How Does Ressentiment In Nietzsche Apply To Popular Novel Protagonists?

Nietzsche’s ressentiment is everywhere in antiheroes like Patrick Bateman from 'American Psycho.' Bateman’s violent outbursts aren’t just insanity; they’re the result of a man who feels empty and lashes out at a world he can’t control. Nietzsche argued ressentiment leads to fake morality, and Bateman’s superficiality—his obsession with business cards, restaurants—proves it. He doesn’t want change; he wants to drag others down. Modern villains like Joker (from comics) follow this template, turning their inadequacy into a warped philosophy. It’s chilling but brilliant storytelling.

Sci-fi often explores ressentiment through characters like Paul Atreides in 'Dune.' His transformation into Muad’Dib isn’t just heroism; it’s a response to betrayal and loss. Nietzsche would say his crusade is tainted by the very resentment he fights against. Even Neo in 'The Matrix' starts with ressentiment—hating the system but unsure how to channel it. These stories show how ressentiment can be a catalyst, but also a trap if left unchecked.

Ressentiment in romance protagonists? Absolutely. Take Darcy from 'Pride and Prejudice.' His initial arrogance is a shield against societal expectations, a quiet rebellion that mirrors Nietzsche’s idea of internalized resentment. Elizabeth’s prejudice, too, stems from ressentiment—she judges Darcy harshly because she feels disadvantaged. Their love story works because they break free from these mental traps. Nietzsche would’ve called it a triumph over petty moralizing. Even Bella from 'Twilight' fits here; her obsession with Edward is less about love and more about filling a void, a classic ressentiment move.

I’ve always been intrigued by how Nietzsche’s ressentiment plays out in fantasy protagonists. Think of Kvothe from 'The Name of the Wind'—his entire arc is fueled by a simmering anger against the Chandrian, but his obsession borders on self-sabotage. Nietzsche warned that ressentiment traps people in cycles of blame, and Kvothe’s story is a perfect example. He could’ve moved on, but his need for vengeance defines him. Even in 'The Hunger Games,' Katniss’s defiance starts as genuine resistance but later risks becoming performative, another form of ressentiment where rebellion is more about spite than strategy. These characters resonate because they reflect how we handle powerlessness—not with growth, but with grudges.

Nietzsche's concept of ressentiment is fascinating when applied to modern novel protagonists, especially those in dystopian or antihero narratives. Ressentiment describes a psychological state where individuals, feeling powerless, redirect their frustration inward and create a moral framework that vilifies those they envy. Take '1984' by George Orwell—Winston Smith embodies this perfectly. His initial resentment against the Party morphs into a passive-aggressive rebellion, but his eventual submission highlights how ressentiment can lead to self-destructive compliance rather than true liberation.

Another compelling example is Holden Caulfield from 'The Catcher in the Rye.' His constant criticism of 'phonies' masks his own insecurities and failures. Nietzsche would argue Holden’s cynicism is a classic case of ressentiment—unable to fit into society, he vilifies it instead of adapting. Similarly, characters like Amy Dunne from 'Gone Girl' weaponize ressentiment, crafting elaborate revenge plots to compensate for perceived injustices. These protagonists don’t seek genuine change; they stew in their bitterness, which Nietzsche saw as a weakness. Modern literature loves these flawed figures because they mirror our own societal frustrations—powerless against systems, we often resort to petty moral superiority instead of action.