Last Wednesday, during the Armonia Weekly Hangout, the group discussed the Hero’s Journey and during it a few interesting points were brought up. Largely, what was discussed were where people felt they were on the hero’s journey in their own lives, but that is not what I want to get into, but rather a look at the notion of a hero. As was stated in the chat, Hero is perhaps a very strong word for most people’s journeys. However, if we are to be congruent with what we are exploring we must use the title of the method we are applying, in this case Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey. In many ways, a stream of Jediism has been shaped by the exploration of the Hero’s journey, and that is why it is often discussed in Jedi circles.
Personally, I am not a fan of Campbell as I feel several of his assertions are based on misguided interpretations. For example; he often fails to distinguish between the cycle of vengeance as exists in Greek and Roman Mythologies. Furthermore, he makes assertions about the myth of Horus without in fact identifying the Horus he is discussing. To be clear, there is “one” Horus, but many versions of his story and thus it is important to identify which version, otherwise you get into the realms of divine incest. All this aside, the Hero’s Journey very effectively fits the story of one Luke Skywalker, and it is well known that George Lucas found a mentor in Joseph Campbell during his tumultuous years in college, though it would not be until after Lucas had completed the original Star Wars trilogy that he would meet his “Yoda”.
Real Jedi use the fictional Jedi as their inspiration and use the fictional Jedi as their joint foundation. Now, some have used the Jedi Archetype as a vehicle for mystical teachings from real world traditions. Others have built ideas purely from the inspiration of the fictional materials. Most have tended to marry these two paths; taking inspiration and ideas from the fiction but looking to tried and tested philosophies and ideals to frame said fictional ideas. An example of this, as mentioned prior, is to frame the story of Star Wars and specifically Luke Skywalker within the Hero’s Journey, and to expand this and apply the frame work to one’s own life.
This is not unlike Dialectical Behavioural Therapy, Logotherapy, or Psychodynamic Depth, where one studies the “narrative” of one’s life to understand the plot points and gain an understanding of the factors affecting one’s life. This is a gross simplification of said therapies but hopefully illustrates the point that the study of one’s life from a narrative driven perspective can be effective and useful. I do bring up these therapies, however, because unlike a story with a beginning, middle, and end where the story teller has a logical path of progression, life is more chaotic and cyclical. We can take a step forward, and then take two steps backwards, or we can find ourselves repeating the same smaller cycle within the whole. Also, unlike a book or myth, we are often on several disparate journey’s in our own lives. We can be some where along the road in one part of our life, and else where in another. Rarely does everything converge on one identifiable spot on the Hero’s Journey. However, what is the Hero’s Journey? To some it will be a very familiar term, and I suspect it has been lost on others. The Hero’s Journey or monomyth, broadly speaking, is a template made up of three cycles and 8-17 stages. The number of stages depends on the model, but each model consists of three major cycles or acts. The first act is titled departure, and for Luke this is encapsulated in Episode III and IV if following Leeming’s model. However, the first act proper is found entirely in Episode IV, if following Campbell’s traditional model. This includes the stages of "Call to Adventure", "Refusal of the Call", "Supernatural Aid", "Crossing the Threshold" and "Belly of the Whale". The Empire Strikes back fulfils the requirements of the second act “initiation” and Return of the Jedi closes “initiation” and begins the Act of “Return” but ends symbolically on crossing the return threshold. The Last Jedi, to an extent, finally brings an end to the Journey proper of Luke Skywalker.
Yet, what is powerful about Luke’s story? In many respects, he is the classical hero. Like the Hero’s of Antiquity, Luke is entrapped in a cycle of vengeance begun before his Birth, and like Orestes he is the one cursed to bring it to a close or attempt to. He is of a divine parentage which sets him apart from other men, and it is revealed with all the tragedy and drama of the ancient plays; “No, I am your father”. In turn, his fate and destiny are determined by this parentage.
Like Arthur and Beowolf, he is a great Hero, of great personal courage, and yet his final years are dominated by inactivity, failure, and defeat. His old self dies a symbolic death, and yet in his actual death he reclaims all he once was and becomes more. Like Arthur who is the once and future king, or Beowolf who secures his legacy by slaying the dragon, Luke’s final act secures his true legacy and points the way for those that follow him. Yet, in turn, his failures are what set forth the conflicts to come as the actions of Aeneas and Odysseus did in their journeys.
Luke Skywalker embodies, in many ways, the primordial fears humanity has long had. That the mistakes we make cannot be undone and can breed only further turmoil. It also reflects our own childish fears; that we are doomed to become our forebears or that we will inevitably fail to surpass them. Also, the pain and anguish that comes with any relationship, especially the ones we have with our parents. Yet, he embodies heroism because he overcomes these fears to amount to something greater.
Now, in all this, we must be wary of ignoring Lucas’ other influences. The work of Frank Herbert, and Dune, can be seen throughout Star Wars. For example, Luke’s mystical awakening and rise to the status of War Hero mirroring that of Paul Atreides. Indeed, the key conflicts of a Galactic war being hand-to-hand combat (Lightsaber duels) or guerrilla actions take almost exactly from Dune. In fact, the Lightsaber was not meant to be a special weapon, but one ubiquitous to the setting, like the Personal Shields and the brutal close quarter fighting such technology demanded. We can further see the parallels with the Bene Gesserit and the Jedi; orders with special powers, and with monopiles on services essential to the powers they nominally serve. Indeed, the influence of Dune can still be found in the new films which lack Lucus’ direct control. The story of Luke is almost akin to that of Paul when he was acting as “The Prophet”, and as Paul serves to inadvertently convince Leto II of the righteousness of his path, Luke does the same for Rey in Episode VIII.
This leads me to my essential point. Often, we also fail to consider what “Type” of hero we are looking at when we apply the Hero’s Journey to their story. Though the Hero’s Journey can appear to be a re-occurring pattern through myths, books, films and story telling in general, we must consider Heroes come in many shapes, sizes, and forms. We in turn make this mistake when looking at our own lives when using the Hero’s Journey; we can forget to ask who we are in the Journey.
To me the Prequels of Star Wars were interesting, when discussing Heroes, as Lucas either on purpose or as more often with Lucas, by accident, explored to a degree the makings of a Hero. In Qui-Gon Jinn he presents a maverick hero more akin to the characters of Kurosawa’s period pieces than to the classical hero of Luke. In Obi-Wan he explores the tragic hero, a character that does everything right by the standards of his peers and the ideals of the story, and yet still fails because he is fighting forces greater than he could overcome. In Anakin we are given a Byronic Hero, doomed by a fundamental flaw, which undoes his otherwise heroic character; Anakin’s fractured, and damaged, capacity for love.
Qui-Gon Jinn was a flawed maverick hero; a man capable of great compassion, who sought to do what was right and equitable rather than what was simply legal. Indeed, he did not balk at using the unjust rules of the society of Tatooine against those that benefitted from them. Even if his actions amounted to cheating, and potentially illegal, as he was gambling on slaves it was in the pursuit of a greater good. Yet, his inability to put aside his sense of duty ultimately doomed him and imperilled those he had taken into his care. He had taken Anakin into his care, and yet put both himself and the boy in great mortal peril to fulfil his duty to Padme and Naboo. In doing so, he was killed, and again Anakin’s future was put into danger. In trying to consistently do the right thing for everyone, Qui-Gon failed to consider what was most important to achieve, and this was perhaps his greatest failure.
Obi-Wan consistently did the right thing by the standards of the story. He kept his word to his Master, was an attentive Student and Mentor, and put his talents to great use as a general and pilot despite his disdain for war and violence. Yet, he consistently denied himself happiness for the standards of Good in the story. He did not take his emotional connection to Anakin to it’s logical conclusion until it was far too late. Telling some one you love them, and that they are a brother to you, while they are burning to death by a lake of Lava after you have removed their limbs is not the time to say that. That is something you say when you feel it, and it is obvious they need that emotional support. However, by the standards of the Jedi, he was right to keep his emotional distance, and he was right to consistently deny himself. Obi-Wan sacrificed everything, and in turn lost everything, despite doing everything right by the standards of the story. He is ultimately a tragic hero, as despite his heroism, all he finds is tragedy.
Finally, to Anakin, who I would argue is a Byronic Hero; a rebellious young man, distressed by his own terrible actions and the terrible actions done against him, yet still capable of great heroism. Anakin is doomed by his own twisted concept of love and searching for it in all the wrong places. In his youth he only experienced unconditional love from his mother, and the first person to show him admiration and respect was Qui-Gon Jinn. Both died violently, and without him being able to truly say good bye. He tried to find these lost figures in other people; in Padme, his mother, and in Obi-Wan the impression Qui-Gon had left upon him. Yet, Padme was an independent woman whom could not look past Anakin’s flaws and could not love him unconditionally. Obi-Wan was human, and simple exposure over time would reflect that he was not perfect nor a replacement for Qui-Gon. Anakin’s destiny was also crafted by his actions; his secret marriage to Padme was a mistake by Jedi standards, and an aspect of their relationship was that they alone knew of what he had done to avenge his mother. He could never seek assistance from the right people because he never felt secure in their love; that they could forgive, or still care for him after admitting his errors. Ultimately, he was doomed to become Vader because that was the path crafted by mistakes uncorrected. Yet, he was a truly heroic figure, of great personal courage, who saved countless lives during the clone wars. A walking contradiction of a man.
Now; those three are all fictional characters, but I have talked of them as living and breathing to make you consider what other ways their tales could go. Yet, also to make you question which type of Hero are you in your story? Are you the maverick taking your eyes off the actual objective? Are you doing everything right but getting nowhere? Are you letting something from your past dominate your present? It is not just about where you are in your journey, but how did you get there and where are you going from there? What sort of Hero are you going to be?
Before we finish I also wish to discuss the other key figure of the Hero’s Journey; the Mentor. With the prequels, we again get different types of mentor, but also of father figures. I often make the remark that the original parts of Star Wars come from the issues Lucas had with his father. This is not a joke, as through out the film, we can see allusions to the very real conflict Lucas had with his father, and indeed, even the resolution; forgiveness and acceptance. Indeed, Palpatine is an interesting figure, perhaps the father we sometimes wished we had; one who offers solutions, support and acceptance no matter what. Yet, he is a terrible father figure. He utilises the flaws of Anakin to keep him on a leash, and indeed the father who fails to challenge and fails to point out and help correct mistakes is not a good father. In Palpatine we can see the awful step-father, or the disinterested father, who uses friendliness and money and power to avoid conflict; they do not want the effort of being a father, but offer only its most superficial qualities, a form of support.
Qui-Gon in contrast gives that support but disappears. He is like a child’s early image of a father to Anakin. Powerful, Wise, and able to solve everything, and with answers to all questions. Anakin never grows up from this image, and it is mirrored in his relationships with Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Palpatine. Indeed, Obi-Wan is like the struggling father trying to be a good father. Struggling to find the balance between sternness and indulgence; he is critical of Anakin’s flaws, but readily acknowledges his abilities. Indeed, he also tries to protect Anakin and guide Anakin, but is caught between his relationship with Anakin and his duty to the council. Like many parents are caught between the desires of their children, and what they know what they must prepare their children for. Yoda is like the grandfather who tries to give good advice, and is a hint indulgent, but for all his efforts can do nothing effective because Anakin keeps him at arms’ length. Both Obi-Wan and Yoda want what is best for Anakin, but Anakin’s own secrets, and their own peculiar relationship with their emotions caused by being Jedi means the man they are trying to mentor is alien to them. This allows Palpatine, who seems to give unconditional support, to manipulate Anakin horribly.
Again, my own reading of the fiction but that is the joy of art; it gives something to read into. Now, I mention this as I believe it important to also consider that we are mentors as well as students; we probably have someone in our lives who looks up to us and counts on us. How effective are you as a mentor in the journeys of others? Are you being a good mentor or a bad mentor; are you giving superficial support, and failing to challenge your mentee when you should?
To paraphrase the Bard; the world is a stage, and we are all but players. The Hero’s journey can help us understand the story of our life, but we must consider who we are in that story. Are you playing the part you want to play?