I worry that all the heroes are gone.

Our first heroes were not our own. They were fathered by gods and guided by goddesses. They built entire cities and committed atrocities. They could do anything. They were subject to no mortal law. They could not be defeated.

Perseus. Heracles. Theseus.

When we no longer believed the gods granted our heroes their super-human power, we fell back on impossibilities. We puffed our heroes out of campfire smoke, gave them tokens and talismans, allowed them to defy the laws of reality. A boy who became a king by pulling a sword from a stone. An outlaw who could thread a needle with an arrow. A giant who scooped up part of Ireland and flung it into the sea.

King Arthur. Robin Hood. Finn mac Cumhaill.

When we forgot magic, we turned our men into heroes ourselves. We made folk heroes, heroes that belonged not to the gods but to us alone. We gave them powers no mortal man could possibly possess. We turned them into legends and wrote them into songs. We gave them a hammer too heavy for a mortal man to lift, the secret languages of all the animals, a blue ox as big as the sky.

John Henry. Johnny Appleseed. Paul Bunyan.

Heroes showed us how we could be better than human.

Heroes and Fear

Every person has fears that keep them from becoming everything they might be. The fear of failure, of falling, of being mocked, humiliated, rejected from society, of death itself.

Not a hero in the pantheon lacks fear. Heroes showed us fear could be overcome out of a sense of duty. No hero ever rode out to slay a monster simply because that monster was blocking his path. They fought because someone was in trouble – a woman, a city, humanity itself, the fate of the world.

We are only human. Heroes show us that we don’t always have to be.

What Happened to Our Heroes

I don’t know when we stopped doing this, or why. I’m inclined to blame television. It’s hard to believe – even if you only ever half-believe – the stories about your heroes when you’ve literally seen it all.

What we have now instead of heroes are role models. Men and women who have achieved a great deal in their lives, whose list of achievements is long and proud and all too real. We haven’t turned them into legends, we’ve endowed them with no powers they don’t actually possess. We’re quick to leap on the foibles: a bad haircut, a strange gait, a weak handshake.

Role models aren’t heroes. They’re people like you and me, people we could aspire to become.

And that’s the trouble.

Heroes Should Exceed Our Grasp

Having role models we can become is dangerous. It means we could achieve this goal one day.

It means we could be done.

In our minds, being “done” is equivalent to death. You’re finished. You’re over. You’ve got nothing left to give. We don’t want to be finished, so when we dream we aspire to be things we know we cannot possibly achieve: rock stars, superheroes, fictional characters whose every move is perfection.

If we aspire to be something we can achieve, that’s it. That’s the end.

If we aspire to be heroes – people who are beyond human capability – then the story is never done. And we will live forever.

It’s not true, of course. It’s a myth we tell ourselves so that we can banish the fears that hold us back. But what’s the alternative? The American dream?

No matter where you start from, you can become anything you want to be.

But then what?

Creating New Heroes

All the heroes we have ever had came from the heroes before them. One of the reasons I tell stories here is that stories always contain heroes – and we need our heroes back.

We need to aspire to become something greater than human. We need to be set free of the fear that we will achieve the quests of a lifetime before that lifetime is up. We need to remember that though we are only human, we can be more.

The poet Robert Browning said that a man’s reach should exceed his grasp.

Heroes are what we reach for.

Comments

  1. I completely agree. We should always strive for greatness, even–and especially–when we believe that greatness cannot be obtained.

    I do disagree with the idea of completion, however. Achieving greatness or doing something heroic should never equate to finishing, because it is far more difficult to be consistently great over the remainder of one’s life. I would argue that anyone could do something heroic, but it requires someone of an inherently different nature to act with consistent heroism over the long term.

    I have enjoyed this blog, and I am looking forward to reading your future posts!

  2. I think part of the problem with heroes as they relate to modern US culture is that they require an quality for their success to the rest of us can’t aspire. The ancient Greek and Roman heroes had gods’ blood in their veins. Arthur was son of a king and backed by a wizard; Finn mac Cumhaill was a giant. Even John Henry and Paul Bunyan had supernormal strength and size. All of these things separated them from other men; no mortal human could acquire the characteristics required to be heroic under these qualifications.

    (Robin Hood is arguably a counter-example here, because his archery skill was just that – trained skill. But before this post it hadn’t actually occurred to me to think of him as a hero as such!)

    The modern tales of heroism that stick with us – either fictional (I just finished watching Ugly Betty) or real-life (Justin Bieber comes immediately to mind) – also require that external force. If Justin Bieber hadn’t been Discovered, he would still be in public high school and singing in the choir. If Betty hadn’t been noticed in the first episode by Bradford Meade and uplifted (I’m consciously referring to David Brin’s series here), she would never have had the opportunities that allowed her to be successful.

    The problem comes from the fusion of the American Ideal – the Self-Made Person – and heroism. A Self-Made Person by definition can’t perform deeds unperformable by normal humans, because they are normal humans. But heroes by definition can’t be self-made people because they have supernormal qualities, inherent or granted.

    So in order to craft American heroes, we have to combine them. Because American heroes must be self-made, they can’t have supernormal qualities – but because they must succeed beyond the ability of the average person, they must be uplifted by someone in even greater power. (Wall Street, for example – Charlie Sheen, the son of a steelworker, becomes a New York power broker through Michael Douglas’s intervention.)

    That leaves a great number of people waiting to be uplifted, whether it’s by being Discovered as a talent or Rescued by a modern-day prince. Either way, it’s a dangerous proposition, because most people never will be Discovered or Rescued. We have to make what we can with what we have.

    That, I think, is the greater argument for having supernatural heroes (and we do see those, in superhero comics, movies, and television) – by explicitly separating them from mortal humans, heroes can provide explicitly unattainable examples. We can aspire to their heights without any belief that we’ll be able to reach them – but they can still impel us to go as far as we can in the hope that just maybe, we have gods’ blood in our veins too.
    Chris Anthony recently posted..Everyday Delight 40- Unconventional EditionMy ComLuv Profile

  3. I agree – we do need our heroes back! Real Heroes! I don’t think people even know what you are talking about anymore! :)
    Great post! thank you! Tess

Speak Your Mind





CommentLuv Enabled
 
 

Tell Me Another

Saying the Magic Words

You have been given an infinite number of magic words in your life. There are magic words for every circumstance, every dragon you have to fight, every quest you have to embark upon. They are different words every time. You will not know what they are. You will need someone to tell you. The trouble [...]

Keep reading...

Feeding Your Sleeves

No one admires the wealthy. There are people who are both wealthy and admirable. But no one admires wealth in and of itself. We often wish we were millionaires. We do not believe that being a millionaire would make us better people. Less stressed people, certainly. Happier people, perhaps. But not different people. We do [...]

Keep reading...

 

There Are Three Portals. Choose Wisely

THE APOLOGUE: WHAT CAME BEFORE

I grew up believing in stories the way some believe in God.

Stories were how I learned what was good and what was wrong. They were how I discovered there was a greater purpose to one's life than simple, immediate pleasures. Stories taught me that there were always keys to all the doors, that there were always words that would grant safe passage.

Stories taught me that there was such a thing as a hero's life, and that it was the only one worth living.

Go on.

THE LETTER: VIGNETTES AND VARIATIONS

Between each story I think a lot. I scratch out drafts, change words, decide to tell it through someone else's eyes. Every morning, I write out a sketch of what I'm trying to grasp, and over time it's taken the form of a letter.

These letters are personal, unpolished, and precarious. They're also where you'll first hear about new unfurlings as I create them. If this all sounds like your brand of whiskey, tell me your name, and give me a place where letters of this sort can be received.

If you're looking for the RSS feed for this site, you can find it here.