The Emasculation of the Hero

Last week, Charles Yallowitz had an interesting discussion on tropes at his blog that got me to thinking about the subject of this post.

When I was in graduate school, I read The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell. I was fascinated by the hero’s journey monomyth. Still am. Growing up, I loved stories like Star Wars, Beowulf, The Iliad, The Odyssey, Treasure Island, and comic books like Superman, Thor, Iron Man, Spider-Man, etc.

And yes, I am female—a female with two brothers, a dad, about a billion male cousins, and a number of male friends. And no, I’m not selling out myself or females in general because I love heroic adventures. I also love Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Batgirl, etc. I wrote my critical thesis on the heroine’s journey in middle grade fiction, following the steps of the hero’s journey (the call to action, etc.).

Back when I was a kid—a time when everyone had a pet triceratops—I used to watch a show called The Avengers. This is not the Avengers you saw in Marvel movies. It is described by Wikipedia as “a British espionage television series.” It starred Patrick Macnee as John Steed, Diana Rigg as Mrs. Emma Peel (left photo), and when Diana left the show, Linda Thorson became Steed’s partner, Tara King. I loved Emma Peel and Tara King, because they knew karate and could beat a dude down. As a kid, I often felt helpless, especially living in a rough neighborhood where guys ignored the “don’t hit a girl” rule parents used to enforce back in the day, and would pick a fight with a girl. I got into two fights in middle school with boys, which is why my older brother taught me to box.

 

Even with that love of seeing powerful women on an old TV show, I can’t help noticing how the hero has undergone a metamorphosis in some stories these days. Either he takes a backseat or is rendered weak and ridiculous—the constant butt of a joke. But I can’t laugh at this. Before you say I’m anti-humor, there’s a difference between a character with humor who doesn’t take himself too seriously (Tony Stark/Iron Man in the Marvel comics and movies), thus causing us to laugh with him, and someone who is deliberately written to look weaker and less intelligent than the female characters, which causes us to view him with contempt. I understand that some are glad to see this, believing this aspect to be “just desserts” due to the past. Maybe I’m old school, but I don’t like this. (And yes, I saw and laughed at the movie, Dumb and Dumber. But the characters, when compared to males and females, were considered silly. We laughed like we laughed at P.G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster.)

I’m reminded by many on social media and in other places how this is the time of women and how we need strong females in literature. While I agree with the need for strong females, if a female character can only be strong by making the male characters weak or stupid, how is she strong? That would be like calling yourself a weightlifter, but you only lift weights made out of marshmallows.

A while ago, I read an article in Entertainment Weekly about the need for strong heroes who are the match to strong villains and wrote this post and this one on it. Often you see a weak, dull hero with an interesting, powerful villain or a powerful hero and a lackluster villain. The article talked about the need for strength on both sides. Well, there’s a need for strong females yes. And strong males also.

What I loved about the first Avengers movie (2012) was the fact that Black Widow’s strength as a character didn’t cancel out the strength of her male teammates. They enhanced each other.

Dune 2021 has a hero—Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet)—as well as strong women, like his mother Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) and others I will not name due to spoilers. Granted, this is an adaptation of a book written in the 60s. But it was a hit.

Anyway, this is something I’ve been thinking about and couldn’t rest until I had written this post. I know people have the right to write whatever they want. But I know what I like and what I don’t.

Diana Rigg photo from somewhere on Pinterest. Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow poster from somewhere online. Book cover from Goodreads. Generic hero from pngarts.com. Photo of Timothée Chalamet and Rebecca Ferguson found at vanityfaircom. Photo by Chiabella James. Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, Chris Evans as Captain America from news.doddleme.com.

Writing Tips from Pokémon Sun and Moon

If you read this post, you’ll recall my mentioning that I’d almost finished this post. Well, here it is, finally. Bullet undodged.

I know what you’re thinking: That’s a joke title if ever I heard one. Why doesn’t she just get to the giveaway winner already? Patience, my young padawan. That will come in time.

In case you’re wondering (even if you aren’t, I’m still going to tell you), Pokémon Sun and Pokémon Moon are two versions of the same videogame developed by Game Freak for the Nintendo 3DS—one of the many ways Nintendo celebrated the twentieth anniversary of the Pokémon franchise in 2016. I have both. Each game has its own variations.

Because of the popularity of Pokémon Go, even if you didn’t play it, you’re probably familiar with the concept of catching Pokémon to collect and train.

Starter Pokémon

Essentially the game is a hero’s journey. The hero—you—leave home and battle several threshold guardians (friends, island captains, and kuhunas) in order to reach your goal—becoming the world champion Pokémon trainer.

  

One of the most fun things about the game is that as your character explores, he or she finds useful items either on the ground, or they’re given to your character by others in the game. These items help your Pokémon grow stronger, which is your main goal as a trainer. But knowing which ones to use at different points in the game is part of a winning strategy.

Videogamers love clues that can help them figure out how to succeed in the game. So what does this have to do with writing? Well, consider the fact that readers also like to be successful. They like clues that help them make predictions about a story’s outcome. Which brings me to writing tip number 1: Foreshadowing is a way of cluing the reader in on what’s upcoming. A character in your story might say something that triggers an “ah-ha” moment in the reader and helps him or her anticipate what could happen later on. So, foreshadowing is how you help a reader win in the game of reading.

Tip number 2 probably goes without saying. But I’ll say it anyway. Make each threshold increasingly difficult to help your characters grow. This is what’s known as upping the ante or raising the stakes. As you start off Pokémon Sun or Moon, the first threshold guardian is challenging, but far less challenging than the ones later in the game. But at each level, your Pokémon are growing stronger. By the time you reach the end—the final five trainers—your Pokémon should be at a level where they are able to successfully defeat the five. So, overcoming increasingly difficult obstacles makes your characters grow.

Tip number 3 goes with the second tip: Make your antagonist three dimensional. Duh, right? A three-dimensional antagonist As you play Pokémon Sun or Moon, you’ll run across a surly kid named Gladion who demands to battle you every now and then. He’s often rude to you. But he’s not just a bully. Gladion has a very poignant back story and an interesting motivation, which you learn during the course of the game. Knowing his story helps you begin to understand what makes this kid tick and even empathize with him. And that’s the reaction you want from a reader. You want them to care about your antagonist, even if he or she is horrible to your protagonist.

Okay, I’ve lectured you enough. If you read the interview with Andy Murray (click here for that), you know I’m giving away a copy of Mythos, the volume in which Andy has two short stories. His publisher, Michael Kobernus, kindly offered an ebook of Folklore, book 1 of the Northlore series. Too cool for school!

    

The winner of both of those books is . . .

Is . . .

Is . . .

Is . . .

Charles Yallowitz!

Congratulations, Charles! Please comment below to confirm, then email me at lmarie7b(at)gmail(dot)com to provide your snail mail address and the email address you use with Amazon. I’ll forward the latter to the publisher for the Folklore giveaway. Thank you to all who commented.

Pokémon Sun and Pokémon Moon logos from segmentnext.com. Starter Pokemon image from inthegame.nl. Gladion image from capsulecomputers.com. Obtaining TM image from gamerant.com. Hau image from usgamer.net. Professor Kukui photo by L. Marie. Book covers from Nordland Publishing.

A Night at the Opera

Have you ever had one of those days when you looked in your closet and picked out several things to wear, all the while thinking of each, Nah this won’t do? That’s how I’ve been the last several days with blog posts. I started one on writing tips from Pokémon Sun and Pokémon Moon (yes, really; it’s almost finished) and one on the great outdoors (less finished). But this post you’re reading is neither of those (Perhaps you’re thinking, Whew, I dodged that bullet), nor any of the other ideas I had swirling around in my head.

Last week, a friend of mine and I attended a student production of Mozart’s opera, The Magic Flute (which also is playing at the Civic Opera House in Chicago). Though I have attended several operas over the years, and enjoyed them, I can’t say I’m an opera aficionado. But I have friends who love the opera, and one friend who is an opera soprano (and a faculty member at the University of Illinois). So, that’s how I found myself at the opera several times.

I didn’t know the storyline of The Magic Flute beforehand (click storyline in the first part of the sentence for the synopsis), though I’d heard one of its most well-known arias elsewhere. That aria, “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen” (“Hell’s vengeance boils in my heart”) is sung by the Queen of the Night, a character who does what is needful to regain her kidnapped daughter, Pamina. You can listen to that aria here if you like.

You probably already know this (if you do, you know way more than I did last week), but I’ll tell you anyway. The Magic Flute is a fairy tale that follows the hero’s journey model. We meet the hero, a prince named Tamino, whose call to action from the ladies of the court of the Queen of the Night is to rescue Pamina from Sarastro—her kidnapper. Along the way, he gains a sidekick—Papageno, who is forced to accompany him on this mission. In Act I of the opera, you start off with one idea about who is good and who is evil, then find that notion overturned in Act II.

At left in black is Abi Beerwart, who played Pamina; in yellow, is Bethany Crosby, one of the ladies of the court of the Queen of the Night

I love the hero’s journey story model and fairy tales. Having grown up on a steady diet of fairy tales and musicals, thanks to parents who took my brothers and me to musical performances, this opera was right up my alley. I love that my assumptions were overturned, but not in a frustrating, this-doesn’t-make-sense kind of way.

Several small children in the audience were very vocal in their commentary. Some burst into tears, wanting to leave halfway through the production. Others, knowing cast members, cheered when their favorites appeared. Still others just wondered what was going on. Early in the performance, I had the same question. But at least the children were there, soaking in the rich tapestry that was The Magic Flute.

I’m reminded of a recent post at Jennie’s blog, A Teacher’s Reflections.

Major pieces of art? Masterpieces? Introducing this to preschoolers? It is not easy to explain to people how and why art can make a difference with young children.

You have to read the post (click recent post above to do so) to understand why I thought of it as I wrote this post. Jennie ends the post with, “Art makes a difference.” Perhaps watching The Magic Flute will be life changing for the children who attended it as well.

What kinds of art (musical performance, movies, books, animation, dance, painting or other forms of visual art) were you exposed to as a young child? What difference did it make in your life?

P.S. Extra bonus points if you can guess where I got the title, “A Night at the Opera,” from. Though I had one specific source in mind, there is another possible answer.

Photos by L. Marie.

Guest Post: When a Hero Returns Home

Today, I’m turning over the floor to a familiar face around here and the blogosphere—the awe-inspiring Charles Yallowitz. Take it away, Charles!

Thank you to L. Marie for hosting this exciting and informative blog post. Well, at least I hope this is entertaining, but I can’t guarantee any of those three things.

The newest volume of Legends of Windemere focuses on one of the heroes, Delvin Cunningham, returning to his homeland. He comes from the Yagervan Plains where people live in nomadic tribes, but he was separated from his family at the age of eight. Left adrift on a chunk of ice in the northern ocean, the child crossed into a neighboring kingdom and has never returned until now. So, what is the point of having a hero return to his home?

Cover by Jason Pedersen

First of all, this isn’t the first time I’ve done this. Legends of Windemere: Allure of the Gypsies involves the heroes visiting Luke Callindor’s hometown. He has been around since the first book and the adventure revealed more about his past. You learn about what drives him to be a hero and what he is running away from. Discovering the origin of a character shows more about them than you would get from seeing only where they are going. It brings an added dimension to their story and makes a character appear more human. After all, most of us have a place in our past that we have to face for good or for bad.

Cover by Jason Pedersen

Then there’s Delvin who has almost nothing.

Remember me saying he was separated from his family and never returned? Of course because it was only a paragraph or two ago. Well, this puts him in a position where he is returning to the unknown. This is another version of the hero’s homecoming. Instead of the assurance that loved ones will be there and the area is even remotely familiar, Delvin is practically walking into a foreign land. He remembers his parents and pieces of his culture, but those things could have changed since he’s been away for over a decade. This is a homecoming for a ghost who might as well be an outsider, which changes the dynamic.

The homecoming is no longer about revelation alone, but exploration too. Delvin is seeking his family while wandering a landscape that is practically a faded dream. This creates an emotional distance for the character, which is the opposite of Luke’s close bond to his hometown. Of course there is a desire to reunite, but it comes along with the acknowledgement that rejection or failure are highly likely. This means part of the homecoming for Delvin is about creating a fresh bond that will have an impact on his future and bring a close to his limited past. This can be done in a variety of ways that all depend on the character. If the hero is emotional, then that makes it easy, but a stone-hearted hero would have another hurdle to openly overcome. Yet the homecoming can soften or harden a character.

When a hero returns to his or her home, it tends to bring their burdens and dangers to their family’s doorstep. This can result in any number of endings, so one has to wonder what the point is. Well, it’s to connect a hero’s past with their present and future. Like humans in the real world, a character should possess these three time periods. They act in the present and look to the future, which are easier compared to having their past appear. The homecoming is possibly the easiest way to bridge the gap. You can even give the hero another goal if the bad guys make an appearance. Other uses are having the hero claim a local relic, gaining a family heirloom, or getting extra training like in several animes.

Animes like this one

The usage and reasons are only as limited as the author’s imagination.

Check out the results of Delvin’s homecoming in
LEGENDS OF WINDEMERE: THE MERCENARY PRINCE
And visit me at
LEGENDS OF WINDEMERE
@cyallowitz

Charles E. Yallowitz was born, raised, and educated in New York. Then he spent a few years in Florida, realized his fear of alligators, and moved back to the Empire State. When he isn’t working hard on his epic fantasy stories, Charles can be found cooking or going on whatever adventure his son has planned for the day. Legends of Windemere is his first series, but it certainly won’t be his last.

Thanks, Charles! Now to announce the winner of The Mercenary Prince. That person is Penny O’Neill! Congrats, Penny! Please comment below to confirm.

Louie the Rune Soldier image from nnm.me. Home signs from oocities.org and clker.com.

A Common Thread

When I read this post at John Scalzi’s blog where Guy Gavriel Kay discussed the overarching theme of his novels, my mind started racing. (If you’re not sure who Guy Gavriel Kay is, click here. For John Scalzi, click here.)

Anyway, if you don’t feel like reading that post, Guy Gavriel Kay mentioned that he was asked why all of his books have the theme of exile. If you’ve read his books (I read Tigana), you might be nodding at this point and saying, “Yeah, I see that.”

I love the notion of having an overarching theme, a thread connecting all of my novels. It kind of reminds me of the dog that pops up in the illustrations of Chris Van Allsburg’s picture books—a fun extra readers know will be there. But on a deeper level, having something that links all of my novels is a way of sharing a passion of mine.

Now, you might be thinking, if I’m working on four novels (a duology and two stand alones), how on earth could I have a linking theme? Okay, I’ll tell you.

I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of the journey as teacher—the hero’s journey—and often gravitate toward books of that ilk: Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien; The Odyssey by Homer; Beowulf; Sabriel by Garth Nix; The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett; Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson; The Silver Chair by C. S. Lewis; The Princess and Curdie by George MacDonald. (And by hero, I mean male or female.) Once that realization dawned during my third semester of grad school, I knew I had settled on a topic for my critical thesis, as well as a structure for the young adult fantasy novel I was struggling with at the time.

With a journey story, the emphasis is on movement. No stagnant pool here, but a flowing river with rapids and turns. As Joseph Campbell stated in The Hero with a Thousand Faces:

The familiar life horizon has been outgrown; the old concepts, ideals, and emotional patterns no longer fit; the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand. (Campbell 51)

A compelling journey story involves struggles beyond the daily “I ran into traffic” grind. Consider the journeys you find most memorable: rescue missions, mountain-climbing adventures, immigration stories, migrations (of animals too, if you watched the documentary Winged Migration). With journeys, character strengths and weaknesses come into focus.

Blake Snyder, author of the popular screenwriting tips book, Save the Cat, uses the term golden fleece in his discussion of hero’s journey stories. If you’re up on Greek mythology, you know that the quest undertaken by Jason and the Argonauts involved the search for the golden fleece. According to Snyder:

The theme of every Golden Fleece movie is internal growth. . . . It’s not the mileage we’re racking up that makes a good Golden Fleece, it’s the way the hero changes as he goes. (Snyder 28)

Reading these stories, some larger than life, makes us want to test our own limits, don’t they? The most powerful journey stories can inspire us to be better people—to do what we can to effect change in our world.

What journey stories inspire you? If you’ve read all or most of an author’s books, what theme, if any, have you noticed as a common thread?

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press/Bollingen Series XVII, 1949. Print.

Snyder, Blake. Save the Cat! Studio City, CA: Michael Wiese Productions/Sheridan Books, 2005. Print.