Showing posts with label The Monomyth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Monomyth. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 28, 2020

The Enigmatic Journey Within All of Us

Star Wars! And Freud! And Oedipus, oh my! What I really got from "The Monomyth" reading was not the journey of the hero--but rather, what makes that journey possible. With Star Wars, we get the classic hero with Luke Skywalker. He's orphaned from birth, and he then saw the burned bodies of his only other relatives who raised him. He then has a mission, with nothing to lose, because he's never had much. Heroes tend to be born not from upbringings of privilege or excess, but rather they have struggled, continue to struggle, and are able to overcome it through their determination and resilience they have formed from childhood. A quote that particularly stood out to me from this reading was:

Full circle, from the tomb of the womb to the womb of the tomb, we come: an ambiguous, enigmatical incursion into a world of solid matter that is soon to melt from us, like the substance of a dream. And, looking back at what had promised to be our own unique, unpredictable, and dangerous adventure, all we find in the end is such a series of standard metamorphoses as men and women have undergone in every quarter of the world, in all recorded centuries, and under every odd disguise of civilization. 


So what is important here, is not only the journey of the individual, but how every individual journey is affected by each other. This article touched a lot on motherhood and how we as humans are more reliant on our mothers from birth than any other mammal. The compassion we have from a loving mother affects us. The loss we have from an absent mother affects us. What we have, what we have lost, and what we have never known through our relationships and intertwining journeys is paramount. The journey of the hero is only possible, not because of the individual themselves, but because of other journeys that preceded them. Our existences are but fleeting, and is both in our control and out of it.

The predestined hero

Maybe the answer is obvious to some, but nevertheless I'm curious: why is the archetype of a hero detached from their birth parents continually re-written? Examples frequently appear: Simba (The Lion King), Harry Potter (Harry Potter), Peter Parker (Spiderman)...and of course Luke Skywalker (Star Wars). Upon further reading this quote from Campbell slightly clarifies the point: "...for now it appears that the perilous journey was not a labor of attainment but re attainment, not discovery but rediscovery. The godly powers sought and dangerously won are revealed to have been within the heart of the hero all the time" (39). Still I'm curious what others think in regard to why were drawn to this story-line.

Image result for simba lion king
Disney's The Lion King (2019). Image sourced from Amazon.com. Originally distributed by Walt Disney World Pictures, visual effects supervised by Robert Legato, Elliot Newman and Adam Valdez.

The Hero's Journey For Normies

The structure and idea of The Hero's Journey, is great for us all to enjoy as we live our normal day to day lives. It gives us an insight on worlds unimaginable, of problems and scenarios only in our dreams that we can experience in a sense. We can't contribute to the story ourselves but it gives us a sense of vacation from the norm. In Star Wars, we are in the distant past in a galaxy not like ours. We follow the story of a young white man and his journey. As a black woman myself I couldn't fully immerse myself but the challenges Luke faces, his mentor and other characters who help and join him along the way we can see through his eyes and ride along with him as we too are experiencing this other world together. Luke's right of passage in a way is also our own that lead into the other movies following. The structure may be reused and done over and over but it has a purpose, and what isn't broken shouldn't need to be fixed, only tweaked.

The Victory of Death

Campbell writes, "Only birth can conquer death - the birth, not of the old thing again, but of something new. Within the soul, within the body social, there must be - if we are to experience long survival - a continuous 'recurrence of birth' (palingenesia) to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death" (16).

While I understand and agree with what he is saying, he seems to directly contradict himself a few sentences later when he states, "When our day is come for the victory of death, death closes in; there is nothing we can do, except be crucified - and resurrected; dismembered totally, and then reborn" (17). Perhaps he is not contradicting himself necessarily, rather, he is not being specific enough. When we experience the "victory of death" and then are suddenly dismembered and reborn, are we to come back the same, or does the dismemberment result in something new? Does it really matter, or is the resurrection itself the vital step in our transformation to become something entirely different and therefore "heroic?"

Monday, January 27, 2020

Two Sides to Every Coin

Something that has fascinated me as of late, and has apparently fascinated many others, is the idea of evil within a story. As "the Monomyth" discussed, there is a a specific pattern followed by most every story that involves a journey. On page 30, it says a key part of the description of the journey is, "a decisive victory is won." This means that while the hero is the main subject of whatever story you're looking at (take your pick), there was also a force actively fighting against the hero.

I find that often times, no matter how glorified the hero is made out to be, the villain becomes the true character of interest. For example, as recognizable as the name "Luke Skywalker" may be, the name "Darth Vader" will always be just a step ahead of it. Why is that? Why do we fixate so much on the villain, if everything in the story is telling us to focus on the hero? Is it perhaps because the villains are closer to us as characters than the untouchable hero? I wouldn't think so; I'd say we are closer to the character who wants to do the right thing than the character who throws a hissy fit every time someone disagrees with them.

The line between good and evil becomes much more blurred in the most recent installments to the Star Wars franchise, with both main characters often teetering just on the edge that divides good and evil. And I would argue that Rey and Kylo Ren are talked about and recognized equally. What that says about the Hero's Journey, I'm not exactly sure, but I do find it very interesting.

Secondhand Hero's Journey


Darth Vader's influence on the real world
https://giphy.com/gifs/pepsi-darth-vader-1997-ylyUQnqAdMNs4QITOE 


Myths follow a rite of passage structure because it’s something with which every human can connect. It’s not just a common human experience, it is needed. Since we can’t all be heroes summoned by a mentor to adventure around the galaxy, myths act as supplementary experiences to “supply the symbols that carry the human spirit forward” (11). In the case of Star Wars, the fictional power of the force can become a real source of strength to people who connect with that symbol of divinity. Would Star Wars have had the same impact if it didn’t follow the pattern of the monomyth? Possibly. But part of its success must be attributed to the way it tapped into this innate human need to have secondhand life-changing experiences. Which is how modern texts that tap into that “transcendent anonymity” (46) of mythology like Star Wars can legitimately change the way people see the world. We withdraw from the ordinary when we enter the movie theater, we experience the film, and then we return to the world with our lives enhanced.  

Heroism Played Out



Campbell, in arguing against the "happily ever after" conclusion, outlines several outcomes for the hero on pages 36-37:

"The return and reintegration with society, which is indispensable to the continuous circulation of spiritual energy into the world, and which, from the standpoint of the community, is the justification of the long retreat, the hero himself may find the most difficult requirement of all.  For if he has won through, like the Buddha, to the profound repose of complete enlightenment, there is danger that the bliss of this experience may annihilate all recollection of, interest in, or hope for, the sorrows of the world; or else the problem of making known the way of illumination to people wrapped in economic problems may seem too great to solve.  and on the other hand, if the hero, instead of submitting to all of the initiatory tests, has, like Prometheus, simply darted to his goal (by violence, quick device, or luck) and plucked the boon for the world that he intended, then the powers that he has unbalanced may react so sharply that he will be blasted from within and without - crucified, like Prometheus, on the rock of his own violated unconscious. or if the hero, in the third place, makes his safe and willing return, he may meed with such a blank misunderstanding and disregard from those whom he has come to help that his career will collapse."

Is there no satisfying ending for the hero?  Is the longevity of memory all that he can hope for?

Thank God for Princess Leia

How do we navigate the historical and ongoing problem of the representation of women in mythology? Where are the women heroes? How does Campbell's framework (and Freudian psychoanalysis) depend on ideas about gender and sex that are (at best) problematic and at worst, deeply damaging and archaic?

Sunday, January 26, 2020

Wait, it's that simple?


              After reading "The Monomyth", it is clear that there are certain things that just work. Certain roles, like the hero, mentor, and shapeshifter, can be identified in most movies, but it doesn't stop with movies; these figures and foundations exist in ancient folklore, mythology, sacred rituals, legends, and as Campbell puts it, "even nightmares". It is undeniable to say that there are certain things that humans innately respond to. When we look at old stories like "Beowulf" and "Sir Gaiwan and the Green knight", we see the "separation- initiation- return" pattern Campbell illustrates on page thirty. There is a reason these tales are timeless. 

             But what does this say about us as humans, if anything at all? How come these certain concept work time and time again? I want to attribute it to some evolutionary development, like the reason we admire the hero who has proven his worth by journeying out and returning to improve society is because a person like this would prove useful in a village or a tribe. Of course, I don't know the answer to this question, but I often tend to attribute out characteristics as some sort of process of evolution.