Saturday, August 31, 2013

The Hero's Journey of Kal-El

I used to think that "the hero's journey" was an antiquated method of telling a heroic story, but with the recent influx of superhero movies from both the DC and Marvel Universe, I now see that every hero story, with minor deviations, follows Joseph Campbell's monomyth.  I recently saw the new Superman reboot Man of Steel, and, besides its mediocrity in telling the story of Superman, it did refresh my memory on the lore of our comic book caped crusader.  And no surprise, his story fits Campbell's monomyth almost exactly.

While his story begins in the planet Krypton, he was only and infant and had no recollection of his home, so I will skip this part of the story to help prove my point.  We are introduced to Kal-El, or Clark, as a young boy living in an ordinary farmhouse with his two, ordinary parents.  Clark grows up knowing that he was special, but must stifle his own abilities as the ordinary world he lives in is not ready for him.  One day, as Clark is struggling with his inability to fit in with the other kids, his adopted father counsels him and shows him the spaceship in which Clark was sent to earth, revealing to Clark his true origin and telling Clark that he was meant to do something great in this world.

At first, Clark refuses  his call to adventure.  He floats from job to job, avoids making friends, and keeps his powers a secret.  Unexpected circumstances happen, however, and Clark is forced to use his powers to save dozens of lives from an exploding oil rig.  After the incident, he continues to be a drifter, trying to find a place where he belongs with little success until he stumbles upon the frozen Kryptonian spaceship.

And as the monomyth suggests, Clark now meets with his mentor.  In the movie, the Mentor comes in the form of his father's digitally fabricated consciousness.  This consciousness talks to Clark about the story of the destruction of Krypton and fills Clark with a purpose to protect the people on Earth from Zod.  Clark crosses the threshold by donning the skin-tight suit and cape and walks through the spaceship door into the world as a new man.  Clark, now filled with confidence and purpose, begins to test his abilities.  Clark experiments with his Kryptonian strength and abilities as well as befriending Lois Lane, an ally in whom he can trust.

The approach and ordeal is Clark's confrontation with Zod's henchmen and the terraforming machine.  He succeeds in defeating his foes as well as destroying the terraforming machine, saving Earth.  It is assumed that the conflict is over but as Clark assesses the destruction of  Metropolis, he finds that General Zod is still alive.  Zod's resurrection serves as the final test for Clark as he is forced to choose between his  own race and the people of Earth.  Clark makes his decision and kills Zod, proving his loyalty to Earth.  With this, Clark assumes the role of Earth's protector and guardian and finds his place in the "ordinary world" in which he lives.


Shelley and Moffat

One of the major themes throughout Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is isolation and loneliness and what it does to someone.  Reassessing this theme got me thinking about one of my favorite tv shows, Doctor Who.  In the show, a human-like, well-dressed alien with a British accent, calling himself "The Doctor", travels through all of time and space discovering the universe.  The basic plot of the show is that this suave yet quirky alien, throughout his travels, will acquire human companions to accompany him.

Each season of the show follows the adventures The Doctor has with his companion or companions until they are inevitably replaced by new humans as the current companions and The Doctor, for some unforeseeable circumstance such as a memory loss or a time lock or a death, must part ways.  Although the show, for the most part, is joyful and full of adventure, there are moments where the human side of The Doctor is revealed.  We eventually learn that The Doctor is of a species called "Time Lords", and that during the Time Lord's attempt to destroy Earth, The Doctor protected Earth while simultaneously destroying his entire species.  The Doctor now roam the galaxy as the last living Time Lord, and it is this loneliness that causes him to constantly recruit new human companions.  Because of Time Lords' naturally much longer life span, however, the Doctor knows that he will eventually again be alone as he outlives all of his companions.

Like Frankenstein's creature, the Doctor also seeks companionship.  However, although at first slightly reluctant, the people the Doctor invite to join him on his journey almost always agree.  The monster faced a different fate.  The monster was shunned by every human it met and was exiled to be alone in the wilderness.  What was the difference between these two lonely beings that made the Doctor a desirable companion?  While it is easy to say that their outward appearance is a major major factor, their appearance cannot be the only factor, as the Doctor has had companions of different intergalactic species who are revolted by the sight of Time Lords.

This brings us to one of the themes that is ubiquitous in Doctor Who but is no where to be seen in Frankenstein, acceptance.  Throughout the series, the theme of acceptance is constantly being reiterated.  The writer of the shows seem to highlight the kind nature of human beings that, throughout human history, has been increasingly widespread as more and more groups of people are welcomed in the societal and global community.  Shelley, however, disagreed with this notion and in Frankenstein, highlighted more of the social ostracism of some people that was more prevalent in her time.

I think the comparison of these two fictions, one written with the values of a writer in the 1800s, one written with the outlook of writers of current time, show a paradigm shift in what we, as a society, consider to be human nature.  Shelley's Frankenstein highlights the evil and wretchedness of society, while Moffat's Doctor Who focuses on the growth of society and mankind as a whole, and the possibilities of what that growth can accomplish in the future. 

Monday, August 26, 2013

I Like Commercial Fiction and I'm not Ashamed!

Over the summer, I was introduced to the A Song of Ice and Fire series by my dad and shortly after lost half of my summer engulfed in the wonderful, cruel, fictional world George R. R. Martin created.  Being introduced to the book series knowing that a television series adapted to it exists, I expected a cookie-cutter TV medieval fantasy where the good guys triumph and learn an important lesson on the way or the  misunderstood bad guys learn the true meaning of Christmas and promise to never rape and pillage again.  I was wrong.

The first book of the series A Game of Thrones began with our introduction to the Stark family.  The beginning of the story had an underlying tone of hope as we are introduced to the young members of the Stark family.  So far characterized as a good ol' fashion family of morally decent human beings and led by Eddard Stark, the traditional fearsome, courageous warrior who is now a father that teaches his children to be brave and righteous, the Starks seem to be the implied heroes of the story who will triumph in the end.   That'll change eventually.  The narrative is told in a somewhat chronological manner, with each chapter being told from the perspective of a different main character.  As the book progresses and Eddard embarks on his 'hero's journey', we are introduced to more characters, each devious and somewhat power hungry, many of whom's eyes we later see the story through.  The Starks find themselves separated and  further entangled into the plots of the villains around them and the tone of the book slowly changes.  The novel ends with Eddard Stark, unarguably the most traditional 'heroic' character in the story being publicly beheaded while his entire family is marked as enemies of the state, barring his oldest daughter, who is expected to marry the boy-king who gave the order to behead him.  

What I loved about A Game of Thrones is that not only does George R. R. Martin creates characters with real human vices who seem to jump out of the pages, he creates a world around them that feels strangely real.  In this world, none of the characters are safe, no matter how heroic or righteous.  Eddard Stark, the implied protagonist of the book, was honorable and knightly to the point of being two-dimensional.  And he died.  We are given an insight to what these characters are thinking as they interact with the world they live in through the way Martin chose to write the book.  Each chapter being through perspective of a different character allowed us to have a very human connection to the characters as we see the choices they make, good or bad, for righteousness or evil.  To be able to see a conversation through both perspectives allows us to see the overall story in a deeper sense that makes the misfortunes that occurs to the main characters almost bearable.  Almost.  One of the few reasons I've refrained from watching too many episodes of the adapted television series is that I do not know if I could cope with seeing the death of my most beloved characters being reenacted in high-definition as sad violin music plays in the background.


Semi-related:
There was a joke I saw on the internet while surfing through the forums of grieving ASoIaF fans:

George R. R. Martin walks into a bar.
...
Everyone you've ever loved dies.