Strange, yes? Because we don’t particularly apply these same judgements to the unmarried verses married in real life. If anything, we apply the opposite: the married man or lady is more interesting, while the unmarried isn’t as worthy…perhaps because the fact of marriage means that someone valued that person enough to sign and seal a life contract with them, adding “value.”
In fiction, for me, what is interesting about how I potentially may handle it is how that married character changes –interpretations the reader puts upon that character’s actions both before and after marriage. Readers seem to give less leeway to the married man or woman than they do the bachelor or spinster. After marriage, the good deeds become expected and the bad ones inexcusable. After marriage, the character becomes more black or white, good OR bad, rather than black AND white (grey), good AND bad. So some three dimensional depth automatically is sacrificed once one “shackles” the protag with a wedding ring. Not always. But enough that it makes any author pause before committing a character to “holy” (or unholy
) matrimony.
Of course, one can just have the protagonist get engaged. Or, if married, kill off the partner.
But here’s the second half of the intriguing question:
Let’s say I have two candidates for marriage to the protag, one a wonderful personality, and one with, say, a good personality, but not as good a match to the protagonist as the first. BUT. Let’s also say that the first candidate for engagement and matrimony is fat, while the second candidate — the one who isn’t quite as good a match — is lean, trim, and ranks high in looks. How are my readers to react should I match-make to number one candidate, verses how will they react should I match-make to number two candidate?
So far, even though the jury isn’t done deliberating, the answers come ranked like this:
While readers can understand matrimony to the fat candidate, almost across the board, they aren’t thrilled with the idea. However, should number two, the leaner, more aesthetically pleasing candidate be chosen, they feel more “right” about it, even though they already know that the choice might mean a less than excellent marital relationship and could mean divorce or at least trauma and conflict in the future.
So then I ask: What if marriage to number one proves totally perfect for both — wonderful, in fact?
Nope, say those I ask. Marriage to the fat person just doesn’t sit well say all but the most occasional voice.
Hmmmm.
And, what, you ask, am I going to choose? To marry or not to marry? And, if marry, to which candidate?
I’m not telling. 
(And, yes, I do know.)
Great point about how married characters are more restricted than the unmarried. In some ways, and dependant upon the story, the married character would be much more interesting than the single because of that ring on their finger, through their nose, whatever. I think this is why Willy Russell’s play-then-film Shirley Valentine was so successful — a married woman (and an ageing one at that) running off to Greece to ‘find’ herself? How dare she? And only by asking that question, by being with Shirley as she travels away and flirts with a lifestyle diametric to the one she has put up with her whole life, can we understand and agree with her reasons. This character challenged all late-middle-aged housewives about their lifestyles, and she made many women think deeply about what was left for them in their Autumn years on this planet.
Alternatively, the single character can be just as interesting in the correct story. Why is that character single in the first place, and why have they been single for so long? Is it self-imposed, or is society rejecting them for some reason? Much though you dislike Chick-Lit, EJ, I have to bring up Helen Fielding’s character of Bridget Jones and her diary. Here’s a great look inside the mind of a thirty-something woman, a single in the city who begins each diary entry with her weight for that day, how many cigarettes smoked, alcohol consumed and a list of food eaten. No guesses for how society has brain-washed this particular woman. The story questions are immediately apparent: will Bridget lose weight and a) get the guy, or b) become happy with her spinsterhood?
The two characters constrast enormously, but both are searching for something lacking in their lives and both are fighting a society that tries its utmost to control them — much like your less than aesthetically pleasing candidate for marriage in your manuscript.
The truth of your poll is a shame, isn’t it? But it gives us authors a brilliant challenge too: to change society’s misguided preconception about that type of character and to make your readers cheer for them instead.
And of all the writers I know, I’m certain you’re the one to do it.
~Womblin~
Odd thing about the poll I did, both as a handout at the local library and in a writer’s group, is that most of the respondents were women. Only seven men responded of whom four agreed with the majority that the book would be better by choosing the pretty one, rather than the heavy one. Three of the men said they would prefer the “right match” to the pretty girl. Of the women, the split was about 70% for the pretty one. There were a lot of notes on there that, in real life, they would hope that weight wouldn’t matter, but in the book, it would be “shocking” for a handsome male character to pick a fat woman.
I got suggestions to have the “right girl” lose weight first.
I also got suggestions that I was a beast for even asking the question.
The right girl should ‘lose weight’ yet you are a beast for asking the question? Crikey, what double-standards!
Strange you know, and perhaps a tell-tale sign of our indulgent and rich society, that it wasn’t too many years ago that plumper women were extremely fanciable and the skinnies were spurned.
~Womblin~
I think I should write a completely off the wall Big R and really throw everyone into a snit. *grin*
I think you should too.