Thoughts on Heroes and Stories
First off, I should just have a disclaimer on this blog that says, "Read everything Charlie Anders has ever written." Current case in point is her fascinating essay, "We Meed More Vampire Slayers -- Just Not More Buffy," wherein she, as usual, hits the nail on the head.
Writes Anders: "But after more consideration, I had a more nuanced feeling about this remake. First of all, the absence of Whedon's involvement is a symptom, not the cause, of the likely suckitude. Second of all, we need more heroes like Buffy — but more than that, I desperately want to see what the next thing after Buffy is. And third of all, there hasn't just been a shortage of strong female heroines since Buffy went away — there's been a shortage of strong heroes and stories about heroism, period. We're in a weirdly cynical era where we have tons of heroes but not much heroism."
She goes on to make a fascinating case about heroes in recent popular culture, how they're mostly "wish fulfillment and shininess, with no real heroism depicted on screen. Just as we're suffering from a villain recession, we also haven't had a hero who sacrifices, and does the right thing in spite of the cost, and saves people. Not in a while anyway."
But I don't know if I'm entirely willing to concede the point on heroes in the 21st Century. (The 21st Century, for our purposes, having begun in the mid-'90s or so. These things are never as neat and precise as you want them to be.) Indeed, it's a subject that I've been poking and prodding at for some time now, always feeling I'm only scratching the surface. Probably because I only ever am. But before you dip too deeply into the realm of what makes a hero and the few contemporaries (that aren't revamps) that might hold that title (although I think Harry Potter should definitely get the nod, as well as Aang from "Avatar: The Last Airbender") I think there's one major element of storytelling -- and the nature of contemporary stories -- that needs to be considered: controlling canon.
I talked about this a while back when I was writing about Buffy. Stories have always traveled and mutated over time -- a tale told by peasants in Germany gets written down by Charles Perrault, and then a different version by the Brothers Grimm, and then a different version by Disney Films, and then yet another version by Bill Willingham. On the one hand, we know which ones are best known -- most likely Grimm, Disney -- but there's always a sort of ... certainty ... that comes when one is confronted by the real tale. Grimm and Disney may be popular, but the old German folktale is still, in its odd way, in control. We can feel its certainty. With folk tales, one suspects its a function of the intrinsic darkness of the original stories, the warnings they were meant to convey still resonating.
With contemporary stories, though, it's tougher. Most of the new myths have corporate patrons, who are invested in spinning the story over and over again, in a variety of forms. Batman, for example, stars in five or so comics at any given time (often more) all set in the same continuity, as well as usually one or two that are not. ("Imaginary stories," if you will.) He's also the lead in a couple popular movies directed by Christopher Nolan, which are somewhat different from the popular movies directed by Tim Burton, or the TV show starring Adam West. And then there's the video games, the TV shows, what have you. The story gets told over and over again, each time a little different, but somehow all Batman. But what version of the story is in control ... is the guiding force that drives the others. One might argue it should be the current movies, with their overwhelming audience, but that doesn't seem to be the case. They're still, in most ways, dominated by the comics -- the core of that myth being the original Bob Kane and Bill Finger comics from the 1930s. But really, if you ask anyone who cares deeply about Batman what the real version of Batman that's out right now, they'll most likely point to the mainstream DC Comics titles.
Which gives us, in a stroke, three different dominant versions of the story: the original (core); the popular (the films); and the controlling, or "real" one (current comics). Is it fair to leave that last one to the whims of those who probably care most? I'm not sure one has a choice. It's pretty much the way it works, even if the distinctions eventually become harder to parse. For example, a film version of the DC comic Green Lantern is forthcoming, featuring Ryan Reynolds as Green Lantern Hal Jordan. Jordan was the star of the Green Lantern comics in the '60s, and the one most comic fans think of when they think of Green Lantern. But he was also the second character to have that name -- the first being Alan Scott, in the 1040s. Scott's still running around in the comics, and even had a brief cameo on Smallville, but while many, myself incuded, are fond, I doubt anyone considers him the central, driving force behind the Green Lantern mythology. But there have been other Green Lanterns, too, and not just in the comics. The Justice League cartoons mostly feature an African-American Green Lantern named John Stewart -- who was a replacement fro Jordan for some time in the comics, and now a Green Lantern alongside him. Stewart was used in the cartoon instead of Jordan to add much-needed diversity, but -- at least until the movie makes a bazillion dollars, is still the "popular" version of the character. (And you can imagine how a lot of African-Americans felt about seeing the black superhero from the cartoon being played by Ryan Reynolds. Or if you can't, you can read about it here.) Thus, the original version (Scott, in the '40s comics), the popular version (Stewart, in the cartoon) and the controlling version (Jordan, in the current comics) are way out of synch, a dynamic which may hurt the Reynolds movie, or just as likely, which the Reynolds movie will stabilize.
I've now gone waaaaay off course, but I think it's an important place to start when you talk about heroes in contemporary popular culture, because -- with the proliferation of media -- you need to be crystal clear which version you're talking about, and if you're talking about the myth of a character in the abstract, it pays to know which version is in control of that story.
More soon ... and if I have my way, I'll be talking about Shakespeare, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Who ...
Writes Anders: "But after more consideration, I had a more nuanced feeling about this remake. First of all, the absence of Whedon's involvement is a symptom, not the cause, of the likely suckitude. Second of all, we need more heroes like Buffy — but more than that, I desperately want to see what the next thing after Buffy is. And third of all, there hasn't just been a shortage of strong female heroines since Buffy went away — there's been a shortage of strong heroes and stories about heroism, period. We're in a weirdly cynical era where we have tons of heroes but not much heroism."
She goes on to make a fascinating case about heroes in recent popular culture, how they're mostly "wish fulfillment and shininess, with no real heroism depicted on screen. Just as we're suffering from a villain recession, we also haven't had a hero who sacrifices, and does the right thing in spite of the cost, and saves people. Not in a while anyway."
But I don't know if I'm entirely willing to concede the point on heroes in the 21st Century. (The 21st Century, for our purposes, having begun in the mid-'90s or so. These things are never as neat and precise as you want them to be.) Indeed, it's a subject that I've been poking and prodding at for some time now, always feeling I'm only scratching the surface. Probably because I only ever am. But before you dip too deeply into the realm of what makes a hero and the few contemporaries (that aren't revamps) that might hold that title (although I think Harry Potter should definitely get the nod, as well as Aang from "Avatar: The Last Airbender") I think there's one major element of storytelling -- and the nature of contemporary stories -- that needs to be considered: controlling canon.
I talked about this a while back when I was writing about Buffy. Stories have always traveled and mutated over time -- a tale told by peasants in Germany gets written down by Charles Perrault, and then a different version by the Brothers Grimm, and then a different version by Disney Films, and then yet another version by Bill Willingham. On the one hand, we know which ones are best known -- most likely Grimm, Disney -- but there's always a sort of ... certainty ... that comes when one is confronted by the real tale. Grimm and Disney may be popular, but the old German folktale is still, in its odd way, in control. We can feel its certainty. With folk tales, one suspects its a function of the intrinsic darkness of the original stories, the warnings they were meant to convey still resonating.
With contemporary stories, though, it's tougher. Most of the new myths have corporate patrons, who are invested in spinning the story over and over again, in a variety of forms. Batman, for example, stars in five or so comics at any given time (often more) all set in the same continuity, as well as usually one or two that are not. ("Imaginary stories," if you will.) He's also the lead in a couple popular movies directed by Christopher Nolan, which are somewhat different from the popular movies directed by Tim Burton, or the TV show starring Adam West. And then there's the video games, the TV shows, what have you. The story gets told over and over again, each time a little different, but somehow all Batman. But what version of the story is in control ... is the guiding force that drives the others. One might argue it should be the current movies, with their overwhelming audience, but that doesn't seem to be the case. They're still, in most ways, dominated by the comics -- the core of that myth being the original Bob Kane and Bill Finger comics from the 1930s. But really, if you ask anyone who cares deeply about Batman what the real version of Batman that's out right now, they'll most likely point to the mainstream DC Comics titles.
Which gives us, in a stroke, three different dominant versions of the story: the original (core); the popular (the films); and the controlling, or "real" one (current comics). Is it fair to leave that last one to the whims of those who probably care most? I'm not sure one has a choice. It's pretty much the way it works, even if the distinctions eventually become harder to parse. For example, a film version of the DC comic Green Lantern is forthcoming, featuring Ryan Reynolds as Green Lantern Hal Jordan. Jordan was the star of the Green Lantern comics in the '60s, and the one most comic fans think of when they think of Green Lantern. But he was also the second character to have that name -- the first being Alan Scott, in the 1040s. Scott's still running around in the comics, and even had a brief cameo on Smallville, but while many, myself incuded, are fond, I doubt anyone considers him the central, driving force behind the Green Lantern mythology. But there have been other Green Lanterns, too, and not just in the comics. The Justice League cartoons mostly feature an African-American Green Lantern named John Stewart -- who was a replacement fro Jordan for some time in the comics, and now a Green Lantern alongside him. Stewart was used in the cartoon instead of Jordan to add much-needed diversity, but -- at least until the movie makes a bazillion dollars, is still the "popular" version of the character. (And you can imagine how a lot of African-Americans felt about seeing the black superhero from the cartoon being played by Ryan Reynolds. Or if you can't, you can read about it here.) Thus, the original version (Scott, in the '40s comics), the popular version (Stewart, in the cartoon) and the controlling version (Jordan, in the current comics) are way out of synch, a dynamic which may hurt the Reynolds movie, or just as likely, which the Reynolds movie will stabilize.
I've now gone waaaaay off course, but I think it's an important place to start when you talk about heroes in contemporary popular culture, because -- with the proliferation of media -- you need to be crystal clear which version you're talking about, and if you're talking about the myth of a character in the abstract, it pays to know which version is in control of that story.
More soon ... and if I have my way, I'll be talking about Shakespeare, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Who ...
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