American mythologist Joseph Campbell had the theory that all stories come from the same blueprint. That blueprint is called the Monomyth, and it serves as a broad template that a wide range of fiction uses. In the Monomyth (also known by some as the hero's cycle), a hero embarks on a journey, gets trained by a wizened elder, almost dies but gets reborn and eventually returns home victorious with some kind of gift with which to share with the rest of mankind. Some other things happen between those landmark events, but that's the gist. Sound familiar? It should.
"The Hunger Games" hits all the marks. Katniss finds herself forced out of her town by the Games, finds training from the grizzled Haymitch, almost dies a couple of times over the course of the novel but emotionally takes a major hit after the death of Rue and eventually emerges victorious to bring back to her people hope and the spirit of rebellion.
That's sort of interesting, that Suzanne Collins drew on the Monomyth blueprint either on purpose or subconsciously and found some massive popularity. I say "sort of interesting" because, I guess by definition of the Monomyth, this idea has existed and been popular for ages. Just look at the last couple decades of entertainment: we've had "The Matrix," "The Lord of the Rings" and "Star Wars" spin the Monomyth into box-office gold. The "Harry Potter" franchise launched Scholastic's book fair empire.
So the question: why aren't we all tired of the Monomyth by now? It's the same reason John Peel never got tired of The Fall, even after they released 30 albums from the same blueprint. The Monomyth is always different; the Monomyth is always the same.
Here's my theory on why things get popular. Every once in a while, something comes along that's just similar enough to stuff we've already seen that we can easily recognize and enjoy it, but just different enough to be interesting and unique without being alienating. "Star Wars" did this well. It didn't really bring any wild new ideas to the sci-fi/fantasy table, so we could all enjoy it pretty easily. But in its brilliant editing, great special effects and massive budget, it brought a level of polish at the time unseen among space operas. It was the same story that we all already liked, but a couple innovations made it appear completely new.
"The Hunger Games" harkens back to Greek myth. As I've previously argued, the general rise and fall of the narrative doesn't do anything too new, but that's good; people can easily process it and enjoy it. But it updates that narrative for the 21st century by introducing elements of reality television. That's the twist that makes "The Hunger Games" seem completely fresh and visionary, when it facts it's a very well-executed and crowd-pleasing version of a story we've seen for thousands of years.
The point Bryan makes here, about every story being different but the same, makes me angry and amuses me at the same time. I hate it because I fall in line with all of the people who enjoy stories like The Hunger Games and Star Wars because they’re easily recognizable and don’t take a lot of thought to enjoy, and I find myself wishing it weren’t that way – I wish stories were all just different, period. But alas, that cannot be, and that’s also why I love this point. It brings to light how, despite our differences and our barriers, we all fall in love with the same story over and over again, and we can all connect in that way. Even in The Hunger Games, for 74 years, the country of Panem watches the same thing happen over and over, with just a little bit of twist every time. 24 tributes go in, one comes out. The people in the Capitol are definitely still interested each year, and it’s because they know what to expect, but are simultaneously kept on their toes. And like the people of the Capitol, we like to know what we’re getting ourselves into, with a touch of innovation here or there. Anything too drastically different, and we will shy away from it, think of it as too foreign, too strange, too new. We can’t help it; we like familiarity because it’s, well, familiar.
ReplyDeleteWhile I agree with the two that familiarity is a factor in the appeal of the Monomyth, I also have to forward the idea that the Monomyth is not simply an archetype of stories, but the basis of most worthwhile stories. Of the four steps of the Monomyth, two of them almost seem necessary: the first and last. With no embarking on a journey, there is no story. If the hero doesn't succeed in some worthwhile manner, the story becomes defeating, even depressing. Then the other two, they form the archetype of human betterment and progress, of learning from someone with experience and facing then overcoming danger. Without learning, characters become static and boring. Without danger, a journey seems uninteresting and easy. Untouchable, perfect characters, as we discussed with Beth in Little Women, are boring. People want struggle and people like reading about victories against difficulty. The Monomyth, more than outlining an overly specific genre, instead forms the backbone of all stories of progress and hardship.
ReplyDeleteAs for variety and the Hunger Games, I feel like these stories succeed based on more what is different than what is similar with the Monomyth. Small distortions on the Monomyth, such as Katniss' selfless volunteering for her involvement in the games, rather than a forced conscription or completely voluntary choice, adds a new dimension to the 'journey'. We are interested because it's a mixture of the traditional individualistic, idealistic selflessness but not to the point of idyllic fairy tale-esque naivete as a motivation for her journey. Similarly, by making Haymitch a somewhat unappealing character rather than a perfect wise elder, he becomes far more interesting than the generic wizened dispenser of experience and knowledge. The harsh nature of growth, experience, and victory for Katniss also is what draws readers in; many of us do not read the Hunger Games due to the resolution or the idea that everything will be okay, but rather because of the exciting conflicts and quandaries found within these books. So while I agree that the Monomyth fits the book quite well, I also think it is due to the distortions on this formula, rather than the familiarity alone, that we find this story so interesting.