Does the Hero’s Journey Make Us Blind to Real Heroes?

Trivia question of the day…  What do Finding Nemo, The Matrix, Watership Down, The Hunger Games, Star Wars, The Lion King, and Harry Potter all have in common?  If you’re a writer of fiction, you probably already know the answer…  Every one of these films and novels follows a story structure known as the Hero’s Journey.

Also commonly referred to as the monomyth, the Hero’s Journey was first documented by mythologist Joseph Campbell in his 1949 nonfiction book, The Hero with a Thousand Faces.  Campbell’s thesis was that nearly all heroic myths—regardless of time period or culture—tend to follow a specific series of steps in a (largely) predictable order.  Beginning in the ‘Ordinary World,’ the hero receives a ‘Call to Adventure,’ which he/she initially rejects.  Then comes ‘Meeting the Mentor’ (also known as ‘Supernatural Aid’), followed by ‘Crossing the Threshold.’  After that, the proverbial game is afoot.

I’m not going to map out the entire cycle here.  There are endless books, videos, diagrams, articles, essays, and blogs on the subject, many of which are available for free right here on the good old interwebs.

I’m more interested in the impact of Campbell’s famous myth structure on our perception of heroism.  Specifically, does the continual reinforcement of the fictional hero pattern actually interfere with our ability to recognize real-life heroes?

Before we try to answer that, let’s look at how the monomyth structure made the leap from an obscure scholarly work to the mainstream of public consciousness.

In the mid-1980s, Chris Vogler, a story consultant for Walt Disney Pictures, wrote a seven-page memo titled A Practical Guide to the Hero with a Thousand Faces.  The memo—which has since become almost a holy relic in the film industry—outlined the major points of the monomyth, and provided a map for folding them into the well-known three act structure used in nearly all commercial movies.

It’s worth noting that filmmakers were studying Campbell’s writings long before Chris Vogler came along.  In fact, George Lucas worked directly with Joseph Campbell in the 1970s, during the making of the first Star Wars film, to ensure that the phases of the Hero’s Journey were being properly captured.  This was six or eight years before Vogler wrote his famous seven-page memo, and Lucas wasn’t the first writer/director to be influenced by the monomyth.

Nevertheless, it was Vogler’s now-famous memo that ultimately kicked the process into overdrive.  This was in the age of the fax machine, and suddenly Hollywood’s telephone wires were buzzing with faxed copies of the memo.  Every studio executive, director, producer, screen writer, and talent agent was scrambling to lay hands on the document.

To say that the effect on filmmaking was transformational would almost be an understatement.  If you don’t believe me, look at nearly any successful movie made in Hollywood since 1985.  Let’s take The Matrix as an example.  Call to Adventure?  Check!  Refusal of the Call?  Check!  Meeting the Mentor?  Check!  Crossing the Threshold?  Check!

Beginning to see the pattern?  It’s there, in movie after movie, and in book after book.  Hell, I went there myself in Dome City Blues, without even meaning to.  I’d seen the monomyth depicted so many times that it slipped into my subconscious.  With no intent on my part, it influenced the shape of David Stalin’s heroic journey.

Does this make Dome City Blues a flawed work?  I don’t think so.  (Or at least I hope not.)  I’m not one of the growing body of writers who are turning against Campbell and his theories.  I don’t happen to agree that following the Hero’s Journey will automatically produce cookie-cutter stories.  As Campbell pointed out, the tales of Gilgamesh, Beowulf, and Moses all map fairly well to the monomyth cycle.  When you compare these to Finding Nemo, The Matrix, and Watership Down, it’s clearly possible to create wildly different stories within the framework of the monomyth.  A writer can spend an entire career exploring the boundaries of the Hero’s Journey without ever producing two works that are recognizably similar.

So why have I been deliberately turning away from this time-honored structure in my military novels?  I’m glad you asked…

For all of its usefulness as a storytelling device, I’m increasingly concerned about the impact it appears to be having in the real world.  As we see the pattern repeated again and again, it becomes more and more reinforced in our subconscious minds.

This is how a hero acts.

This is what a hero does first.

This is what a hero does next.

This is how a hero defeats the enemy.

This is how a hero accomplishes the quest.

Somewhere in all those hundreds (and thousands) of fictional repetitions, we start to lose our ability to recognize real heroes.  I had the privilege of serving in the company of real heroes, and I can tell you that their journeys bear very little resemblance to the mythic hero structure.

When the call to adventure comes, real heroes don’t even think about refusing.  They pack up their gear, saddle up, and go where they’re needed.  Real heroes are not chosen by prophesy.  They step forward, and consciously choose to make a difference in the world.  Real heroes rarely have great and mythic adventures.  Instead, they maintain their equipment, continually train themselves and their coworkers, stand endless watches, and drill, drill, drill.  Much of their lives amount to drudgery that wouldn’t play very well in a Hollywood movie.  When the moment of conflict comes, real heroes don’t leap forward like avenging angels, brandishing swords, or lances, or magic wands.  They concentrate on their own little piece of the struggle, carrying out their duties under enemy fire, or in dirty and life-threatening conditions, perfectly aware that their efforts will almost certainly go unsung.

And when they return to the ‘Ordinary World,’ they will not be heralded as figures of legend, nor will they be transformed into what Campbell called the ‘Master of Two Worlds.’  They will begin preparing for their next deployment, and waiting for the next ‘Call to Adventure.’

I hope my readers won’t take this as an indictment of the monomyth construct.  That’s absolutely not my intent.  I’ve enjoyed many movies and books that conform to the hero cycle.  In my opinion, it’s a hell of a good way to tell a story.

I just want to remind the world that real heroes aren’t imbued with the mythic aura of Gilgamesh, or Beowulf, or even Luke Skywalker.  Real heroes are more likely to resemble the man or woman standing next to you in the supermarket checkout line.  If you’re looking through the lens of the Campbell’s monomyth, you’re never going to see them at all.