Friday, April 29, 2011

The Mythical Joys of Electronic Things


So... I write this from my laptop, which is a pretty big deal for me.

It turns out that at the end of last week, right in the middle of that beloved chaos which we lovingly call the last few weeks of school, my laptop decided to just start turning itself off. A lot. All the time. Right away. It was a really sneaky sort of illness too. Everything looked just fine on the outside and then one day I went to revise a paper and woosh. No more happy helpful computer. Tragedy struck my life. :(

Anyhow, I really wanted to share because believe me it felt earnestly mythic to me. Absolutely felt like some crazy trickster god somewhere thought it would be oh-so-funny to take out my lifeline at this crucial moment in my senior year. Special, really.

However. I had a Hero! This fabulous dude named Gordon appeared (we're going to say "out of nowhere" because, honestly, "the yellow pages" doesn't sound nearly so fabulous) and promised to do everything in his power to nurse my poor computer (and all of the papers it contained) back to health.

Well, he whisked away and I spent 5 nail-biting days trying to wade through class and life and Easter weekend on my own. Ach. It was emphatically my own Road of Trials. I don't know how many of you have tried to write a thoughtful paper from start to finish while seated in the crowed Renne Library at what was possibly the dirtiest keyboard known to mankind, but believe me, it counts as an adventure!


Eew.

Ahem, anyhow. Through surely magical means Gordon pulled through for me and my computer and I have been reunited just in time to sail through our very last day of classes ever together.

This is a very special moment.

Thank you, Gordon.

Beyond the Sparkle: The Significance of Stardust



Stardust is one of my all-time favorite movies, and I was lucky enough to write about it from a mythic standpoint. Here is my final paper:

 “Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?” Thus the powerfully mythic voice of Ian McKellan warmly invites the viewer into the complex and fascinating world of Stardust. The 2007 Paramount Pictures film begins with the simple narration of this question, which urges its audience to beg another: Are we human because we wonder? The answer lies deep within the sacred purpose of mythology, to wonder and to seek explanation. As we slip into the film it becomes apparent that wonderment holds no bounds, for in the world of Stardust nothing is quite as it seems. Are we human because we gaze at the stars? McKellan gently corrects us, “Do the stars gaze back? Now there’s a question.”
Stardust is the classic story of a boy who becomes a man. Not just any boy, however, Tristan Thorn is clearly destined for greatness. In fact, we know from the start that he must be far from ordinary for Tristan fits perfectly into the first two stages of E. B. Taylor’s hero paradigm. The product of a secret tryst between a young man in England and a maiden from the supernatural land of Wall, Tristan is left in a basket – exposed – at the border between the magical and the mundane. Moreover, although his father does the best he can, Tristan is largely on his own. He might as well be raised by wolves as he bumbles through an ordinary small town in an ordinary small world. By the time he reaches maturity Tristan is positively itching for his chance. All that waits is the return to the land of his birth.
Raised in ignorance of his birthright, Tristan represents the perfect “hero in the rough”, so to speak. He is awkward, young and uncomfortable, tripping over his own tongue at the sight of his crush, Victoria. Truly, all that he needs his own Call to Adventure – a call that finally comes when the haughty Victoria expresses a wish for a particular falling star and inspires Tristan to go racing after it. The search for this star will take Tristan deep into the forbidden land of Wall, but such is his devotion and thirst for adventure that he eagerly ventures forth. Little does he know the great secret of the stars or the perilous journey that awaits him.
Before Tristan can cross the boundary into Wall, however, he must confront its guardian. One of the classic archetypes in any myth is the Trickster – a devious, clever character who uses wit and deception to achieve his goals – and the gatekeeper more than adequately fulfills this role. He is the guardian-protector of the liminal space between Wall and England, keeper of the boundary between the supernatural and the mundane. He watches over that threshold and in doing so serves to bridge the chasm between the two worlds. Not just a barrier, though, this old man also serves as the messenger between the magic realm and the inhabitants of reality as we know it. When baby Tristan is left out at the gate, for instance, it is the gatekeeper who brings him to his father’s door.
Creative, inventive and innovative, the gatekeeper patrols his threshold with sly vigilance. He is a masterful illusion, ambiguous and enigmatic. As Tristan discovers to his dismay, this Trickster’s very appearance belies his true capabilities. A wizened, decrepit man at first glance, he proves to be spry and adaptive. When Tristan tries a bit of deception in order to sneak through the gateway he finds himself out-tricked as its custodian suddenly springs into action, displaying a terrifying mastery of martial arts. Here the situation-inverter aspect of the Trickster rears its head as Tristan literally has his feet pulled out from under him.
Joseph Campbell’s Journey of the Hero continues to ring true. Tristan receives his Call to Adventure and then is met with Refusal in the form of the gate’s guardian. Although this refusal does not originate from Tristan himself, it still represents the irresistible pull of the conventions of the world to which he has become accustomed and as such is a product of the same environment that shaped him. The third stage of the journey occurs next in the form of a letter and a little magic left to Tristan by his mother. Although he has been denied entrance to Wall in the traditional manner, Supernatural Aid is granted via a special candle that transports him directly to the star’s landing spot.
Well, it turns out that in Wall the stars do gaze back. Indeed, the object of Tristan’s quest is not a lump of celestial rock but a beautiful woman named Yvaine who has been knocked from the heavens by a series of events that is already threatening to collapse the entire balance of life. In a way, she is reminiscent of a sort of young sky goddess. The shining central figure of the entire story, she is the guiding evening star, the reason for the film’s opening question, the purpose behind Tristan’s heroic journey. The mere fact of her existence is enough to change the world. Yvaine lies at the center of all that is happening throughout the kingdom of Stormhold (the ruling seat of Wall). Here Tristan finds her, and here his journey truly begins.
Tristan and Yvaine find themselves rapidly embroiled in a battle for survival. Not only their own but the lives of all who oppose the reign of evil are in jeopardy. Voices of the other stars speak to Tristan in a dream, telling him of the danger Yvaine is in and entreating him to be her aid. He learns the significance of her secret and awakens to renewed energy and a complete understanding of his mission. Thus Tristan completes the fourth stage of Campbell’s Journey, Crossing the First Threshold, and all too soon finds himself deep within the fifth: Belly of the Whale. He and Yvaine are trapped by a witch, backed into a corner and surrounded by flames.
Time and time again our mythological heroes, seemly caught in a no-win situation and doomed to failure, receive help from above. Whether it is Hercules seeking the favor of Zeus, or Venus intervening on behalf of her son Aeneas, this remains a crucial facet of a hero’s realism: he cannot do everything by himself. We as humans need to see this aspect of our heroes. In appearing vulnerable they become simultaneously accessible to the common man and so it is a relief and source of hope to us that even heroes must acknowledge their limitations. We catch our breath in collective fear for their plight and then rise cheering as faith pays off and unexpected assistance swoops in to save the day.
In a brazen, swaggering descent from the heavens, Captain Shakespeare bursts onto the scene of Tristan and Yvaine’s moment of despair, becoming in his entrance Tristan’s very own fairy godfather. Shakespeare (charmingly portrayed by Robert DeNiro) is the captain of a magical sky ship who grants protection and haven to the pair, even offering Tristan a fictitious family relationship as part of the guise. As Captain Shakespeare’s nephew, Tristan is able to secure safe passage through hazardous sky waters, picking up a new wardrobe and confident demeanor along the way. Yvaine in turn gets to experience life as a woman for the very first time. Both she and Tristan truly find their footing as individuals on this ship in the clouds.
While their journey does continue on and through much bravery and hardship the world is indeed saved, it is the time spent aboard Shakespeare’s ship that embodies the most important message of this film. Consider the opening question: “Do the stars gaze back?” That fundamental shift from, “Why do I do this?” to, “maybe other people do too,” is crucial. One of the common threads running throughout the global fabric of mythology is that of otherness, of confronting that which we consider to be other and realizing the similarity with self. It is a message of acceptance as well as understanding and is essential to the cause of personal betterment.
The true value of a hero often lies in his duality. He may struggle to understand his place in conflicting or changing worlds. He may even wake up one day to find he is no longer the person he once thought himself to be. The mythic moment occurs when he conquers this confusion, learns to look at himself and others in open-minded manner, and realizes that each person’s place is exactly what he or she makes of it. We see this most clearly in animal groom stories such as Cupid and Psyche or Beauty and the Beast, where the message of acceptance is obvious. In this case, the understanding occurs on a more personal basis.
Ultimately, Tristan individually accomplishes the task of becoming comfortable with who he is and in doing so portrays the essence of heroism. Indeed, the myth is altogether a story of self-realization and personal challenge. He journeys from being a universal orphan, wandering the streets of a strange, uncomfortable village, to becoming a hero of epic proportions, one who sails through skies and keeps company with celestial beings. No simple citizen of his ordinary English town could have foreseen such an awesome and unexpected transformation.
More than a birth of a hero, the movie Stardust is the story of crossing into maturity and self-sufficiency. Tristan's passage from simple boyhood to complex heroism is achieved through his experiencing who he really is and what he is truly capable of. With the help of those he encounters along his way, he surges across the hills, valleys, and skies of personal and spiritual evolution. By the end of the film, Tristan's wondering gaze at the heavens has been solidified into something much more determined and assured. Whether we gaze at the stars, or the stars gaze at us, heroes such as Tristan will always serve to keep our gaze steady and unwavering.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

The Peaceable Kingdom with Two Olives


This is currently my favorite piece of art, bar none. It's a bit of a tongue-in-cheek spoof of the traditional interpretation of the book of Isaiah done by Edward Hicks in the late 17th/early 18th century. I know it may seem a bit odd, but something about this piece just strikes me as fundamentally mythological. Perhaps it is that manner in which the artist takes a social message and makes it just whimsical enough to appeal to the masses? Who knows? Whatever the case, this sure appeals to me.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Why I Love Charity

Consider the archetype of the Trickster.

Well, anyone who was present at today's 'grueling' exam is quite aware of how fabulous certain traits of the trickster can be. Ahem. Most specifically, situation inversion is my new favorite thing. (Can I get an Amen?)

In conclusion, allow me to say....

YIPPEE!!!



Friday, April 1, 2011

Bob le Bricoleur

Oh my, I just had to share. We've been talking about the Trickster in class all week and noted that one of the 6 defining characteristics of the Trickster is that he is a bricoleur (a DIY kind of dude). I was curious about the word (a new bit of vocabulary for me), so I did a little research. Well, guess what happens when you do a google image search of the term?





The word is apparently just French for "builder". *gasp* Could Bob be a trickster? I mean, what if every handyman is? I recently took my car into the shop and I'm convinced that all mechanics are tricksters. ;)