Mr. Benedict Character Analysis

“I want to make some things perfectly clear,” said Mr. Benedict. “It is not my wish to put you in harm’s way. Quite the opposite: I despite the notion. Children should spend their time learning and playing in absolute safety––that is my firm belief. Now then, assuming that I am telling the truth, can you guess why I would nonetheless involve you in something dangerous?”

[…]

“If you’re telling the truth,” said Reynie, “then the only reason you would put us in danger is that you believe we’ll fall into greater danger if you don’t.”

“…Would you consider this a good move?”

“I’m no great chess player, sir, but I would say not. By starting over, white loses the advantage of going first.”

“Why, then, do you think the white player might have done it?”

Reynie considered…. “Perhaps he doubted himself.”

Part of him wanted not to believe Mr. Benedict. Could he really be trusted? ...It would be such a relief to think his predictions about the thing to come were nothing more than wild speculation. And yet Reynie did trust Mr. Benedict, had trusted him almost immediately. What troubled Reynie was that he so badly wanted to trust Mr. Benedict––wanted to believe in this man who had shown faith in him, wanted to stay with these children who seemed to like and respect Reynie as much as he did them.

And so the question was not whether Reynie could trust Mr. Benedict, but whether he could trust himself. Who in his right mind would actually want to be put in danger just because that let him be a part of something?

Reynie wasn’t surprised by his friends’ responses. He too had been wary of the notion when it occurred to him. But were they not secret agents? Was not their very presence on the island a deception? Kate and Sticky’s reaction was just an instinctive response, he thought; they would come around in a minute. Still, Reynie was troubled….Where was his powerful love of truth?...Was he perhaps not quite the truth-loving brave soul Mr. Benedict and everyone else thought him to be?

“You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn’t depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family.”

Reynie had drunk up those words like life-saving medicine….[He] had gone to bed thinking of the people he might one day––if everything turned out all right––consider a part of his family.

[Reynie] was hoping against hope that Mr. Benedict would find some way to save them––to save everyone––without requiring anything more from him. Reynie didn’t think he was capable of more, not since the Whisperer. He was worried, deeply worried, that the Whisperer had revealed to him who he truly was.

“Mr. Benedict! Is he the one who tricked you into joining him, who encouraged you to cheat on quizzes, who offered you ‘special opportunities’? Or was that Mr. Curtain, who said cheating doesn’t bother him, who rounded up poor unfortunates only to give them a better life, who has offered you a chance to be an Executive? How different are the two men? Not very, Reynard. The only difference is that one can offer you only suffering now, while the other offers you a way to belong––a way to relieve the loneliness.”

“Just a few minutes more, Number Two. Let them play. They are children, after all.”

And this was certainly true, if only for the moment.

“I want to make some things perfectly clear,” said Mr. Benedict. “It is not my wish to put you in harm’s way. Quite the opposite: I despite the notion. Children should spend their time learning and playing in absolute safety––that is my firm belief. Now then, assuming that I am telling the truth, can you guess why I would nonetheless involve you in something dangerous?”

[…]

“If you’re telling the truth,” said Reynie, “then the only reason you would put us in danger is that you believe we’ll fall into greater danger if you don’t.”

“…Would you consider this a good move?”

“I’m no great chess player, sir, but I would say not. By starting over, white loses the advantage of going first.”

“Why, then, do you think the white player might have done it?”

Reynie considered…. “Perhaps he doubted himself.”

Part of him wanted not to believe Mr. Benedict. Could he really be trusted? ...It would be such a relief to think his predictions about the thing to come were nothing more than wild speculation. And yet Reynie did trust Mr. Benedict, had trusted him almost immediately. What troubled Reynie was that he so badly wanted to trust Mr. Benedict––wanted to believe in this man who had shown faith in him, wanted to stay with these children who seemed to like and respect Reynie as much as he did them.

And so the question was not whether Reynie could trust Mr. Benedict, but whether he could trust himself. Who in his right mind would actually want to be put in danger just because that let him be a part of something?

Reynie wasn’t surprised by his friends’ responses. He too had been wary of the notion when it occurred to him. But were they not secret agents? Was not their very presence on the island a deception? Kate and Sticky’s reaction was just an instinctive response, he thought; they would come around in a minute. Still, Reynie was troubled….Where was his powerful love of truth?...Was he perhaps not quite the truth-loving brave soul Mr. Benedict and everyone else thought him to be?

“You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn’t depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family.”

Reynie had drunk up those words like life-saving medicine….[He] had gone to bed thinking of the people he might one day––if everything turned out all right––consider a part of his family.

[Reynie] was hoping against hope that Mr. Benedict would find some way to save them––to save everyone––without requiring anything more from him. Reynie didn’t think he was capable of more, not since the Whisperer. He was worried, deeply worried, that the Whisperer had revealed to him who he truly was.

“Mr. Benedict! Is he the one who tricked you into joining him, who encouraged you to cheat on quizzes, who offered you ‘special opportunities’? Or was that Mr. Curtain, who said cheating doesn’t bother him, who rounded up poor unfortunates only to give them a better life, who has offered you a chance to be an Executive? How different are the two men? Not very, Reynard. The only difference is that one can offer you only suffering now, while the other offers you a way to belong––a way to relieve the loneliness.”

“Just a few minutes more, Number Two. Let them play. They are children, after all.”

And this was certainly true, if only for the moment.