Now, tell me, is there any way that even the most inobservant of people who are at least looking at you would miss the sheer forced nature and utter facetiousness of that smile? Is there any way that there is anyone that doesn’t know that you aren’t smiling on the inside? Well, maybe if you are a clown and a kid is looking at you. After all, we all know clowns don’t smile on the inside, but only after we become adults.

So, why do I bring this up? Well, I have started to wonder at how this has become an accepted writing tool. There are typically two types of people that typically have smiled that don’t touch their eyes. One is catty people, the other is complete manipulators.

The catty people I don’t mind. After all, these are people who are trying to pretend but fail miserably at it. They wear their emotions on their sleeves and stab backs before said backs are even turned. For them to have that funny looking smile you just saw in the mirror, no problem from me at all.

But manipulators, really? Not only is this person’s fake smile supposed to be a sign of their ingenious and masterful ability to hide their true motives, the observation of said smile is supposed to speak to the ability of the observer to see past the manipulator’s game. Gah!

A real manipulator would know how to actually squint a little when they smile to make said smile look genuine. A real manipulator would force a smile in a time where said smile would be suspicious, even if it does touch the eyes. I guess it just gets back to my usual gripe that manipulators are always “evil” and must have their disguises casually ripped off by the morally upright and usually “stupid” hero. I won’t even get into my normal diatribe on the anti-intellectualism that is prevalent in novels, nor the irony that the writers of said novels are usually very intelligent people.

And, I think this is one reason I enjoyed A Game of Thrones better this time through reading it. The heroes, the Starks, actually really annoyed me for the most part, while the villains, the Lannisters, had me rooting for them. Why? Because the Lannisters were practical. There was a line in there, near the end, that I loved. One of the Starks, the older daughter who thinks life is a fairytale, realized that it isn’t, and thinks to herself “In real life, the monsters win.”  Well, maybe monsters is a little harsh of a word, but yes, the people who are willing to play the game win. What is wrong with that, honestly?

Caveat: The Fife in no way endorses complete and total Machiavellian means. He says this with a smile that touches his eyes. Honest.

Now, I understand that in fiction, we need to pat/kick the dog to show our moral fiber, and that we want to believe that a good heart and well-intentioned plan will, in the end, win the day.  Even in the cases of stories about rebellions, the Big Bad is typically a much meaner, more devious, and super-powerful foe who will nearly topple the whole thing single handedly (or with the proper application of military force), thus making the machinations of the heroes somewhat justified, as that was the only way to get at them.

But what about the noble weasel? I have been wracking my brain all morning, trying to think of a solid example of a person who is a manipulative bastard but uses it not for his own selfish ends, but instead to help out the good guys (or further a good goal)?  Can playing, even with difficulty, playing the villain for a fool and getting away with it be a bad thing? I am sure we would say it is in real life, so why not in fiction?  Well, I guess it is because Good Is Dumb, and Dumb is Good.  Look those up on tvtropes to get what I’m saying.