Thursday, June 13, 2013

Why nobody cares about Superman (but should): a brief study of the importance of a mythology of virtue

                It’s no secret that Superman has struggled in recent years. Since his heyday in the 40’s and 50’s, he’s discovered a weakness greater even than kryptonite: a decline in popularity.  In a market filled with other super-powered, rage-powered, alien-powered, and money-powered heroes, Superman has found himself at a loss as to how to adapt to the changing tastes of his audience.  His name no longer holds the power that it once did, as a multiplicity of very interesting and very cool characters, filled to the brim with humanity, have caught our ever-wandering eye and drawn us away from the Last Son of Krypton.  In the end, however, it is you and I, who will  suffer the loss.

Needs no introduction.
                As film writer Max Landis (too joyously, perhaps) explains in his parody, The Death and Return of Superman, nobody cares about Superman. Enlisting the help of “comedic effect” and multiple celebrity cameos (look out for Frodo Baggins as “The Villain”), the film re-presents the events of one of the most ground-breaking Man of Steel story arcs, in which our hero faces off against the aptly-named villain, Doomsday.  To make a long story short, Superman is killed, only to return to life once again.  This previously unthinkable event is, Landis claims, the last-ditch effort of a comics publisher (DC Comics) trying to make a 50-year-old character relevant again.  Landis states that Superman’s popularity stems solely from his primacy among Superheroes: he was simply the first.  Since then, the genre has spawned innumerable heroes with similar or even identical powers, and one power, according to Landis, even greater: “pathos.”

Plato and Aristotle, talking about last night's Swamp People, probably.
                “Pathos,” as used in literature and art, is an appeal to the emotions of the audience.  In short, it is used to stir up a desired emotion in order to convey a specific message to the audience.  The concept of Pathos was most notably expounded upon by Aristotle, the ancient Greek philosopher and student of Plato.  He described it as a method of persuasion by which one would utilize emotion in order to manipulate the audience.  Contrast this with alternative methods of persuasion: “ethos,” by which a message is conveyed by the character of the speaker/author, and “logos,” (literally “word”) in which logic is used to arrive at a truth.  In short, there are three methods by which to communicate a particular message: Pathos (emotion), Ethos (character), and Logos (logic).


                Back to Landis.  He suggests that “pathos” is the ultimate appeal of superhero stories.  For the reader, the importance of the story lies in its ability to stir up emotion.  I couldn’t disagree more.  Sure, emotion draws us in, it helps us to see ourselves in the story, but I believe there is more to superhero stories than emotion.  I believe there is truth. 

                Something bizarre happened in popular culture around the turn of the 20th century.  It began in the United States in the 1990’s and spread to the rest of the globe with the new millennium.  Millions of people were glued to their television screens with one question in mind: “Who will be voted off of the island?”  Of course, I’m referring to the phenomenon of reality television.  Everything from The Real World, to Survivor, to Big Brother, to (God help us) Here Comes Honey-Boo-Boo: we couldn’t get enough.  These television shows, designed to entertain, did more than just that: they helped us to feel.  Whether it was disappointment that our favorite celebrity fell in Dancing with the Stars, relief that our guy/girl made it through on American Idol, or confusion/elation at the hijinks of those kids on Jersey Shore, we felt something that we believed was real.  Sometimes we laughed, sometimes we cried, but there was never a dull moment.  Pathos to the extreme.  There was also very little of worth.  Pure entertainment – nothing of substance.  It’s like we cried a collective shout (undoubtedly in the voice of Kurt Cobain): “HERE WE ARE! NOW ENTERTAIN US!”  And we got just that.
In the early 21st century, 3000 years of Western Civilization culminated in this.


                Herein lies the problem.  Culture needs to do more than entertain; it needs to instruct.  The stories and characters that we create do so much more than give rise to emotions.  They inform our own society (as well posterity) of just WHO WE ARE.  TAKE A MOMENT TO LET THAT SINK IN.  That you and I are members of the culture that creates an art form, means that we are reflected in that very art from.  So when WE watch Duck Dynasty, like it or not, it’s like looking in a mirror.

                “What does this have to do with Superman?” you might ask.  “Everything,” I might respond.  By latching onto these types of stories, “real” stories about “real” people, we focus our attention on characters (and in the case of reality TV shows, media) that are deeply flawed.  After all, we are all flawed and can relate to others who are also flawed (sometimes to the extreme).  One complaint I often hear about the character of Superman, is that he is “too powerful.”  In other words, “he’s nothing like us: how can he have an interesting story if he’s nothing like us?”  This might be why someone like Max Landis would think it was important to kill Superman: at least this way he can die – he’s unlike us in all things but death.  That at least is something (finally) that we share could with Superman.


                Connecting ourselves to our stories primarily through emotion ignores two UNIGNORABLE concepts: ethos and logos - Truth with the power to transform.  By its very nature, the superhero story is unrealistic: it is about someone who can do things that ordinary people cannot.  They routinely show the impossible.  Feats of superhuman strength, unassisted flight, near invulnerability, etc. are all commonplace in the superhero story, yet unheard of in the real world.  What Superman displays (aside from these powers), is a strength of virtue.  The desire to do that which is best.  Historically, he is driven by “truth, justice and the American way.”  What else is truth but logos, and justice but the practical application of that truth (which shows itself through character – ethos)?  In short, Superman embodies the ideals of truth, justice, virtue and goodness.  We hold such a story up as a model.  Superman is meant to be an example of the best possible version of ourselves.  As stated in Richard Donner’s Superman: The Movie (1977)*, “(Humans) could be great people…they wish to be.  They only lack the light to show the way.”  This concept appears to have found a new incarnation in Zack Snyder’s upcoming film, Man of Steel: “You will give the people of earth an ideal to strive towards. They will race behind you; they will stumble, they will fall. But in time, they will join you in the sun. In time, you will help them accomplish wonders.”  When we break from a myth of virtue and truth, embracing instead stories of weakness and vanity, we deny our true identity: a people who are intrinsically good and capable of wonders!  In his magnum opus, Kill Bill, writer/director Quentin Tarantino comments on Superman’s identity.  Following is a clip from that film:

                “Now, a staple of the superhero mythology is, there’s the superhero and there’s the alter ego.  Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker.  When that character wakes up in the morning, he’s Peter Parker.  He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man.  And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone.  Superman didn’t become Superman.  Superman was born Superman.  When Superman wakes up in the morning, he’s Superman.  His alter ego is Clark Kent.  His outfit with the big red “S” – that’s the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him.  Those are his clothes.  What Kent wears – the glasses, the business suit – that’s the costume.  That’s the costume Superman wears to blend in with us.”

                I propose that you and I share this unique “alter ego” situation.  Just as Superman disguises himself as Clark Kent, so too are we the stewards of truth, beauty, and goodness.  Those ideals dwell within our flawed humanity.  We are a “great people,” we can “accomplish wonders,” facts which have been demonstrated by  great men and women throughout history – and sometimes it takes incredible acts of selflessness and fortitude in the name of those ideals to stir them up in us (witness the examples of Socrates, Jesus of Nazareth, Martin Luther King Jr., etc.)!  THIS is why a mythology of virtue is critical: a mythology of virtue preserves and defends transcendent truths (logos), while at the same time transforming us into the “superheroes” we were meant to be (ethos).   They help us to see the difference between how things are and how they ought to be.

                I have yet to see the new film, Man of Steel, so I can’t comment on its quality or presentation of the story; I can only hope that it suitably preserves the Superman mythos – giving us an “ideal to strive towards,” showing us the best possible version of ourselves.

Until next time – get out there and live.
TL


*This links to the Superman Returns trailer, which borrows Marlon Brando’s epic words from 1977’s Superman.

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