple of angelic kids. We have three individuals with their own flaws and quirks… it's just that Harpagon's quirks are way worse than anyone else's.
Food
Food appears in this play to establish one essential point about Harpagon's character: the dude doesn't have joie de vivre.
He even wants to try to get a refund on the leftovers: "Valère, go and keep an eye on what's being served and please save as much of it as you can so that it can go back to the caterers" (3.9.11). C'mon, guy. The best part of throwing a huge party is eating leftover cold pizza for breakfast the next morning—everybody knows that.
His barebones mentality goes deep. He won't even pay for enough food to feed his horses. Even when you get past the whole animal cruelty angle, the guy still needs to get around, and he can't go doing that when his horses are all on their deathbeds.
Names
Harpagon's name comes from a Latin word for a grappling hook, which basically establishes from the get-go that Harpagon is a guy who tends to hold onto things. What kinds of things? Well, money, for starters. But also to power, as evidenced by the way he manages his children's affairs and micro-manages the servants. And possessions: he doesn't want the servants to get new clothes.
By contrast, the kind Seigneur Anselme has a nice, saintly-sounding name to help show off his inherent goodness. Anselme, by the by, is actually the name of a saint. Huh. How about that. The guy who says "O heaven! how wonderful are thy doings, and how true it is that it only belongs to thee to work miracles! Come to my arms, my children, and share the joy of your happy father!" (5.5.28) has a saintly name.