Tag: Star Wars

  • How The Hero’s Journey Departed Into The World

    How The Hero’s Journey Departed Into The World

    Content Notes: Descriptions of Racism and Sexism

    You are most likely at least vaguely familiar with The Hero’s Journey. It is not just a narrative framework for how to conjure a delightful story. It is the distilled archetype for the pantheon of heroic tales from all cultures in mythology. It is a self-help guide for young men who lost their way. And it is the reason Star Wars exists. But more than all of this, it is a vague conglomeration of bad psychology, poor philosophy and racist anthropology, masquerading as intuitive truth. Though before we unmask this narrative astrology, we must start examining what it is attempting to portray in the first place.

    The Hands Creating The Mask

    The Hero’s Journey was created by Joseph Campbell in his 1949 book, The Hero With a Thousand Faces.[1] Before we get into the book, I want to provide a bit of background on the man himself. Born in 1904 to Roman Catholic parents, Campbell’s love for mythology began when he visited the American Museum of Natural History as a child.[2] In it was housed Native American artefacts and stories, including human remains taken from grave sites for the white patrons to gawk at.[3]

    The American Museum of Natural History, Photographed by bryan
    Retrieved From: Flickr

    As most children do, he compared the Native American tales to his own experiences with the gospel of Jesus.[2] This innocuous moment lead to his most steadfast belief. That all mythology, in all the world, within all time, is fundamentally the same. But to appreciate this, mythology must be removed from it’s temporal and social context to weave a grand tapestry of truth. Or, you know, he somewhat edited his biographical history to present that heroic realisation about the fundamental truth of the universe, so it sounded more satisfying.

    Campbell graduated from Columbia University with an English Bachelors in 1925 and a Medieval Literature Masters in 1927.[2] He subsequently studied Old French and Sanskrit, at the University of Paris and Munich separately. During this foray to Europe he started to read psychoanalytical literature, particularly the works of Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, which would heavily influence his philosophy. It is noteworthy that Campbell had no formal training in anthropology, history or psychology. This does not diminish his insight intrinsically, but it is worth keeping in mind as we scrutinize his work.

    Ultimately, Campbell began working as a professor of Literature at the Sarah Lawrence College and wrote his magnum opus, The Hero With A Thousand Faces.[2] Combining Jungian psychology and his own literary know how, the book showcased his hypothesis that all heroes can be understood through his framework. After this, he wrote a 4 volume survey on world mythology and toured around Western universities, giving talks on his books and more generally his philosophy.

    Bill Moyers (Left) and Joseph Campbell (Right) in The Power of Myth (1988)

    In later years, he was more clear on his politics, favouring the idea of a hero as a rugged American individualist.[2] And American culture as uniquely positioned to produce self-reliant men who were the epitome of psychological and social wealth. Though you can absolutely identify these ideas leaking into his earlier works too. Additionally, he was a staunch support of the U.S. invasion of Vietnam and avowed against the counterculture movement that was, in some ways, inspired by his own books.

    His final, and perhaps most influential act, was a six part interview with Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) journalist Bill Moyers.[4] He died in 1987, a year before the interview was released, in Honolulu, Hawaii.[2] Making him one of the countless white Americans to retire by occupying indigenous land simply because of the scenic view. Which, honestly, does actually parallel his most famous book quite well too.

    A Journey of Theorisation

    To commence our descent into The Hero’s Journey, I want to provide the first sentence that greets you, the prologue to Campbell’s idea:

    Whether we listen with aloof amusement to the dreamlike mumbo jumbo of some red-eyed witch doctor of the Congoor […] now and again crack the hard nutshell of an argument of Aquinas, or catch suddenly the shining meaning of a bizarre Eskimo fairy tale: it will be always the one, shape-shifting yet marvelously constant story that we find.”[1]

    In reading the entirety of this book, I did try to be mindful of the fact that he is an white American man who grew up at the turn of the 20th century, so some level of racism was to be expected. However, he is also positioning himself as the figurehead for all mythology within the world.

    So, perhaps more than a lot of historical figures, his description of Congolese stories as mumbo jumbo from a witch doctor or Inuit fairy tales as bizarre warrants some scrutiny. These are not the descriptions of an unbiased academic who respects the culture the narratives come from. At best, Campbell seems to exoticise the cultural tales he regales.

    The original Hero’s Journey is a 17 point collection of archetypal story beats, which are split into three parts. Departure, Initiation and Return.[1] In the broadest strokes of the journey, the hero begins setting forth from the ordinary world to the beginning of an adventure, usually a gate to a realm beyond our own. The hero must conquer a superhuman power, or is defeated himself to pass through the gate, where he will undergo mystical trials.

    Our hero will then arrive at the reward he seeks to bring back to mankind, which frequently involves a union with a God-like figure or his own ascension into Godhood, be that metaphorical or literal.[1] The hero then flees the supernatural sphere, either because he stole the reward or must help those back in the material world. He returns transformed and gifting the world novel insight, thereby helping the world to have transformed too.

    The Hero’s Journey (1949) by Joseph Campbell, Page 227
    Note: This image makes it clearer right? Right?…

    If this all sounds rather esoteric and archaic that is because it is. We will delve into detail for each step, but be aware that they don’t all have to co-occur. Rather, for each of the three sections, there are multiple possibilities of things may occur. These possible occurrences do not have to be in the order Campbell presents, so long as the three main points are in order. And these story beats may be entirely literal or so abstractly metaphorical as to be etheric in substance. But we must attempt to grasp at the maddening ether to understand this framework.

    Departing From Generalities

    Departure starts with a Call to Adventure, where the hero is beckoned into starting his journey.[1] This can be a princess being ordered to kiss a frog or a disease needing a supernatural cure. Often accompanying this call is a herald, an older, shrewder man, describing what the hero must do. Next is the Refusal to Call, which does not always need to happen. This can be split into two sections, those who stories end at refusal and those who continue despite refusal.

    The former are stories like King Minos, who keeps a divine bull instead of sacrificing it to the gods, refusing the call to fulfil his spiritual duty.[1] He is then punished for this by his wife sleeping with said bull and birthing a horrific monster, the Minotaur. The other has the hero compelled into the adventure, through trickery or death of loved ones, resulting in pressure that forces action.

    Ionian Minotaur Perfume Bottle, Photographed by Mary Harrsch
    Retrieved From: Wikipedia
    Note: He’s just a little guuuuy

    After this the hero gains Supernatural Aid, where a wise woman or wizard gives them trinkets, spells or amulets to assist them in their supernatural journey. [1] With gifts in tow the hero must Cross The Threshold, passing through a gate in order to enter the supernatural realm. Usually through tricking or defeating the guard of the gate, although in death, a hero can also find themselves somewhere new.

    The concluding part of Departure is The Belly of The Whale, accordingly named after the biblical tale of Jonah which resembles the whale scene from Pinocchio.[1] The Belly represents an area where the hero is reborn in order to pass through the unfamiliar world. A region of safety and, at the same time, mystery. A brief respite of transformation, before his tribulations begins.

    Jonah and The Whale (1621) by Pieter Lastman
    Retrieved From: Wikipedia

    First in Initiation is The Road of Trials, which is exactly what it sounds like.[1] A set of tests the hero must overcome, usually utilising the supernatural aid they previously received. Once the trials are completed there are a few things that can happen as a form of personal spiritual reward. The Meeting With The Goddess is perhaps the most courteous way of saying, the Hero bonds with a supernaturally beautiful woman, usually romantically and physically. Campbell tries to wrap this in esoteric dyads to make it seem less horrifically sexist.

    This does not work, especially because the adjoining section is called, Woman as Temptress.[1] Where a Goddess of Flesh and Love, the antithesis of Christendom, appears to the hero. This encapsulation of sin reveals the delights of womanhood that he has hitherto not understood. Essentially placing women’s worth not just as being arm candy, but as the servitors of orgasmic insight. Campbell nominally positions himself as better than his Catholic upbringing by attempting neutrality towards such archetypal characters. Although, the way he talks about sexuality is rather revealing:

    Generally we refuse to admit within ourselves, or within our friends, the fullness of that pushing, self-protective, malodorous, carnivorous, lecherous fever which is the very nature of the organic cell. Rather, we tend to perfume, whitewash, and reinterpret; meanwhile imagining that all the flies in the ointment, all the hairs in the soup, are the faults of some unpleasant someone else”[1]

    Slightly less horrific is Atonement With Father, which does not flow where it should after the previous two sections.[1] Instead, this is a moment with either a literal patriarch God, or a supernatural parental figure, who guides our hero from boyhood to manhood. This can be through slaying the father figure, rebuking them, or accepting their place within the world.

    Then is Apotheosis, where the prior version of the hero dies, so they can ascend, either into godhood or fresh spiritual understanding.[1] In any of these cases, the hero gains new items, new powers or new wisdom, a so called Ultimate Boon, which he then must bestow to the mortal world.

    Return begins counter-intuitively, with Refusal to Return.[1] The hero refuses to come home because of a charming wife, a wondrous life, or a world of strife which awaits for him. This too can be split like the previous refusal, where the story ends with the hero refusing to come back or it continues due to circumstances outside of his control. Usually, through a Magical Flight whereby he wields supernatural powers to go back home, either sanctioned by the world he is departing from, or being chased by those he has wronged.

    Aladdin (1992) by Disney

    His return is usually aided by the people of the world itself, called the Rescue from Without.[1] This can be magical assists, the opening of the threshold or even the music of the people providing guidance back home. The hero then Crosses the Return Threshold, often with the caveat of struggling to adjust to his home realm. Now he has insight or power, it is unfathomable to ever be normal again. But those who can manage it become the Master of The Two Worlds, able to delve between them and deliver prosperity.

    And all of this ends with The Freedom to Live, referring to the people of the mortal world, who now benefit from the hero’s wisdom or gifts.[1] Now they have gained rare insight and can develop anew, either becoming slightly changed or drastically different from before. Fortunately for us, the insights into Campbell and heroes does not end here.

    Popularising Academia

    You may be somewhat pondering how a dry, rather obtuse academic text managed to become on par with a Three Act Structure in the minds of writers. Well, ironically, the popularisation of The Hero’s Journey also happened within three acts. And it all begins with a little known, minor science fiction adventure trilogy in nine parts, called Star Wars.

    Amongst his other mentors like Francis Ford Coppola, George Lucas states that Campbell was a huge inspiration and guide for his writing with Star Wars.[5] In an interview with Bill Moyers, Lucas states how he employed the Hero’s Journey, to structure the original Star Wars trilogy. This is not just him post-hoc claiming this, contemporary journalists at the time noted the similarity in structure as well. [6]

    Star Wars: A New Hope Poster by Tom Jung

    Star Wars gave a new generation of film nerds instant insight into Campbell’s work and philosophy, not just in terms of heroism. The Force, as stated by Lucas, is a deliberate abstraction of religious beliefs around the world, of faith itself.[5] It allowed him to explore religious symbolism and scholarship in a more modern lens. As well as introducing such ideas to a teenage audience that was increasingly becoming disillusioned with all sects of Christianity.

    But Lucas was not the only influential storyteller to be inspired by Campbell. Christopher Vogler was a story consultant for Disney and Fox amongst others, perhaps best known for his work on the iconoclastic film, The Lion King.[7] In the late 1980s, he wrote a set of memos whilst working at Disney about The Hero’s Journey, which he then compiled into a 1992 guide for screenwriters at the company and beyond.[8]

    By his own telling, the memo was hot stuff in the writing departments and even was read by then head of Disney, Jeffery “So Petty He Made A Competing Film Studio” Katzenberg.[8] Vogler uses a 12 point condensed version of the Hero’s Journey and peddles it not just as a possible structure, but as a great rubric to decide if any writing is good. Put differently, The Hero’s Journey is not just a framework, but a standard by which all stories must be measured against. Since, as Vogler articulates:

    Campbell’s contribution was to gather the ideas together, recognize them, articulate them, and name them. He exposes the pattern for the first time, the pattern that lies behind every story ever told”[8]

    This hyperbole is likely the result of Vogler overselling his memos at Disney to establish himself as more notable and gain more prestigious work. Nevertheless, the idea of The Hero’s Journey as a metric is not wholly original, as Campbell did often view his own framework as the pinnacle of classical storytelling.[2][4] And even more so, journalists, essayists and writers still view The Hero’s Journey to such high regard. But, it isn’t just in narrative niches, that Campbell’s work made a splash.

    Masculine Myth Making

    The Mythopoeic Movement was a faction of men’s mental health advocates in the 1980s and 90s. It’s foundational author was Robert Bly, who was inspired by Campbell to use mythology in guiding men.[9] He speculated, much as Campbell did, that tales could be used to combat the psychological and social ills facing men at the time.[10] Especially the grief of a bygone age, where they had structure and purpose.

    Robert Bly at Poetry Out Loud Finals, Minnesota 2009, Photographed by Nic McPhee
    Retrieved From: Flickr

    Now, I have to pause here because the Mythopoeic Movement is complicated, in a similar way to how Campbell’s philosophy and modern men’s mental health activism is. There are good ideas from these voices. Such as Campbell’s advice for men to have hobbies and time just for themselves, to get away from the stresses of a capitalistic hellscape.[4] In a similar fashion, the Mythopoeic Movement advocated for men to get in touch with their emotions, to freely cry and grieve, without constraint.[9]

    However, the issue that many of these movements face can be simply summed up in three words. They’re not intersectional. Meaning, they only consider the perspective of how white masculinity is in crisis. This is not wholly unique to men’s mental health, white feminists of the 80s were similarly criticised for their focus only those whose sole marginalisation was their biological sex. Causing black women, trans women, disabled women, poor women and more to never be directly helped or considered in such activism.

    Though, the Mythopoeic Movement and Campbell were remarkably bad for this, as they rather viewed themselves as above political and social advocacy. [4][9] Their universalist, psychological approach, meant there was no need to consider the context of the time they lived in and simply should promote broad, arching beliefs about all men’s necessities. Some of this was reasonable, like encouraging intra-gender friendship, creating bonds with fellow men.

    Others were well…whining about sexism. Or more specifically, whining about women who dared to state they were, for most intents and purposes, the same as men. Bly, Campbell and other similar proponents only wished to celebrate the unique differences between men and women. By acknowledging the irrevocable truth that your gentials dictate your brain, soul, personality and capabilities.[1][4][11] It’s just facts and logic.[No Citation Found]

    Jordan “Lobster Understander” Peterson at Toronto University (2017), Photographed by Adam Jacobs
    Retrieved From: Flickr

    It is plain to see how Campbell and Bly’s ideas have festered into modern conservatism, men’s rights activism and even messaging on mental health. But it is equally critical to state that both, rather conveniently, only really appealed to men like them. Never considering, never thinking, never inviting in, those with vastly diverse experiences. Be that due to class, disability, race or other marginalisations. One piece of advice that has stuck in my head throughout this reading as symptomatic of this is Follow Your Bliss.

    The term originated with Campbell and is his idea that to be truly like a hero, you must follow your passions.[4] It is a refrain shared by Lucas in the interviews he’s given and by Bly in his book.[5][9] This means, finding a job you love and making it a cornerstone of your life, monetarily and psychologically. Which is a nice sentiment. In theory. But as any person in a even a mildly competitive industry will tell you it is laborious to achieve. I do not want to sound like a doomer here and say it is impossible.

    But rather, foster a sense of realism. That for the impoverished, the marginalised, the most shunned of society, following your bliss can be incredibly difficult. Barriers of mental health, of stigmatisation, of internal and external pressures constantly build up to prevent you from doing so. To choose to follow your passions requires sacrifice, support, and is a monumentous choice for the majority of people, let alone the majority of men. Such halcyon dreaming, can really only be followed with ease, when social, economic and political issues do not touch you.

    Dying Achilles by Ernst Herter, Photographer Unknown
    Retrieved From: Pinterest

    As the hero is often rendered invulnerable by the supernatural aid of his allies. The experiences of Bly, Lucas and Campbell show how they were rendered indestructible by the unnatural assistance of policies, societal support and birthright financing in their favour. But of course, those of us without such direct access to these advantages, have to create our own magic, to carve a similar path. And even then, sparks of magic are easily snuffed out.

    Carrying A Different Message

    Over the next couple of essays, we will be exploring more detail about the inaccuracies of the Hero’s Journey. But to finish off this section, I wanted to talk about an alternate theory to writing and structure, one that has stuck with me as a writer. Ursula K LeGuin was an American fantasy and science fiction writer, perhaps best known for book series, Tales of Earthsea, which was adapted into a Studio Ghibli movie. As well, she was an essayist who discussed the nature of narrative itself.

    In 1986, LeGuin wrote one such musing called, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction.[12] The essay is based on Elizabeth Fisher’s book Women’s Creation, in which she argues for the titular theory.[13] The concept blends prehistoric study and how we tell the stories of prehistory. It asserts that the first thing to ever be created as a tool, was not a weapon made of bone, but likely a container to carry food.

    This is based on the fact that most prehistorical societies had the majority of their food from gathering fruits, nuts, vegetable, fungi and anything else you could find nearby. Meat from hunting was more of a treat, like a takeout with deadly stakes. So a takeout.

    LeGuin furthers this, stating that the idea of our first act of creation being to carry, is more grounded in the world she wishes to live in, then our first act being violence.[12] And that although many stories tell of hero’s violent exploits, killing and slaying to gain a prize, she derives comfort in the heroes who navigate through life in more ordinary ways. Who carry words, items, or crafts of their own devising to trick, to bargain, to pass but never to kill.

    I use this as a comparison to Campbell, because LeGuin states this as a sort of pseudo-philosophy as well. A philosophy of people and happiness. For, as she remarks, those who simply foraged and occasionally hunted, possessed much more free time for hobbies, for passions and love.[12]

    Though I cannot assert the historical truth of this idea, I like this for the ideas LeGuin presents beyond factual basis. Like Campbell, it is a way of telling stories and viewing our lives, focusing on those who gather, on those who cultivate, on small conversations and minor acts of kindness. As she says, this kind of story may be:

    A strange realism, but [life] is a strange reality.”[12]

    And ultimately, this reality is one I too would rather occupy, then one of Campbell’s devising.

    Thank you for reading, I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences with The Hero’s Journey. Next time we will be tackling psychoanalysis in Campbell’s writing and how it leads to bad personal and mental health advice.

    References

    1. Campbell, J. (1949). The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Pantheon Books.
    2. Segal, R. (2019). Joseph Campbell | Biography, Books, & Facts. In Encyclopædia Britannica. Retrieved From: Britannica
    3. Sutton, B. (2024, July 31). American Museum of Natural History has repatriated more than 100 Native American human remains and 90 objects. The Art Newspaper – International Art News and Events. Retrieved From: The Art Newspaper
    4. Campbell, J., Moyers, B. (1988). The Power of Myth. PBS.
    5. Lucas, G,. Moyers, B. (1999) The Mythology of ‘Star Wars’. Film for the Humanities and Sciences. Retrieved From: Youtube
    6. Gordon, A. (1978). “Star Wars”: A Myth for Our Time. Literature/Film Quarterly, 6(4), 314–326.
    7. The Lion King – Full Cast and Crew. IMDB. Retrieved From: IMDB
    8. Vogler, C. (1992). The Writer’s Journey. Retrieved From: Web Archive
    9. Bly, R. (1990). Iron John : A Book About Men. Vintage Books.
    10. Quinn, F. (2000) An Interview With Robert Bly. Paris Review. Retrieved From: RobertBly.com
    11. Connell, R. (2005). Masculinities. Routledge.
    12. Le Guin, U. K. (1986). The carrier bag theory of fiction. The ecocriticism reader: Landmarks in literary ecology, 149-154.
    13. Fisher, E. (1980). Woman’s Creation. McGraw-Hill Companies.