Lang, Jeffrey S. & Patrick Trimble. �Whatever Happened To The Man Of Tomorrow? An Examination Of The American Monomyth And The Comic Book Superhero.� JofPC. 22:3 (Winter 1988).
Lang and Trimble lay out a timeline of the development of the superhero as an exemplar of the American monomyth. The conclusion is that the monomyth changes over time; it�s only �universal� at a given moment in history. On the face of it, that claim is both eminently logical and completely contradictory, but that paradox is, or at least should be, the point of any discussion of so-called �monomyths.�
I have read �around� the monomyth concept only, so these are preliminary thoughts, but the basic concept seems a little odd to me. Perhaps the oddness I sense is my own resistance to the Structuralist desire to find unity in cultural products, instead of a Post-Structuralist desire to display fragmentation, but the very idea that there�s just one myth that applies to everything seems silly, and though this paper uses the monomyth concept, I think it conceptually argues that that monomyth can�t exist, though it doesn�t come out and say it, as such.
The basic monomyth originates with Campbell�s Hero with a 1,000 Faces, which I haven�t read yet, but I�m familiar with the basic �heroes� journey� concept: separation, initiation, and return. The monomyth itself is supposedly so widely spread that we can apply it to any vaguely adventure-like story, in any culture, geographically or historically. However, Robert Jewett and Shelton Lawrence propose in The American Monomyth that the US has a different monomyth, which is slightly different from �the� monomyth.
The main difference, according to Lang and Trimble is �the difference between rites of initiation (the classical monomyth) and tales of redemption (the American monomyth). The American monomyth secularizes Judeo-Christian ideals by combining the selfless individual who sacrifices himself for others and the zealous crusader who destroys evil. This supersavior replaces the Christ figure [�]� (158), and Superman is a great example. The connection between Superman and Jesus, or perhaps a more generic Judaic messiah figure, is a matter of long-standing discussion. He descends from Heaven and uses his miraculous powers to save us from ourselves. He experiences a virgin birth from his space ship and is adopted by a pair of salt-of-the-Earth, mortal human beings. The Kryptonian name �Kal-El� even uses the Hebrew suffice �-el� meaning (roughly) �blessed� or �of Heaven� that is attached to the names of angels, like �Michael� or �Gabriel.�
The paper cites several connections between the American monomyth and the generic features of superheroes, and in this aspect it�s particularly useful. American monomythic heroes rise �from the masses into the light of individual success [and become] the beacon for others to follow� (159). Historically, they are typically �individuals struggling with the physical limitation of science and mechanization, their sleeves rolled up, confronting a difficulty that sat immediately before them� (159). They were �almost anti-intellectual� (159) and �relied on instincts� (159) instead of the technology that was rapidly overtaking faith in American culture. Jewett and Lawrence specifically note that they are �aided by fate� (qtd. in Lang and Trimble 158), which implies, logically, that they don�t employ complex, learned skills to defeat �evil,� and ar, instead, simply favoured by God.
Finally, their defeat of �evil� becomes a kind of redemption, what �Richard Slotkin calls [�] the myth of regeneration through violence [�] which originated in Puritan colonists� tales of Indian wars. Through killing the pagan Indians, the colonists made the frontier safer for virtuous white Christians� (166), and �depicted violence as the means both of cleansing the wilderness and regenerating true faith in the believing community� (Slotkin qtd. in Lang and Trimble 166). According to Lang and Trimble again, �The message was clear: as Americans, everyone has these innate characteristics and can also achieve social success� (159).
The most interesting aspect of the monomyth, though, is the implied conceptual work that has to have been done in order to arrive at it as a concept. The paper hints at this pre-textual thinking, but never comes out and says it, as such. It states that �Daniel Waldon writes that cultures choose heroes as an indication of their national character� (159). Just previous to that statement, the paper runs through the differences between the monomyth and the American monomyth, and concludes that �it is logical to assume the American monomythic hero is different from the heroes of other cultures� (158). I cannot read the minds of Lang and Trimble, of course, but all indications are that they�re unwittingly accurate in this set of statements. What I mean by that is simple but hard to describe.
Logically, there should be only one �monomyth.� That�s the point of the thing. It applies to all stories of a certain kind. However, the very existence of the proposed American version blows that universality to bits. If the American version is demonstrably different, then there�s really no such thing as a �monomyth� at all. We can resolve that contradiction fairly easily if we overhaul the whole concept and conclude, as Walden apparently does, that cultures have different kinds of hero characters. However, the combination of the universal and the nationally specific has its own kinds of illogical, but oddly accurate implications.
Essentially, the American monomyth claims both universality, through Campbell�s concept of it, and national and historical uniqueness at the same time. �I�m special and I�m universal,� the American monomyth claims, which is really nothing new in the history of Western thought. The faulty universal fills our philosophy, claiming that �everyone� has this or that �nature.� If that �nature� is, in fact, specific to one gender, one culture, one language, one mode of thought (like reason or rationalism), or one religion, for example, then the logical consequence is that anyone who does not share that nature also does not belong to the supposedly expansive category of �everyone.� If �male� is the faulty universal gender, then �female� is synonymous with �inhuman,� much like �pagan�, �pervert,� or �savage� is. Literally, those words denote �not Christian,� �not bound by sexual taboo,� and �not belonging to my culture,� respectively, but they connote inferiority.
It should come as no surprise, then, that the American mindset produces a theory of an �American monomyth� that valorises individualism, personal success through the intervention of fate, and the redemptive power of violence. It should also come as no surprise that this theorisation claims to be unique on the back of a supposedly universal theoretical concept, the monomyth. The American monomyth describes a narrative convention of uniqueness and exclusion, and also claims to be unique and exclusive. The theoretical construction of the myth reflects that which it mythologizes.
The rest of the paper is a lucid description of the changes that the American monomyth has undergone, specifically in Superhero narratives. They are initially icons who have �no sexual contact with mortals� (162) and live in repetitious, cyclical, serialised storytelling, making it �possible for the superhero to move from adventure to adventure without the restrictions of normal social relationships� (162). Characters like Superman and Captain America represent that formula perfectly. They receive their powers almost instantly and need to learn nothing new nor alter their strategy from one story to another. Punching the always-recognisable �bad guy� will do.
But when American culture changes, post-WWII, the heroes need to change, too. The Stan Lee/Marvel revolution produces superheroes who are filled with self-doubt, dislike violence, and who are often downright dysfunctional, like Spider-man or the Fantastic Four. Captain America is literally thawed from a block of ice that survived the war, and goes from �World War II Nazi fighter� to �na�ve stranger in a morally-ambiguous world.� The paper�s ultimate conclusion is that the American monomyth moves from a simple, static icon of universal values to a fluid, ambiguous hero who is willing to question his own morality (or even, presumably, to be a �she�!).
Lang and Trimble claim that �as the culture has grown and changed, the myth has changed� (169-170), which necessarily implies, perhaps a bit slyly on their parts, that there is no such thing as a �monomyth,� a universal hero�s cycle that represents eternal values. Instead, every heroic myth changes with the times in order to create the illusion of universality and immortality.
Posted by orion at April 24, 2006 5:36 PM