There Are No Saints

Mara serves as the novel’s second protagonist. As a dynamic character, she evolves from a struggling, powerless artist into someone who gains agency through her relationship with Cole, embodying the theme of Calculated Self-Destruction as a Strategy for Survival through her deliberate choice to enter dangerous situations that ultimately advance her position.

Mara’s defining characteristics are her artistic sensitivity and fierce independence. Despite her poverty and background of abuse, she maintains unwavering dedication to her art, working multiple jobs to support her creative pursuits while refusing to compromise her artistic vision. Her instinctive understanding of color, composition, and aesthetic balance impresses even Cole, who rarely admires others’ work. This sensitivity extends beyond technical skill to include emotional insight, as Mara consistently sees through Cole’s various personas to the person beneath. Her ability to recognize authenticity versus performance also stems from her childhood experiences with her manipulative mother, making her particularly attuned to deception and emotional manipulation.

Another crucial trait is her complex relationship with danger and control. Mara chooses to engage with Cole despite recognizing his dangerous nature. Her decisions to confront him about the night in the woods, to accept his mentorship, and ultimately to submit to him sexually represent calculated risks rather than naive trust. She explains this philosophy when she tells Cole, “I don't have any faith. I learned early that some people have no kindness inside them. […] I saw who [my mother] was at an early age. And I see who you are, too” (134). Mara thus leverages her own vulnerability to gain access to opportunities and power that would otherwise remain unavailable to someone of her social status.

Mara’s character development revolves around her gradual acceptance of her own darkness and desires. Initially, she maintains clear moral boundaries, insisting that hurting others is always wrong. However, her experiences with Cole progressively erode these boundaries, particularly during their sexual encounter where she begs him to “hit [her] harder” (238). In keeping with the conventions of dark romance, the novel frames this transformation not as “corruption” but as self-discovery—an embrace of aspects of herself that society would condemn. Her artistic evolution parallels this personal journey, as her paintings become increasingly powerful and authentic when she stops trying to create “safe” art and instead channels her genuine experiences and emotions into her work.

Shaw functions as the novel’s primary antagonist, an impulsive predator whose lack of self-control contrasts sharply with Cole’s methodical approach to violence. As a static character, Shaw remains fundamentally unchanged throughout the narrative, serving as a foil to highlight Cole’s capacity for growth and emotional development. His character represents the most destructive aspects of the theme of Art as Creation and Destruction, as his violence lacks the artistic precision and meaning that Cole brings to his murders.

Shaw’s defining characteristics are his impulsive brutality and his desperate need for recognition. Shaw’s murders follow emotional patterns, occurring in cycles of three that correspond to his psychological state. His approach to violence reflects his artistic style, where “all the color, all the bold strokes, all the symbolism hit[] you over the head” (1). Similarly, Shaw’s murders are described as frenzied, with bodies so mutilated that “his subjects can rarely be identified by teeth or even fingerprints” (1), revealing his need to obliterate rather than transform his victims. This emotionality drives his desire to impress Cole but also constantly thwarts it, as Cole views Shaw’s lack of self-control with scorn.

Shaw’s second crucial trait is his manipulative charm, which he uses to lure victims and maintain his public persona. His carefully constructed public image demonstrates his understanding of social performance, though his mask lacks the sophisticated gradations of Cole’s various personas. His interaction with Mara at the gallery showcases his duality, as he appears genuinely charming and attractive while harboring murderous intentions. His success with women like Erin demonstrates his effectiveness at this deception, making him particularly dangerous because his victims willingly accompany him.

Shaw’s role in the narrative extends beyond that of an antagonist, as he also becomes the catalyst for Cole’s transformation. His decision to leave Mara as a “gift” for Cole is the novel’s inciting incident, creating the obsession that ultimately humanizes Cole. Shaw’s recognition of Mara at the Halloween party and his subsequent murder of Erin represent his attempts to reclaim control over the situation he created, demonstrating his inability to accept that his manipulation of Cole backfired. His character serves as a warning about the consequences of unchecked predatory behavior and emotional volatility, contrasting with Cole’s evolution toward emotional connection and self-awareness.

Sonia serves as Cole’s loyal assistant and gallery manager. As a static but round character, she demonstrates unwavering competence and discretion while occasionally revealing glimpses of genuine concern for Cole’s well-being. Her professional relationship with Cole highlights his capacity for sustained human connection, albeit within carefully controlled parameters.

Sonia’s primary function involves the role she plays (not fully wittingly) in facilitating Cole’s manipulation of Mara’s career while providing plausible deniability about his true motivations. Her execution of Cole’s instructions regarding Mara’s studio space and grant money demonstrates her unquestioning loyalty and professional efficiency. However, her curiosity about Cole’s relationship with Mara and her emotional reaction to his destruction of the solar model suggest that she possesses a deeper understanding of his psychology than most people in his orbit, though Mara believes that she lacks awareness of Cole’s true coldness.

Erin functions as Mara’s roommate and closest friend. As a static character who dies midway through the duology, Erin’s primary narrative purpose involves demonstrating the real consequences of Cole and Shaw’s dangerous game while providing insight into Mara’s capacity for human connection.

Erin’s characterization emphasizes her sensual confidence and loyalty to her friends. Her willingness to confront Shaw on Mara’s behalf and her aggressive defense of Mara’s interests at Zam Zam demonstrate her fierce protective instincts. Her sexual encounter with Shaw, which she describes as lasting only a brief time but being “nice,” establishes the connection that ultimately leads to her death, making her an innocent victim of the predators’ rivalry. Her murder, staged to recreate Millais’s Ophelia, transforms her into unwilling art, embodying the theme of art as creation and destruction through Shaw’s grotesque aesthetic vision.

Officer Hawks is the face of law enforcement in the novel—a competent officer whose investigation provides external pressure on the protagonists while highlighting the limitations of legal justice when confronting sophisticated predators. As a static character, Hawks maintains professional skepticism while demonstrating genuine concern for survivors, serving as a moral compass that contrasts with the protagonists’ flexible ethics.

Hawks’s interrogation technique with Mara reveals his psychological insight and investigative competence. His recognition that the killer staged Erin’s body for a reason demonstrates his attention to detail, while his skepticism about Mara’s accusations against Shaw reflects a lack of evidence rather than incompetence. His character serves to illustrate how easily intelligent criminals can evade legal consequences, reinforcing the novel’s exploration of justice versus revenge. His promise to “be in touch” establishes an ongoing external threat that extends beyond the novel’s conclusion (257).

Joanna functions as Mara’s practical roommate and fills the role of the responsible friend who provides stability and support. Her artistic pursuits and organizational skills within the chaotic household demonstrate her competence and reliability, making her apparent suspicion of Mara after Erin’s death particularly significant.

Frank serves as comic relief, with his casual marijuana use and laidback attitude providing contrast to the novel’s darker elements. His friendship with Mara and his emotional reaction to Erin’s death demonstrate the genuine bonds within the artistic community.

Arthur is Mara’s gruff but caring boss; his restaurant provides her with both employment and community. His immediate attraction to Cole’s wealth and his protective attitude toward Mara illustrate the complex class dynamics that permeate the novel’s social landscape.

Danvers represents the archetype of the petty critic. His personal vendetta against Cole leads to his destruction, and his murder early in the novel establishes Cole’s predatory nature.