The hero in all of us

One of the reasons that I studied (if that's the right word for going to a few lectures) physics at university is that it has a very simple view of creation. General relativity, quantum electrodynamics and statistical mechanics might get quite complicated, but they never try to address the question: "Why?"

The question is probably unanswerable, but it is part of our nature to ask it. Having wondered why, we also seem to find it impossible to accept that things might just be the way they are for no reason at all, so we attach meaning where none already existed.

This is part of the premise for The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hero_with_a_Thousand_Faces). And since we share the same psyche, the meanings we tend to attach to our reality share similar themes, conforming to what Campbell labelled the "monomyth".

The Hero was first published in 1949, but gained noteriety when cited by George Lucas as an influence in writing Star Wars. Ever since, Hollywood producers have sought scripts with similar elements and structure.

The hero, the quest, the journey through the underworld, the tests, etc., have become de riguer and, as a result, movies have become depressingly predictable. You can see the pattern in everything from Dodgeball to Die Hard, but The Matrix is its ultimate update. Or should that be upgrade?

What Hollywood missed, or discarded, are Cambell's final thoughts on what the monomyth did for the ordinary individual when the myths were developed, and what they tell the modern individual. It's all very well knowing why the deeds of Beowulf and Odysseus appeal to the human brain, but how did that help the ploughman and what can it do for the telesales operator, other than provide a distraction from drudgery?

Cambell's view is that historically myths provided an analogy for everyone's life. We are all the hero on a quest. The quest is probably not what we think it is but we will learn and grow as a result. What we learn is to accept our changing role within family and community.

These lessons are still relevant in the modern world, although the rise of nations and corporate globalisation make it even more difficult to feel connected to community. Contentment can still come fom being the ordinary hero.

If nothing else, Campbell's words amused me when they came back to mind in John Lewis, while buying a vacuum cleaner. I reluctantly answered the hero's call, journeyed far (on the Overground and Underground), was assisted in my quest (by my wife), faced my ordeal (finding the toilets), passed through the underworld (the Waitrose food hall) to the reward (a Dyson, waiting to be picked up from Customer Orders) before returning home to share my treasure (with an unappreciative cat).

Myths are full of the extra-ordinary, so we know what is expected when we hear the call. And the call to extra-ordinary or difficult tasks is more common than you might think. There is always a need to speak up for the voiceless, stand up to bullies, take up the minority cause. Myths reassure us that there is something magical in simply doing the thing we believe is right.

Further, the line between ordinary and extra-ordinary is impossible to draw. Disease and disability, childbirth and child rearing, devotion to parents and siblings, are ordinary challenges that often require extra-ordinary character.

What is usually lost in the Hollywood version of the monomyth is the analogy to the everyday. As a result, we are allowed to long for a life like Luke Skywalker or Neo without any hope of fulfilment.

But the Jedi Order and the Matrix are both real and unreal, now that they have become rooted in our psyche. They provide us with another set of analogies and sometimes a touchstone for modern life.