dannydmc

*Alright, we'll try this again. Damn computer*

Lets talk about stories for a minute. I happen to love them, and have since I was a child. Every now and then, although less since I've quit teaching, someone will come up to me and ask me why I love History as much as I do. My usual response, after I have wiped the disbelieving look from my face, is to say that "History is nothing but stories; stories of people who lived in the past. I love them". More often than not the questioner and I will then look at each other in incomprehension, and I will walk away, confused as to why people just don't 'seem to get it'. What ever 'It' is, of course.

But I don't want to write simply about 'stories' tonight; I want to talk about the ones which I've loved since I was a small type. Heroic stories. Now those are the ones which always get my blood pumping and causes the eletric storm in my brain to kick into over-drive! Give me a hero set upon by numerous foes and a seeming unsurmountable problem, and it would take a tractor to be able to pull me away.
The other day I picked up a book called "Lion's Honey: the Myth of Samson", and I'd highly suggest anyone unfortunate enough to be reading this, to pick up a copy as well. Its an amazing book, a bit pricey at 13 dollars, but one of those rare tomes which actually forces you to take a hard look at an old story and see it in a new light. I won't bore you with the thesis of the author, if you're interested you can find it yourself, but I will say that it got me thinking.
You see, there has been a notion forming in my gut for the past few years, but I didn't truly grasp it until the other day. I'd heard it said in passing before, but I'd never really felt it until the other night and I've been running it through my head ever since.

Here it is: almost without faily, and it doesn't matter the culture or era the story was written in, the hero is a tragic and lonely figure. The tragedy of the hero goes beyond the fact that he or she dies; this happens to everyone, after all, and is hardly unique. The true tragedy of the tale is that the hero is oft times a lonely figure in his own right, never truly accepted or loved by his own community.
Most heros have a community which they are meant to represent; Samson had the Isrealites, CuChullian the Ulstermen, Jesus his followers, and so forth. However, if you've ever read much mythology, it becomes apparent pretty quickly that they are rarely ever understood by their own people. They may, in fact, be shbeen driving way to fast ever since I started listening to it.
I really do sometimes wish my mind didn't take these flights of fancy unned or outright oppressed by those who they seek to protect.
It would seem that the best kind of hero is an outsider by nature. Due to their powers, be they of mind or body, they are kept at an arms length by the people who can never come to grips with that fact. Some seem to take a weary pride in this (Samson's retreat to a mountain enclave, and constant cohorting with the Philistines), while others seem to enjoy it (as in the case of Odysseus; where Homer rights of him being "alone, finally alone" after his sailers have finally all been massacures). Even Heraclius, the great Greek hero is feared by the people of Greece; they have, after all, seen what his strength can accomplish following his descent into temporary maddness. If you wish a more modern example, there is the most iconic image from American Westerns; the hero riding off into the sunset after the battle as been won, never a part of the community he has just saved, and forced to keep wandering no matter how many victories there are.
Attacked on all sides by the forces of the other-world, and the internal forces of personality as well, most heros also end up having to starve off an attack from their own inner circle. Despite being heralded, after their deaths, most are not seen so brightly during their lives, and often run the risk of being betrayed by those they care about most. Sigurd was slain, not by a dragon or on the battlefield, but by his own brother-in-laws, while asleep. Samson was bound by the Judeans and turned over to his enemies (not to mention Deliahla), Heracles died as a dirrect result of his wife's jelous rage, King Arthur was slain by his own nephew/son who wanted the throne for himself.It seems a common pattern in most of these type of stories. Even Beowulf, the WWE superstar of his day, was abandoned by all by one of his warriors while fighting the dragon.

Now; often as children, and even some of we adults, look up to heros. How many kids, if asked, say that they want to become some heroic profession when they grow up; a Doctor, a Firefighter, a Police Officer, a Super Hero (I, myself, often claimed I wanted to be either a Super Hero, Mad Scientist or President when I grew up. I was an odd child)? Why is that, when nearly all of the heros we're introduced to, end life in such a horrid fashion? Why are these stories still popular to this very day?
I think its because, deep down, we all see ourselves as the hero. When we read the story of Perseus destroying Medeusa, rescuing Andromeda and returning to destroy the King who torments his life, we feel a deep seated connection. Its not that any of us have ever faced down a sea-serpent, and angry customers don't really equate themselves with Gorgons, but we still understand. It doesn't matter which obstacles the hero has to overcome or, deep down, even why he has to overcome them. What matters is that he DOES overcome them!
Here is a character who is different, special is some way, who feels isolated and alone, and who manages to take what ever the world has to throw at him and still manages to etch out some victory. It doesn't end the lonliness, it doesn't starve off death, but its a victory-of-sorts. Who out there can say that that doesn't move them in some way? Because of the hero can do it, well, so to can we. It won't end end our troubles either, but the least it shows is that "Keeping-on, keeping-on" does pay off, at least a bit.

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Looking back over this, I see that I've written a bit of an unintentional essay here. Good going me, I'm sure there are going to be a LOT of people who wade through that! Maybe I should have kept this entry to discussing the Rockabilly boxset I bought the other day and how I've been driving way too fast since I began to listen to it.

I really do wish my mind didn't take these flights of fancy, sometimes, which I always feel compelled to write about later :/