Serious Men, Take 2

On the latest post at Dave Kehr's site, Kent Jones leaves a comment that speaks to the subject of my previous post:

Flaubert and James aren’t great artists because they’re overflowing with sympathy for their characters. They are intensely interested in them, which is a different matter. Sympathy for characters can be just as much of a hindrance as a help. Don’t all great works of art result from equal measures of cold detachment and warm engagement? In my opinion, that goes for Cassavetes as well as Kubrick. As for the idea that an artist’s attitude toward his or her characters reflects his or her attitude toward people, that’s a tough one. What are we talking about, humanity at large or people as individuals? And what people, loved ones or people you meet on the street? Then there’s the question of basic human contradiction, which allows people to be great humanitarians and monsters at home, or public misanthropes with an abiding love for their children. And on a more atomized level, don’t people’s stances shift continually? Who is wholly consistent on a moral level? If Cassavetes and Renoir and Elaine May and Aristophanes and Sophocles have taught us anything, isn’t it that people are entirely and maddeningly inconsistent?

I endorse the idea that an author having "intense interest" in their characters is probably more important than whether or not they love or hate them and whether they look upon them with approval or disapproval.