Continuation of Searching for a Hero
Once again footsteps sound at the thick, oaken door, a deep and noble voice calling out her name, telling her to step back against the far wall. She does as advised, the battle still raging outside, the dying screams, the weapons; steel on steel through shields and chain mail. She closes her eyes, a battering ram hurtling toward the door. Then again and one more time, the door falling away, splitting in two. And as she opens her eyes, her hero stands before her! A nice story, isn’t it?
We all like a nice story and since the dawn of time, we have searched for heroes. From Superman to Batman and from Wonder Woman to Xena, the Princess Warrior, we have all rooted for the hero at one time or another. Heroes are a part of our lives, are intricately woven into the tapestry of humanity and it’s almost as if without them, we wouldn’t stand a chance. There could actually be something in that. I mean, we have a tendency to lose faith so quickly, to fall into the wretched clutches of despair, to feverishly lose sight of the good road ahead of us. After all, we are only human.
Thousands of years ago, our kind worshiped idols of bone, wood and stone. We believed in multiple gods, felt sure they would smite us down and torture our mortal souls, destroy our crops, send famines and pestilence if we refused to obey them or chose to ignore them. We went from a polytheistic society to a monotheistic one, began to place our faith in the hands of one god, the true God…of God. I am not saying we created God because we need a hero. My faith certainly wouldn’t permit me to entertain such a thought. I am simply saying that throughout history, we have searched an endless stream of heroes.
Some of us long to be a hero while others long to meet one. Some see movie stars as heroes, while others see rock and pop stars as heroes. I write books, create heroes. I create villains as well. I form stories and hope people will root for my fictitious hero, establish diabolical plots and hope people will hate my villain, thus root my hero even more. I am one of thousands of writers, just one writer in a long line of writers who have constantly pumped society with an endless stream of heroes.
My question though, is what is a hero?
Maybe I am just lucky, but I freely believe I live in a world of heroes. I like a good movie, like to follow the plot, to despise the bad guy and love the good guy. One of my favorite movies has to be The Green Mile. Written by the amazing, Stephen King, it is about a black man, played by Michael Clarke Duncan, who is on Death Row, accused of child murder and rape. What we don’t know from the very beginning is that Duncan’s character, John Coffey is totally innocent. Not only that, but he is endowed with a wonderful gift. The sheer size of this man is quite overwhelming, although it’s his soft and gentle nature within the movie that attracted me. In a way, he was a failed hero, tried with all his being to put life back into the two little girls. It was too late though, they were already dead. He did save other lives though, and when he was asked to explain his power, he simply replied he ‘took it back’.
That’s it for today, back in a couple of days with part three of my thoughts on Searching for a Hero.
Bye for now