Heroism Throughout the History of Storytelling

     This was my first essay for Dr. Dial-Driver's Literary Traditions course. Apparently it wasn't quite the right type....too wide-ranging, I guess.

     I am missing the annual book sale of the Okmulgee Public Library, since instead I find myself typing this essay. Does this matter? Not really; it will be held next year, too, after all. On the other hand, it comes once a year; so, yes, it is disappointing. But more importantly, that freezing-cold basement is filled with wonderful books, which is a treasure trove for many different reasons. They are very cheap; also, unlike borrowing from the library, those bought can be kept permanently. Unlike Kindle books, they can actually be held, smelled and displayed haphazardly all over the house. Through them, we are able see the world, as Ray Bradbury’s Faber tells Montag in Fahrenheit 451: “Most of us can’t rush around, talk to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven’t time, money or that many friends” (82). But most importantly, books teach us, as humans are creatures wired for story. This is how we travel from the scripts of Greek tragedies Oedipus Rex and Medea to Shakespeare to the pages of Mark Twain, Agatha Christie and Stephen King; and crossing media, viewing the latest projects from Pixar, Marvel Studios and Joss Whedon; or listening to the stories told through song by Garth Brooks, Avril Lavigne, Brad Paisley and Taylor Swift.

      G.K. Chesterton says in his essay “The Flag of the World” that “we all owe much sound morality to the penny dreadfuls” (Orthodoxy 72). These story-fed teachings are not typically explicit; instead, as Martin Cothran writes in his article “Is Fiction False?” for The Classical Teacher, “They lead us to abstract truth through concrete reality,” which is shown on a practical level through the plot. Cothran says in his Classical Teacher article “The ‘Demon Irony’” that “the tragic irony of Sophocles’ Oedipus led the viewer to sympathize with the hero who is being victimized by fate”. William Goldman’s Princess Bride is in this vein, containing (sometimes harsh) truths necessary to know, as Goldman tells readers: “Life is not fair, and it never has been, and it’s never going to be” (187). Of characters like the heroes of the Greek stage and men of action like Westley and Inigo, Chesterton states, “They gained their morality by guarding their religion. They did not cultivate courage. They fought for their shrine, and found they had become courageous” (Orthodoxy 73). Like Leonato in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, we read so that when we encounter a villain, we know him for what he is, and so may avoid him (V.4.271-272). The merry war Beatrice has with Benedick is, in the words of The Princess Bride herself, farmgirl-turned-princess Buttercup: “because marriage involves love, and that is not a pastime at which I excel. I tried once, and it went badly” (Goldman 72).  Indeed, that is what Beatrice answers Don Pedro in Act II, Scene 1, lines 272-276. We must hang on to characters such as these, for In the words of Harold Bloom, “If you cannot read Shakespeare and his peers, then you will forfeit memory, and if you no longer remember, then you will not be able to think” (Fahrenheit 235).

     We readers are highly judgmental, as can be seen most days in English classes during discussions of course materials. This could be because we live in such a cynical age; it seems to be the only weapon available that ensures survival in the college environment. In their essay entitled “Corruptible Power” for the teacher’s guide Fantasy Media in the Classroom, Frances E. Morris and Emily Dial-Driver write that “Judgement should be based on experience and on knowledge of human nature – our own nature and that of others, both of which are a result of experience and education” (120). We know this, because we have read and consumed film, movies and TV widely; from British murder mysteries and futuristic space Westerns to ancient court tragedies and small-town character dramas. This gave us experience in empathy and other-oriented behavior, in addition to influencing our personal tastes in entertainment. For many college students, Harry Potter played a large role as one of the most-popular fictional friends of the past twenty years. Jim Ford writes in his essay “Fantasy Classics” that even though the books of British initialed authors like J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling are “rewarding works of literature, they often do not feel like literature to students” because “a primary purpose of literature is enjoyment”. Hopefully they would have been introduced to Tolkien, Twain, and Harper Lee before this, but as works like these are taught, they show that “literature” is not a word to dread, but instead is a joy to dive into (Fantasy Media 140).

     When we enjoy what we read, those books become dangerous, Cothran tells us in yet another article(“Harry Potter and the Attack of the Critics”), because they give readers ideas. Some of these ideas could be explosive; indeed, in his article “10 Ways to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child”(a condensed summary of his book with the same title), Anthony Esolen points out that “in the wrong hands, a good book is like a bomb housed within a couple of red pasteboard covers”. And what about the Revolutionary War? That was caused by ideas. Going even farther back to the Reformation? Still it was those explosive thoughts which caused all the change in the political landscape. The ideas of luxury and gluttony were part of the fall of the Roman Empire.

     That potential lethality of that weapon, of a good idea sparked by literature, increases dramatically the better it’s made, since that one idea can be pulled all out of proportion. So the key to defusing this bomb is simple: Supply many more. This way, as the collection of stories we’re familiar with grows, the bad ideas promoted by one character’s actions can be counterweighted by the remembrance of a fellow cast member, or even someone from a different story (“Attack of Critics”). Claudio’s falling wholeheartedly in love with Hero at nearly first sight is balanced out by Benedick’s more thought-intensive eventual admittance that he loves Beatrice. Kaylee the mechanic from Firefly evens out Eeyore’s gloom. The self-sacrificing courage displayed by Steve Rogers showcases the cowardice of Prince Humperdinck.

     To become a detective like Sam Spade or Jim Rockford in diving into questions we are we faced with; then to analyze the facts gathered and making our own conclusion, is ideally what a well-educated student should be able to accomplish (Morris and Dial-Driver 120).  We do this by ranging widely in our readings, paying particular attention to those unfashionably earnest plotlines where the hero grapples with an extrinsic conflict. For those types of stories believe that there is an ordering principle guiding the world; a hierarchy where greatness(in the sense of goodness) is prized, with its opposite being on the low end of that scale. With our irony-drenched expectations for modern books and movies, that hierarchy no longer exists. And it raises the question, given that annihilation of the rule book of that ordering principle, can there be a hero any longer?

     My answer would be yes….kind of. As a society which no longer recognizes religion as something to believe in, necessarily, heroes in the manner of Oedipus are out; since bowing to the will of the gods is deemed unrealistic. With the exception of Michael Crichton and GMO-protestors, in general science is seen as the answer to most of our questions. And so the route our 21^st century heroes take is that of the cinematic superpowered variety, where through quirks or accidents of science, humans gain special abilities and must use what moral compass they have developed in order to decide what to do with that power. The best of these films convey the same principle that Cothran talks of when he states that great literature is not necessarily that which is reread over and over, or even that contains some great truth; but instead a great piece of literature always has more layers to discover, and many more depths to plumb (“Attack of Critics”). Heroes provide that. Which is why heroism is so vital to enduring literature. And so our task as readers and writers is to remember keeping these characters and principles alive long enough to pass their wisdom onto others.

Works Cited

Bradbury, Ray. Fahrenheit 451. 1953. 60^th Anniversary Ed. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2013. Print.

                        Bloom, Harold. “Introduction to Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451”. 234-235.

Chesterton, G.K. “The Flag of the World”. Orthodoxy. 1908. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1995. Print. 

Cothran, Martin. “The ‘Demon Irony’”. The Classical Teacher. Memoria Press. Late Summer 2014. Web. 16 September 2015.

--------------------. “Harry Potter and the Attack of the Critics”. The Classical Teacher. Memoria Press. Spring 2008. Web. 16 September 2015.

---------------------. “Is Fiction False?” The Classical Teacher. Memoria Press. Late Summer 2007. Web. 17 September 2015.

Esolen, Anthony. “10 Ways to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child”. The Classical Teacher. Memoria Press. Late Summer 2011. Web. 16 September 2015.

Fantasy Media in the Classroom. Ed. Emily Dial-Driver, Sally Emmons and Jim Ford. Jefferson, N.C.: MacFarland & Company, 2012. Print. 

                        Ford, Jim. “Fantasy Classics”. 138-146.

Morris, Frances E. and Emily Dial-Driver. “Corruptible Power”.105-120.

Goldman, William. The Princess Bride. 1972.  New York: Del Rey/Ballantine, October 1987. Print. 

Shakespeare, William. Much Ado About Nothing. 1599? Ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 1995. Print.