Character Analysis: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen

[This Character Analysis discusses Vilgetortz in relation to the entire series of Witcher novels. If you would like to be surprised when reading; please come back to the review after reading the story]

The domain of violence, and the nature of community honour and personal honour greatly come into play within The Witcher series, by using Vilgefortz of Rogeveen as a vehicle to demonstrate within a darksome political world that violent abuses are rewarded, but not permanently obtained. I think like many things Netflix will avoid it for the lesson it brings, but within literary text there is wisdom encouragement and entertainment, and a different but additional sort to be gained in film as well. The game’s storytelling and writing are decidedly their own thing, with different focuses and serve holistically as arguably better art due to writing and the artistic visual exposition made by the team of CD Projekt Red; but that discussion can wait for another time.

Though curiously at the point of Vilgefortz’s ascendancy at the point of the Thanedd summit and his first physical encounter with Geralt, up to this point as befits the dark and cynical setting, the mage has ironically gained his renown and station by the same means as Geralt. He is a magically empowered man, possessing the rare and underestimated combination of magical and martial ability. Vilgefortz is arguably also possessed of a muting of emotional awareness. Psychopathic, sociopathic, or simply cruel and devoid of empathy much in the way, Vilgefortz has the same killer instinct, the coldness and rationale within a bloody and haphazard world that allow him to live, just as Geralt does throughout his hellish existence. There is a debate as to Geralt being devoid of emotional reactions due to the Trial of the Grasses, or this being a lie and the result of mental conditioning to prevent childhood trauma causing him a mental breakdown; and as a foil, Vilgefortz is a well-travelled, hardened character at the peak of his order due to singular focus and firm sense of identity much in the same way, but his moral centre or moralistic neutrality entirely missing. Geralt enjoys sex, wealth and silence to infuriate, puzzle out or entrap people, but Vilgefortz only uses women in a predatorially domineering way, or uses uneven combat to inflict pain for his own enjoyment.

Vilgefortz slaughtered whoever stood before him, not monsters as would be morally acceptable, but men. He is lauded for this, his forcefulness makes him famous as a power rather than reviled as a murderer. When Geralt kills men -which admittedly he does very often- there is a debate and attempt at reason his enemy never even considers.

An arguable cause for this success is the veneer of courtesy, or political manipulation Geralt would never consider.

Part of the emerging heroism in an epic saga that goes on for so many pages is seeing that from the second book, from the great crippling and being utterly outclassed, the heroism Geralt always possessed makes itself more widely known, continuing not to give up in dangerous circumstances earns him the tangible knighthood and pronouncement of the nationality he assumed along with his name, affirming externally the inner nobility always within him. Vilgefortz in comparison becomes an impotent threat, his physical beauty marred, bearing neither political mastery nor even primacy of threat. Emryr Var Emyrs by all accounts had a force ready to deal with him and threatens the political world. The Lodge of Sorceresses are magically stronger, smarter, and their long-term planning is arguably more insidious and not much different than his is.

Leo Bonheart becomes a more tangible physical threat than Vilgetortz within Spakowski’s saga, his predatory nature and threat to Ciri making him the real monster of her story and perhaps the most intimidating villain the series produced. And this is not even getting into a threat used to great effects when it changed mediums: Eredin Bréacc Glas is one of the strange features of The Tower of the Swallow in the latter part of the series as it grew more postmodern and the boundaries of time and space within the texts become increasingly blurred.

All of this colourful array of antagonists grow out of the conflagration following the Second Nilfgaardian Invasion, yet until Castle Stygia Vilgefortz is nowhere to be found. Like the coward he is, the base nature of his character as a rapist and schemer is plainly visible. But to his credit as a villain, as we see he possesses what makes such an incredible danger in the world, and certainly the feudal and Classical world: he simply physically outclasses his opponents.

Like his staff, Vilgefortz is a blunt instrument in every sense of the word. Sapkowski makes him a great villain in his detail, and how the author applies him. It is not just him being strong, he turns the previously unstoppable and rather enjoyable Emiel into glass. He does not defeat the protagonist, he smashes part of Geralt’s brain out of his ears and shatters his kneecap. He does not abduct the princess, he shows her the instruments he will use to inseminate her before giving another leave to watch her forceful violation.

Sapkowski’s most forcefully apparent and domineering villain functions as an imposing inversion of his protagonist, a metaphor for the threat and waning effectiveness of the violator, the manipulator unbolstered by allies, ultimately a devastating physical powerhouse but the lesser threat between Emyr and the growing cohort of the Lodge of Sorceresses. An encapsulation of the darker and unambiguously villainous postmodern male in power, the social climber too arrogant and grasping to accept the respect granted to them in evading their crimes, seeking almost psychotically in the same manner as Geralt a desire in spite of the wishes of the world. Ultimately while his preternatural power and experience by far make him the greatest monster Geralt of Rivia ever faced, in the quest and battle of monsters, people and heroes, like all Geralt’s fellowship the only unambiguous villain save Bonheart and Avallac'h breaks screaming due to the concept of trickery he used most deceitfully. Where Geralt and Ciri needed to adapt and move beyond being physically bested, and resist the slump of abandoning their moral fortitude and dream of family reuniting, Vilgefortz’s arc is that of constant decay, like a radioactive substance. Shedding his metaphorical and literal skin.

There is such fantastic catharsis in the loss of wit and utter defeat of Vilgefortz, tricked by a basic illusion. For such a dark series, chivalry, persistence, and struggle is touted as leading to being the road for physical and moral superiority to triumph. While there are absolute bastard individuals among humanity, with seemingly no depth of depravity, though they caper in confidence and silks while enjoying their heyday; never the less, even if one crosses hell to get to them, those who make themselves villainous die screaming like the impotent cowards they are.

Popularity and sadism, verses ostracization paired with altruism. An effective dichotomy, less common than good verses evil, but no less potent. It may even by more relevant in our world, as we plum stories which delve increasingly into cynical views of the reception of evil and the difficulty of circumnavigating the politics and horror of our world; but that discipline, conviction, and endurance prevail.

References:

- Sapkowski, A. Blood of Elves. Orion Books, 2008.

- Sapkowski, A. The Time of Contempt. Orion Books, 2013.

- Sapkowski, A. Baptism of Fire. Orion Books, 2014.

- Sapkowski, A. Tower of the Swallow. Orion Books, 2016.

- Sapkowski, A. Lady of the Lake. Orion Books, 2017.

As with any Witcher topic; I would heavily recommend the independent classic Witcher 1 game, the 2 classic sequel games to follow, and most of all The Last Wish and many novels and short stories within a great fantasy series. I quite happily avoided the recent Witcher TV show after the first season, and find myself more contented in my choice as time goes by.