|
Aaron Rawls versus George Lucas and Joseph Campbell
| |
| Aaron_Rawls | Date: Sunday, 11 Jan 2009, 11:47 PM | Message # 1 |
 Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 38
Status: Offline
| (it's an old post, I know, but I wanted to repost it here since the original Group is shutting down) Aaron Rawls versus George Lucas and Joseph Campbell
LONG WINDED MEDITATIONS ON MY OWN CHARACTER
The other week I got into an argument with Havoc in the chat on the matter of the Prequel movies, and how I thought they easily could have been exponentially better. Specifically the subject of my scorn was Episode I; it seemed completely unnecessary to me to spend an entire film (George only had three to work with afterall) on Anakin's childhood, necessitating the creation of a whole new host of unnecessary secondary characters and meaningless plot devices and battle scenes that look pretty on screen but ultimately don't accomplish anything. However, I've since done some reading on the matter and found that the Episode I formula makes perfect sense when you consider that George Lucas is closely following the tradition of mythologist Joseph Campbell (and I'll explain why it's still a bad thing in a few long and boring paragraphs from now).
Firstly; yes I did say mythologist. There's a reason that you'll find Star Wars novels on the Fantasy shelf in most bookstores; because in the strictest sense the plot really is less science fiction and more fantasy, or more accurately, myth. Indeed, throughout the original trilogy films (and especially throughout the prequels), George Lucas tells the story of what Joseph Campbell calls the "monomyth." According to Campbell, the monomyth is basically the story of the mighty hero's journey that develops in these specific stages:
1. A call to adventure, which the hero must accept or decline
2. A road of trials, regarding which the hero succeeds or fails
3. Achieving the goal or "boon," which often results in important self-knowledge
The parallels with the original trilogy are obvious; Luke the anxious farmboy goes on a quest with his mystic teacher to save the Princess and kill the evil bad guys, in what amounts to an amalgamation of myth and feudal fantasy. However, there are other interpretations of Campbell's work that elaborate on the hero's journey and make the parallels to the Prequel trilogy even more obvious. Consider this Cambpellian version of events:
1. Miraculous conception and birth
2. Initiation of the hero-child
3. Withdrawal from family or community for meditation and preparation
4. Trial and Quest
5. Death
6. Descent into the underworld
7. Resurrection and rebirth
8. Ascension, apotheosis, and atonement.
George Lucas makes no secret of the fact that he borrows heavily from Joseph Campbell's formula, if it isn't already obvious from the story of Luke and ultimately, through the Prequels, the story of Anakin. This all helped explain to me why George would throw away one of his movies on Anakin's early childhood (right down to his Jesusesque conception), but it still didn't justify anything to me.
Afterall, what is it about the prototype mythological hero that we're supposed to relate to? I daresay that none of us are born to virgins, and fewer still are summoned at childhood to go on some great quest that will determine the fate of the galaxy in some sort of "ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny" (credit to Viera for that phrase). Sure, the journey is exciting and fun and escapism at its best, but I guess what I'm getting at is this: does anyone really sympathize with Hayden Christensen's relentless emo bitching?
Here's where I'll finally come to the point of my admittedly long-winded post: the "hero" is all well and good, but there are few spectacular and super elite heroes among us. This is where the great Aaron Rawls fits into the mix (and yes, the remainder of this post will be a shameless promotion of my own character).
I'm not a novelist or a movie director with a budget bigger than my giant wavy George Lucas hair, so when I want to make a symbolic message I use this RP medium that we're all participating in. Specifically, the not-so-subtle moral that I construct through the character of Aaron Rawls can be summarized succinctly: "screw you Joseph Campbell" (although just to be clear, I'm sure he was personally a fine fella, may he rest in peace). Added (12 Jan 2009, 0:47 Am)
---------------------------------------------
It comes down to the premise of the antihero versus the hero. The "antihero" is the protagonist who has pronounced personality or character defects or eccentricities which are not usually associated with the hero archetype. Isn't there something to be said for the protagonist that's just an average fella out to pass the time and make a living for himself and his loved ones? When the antihero does encounter extraordinary circumstances and eventually does stand up for what is right and just (even if his motives are suspect), doesn't it make that character even more heroic?
For the most part, all of us live very average and unextraordinary lives, and most of us will also readily admit that we're far from perfect (we all have those "character defects or eccentricities"). And yet, everyone is - to themselves - the main protagonist in their own story; usually a not-so-epic story of going to school or getting a job or paying the bills or feeding the kids. In short, we're all common folk and antiheroes in our own right.
This is why I find it makes so much more sense to sympathize with the antihero protagonist; not some uber monomyth who runs away on an epic, harrowing adventure, but rather the sort of average folk that live their lives trying to avoid that sort of harrowing adventure (though they always seem to find it anyway, and in the case of Aaron Rawls, much to his annoyance).
This is why I often go about making Rawls as average as possible (and I hope that in doing so it's easier for other RPers to relate to his character). For example: far from a miraculous conception, Rawls is born to a prostitute on one of the seediest planets in the Star Wars galaxy and has, at best, a tense relationship with his father throughout his childhood life. He grows up surrounded by very average (and usually below average) criminals and smugglers of the worst sort. Despite his admittedly "heroic," but devastating tenure with the Rebellion, Rawls eventually becomes almost everything he hated in his father, having earned some intimacy issues after the traumatic Battle of Kor Almanas.
Assuming anyone is still reading this, I won't bore you with too many of the tedious details of Rawls' character. Suffice to say, his struggle is not the epic black-and-white, good-versus-evil battle of the hero, but the internal struggles of a flawed man whose only purpose in life is to keep on going from one paycheck to the next and protect his friends in the process. When he finally is confronted with great peril, his decisions are most often guided by his own demons and internal struggles, and yet at the end of the day there is often more conflict than peace; more questions than answers.
That, to me, is really what life is about. We're all the heroes of our own story, and we're all flawed individuals. Everyone has their own array of demons and complicated emotions, and most of the time we don't even understand them ourselves. That's really the moral of this story of Aaron Rawls, and I think it's something that most people can relate to on a level beyond the Tatooine slave boy who grows up to destroy (and save) the galaxy.
Aaron Rawls
Captain of the Aphelion
Smuggler, Scoundrel (occasional "Baron")
|
| |
| |
| Management | Date: Sunday, 11 Jan 2009, 11:56 PM | Message # 2 |
 Manager
Group: Administrators
Messages: 61
Status: Offline
| (posted by §_Chancellor_H_Joffine on 9/19/2007 11:38 AM) Very nice monologue, worthy of any documentary on the subject. I agree with you on most of your points, however, I chafe at the way you oversimplify the original SW saga with Luke as its 'hero'. If you go back and watch the movies, there is nothing really heroic about Luke's backstory, either. He grew up as a moisture farmer's boy on probably one of the most classic backwaters in history. There's certainly nothing heroic about where he came from - yes, his father was Anakin Skywalker - but, ironically enough, to protect him from such a legacy he was placed in such a menial environment.
I argue strongly in the belief that most people can relate to the fundamental struggle that Luke witnesses throughout the original trilogy. If you look at the underlying themes, you can connect with his goals and hardships quite easily, especially in the second movie, ESB. Luke has to make a decision in the latter part of the movie on the part of his good friends (Han/Leia) - whether to stay on Dagobah and continue training with Master Yoda, or fly off to Bespin and protect his friends. Despite all the warnings of doom from a Jedi Master (arguably the best of all time), Luke risks his own life to defend the mortality of his friends. Now that is a very good theme that needs to be reinforced in our society - sacrifice. Without sacrifice, without trial, what the heck are people doing with their lives? On any level..whether it be giving to the Church, a charity, promoting societal progress in your work, career, family..and, of course, the obvious one - military service. Sacrifice folks. That's the main message of Luke's saga. And everybody can relate to that and take that message to heart.
On another note, I recommend M. Night Shyamalan's superb movie, Unbreakable for additional cinematic perspectives on the 'hero/anti-hero' debate.
|
| |
| |
| Aaron_Rawls | Date: Monday, 12 Jan 2009, 0:22 AM | Message # 3 |
|
Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 38
Status: Offline
| Well firstly, with regard to Haane; thank you and, incidentally, you're right in that I did oversimplify Luke's struggles throughout the original trilogy quite a bit, and probably more than I should have. Luke's humble beginnings (despite being unknowingly a part of an epic heritage) is also something that most of us can probably relate to. Afterall, at the beginning of Star Wars he's the brash, idealistic kid who's living what's almost a humorously mundane life, dreaming of all manner of adventure and excitement. The notion then that a mere common farmboy would go out on such a epic quest, I think as I mentioned before, is cinematic escapism at its best (which I'm sure we can all relate to, since RP is essentially escapism).
It's also fair to say that Luke does deal with a lot of inner turmoil (especially in ROTJ and ESB, which was neither written* nor directed by George Lucas), so I do need to give credit there where its due and admit that I probably treated the original trilogy a bit unfairly. Even so, while it does make for a compelling character drama, it's hard for me personally to set aside the fact that much of the demons that Luke grapples with are a response to, in this case, a two-foot-tall green muppet with pointy ears - something that most people don't typically encounter in their daily lives (with some exceptions, I'm sure).
That said, my beef is more with the Prequel trilogy and its innumerable plot holes through which Lucas steers his unwieldy, badly written and poorly concieved notion of the Campbellian hero, and all at the expense of the viewer's intelligence. That may seem a bit harsh, but at this point I almost feel like I'm entitled to some kind of financial compensation just for enduring Jar Jar.
But yes, in contrast to the Prequels I think there are certain lessons to be had from the original trilogy. Namely among them, as you mentioned, is the notion of sacrifice. I would also suggest (most likely in a later rant) that another important lesson from Episodes IV-VI is to emphasize the importance of friendship, fealty and love (apologies if that sounds horribly cliche and sentimental).
I also forgot to mention (since it's been brought up by other players) that Han Solo really is the antihero of Star Wars, which in my estimation explains why he often seems to completely overshadow Luke in the original trilogy, and I think is generally the more popular character. You explained it best; that Solo is out for himself, to make some money and get by, and he obviously influenced Aaron Rawls quite a bit. I'll just add onto that, though, that I think it's a shame that Lucas edited the sequence with Greedo in the Special Edition to make Solo more of a softie (and provoking the raging debate over "who shot first"**).
*Or more specifically, the ESB screenplay wasn't written by Lucas.
**Han did. (UPDATE: I finally did take Haane's advice and, 12 months after this post, saw Unbreakable, by M. Night Shyamalan. He was right; it's a superb movie, and I say this as one who generally doesn't care for Shyamalan's work (or for comic books, which are the basis of the movie). The main character of the film is a security guard with marital troubles and no sense of direction in his life, who slowly comes to realize that he is, in fact, a comic bookesque superhero. However, while he is, in fact, a "hero" in the mythological, Campbellian sense, I would argue that Shyamalan portrays the character as more of an antihero, in that he has reservations and (understandable) skepticism about his newfound ability, and some apparent internal debate as to his obligations to society versus his family. Anyway, Haane was right; it's a great movie and I recommend it).
Aaron Rawls
Captain of the Aphelion
Smuggler, Scoundrel (occasional "Baron")
|
| |
| |
|
