Thread:Mesektet/@comment-27729149-20150707052956/@comment-3581997-20150827072727

Alright I will give you a more direct comparison to Enrico Maxwell with key differences that tip the scale. Compare Enrico Maxwell to Charlotte D'Lota.

Charlotte was the daughter of a baroness who had an affair and was forced to give her child up by her family; sounds familiar so far right? Charlotte was thrown into a Welsh inquisition hall reserved for those born bad or heretical "which an illegitimate child would be considered in the late 1800s" She was thrown in a cell, beaten in the name of God and repeatedly told she was unloved by her mother and by God and the only way she would ever be redeemed was in death and even then only if her whole life was that of repentance for being "born bad". Her ghost haunts the halls of the monastery thinking she is there because god hates her but in the end it turns out it was her own unresolved feelings to her mother and upon being read a letter from her mother she finds she was actually loved very much and hopes the monastery is treating her well, a mother who by the way was writing this from the tower of London thinking she was the only one being punished. Finding out she was loved destroys Charlotte's ghost because that was the unfinished business that was binding her.

Charlotte D'Lota's story differs from Enrico Maxwell's and goes into Tragic territory because she was actually victimized, abused and psychologically warped by Christian sadists, she has no opportunity to be her own person her ghost is more damaged than anything else and actually detests the notion of anyone feeling sorry for her after all she went through. Maxwell on the other-hand grew up with much wealth, education and encouragement of a sort, just not from his own parents, he chooses to make that the focus of his life. He is given a high station in life as well. He is give every opportunity to be a half-way decent person and ignores them all to gripe about being "unloved". He uses being literal bastard to be a figurative one. It's not tragedy it is glorified angst. That is the major difference, having no control over how you turn out and having one minor misfortune that you harp on.