Heroes and Fate
I was thinking about Star Wars this morning. Recently I read a conversation where a number of people said, "I couldn't care less about Han Solo." Now, I happen to love Han, but I didn't find this a shocking confession, especially given the way they explained it. They liked the Skywalkers because it was their story. I had to agree. While I love Han in the OT, I would always say that SW is Luke's story, along with Vader's. Leia is also a bigger part of it than Han is. Han gets involved with them and affects events (a perfect example obviously being when he knocks Vader out unexpectedly so Luke can get to the Death Star), but his personal development runs on a completely separate track from the main storyline. It's a subplot that could pretty much lift right out--it's really just extra that Lucas gave him a clear arc of his own, and in the end that arc is rightfully pushed to the background so Luke and Vader can have their final confrontation. Even the first time I saw RotJ I noticed that Han didn't have much to do, but while I'd liked to have had a better storyline than the Ewoks, I thought the resolution of Luke's story was more important, and that was done well.
In the prequels I was pleased that Lucas resisted the urge to stick in a young!Han to go along with young!Boba Fett and younger!Chewie. I'm sure a random scene where Lucas managed to have a boy on a street we could recognize as Han would have been a crowd-pleaser, but I'm glad that there was hint of Han whatsoever in the prequels, beyond what was, imo, an obvious foreshadowing nod to him and the world he lives in by Obi-Wan when he killed Grievous with the help of a good blaster by his side ("so uncivilized").
Anyway, this got me thinking about why I like Han for all these reasons, because I realized the same is true for what is probably my favorite character in the series, R2D2.
The thing about both these characters I just noticed is that both of them come out of nowhere and force themselves into the story. Chewbacca, we now know, had some dealings with Yoda in the past. Perhaps he recognized Obi-Wan as a Jedi; perhaps Obi-Wan used Yoda's good relationship with the Wookies to open a conversation with him. Han, otoh, probably never thought much about Jedi in his life. They were just some remnant of a past other than his own. He, as he keeps reminding us, is a smuggler with his own concerns. His arc is about dealing with a sudden new desire to help these people with their cause, even though it has nothing to do with him. This sets him apart from other characters not just because he isn't immediately committed to destroying the Empire but because he doesn't have to be. The Alliance would miss him if he left, but it's always understood that he could leave, might leave, and they'd muddle on without him if he did. He does leave in ANH, after all, which is why it's such a surprise when he appears at the crucial moment, having decided off-screen to change his mind and come back.
I haven't seen TPM in a while, but I seem to recall loving the fact that Artoo gets himself into the narrative simply by distinguishing himself by deciding to do something heroic to save Padme. This is how he gets singled out amongst other droids. In Artoo's case that's even more significant because a droid is a machine. Although droids in SW obviously do have personalities, it's always going to be a bit more surprising to have a machine assert himself through personal will, isn't it? Because machines are machines. When he's brought before everyone for praise for what he's done someone leans over to read his number so that he can be identified. I remember that moment being one that got a great response from the audience--a response much like the one for "Obi-Wan Kenobi, meet Anakin Skywalker." In that scene people were reacting to the tragic story they knew was to follow between Anakin and Obi-Wan. With Artoo people were reacting to the great deeds they associated with the letters and numbers R2D2. They cheered having him introduced by name.
It's not even a name, really. But those letters and numbers become a name through Artoo (and Threepio) earning names through their humanity. So much so that I think nowadays their names are rarely written with numbers. I usually see them spelled Artoo and Threepio rather than R2 and 3PO. It seems more natural, because characters have names, not serial numbers.
Then Artoo makes Luke's story happen through sheer force of personality. (The one possible act of luck being that first R2 unit Uncle Owen chose having a bad motivator, but obviously Artoo would have continued to get to Obi-Wan no matter what.) One of my favorite Artoo moments is that one where Threepio glimpses Leia giving him the message for Obi-Wan in ANH. The way he's bending forward and is so short he always reminds me of the little page offering himself to the queen because a real champion isn't handy--and of course that page proves himself to have the heart of a knight. Threepio is constantly bemused by Artoo "going on about his mission" and saying he belongs to Obi-Wan Kenobi. This takes on much deeper meaning after the prequels when we know that Artoo, unlike Threepio, remembers all the events of the first three episodes (thus making him even more human because he carries the weight of past sorrows with him that Threepio does not) but even before the prequels Artoo was driven by a personal desire to serve Princess Leia. He brings Leia to Luke, and Luke to Obi-Wan, and it isn't by accident. (Personally, I've always thought Artoo even chosen to show Luke that first little snippet of Leia to distract him from trying to get out what was jammed into him by the princess.)
So what does this have to do with anything? Well, while I wouldn't say that I dislike "fated heroes," because I think it depends on the hero, I think I always tend to lean towards this type. I think the concept of a hero who is "the Chosen One" is a powerfully alluring one. I can see why people like it-and I like it too, plenty of the time. In a way any hero who winds up in the story could be said to be fated to be that way because that's the thing about fate--whatever happens is it. I think the whole concept of fate is ridiculous, myself, at least in real life. In fiction, of course, it's a different story: prophecies can come true, because there really IS somebody controlling the events of the universe: the author.
But given the choice, I usually take the interpretation that there is no fate. In LotR, for instance, I don't think it was Eru nudging Bilbo to take the ring so that hurray, it would get to Frodo and Sam and so be destroyed. Nor do I think Eru reached down and pitched Gollum into the fire because Frodo had done such a good job up until then. I don't find this at all a happy or comforting scenario. To me, the ring could just as easily have laid in Gollum's cave until Sauron came and got it. It was found by Bilbo because Bilbo was on his own adventure--and the author saw a great possibility for a story there.
In The X-Files, I don't think Fox Mulder was at all fated to search for the truth. He could just as easily have gone on to a different life after his sister's disappearance. What made Mulder different was that he, personally, insisted on digging into things he wasn't supposed to care about. He was significant because he was an insider, part of that group of men who formed the conspiracy, and rejected that legacy in favor of exposing it. Scully, too, decided to help Mulder (which is why I hated the way that character seemed ultimately doomed to vague religious prophecy and pondering why she'd been placed where she was). I could say Will Stanton is my one Chosen Hero, but really I don't think he is completely in that mold because he's not a human with a grand destiny: he's not human. I am more drawn to the character for being different inside than the people around him than for his being more significant.
I sometimes wonder why I lean this way. I'm tempted to say something about liking ordinary people and thinking they offer more opportunity for true heroism, but I think that makes me seem like I'm taking a random preference for certain stories and making it into a superior worldview or something, and I don't think that's true. After all, it's not like I don't often like Chosen One heroes, or that I think we'd be better without them. I don't think being drawn to fated heroes says anything negative about one's taste in characters. I ultimately think the Skywalker storyline is THE story of Star Wars and wouldn't want to change that. There is something thrilling about a hero who learns he has an awesome destiny with which he must contend. Who wouldn't want someone to reach into a chest and say, "Your father wanted you to have this, when you were older, but your uncle wouldn't allow it." Probably my most favorite SW line, one which sums up the best in the series, is Luke's "I am a Jedi, like my father before me." So I don't want to go overboard and act like one type of hero is better than the other. Nor do I want to pretend “choice” is the providence of ordinary heroes. Luke may turn out to be tied to Vader, but he makes the decision to enter into the story after once turning it down. Chosen Ones still have free choice and personalities-that's usually what propels their story (Anakin, anyone?). They're not any more robotic than your ordinary hero. They just have different choices to make.
I'm just thinking that I, personally, tend to think more along the lines of the character who's nobody, who comes from nowhere. I'm working on this thing with a partner and the main character is such a girl, who is plucked out of obscurity due to a talent and sent to a fabulous school (no, they don't learn wizardry and her talent isn't magic;-). Early on we did discuss the possibility of her heritage turning out to be important, since she's an orphan who doesn't know anything about her past. Would discovering her mother and so her identity be important? It seemed like it could be, but ultiamtely both of us realized that just wasn't our story. She really was nobody. Maybe she inherited her talents, maybe not. She wasn't fated to be at the school and cause trouble for the bad guys, but once there she did that by asserting her personality and so affecting her surroundings. Cinderella was never my favorite fairy tale (The Snow Queen and Hansel & Gretel got that honor, if you're asking), but the part of the story that I did always like was the part where Cinderella picks the lentils out of the ashes and all that. I didn't care about the slipper and the prince, but I liked it when Cinderella put herself forward and tried to work her way to the ball. And when her only outside help was being given appropriate clothes and footwear.
I wonder if maybe I like this sort of thing because I know I myself have trouble asserting myself into life. For instance, to me this is the great thing about Frodo as a character, that it really is a struggle for him to enslave himself to a cause and agree to carry this burden. Before that he's arranged his life just as he likes it, where he's free to wander and read, and only sees people when he wants to see them. Taking the ring really is a sacrifice for him, and the decision to do it is all his own. He's special because he chooses to do it, not because he was fated to do it. One thing I've learned in reading HP is I find it truly dramatic being ordinary. I'm drawn to the kids who, despite being wizards, have nothing to distinguish them, really, and struggle to find how to make their mark. It doesn't strike me as awful of them to resent Harry for his fame because it brings danger and angst. In fact, sometimes I find it interesting that someone will put down, say, Ron for resenting Harry, and also put down Ron for being ordinary and so unworthy of being in the Trio because this seems to validate Ron's resentment. Clearly he does have reason to be jealous of Harry if Harry is so much more worthy of attention. I mean, it's just silly to pretend that Harry's life isn't damn attractive when millions of people read the story to live it through him. There's a reason so many people want to "be" Harry, if only for a little while.
Sometimes I wonder if part of me just knows I wouldn't be. Be Harry, that is. Seriously, it is a pattern in my life to sometimes have to make double the effort to be noticed as your average person, so of course I couldn't be the chosen one. I never am. I don't mean that in a pathetic way-- I'm just naturally more of a watcher (one guy I know even nicknamed me "The Watcher"), and my instinct a lot of the time is to be invisible so as to avoid hassle. I can't say I'm completely blameless. But being easily overlooked isn't always a good thing any more than being always the center of attention is, and maybe that's why I tend to gravitate towards people who are always fighting their way into the story and refusing to go away. Maybe I'm on the one hand relieved at the freedom they have (there's always that backdoor they can slip out of) and at the way they make themselves important based on their actions.
In the prequels I was pleased that Lucas resisted the urge to stick in a young!Han to go along with young!Boba Fett and younger!Chewie. I'm sure a random scene where Lucas managed to have a boy on a street we could recognize as Han would have been a crowd-pleaser, but I'm glad that there was hint of Han whatsoever in the prequels, beyond what was, imo, an obvious foreshadowing nod to him and the world he lives in by Obi-Wan when he killed Grievous with the help of a good blaster by his side ("so uncivilized").
Anyway, this got me thinking about why I like Han for all these reasons, because I realized the same is true for what is probably my favorite character in the series, R2D2.
The thing about both these characters I just noticed is that both of them come out of nowhere and force themselves into the story. Chewbacca, we now know, had some dealings with Yoda in the past. Perhaps he recognized Obi-Wan as a Jedi; perhaps Obi-Wan used Yoda's good relationship with the Wookies to open a conversation with him. Han, otoh, probably never thought much about Jedi in his life. They were just some remnant of a past other than his own. He, as he keeps reminding us, is a smuggler with his own concerns. His arc is about dealing with a sudden new desire to help these people with their cause, even though it has nothing to do with him. This sets him apart from other characters not just because he isn't immediately committed to destroying the Empire but because he doesn't have to be. The Alliance would miss him if he left, but it's always understood that he could leave, might leave, and they'd muddle on without him if he did. He does leave in ANH, after all, which is why it's such a surprise when he appears at the crucial moment, having decided off-screen to change his mind and come back.
I haven't seen TPM in a while, but I seem to recall loving the fact that Artoo gets himself into the narrative simply by distinguishing himself by deciding to do something heroic to save Padme. This is how he gets singled out amongst other droids. In Artoo's case that's even more significant because a droid is a machine. Although droids in SW obviously do have personalities, it's always going to be a bit more surprising to have a machine assert himself through personal will, isn't it? Because machines are machines. When he's brought before everyone for praise for what he's done someone leans over to read his number so that he can be identified. I remember that moment being one that got a great response from the audience--a response much like the one for "Obi-Wan Kenobi, meet Anakin Skywalker." In that scene people were reacting to the tragic story they knew was to follow between Anakin and Obi-Wan. With Artoo people were reacting to the great deeds they associated with the letters and numbers R2D2. They cheered having him introduced by name.
It's not even a name, really. But those letters and numbers become a name through Artoo (and Threepio) earning names through their humanity. So much so that I think nowadays their names are rarely written with numbers. I usually see them spelled Artoo and Threepio rather than R2 and 3PO. It seems more natural, because characters have names, not serial numbers.
Then Artoo makes Luke's story happen through sheer force of personality. (The one possible act of luck being that first R2 unit Uncle Owen chose having a bad motivator, but obviously Artoo would have continued to get to Obi-Wan no matter what.) One of my favorite Artoo moments is that one where Threepio glimpses Leia giving him the message for Obi-Wan in ANH. The way he's bending forward and is so short he always reminds me of the little page offering himself to the queen because a real champion isn't handy--and of course that page proves himself to have the heart of a knight. Threepio is constantly bemused by Artoo "going on about his mission" and saying he belongs to Obi-Wan Kenobi. This takes on much deeper meaning after the prequels when we know that Artoo, unlike Threepio, remembers all the events of the first three episodes (thus making him even more human because he carries the weight of past sorrows with him that Threepio does not) but even before the prequels Artoo was driven by a personal desire to serve Princess Leia. He brings Leia to Luke, and Luke to Obi-Wan, and it isn't by accident. (Personally, I've always thought Artoo even chosen to show Luke that first little snippet of Leia to distract him from trying to get out what was jammed into him by the princess.)
So what does this have to do with anything? Well, while I wouldn't say that I dislike "fated heroes," because I think it depends on the hero, I think I always tend to lean towards this type. I think the concept of a hero who is "the Chosen One" is a powerfully alluring one. I can see why people like it-and I like it too, plenty of the time. In a way any hero who winds up in the story could be said to be fated to be that way because that's the thing about fate--whatever happens is it. I think the whole concept of fate is ridiculous, myself, at least in real life. In fiction, of course, it's a different story: prophecies can come true, because there really IS somebody controlling the events of the universe: the author.
But given the choice, I usually take the interpretation that there is no fate. In LotR, for instance, I don't think it was Eru nudging Bilbo to take the ring so that hurray, it would get to Frodo and Sam and so be destroyed. Nor do I think Eru reached down and pitched Gollum into the fire because Frodo had done such a good job up until then. I don't find this at all a happy or comforting scenario. To me, the ring could just as easily have laid in Gollum's cave until Sauron came and got it. It was found by Bilbo because Bilbo was on his own adventure--and the author saw a great possibility for a story there.
In The X-Files, I don't think Fox Mulder was at all fated to search for the truth. He could just as easily have gone on to a different life after his sister's disappearance. What made Mulder different was that he, personally, insisted on digging into things he wasn't supposed to care about. He was significant because he was an insider, part of that group of men who formed the conspiracy, and rejected that legacy in favor of exposing it. Scully, too, decided to help Mulder (which is why I hated the way that character seemed ultimately doomed to vague religious prophecy and pondering why she'd been placed where she was). I could say Will Stanton is my one Chosen Hero, but really I don't think he is completely in that mold because he's not a human with a grand destiny: he's not human. I am more drawn to the character for being different inside than the people around him than for his being more significant.
I sometimes wonder why I lean this way. I'm tempted to say something about liking ordinary people and thinking they offer more opportunity for true heroism, but I think that makes me seem like I'm taking a random preference for certain stories and making it into a superior worldview or something, and I don't think that's true. After all, it's not like I don't often like Chosen One heroes, or that I think we'd be better without them. I don't think being drawn to fated heroes says anything negative about one's taste in characters. I ultimately think the Skywalker storyline is THE story of Star Wars and wouldn't want to change that. There is something thrilling about a hero who learns he has an awesome destiny with which he must contend. Who wouldn't want someone to reach into a chest and say, "Your father wanted you to have this, when you were older, but your uncle wouldn't allow it." Probably my most favorite SW line, one which sums up the best in the series, is Luke's "I am a Jedi, like my father before me." So I don't want to go overboard and act like one type of hero is better than the other. Nor do I want to pretend “choice” is the providence of ordinary heroes. Luke may turn out to be tied to Vader, but he makes the decision to enter into the story after once turning it down. Chosen Ones still have free choice and personalities-that's usually what propels their story (Anakin, anyone?). They're not any more robotic than your ordinary hero. They just have different choices to make.
I'm just thinking that I, personally, tend to think more along the lines of the character who's nobody, who comes from nowhere. I'm working on this thing with a partner and the main character is such a girl, who is plucked out of obscurity due to a talent and sent to a fabulous school (no, they don't learn wizardry and her talent isn't magic;-). Early on we did discuss the possibility of her heritage turning out to be important, since she's an orphan who doesn't know anything about her past. Would discovering her mother and so her identity be important? It seemed like it could be, but ultiamtely both of us realized that just wasn't our story. She really was nobody. Maybe she inherited her talents, maybe not. She wasn't fated to be at the school and cause trouble for the bad guys, but once there she did that by asserting her personality and so affecting her surroundings. Cinderella was never my favorite fairy tale (The Snow Queen and Hansel & Gretel got that honor, if you're asking), but the part of the story that I did always like was the part where Cinderella picks the lentils out of the ashes and all that. I didn't care about the slipper and the prince, but I liked it when Cinderella put herself forward and tried to work her way to the ball. And when her only outside help was being given appropriate clothes and footwear.
I wonder if maybe I like this sort of thing because I know I myself have trouble asserting myself into life. For instance, to me this is the great thing about Frodo as a character, that it really is a struggle for him to enslave himself to a cause and agree to carry this burden. Before that he's arranged his life just as he likes it, where he's free to wander and read, and only sees people when he wants to see them. Taking the ring really is a sacrifice for him, and the decision to do it is all his own. He's special because he chooses to do it, not because he was fated to do it. One thing I've learned in reading HP is I find it truly dramatic being ordinary. I'm drawn to the kids who, despite being wizards, have nothing to distinguish them, really, and struggle to find how to make their mark. It doesn't strike me as awful of them to resent Harry for his fame because it brings danger and angst. In fact, sometimes I find it interesting that someone will put down, say, Ron for resenting Harry, and also put down Ron for being ordinary and so unworthy of being in the Trio because this seems to validate Ron's resentment. Clearly he does have reason to be jealous of Harry if Harry is so much more worthy of attention. I mean, it's just silly to pretend that Harry's life isn't damn attractive when millions of people read the story to live it through him. There's a reason so many people want to "be" Harry, if only for a little while.
Sometimes I wonder if part of me just knows I wouldn't be. Be Harry, that is. Seriously, it is a pattern in my life to sometimes have to make double the effort to be noticed as your average person, so of course I couldn't be the chosen one. I never am. I don't mean that in a pathetic way-- I'm just naturally more of a watcher (one guy I know even nicknamed me "The Watcher"), and my instinct a lot of the time is to be invisible so as to avoid hassle. I can't say I'm completely blameless. But being easily overlooked isn't always a good thing any more than being always the center of attention is, and maybe that's why I tend to gravitate towards people who are always fighting their way into the story and refusing to go away. Maybe I'm on the one hand relieved at the freedom they have (there's always that backdoor they can slip out of) and at the way they make themselves important based on their actions.