However, as far as literary characters go, fictional employers are a pretty mixed bag.  Here are five fictional employers ranked from best to worst.

Thorin Oakenshield.

General stress factors relating to epic quests permitted, this guy is actually a decent employer.  Thorin believes in fair compensation and will likely honour his commitment to pay you in however much dragon gold he thinks your services merited.  And if he does suffer the occasional bout of dragon sickness and attempt to murder you despite the fact that he considers you his friend (it happens), at least he’s humble enough to make amends with you before he dies a glorious line-of-Durin-worthy death.

Aunt March.

This crotchety spinster loves making random helpful statements along the lines of “Your Pa and Ma have no more worldly wisdom than two babies.” However, she’s always one for a helpful offer to her impoverished relatives.  Oh, you suddenly lost your fortune in the process of trying to help someone?  Even better than a loan, how about I take one of your children?  Ease that financial burden of yours.  Endowed with “the art of rousing the spirit of opposition in the gentlest people,” she enjoys being opinionated and prickly.  But her pockets are deep and she’s a great first employer for a young lady determined to make her own way in the world.

Aunt March frequently gets in disagreements with her family members.  Nonetheless, these arguments generally blow over.  And after she’s forgiven you, she’ll secretly gift you an expensive pile of linen as a peace offering.  Can’t ask for much better than that.  Well, obviously you can.  But you won’t, or else you’re not invited to France.

King Oberon.

No one said that working for the King of the Fairies would be easy.  Oberon orders Puck to anoint the eyes of a certain man in order to right the course of true love.  Then, he realizes that this might be difficult to do without a clear description of the man.  So, he tells Puck that he will “know the man by the Athenian garments he hath on.”

And undoubtedly, this would have been a fantastic description.  Except for the fact that literally everyone in the play except for the fairies is wearing Athenian garments.  Because the play is set in Athens.  So, when Puck mistakes one Athenian man for another, I don’t really think he’s to blame.  On a scale of one to ten, I’d give Oberon a nine for providing interesting employment opportunities, but a three for his ability to clearly outline required tasks.

Don Quixote.

Full credit to this knight-errant-wannabe for intending to compensate his squire.  He’s mostly a reasonable employer, because even after he’s dragged you across the countryside, and gotten you blanket-tossed/beaten numerous times, he still believes in fair remuneration.  This means that as long as you are a loyal squire, he will make you governor of an isle.

Unfortunately, Don Quixote is literally insane.  Like, first-class, straight up, banana-bread, crazy!  He is not a real knight.  There is no isle.  And even if the isle did exist, Don Quixote would not have the authority to give it to you!  Forget about being a governor, you probably won’t even get paid a modest sum, despite all that time spent following him around as he picks fights with inanimate objects.  And in the rare event that you do actually get paid, it will probably be due to some outrageous accident.  Definitely not the kind of employment opportunity that you want to rely on for your pension.

Miss Havisham.

This old lady is just the worst.  Not only has she raised her adopted daughter to break men’s hearts for the sake of her weird vendetta, but she singles out an eight-year-old as the victim of her revenge.  She’ll invite you over for a creepy play date surrounded by super-old memorabilia from her failed wedding.  Also, she’ll only pretend to be paying you.  She won’t actually be paying you.  Then she’ll essentially screw up your entire love life.  And she won’t repent until you finally save her when her ancient wedding dress catches on fire.  So, it’s not just that Miss Havisham is a terrible employer.  She’s actually a terrible person.

[Back in late April, issue 3016 was one of the few Voice Magazine issues that published with two comics.  This one, from Savannah Ugo, tickled me because I used to know a couple of people very much like this.  They took ‘don’t sweat the small stuff’ way too far, and it was fun to have what felt like such a significant change from our normal, very text-heavy magazine.  As such, I thought that warranted being in the Best Of, because who doesn’t like just a little bit of a change-up here and there?]

But then none of our acquaintances, friends, or family members ever agree to actually read it.

What hope is there for such romantics as us?  How can we incite others to begin their literary journey if they won’t even open the book?  The answer, as it turns out, is far simpler than some innovative crusade of encouragement.  By means of psychological tactics, bribery, and outright trickery there is no book that we cannot force those we care about to read!

Psychological Tactics

This technique can be seamlessly executed with lots of subtle influence.  You must follow your intended victim around incessantly and then drop discreet hints relating to said book whenever the occasion may arise.  Ideally, the hints should somehow relate to specific themes that are present in the book.  For example, if you are attempting to induce your Uncle Dimitri to read The Invisible Man, you might make it a goal to sneak into his house on regular occasions (or as frequently as your schedule allows) and rearrange the furniture.  You could then proceed to glare suspiciously at the offending household articles until Uncle Dimitri’s interest is thoroughly peaked, or until he arranges to install a new set of locks, at which point, you can hand him the book.

Alternatively, a far simpler method might involve asking your victim a direct yet random question that is answered in the book itself.  I have experienced vast success by leading various acquaintances, such as Aunt Doris, to a tranquil pond in the wintertime, only to holler unexpectedly at her, “BUT WHERE ARE THE DUCKS?”  Even if your relative knows the answer to such a question, your peculiar behaviour may be enough to induce her to give Salinger a try.

Bribery

This technique is highly effective on those of epicurean tendencies.  You should begin by acquiring an irresponsible quantity of chocolate chip cookies.  You can then invite your dessert-loving friend Jeremy over for a casual afternoon tea.  When he arrives, you can then inform him that you are “very excited that he’s agreed to form a book club with you”.  While he is busy being confused (you never mentioned anything about books) you can quickly present him with the book itself, along with a seemingly endless quantity of cookies.  This tactic should succeed in coaxing him to read on, either until he finishes the book, or until you run out of cookies.

Outright Trickery

This last technique requires careful understanding of the victim’s needs and interests.  For example, perhaps you have been telling your friend Alex to read Chesterton’s Tremendous Trifles for years, only to have him refuse to read it.  You should swap the dust jacket of Tremendous Trifles for the jacket of Practical Lock Picking.  You could then lock Alex in a basement, with only the Practical Lock Picking fake as a companion.  You might be surprised by how quickly Alex manages to give your amiable recommendation a try.

Or maybe your friend Marissa absolutely refuses to try your recommendation of Don Quixote, for fear that she will find it dull (a very real possibility in fact, and upon reflection, perhaps the reason that you want her to read this book is to have another person share in your suffering, but that is irrelevant).  Try swapping the jacket of this book for the jacket of something that Marissa prefers, like an Agatha Christie book.  Marissa will be halfway through “Dulcinea’s enchantment” before she finally realizes that Poirot isn’t showing up.

Attempting to induce one’s friends and family to read important literature is a noble enterprise.  By means of careful planning and execution, there is certainly no book that we cannot trick them into reading.  And in the end, if these individuals are not exactly grateful for our benevolent assistance, then the best that we can do is try not to allow their lack of appreciation to hamper our enthusiasm.

Concessions

In theory, a concession could be used for the noble cause of proving to an opposing party that you understand their concerns and believe your argument to be plausible, nonetheless.  For example, imagine that you are trying to prove to your friend Sarah that macarons are better than other cookies, even though Sarah thinks that macarons are just overpriced cookies.  You start by agreeing with Sarah and admitting that macaron prices would be expensive for regular cookies.  Doing so would prove to Sarah that you are openminded enough to be trusted.  She would then be more receptive to your following explanation that macarons are nothing like regular cookies and are therefore worth whatever exorbitant price bakers may charge for them.

But to accomplish all this you must first find something to agree with Sarah about.  And finding that something is called a concession.  Speaking of which, perhaps that is also why the cantankerous Sarah always agrees to eat the overpriced popcorn that you buy for her at Jays’ games, despite her dislike of expensive snacks.  It is simply because the popcorn has been purchased at a concession stand, so she has no choice but to agree to eat it.  Sarah is always a paragon of rhetorical duty, so long as you are buying.

Refutations

Refutation is simply the successful disproval of your opponent’s argument.  It involves encountering an argument that you deem incorrect, finding evidence to back up your perspective, presenting said evidence to your opponent (preferably in front of a large and incredulous crowd), and finally cackling over your opponent’s untimely defeat (this last part is not strictly necessary, but is highly recommended).

For example, imagine that your friend Jeremy believes that DC movies are better than MCU ones.  You might do a bit of research and then proudly explain to Jeremy that Batman Begins only grossed $14.5 million worldwide, while Thor successfully exceeded $400 million.  You could state that this obviously proves that most viewers preferred Thor to Batman, Jeremy would have no choice but to applaud your successful refutation of his DC movie superiority argument, and you would be left to perform your best celebratory cackle.

Alliterations

Alliteration involves using several words in a row that start with the same letter or contain a similar sound.  This practice is particularly productive in proving oneself a paradigm of panache.  Alliteration is by now quite well-known to the public.  It is still popular nonetheless; as with magic tricks and golden retrievers, humanity simply does not tire of anything that brings it entertainment.

Certain authors (Brandwein et. al., 2018, para. 22) point out that according to some studies humans, appear to be so fond of alliteration that our “organizational recruiters and managers participating in employee selection should be cautioned about not giving an advantage to an alliterative applicant” (meaning an applicant whose first and last name begin with the same letter).  Alliteration will allow even the lowest layman to develop a lexicon of legends.

Fallacies

There are so many deliciously disgusting fallacies that I have been forced to focus on only two.  The two that I have selected are the Ad Hominem fallacy and the slippery slope fallacy.  The Ad Hominem (meaning “to the man”) fallacy occurs when you disagree with someone’s argument simply because you dislike the person presenting it.  To illustrate, if your friend Leah argues that dogs are more loyal than cats you could simply state that Leah is probably wrong because Leah is terrible.  As satisfying as it might be to make such a statement, in doing so, you would be committing an Ad Hominem fallacy.

The slippery slope fallacy occurs when you assume that one action or event will inevitably lead to another action or event.  For example, you might inadvertently assume that Leah’s irrational dislike of cats will result in her not buying a cat.  Though not impossible, this is obviously highly unlikely.  It is far more probable that Leah will instead dedicate herself to a lifetime of anti-cat vendetta activism and eventually end up wanted for violent crimes against cats in upwards of twenty countries.  You can avoid committing a slippery slope fallacy by doing your best not to jump to conclusions.

Conflagrations

Upon further research, I have no choice but to make a concession.  A conflagration is in fact a type of fire.  If your argument mounts to the level of a conflagration, I do not suggest that you do anything other than run.

An excellent starting point for the novice movie planner is the identification of a no-fail genre.  Is there a film genre that your entire posse consistently enjoys?  If so, try to save this genre for movie nights after a tough day.  Even if the genre that you choose isn’t Oscar worthy, it may still be good for a few laughs or an hour and a half of enjoyable hate-watching.  It can also be rewarding for your group to shout out potential ending guesses halfway through the film.  Also, don’t rule out popular franchises.  Sometimes they make five sequels for a reason.

Much movie night success depends on matching the right film to the right mood.  Maybe don’t attempt that intense thriller after you’ve had a harrowing shift at work.  Alternatively, viewing a poetic and scenic film based on a true story might not work out as an engaging flick right after you’ve just spent the past several hours studying a dry topic.  Try to feel out the mood of your group beforehand.  Drop the titles of potential film candidates, then watch carefully to see if they are met with enthusiasm, anger, or apathy.

An important aspect of movie planning is identifying your target audience.  True movie enthusiasts will likely be willing to watch nearly anything.  There is, of course, always the danger of encountering the kind of viewer who would rather read a book.  My experience is that such a viewer can usually be coerced into watching an old-timey musical or an art or foreign film.  Somewhat related to that viewer is the movie-goer who reveals (unfortunately while already halfway through the movie), that she would rather watch a tv show.  There is no dealing with such individuals, aside from the intuitive responses of turning up the volume, shooting them a glare, or a voicing a resounding “sshhhh!”

The current pandemic restrictions may pose a bit of a challenge to the novice movie planner, but the movie professional remains unfazed.  With such tools as screen sharing on Zoom, group watching on Disney+, or WhatsApp, there are still many viable options for a virtual movie night that are available to movie enthusiasts right now.  Zoom viewing an exciting flick through screen sharing is no doubt all the more suspenseful because the film is liable to freeze at any unpredictable spot, no matter how crucial the plot point.

Group watching allows you to share moving cinematic experiences with your friends, along with the ignorant bliss of not being able to see if they are checking their texts in the middle of it all.  And texting through WhatsApp, while not actually allowing you to view a movie together, may still be useful for a brief, pre-film prediction session that is at least likely to stir up a bit of much needed controversy before each member of the group goes to watch the film on their own.  Alternatively, if you already have enough members in your immediate household to view a film in person, that’s perfectly fine too.

The selection of a movie night film is one of the most noble and selfless acts of recreation available to us right now.  With careful premeditation, you, too, can succeed at such a task, and provide a much-needed recreational outlet for your family and friends.  And if absolutely all your attempts fail, there is always the old-fashioned alternative of a family or friends board game night instead.