Unlikely Fathers and Friendly Neighborhood Heroes: "Surrogate Fathers" and "With Great Power..." Continued

       Last month, I posted an old reflection on the role of the "surrogate father" figure in hero origin stories, and I promised a continuation.  Meanwhile, last summer, in preparation for the debut of the newest big-screen incarnation of Spider-Man, I shared my thoughts on the central moral of the character, the degree to which the past movies have effectively captured it, and my hopes for this current effort.  It seemed fitting to follow-up with sharing some observations regarding the current depiction of the character in both Captain America: Civil War and the brand new Spider-Man: Homecoming.  Well, it seems that these two follow-ups were meant to converge, as hopefully will become clear by the time I reach the intersection point.

       First of all, let us conclude the journey of the "surrogate father" figure.  Now, we have already established the role of this surrogate father character, upon whom the origin story quite often hinges.  The Surrogate Father is with the hero at a key point in the hero's growth, teaches a valuable lesson, which becomes a paradigm for both the character and the story itself and finally his death usually occasions a turning point and awakening of the hero.  We also established that considering his role in the story helps us to appreciate, not only his own role, but it points directly toward the hero, whose rise is the very purpose of both his teaching and his sacrifice.  So, the next step is to consider further the task and the goal of the hero.

So now, to take it to a new level, I would like to mention a final example, from a very different genre, but where I noticed this very same formula, namely the 2002 film version of The Count of Monte Cristo.  Following the formula almost to a “T”, the character of Abbe Faria, intriguingly called in the movie simply ‘priest,’ plays the role of the surrogate father, who teaches the hero, Edmond Dantes, the lessons – and also equips him with resources – that enable him to become The Count of Monte Cristo, and then lays down his life so that Edmond can escape.  This dialogue might be said to sum up his lesson: Priest: “Do not commit the crime for which you now serve the sentence.  God said ‘Vengeance is Mine.’”  Dantes: “I do not believe in God.” Priest: “It does not matter.  He believes in you.”  But, the reason this example is significant is that the hero’s long transformation, after overcoming a great deal of brokenness and obsession with revenge, finally reaches its culmination, when the hero himself becomes… a father.  Now, naturally, in the book, not only is there a far more complex, intricate and interesting plot-line, but this point comes home differently.  In the movie, Edmond’s fatherhood is due to a biological son, conceived out of wedlock.  In the book, Edmond is never said to be the biological father – in fact, there is a great line in the early chapters, when another character describes Mercedes by saying that there is often not much difference between a fiancé and a mistress, and Edmond resolutely responds, “Not for me, sir.”  Rather, after a long trial of overcoming his obsession with vengeance, Edmond becomes more a mentor and sort of surrogate father to her son, and another young character or two in the book.

So, what is the point?

It points us toward the ultimate goal of the hero: The hero, too, is to become a father.  He is to be life-giving, like his (surrogate) father before him.  An essential part of fatherhood is to be for the child, preparing them to father/mother a new generation... and so, the Ancient Story: Salvation History goes on.  Each hero and each surrogate father is to recognize that they are a part of something so much bigger than themselves.  And likewise, we must recognize that we are part of something so much bigger than ourselves. Sometimes this happens before he is really ready.  Yet, how ready can one really expect to be, for so great a responsibility?

So, why is this a relevant starting point for the follow-up to the commentary on the different variations of the Spider-Man story and his central moral?  Well, one of the most interesting aspects about the current MCU version of the character is the way he is introduced from the perspective of a VERY different mentor/quasi-father figure (who was one of the rising heroes of the original "Surrogate Fathers" reflection, shared last month): Tony Stark.  He is quite an incomplete hero, to say the least.  In fact, his most recent appearances in movies find him so broken by his own vices and scarred by past experiences, that he almost seems to play the part of the villain.  But, it was always my hope to comment on how well the current version is doing in capturing that central moral.  Well, it seems that the description of the moral - when Stark asks Parker why he's doing this and what's his M.O. - is as much a reflection on Stark as it is on Parker.  I'll come back to that point.

It started back in Iron Man 3, that we began to see Stark shifting roles to mentor a representative of what could be the next generation of heroes.  Admittedly, it was not the best example and he passed on at least as many of his vices as virtues.  Furthermore, it began strictly as a relationship of utility - not unlike his enlisting Parker in Civil War.  But, in both cases, we begin to see at least seeds of something more.

We also see his growing desire to influence the next generation in his granting funding indiscriminately to a host of young innovators at the beginning of Civil War.  What I have found so fascinating about this odd little part in the movie - and I've always wondered about what the intentions of the film makers might have actually been - is how he is here practicing the exact same reckless and dangerous granting of power without accountability that he quickly begins criticizing the whole rest of the movie - and in a way that is perhaps more relevant to the real life societal concerns of moviegoers, at least the attentive and thoughtful ones anyway.  Ironically, with Spider-Man's central moral - "With great power comes great responsibility" - in mind, he is granting great power with very little thought of responsibility.  When you then consider how this reflects the central conflict that the movie focuses on, it becomes clear how the controversy over accountability and oversight is precisely a concern for the great responsibility that is called for by great power.  In this way, this movie becomes the perfect time to first introduce a brand new incarnation of Spider-Man (I might have been happier if his role in the movie was a little greater, but alas) - because the story was essentially one grand reflection on his central moral, but from a quite different perspective.  

But, then we come to the moment when that moral is finally expressed in Civil War.  Admittedly, after I saw how Parker explains his motivation and gave it some thought, my initial reaction was one of disappointment.  At that point, it really does fall short in the same way as the Andrew Garfield version (explained here).  However, it benefits for a few reasons from its context.  First of all, we are hearing it from the mouth of Parker himself (not from Uncle Ben or some other mentor figure, from whom he may have learned it), who is portrayed as being very young and still having a lot to learn.  He is portrayed almost as a scared child.  This is the lesson as he is currently able to process it and there is great potential for them to portray him learning the more complete lesson overtime.  And since they are doing so - prudently - without rehashing his origin story for a third time, I think they could do this very satisfyingly without ever showing or telling what Uncle Ben may or may not have actually said to him (presuming this version does involve Uncle Ben, and frankly I would rather have had just a bit more indication that he did exist in the backstory and was important to Peter).  

Even more significant, however, is the thoughtful look Stark gives in hearing him explain his moral, intentionally shown to us on camera.  The inclusion of that description of Parker's own understanding of his moral is every bit as much about how it relates to Tony as it is about characterizing Parker.  The problem is it makes sense from the perspective of the young Parker with so much still to learn.  Unfortunately, his mentor here is a man whose failure to mature beyond this understanding is precisely what has become his downfall on multiple occasions.  

Maturity sees the difference between the great responsibility that comes with great power and a messiah complex.  Stark does not.  And Parker is not there yet either, but this makes more sense given his youth.  Iron Man 3 was essentially all about Tony trying to overcome his own fear and obsession, as he is plagued by PTSD, after the "Battle of New York" (The Avengers).  Just when it seems that his love of Pepper was capable of enabling him to overcome, S.H.I.E.L.D. falls, and the Avengers reassemble to clean up the remnants of Hydra and find Loki's scepter.  When he finds it, Wanda gives him this vision that he is convinced is the future and its message is simple: everybody dies because Stark didn't do enough to save them.  Thus, his fear and obsession next lead him to create Ultron, the villain who is the real reason he is in need of being kept in check (by the way, I think Civil War would have been a much stronger movie if it would have indicated this as one of the larger factors in the controversy surrounding the accords).  Then, that same fear and obsession, aggravated by guilt and shame cause him to be manipulated into tearing the Avengers apart with the accords (not trying to oversimplify the controversy - check this out if you want a deeper reflection on the brother vs brother dynamic).  When we hear Peter Parker explaining his motivation we get the sense that this is a young man who has seen a great deal of tragedy in a short time and is struggling beneath some of the same sort of inner turmoil: "When you can do the things I can do and you don't, and then bad stuff happens, it happens because of you."  It is as if Peter Parker is being recreated in Tony Stark's image.  This starts to seem even more true with the significant role of Stark (and his tech) in Homecoming.  Furthermore, we will see the reflection of this problem, as he is anxious about feeling like he "can do so much more," only to come full circle with a lesson of humility, resulting in his "coming home" to his original role as the "friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

So, what is the difference between the responsibility that power demands and a messiah complex?  In one word: Narcissism.  When we allow our guilt and shame over not doing enough to grow into fear and obsession, we make it all about us.  We honestly start to think that the weight of saving the world is on our shoulders alone.  Parker is not at that point yet.  Perhaps seeing this young reflection of his own brokenness could enable Stark to move out of his own mess, as he seeks to rescue the youth from what has plagued him so much of his life.    

Responsibility, on the other hand, invites us to recognize that we are a part of something so much bigger than ourselves: the Ancient Story of Salvation History, which has gone on for generation after generation, the True Hero of which has already won the Victory.  When we recognize the power, the gifts, the talents that we have as making us a part of a larger design, we can put them at its service and write a fascinating and glorious new chapter in the Story.  The idea of rebooting the character in the midst of a well-developed universe of heroes and learning from more experienced Avengers right out the gate enables him to demonstrate this sense of being a part something greater.  Interestingly, his primary mentor is the one who still so desperately needs to learn those lessons himself.  But, it creates very interesting possibilities for future installments, especially as Peter starts to interact more with the others.

It is also interesting to note how this younger portrayal of Parker shows him as consistently seeking the affirmation of a father-figure, for which he looks to Stark.  We saw this first in Civil War.  But, in Homecoming, we see it expressed mostly in the form of frustration with feeling sidelined, culminating in the moment when he finally starts yelling at Stark about never listening and not even being there... only to learn that he is indeed there and has been listening.  This whole interaction leads to a lesson of how humility is a necessary foundation for establishing integrity: "If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it!"  This is a hopeful moment, as we begin to see Stark passing on to young Parker the lessons he has been learning the hard way.  This enables Parker to finally learn that lesson of humility, which is not the same as his original, "classic" moral, but is an important element of it.  Responsibility grows out of integrity, which grows out of humility.  All three require realizing it's not all about us.     

   
So, in summary, those of us who are fans of the 90's Spider-Man and its early 2000's film adaptations, who see the value in having his classic moral explicitly spelled out will have to simply reconcile with a portrayal of Spider-Man that includes little to no reference to Uncle Ben.  And that is certainly a loss.  However, there is still a lot of good that can come, and is coming from watching a younger Parker gradually learn the lessons that will help him to become the hero he ought to be, as he is thrust into an existing world of heroes.  And we are given an interesting dynamic by the fact that they have chosen to substitute in the character the MCU has put perhaps the most effort into characterizing as his surrogate father figure.  And because this broken father figure is the paradigm for ongoing conversion and his struggles so well parallel some of the lessons Parker needs to learn, the Tom Holland Spider-Man offers us a very interesting unfolding of his growth.  Perhaps the most important line in the movie summarizes this dynamic.  When Parker and Stark are arguing on the rooftop, Parker tells him, "I just wanted to be like you," and Stark quite fittingly replies, "And I wanted you to be better."  When we find ourselves in a position to influence others and potentially impact the person they grow to become, we must simply, humbly acknowledge our brokenness, be willing to pass on those lessons we continue to learn the hard way and even to hope for them a greater good than we have yet achieved on our own.   We must will their good, even over our own.  In short, we must love. 

Previous Thoughts on the Avengers

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Your Origin Story: The Farewell of a Surrogate Father

As this is the time of year, in my home diocese and in many places, when many spiritual fathers are preparing for a transition, and with Father's Day being just around the corner, I have the desire at this time to share this reflection on the role of Surrogate Fatherhood in modern movies, which was part of my farewell, upon leaving my first parish, three years ago.  Some parts are more personal and specific to its original setting.  Some of these parts have been adjusted accordingly.  Others have been left as they were, as I think they can be applied to the experience of other people/priests/parishes as well.

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       As if I haven't explained enough about why I consider these reflections on elements of truth, goodness and beauty in pop culture are relevant, let me share yet another perspective.  Why choose this as my final lesson, final message?  Well, that should be clear by the time I’m finished if not somewhat already.  But, first why do this at all?  Why use pop culture, such as movies, to talk about the truths of the Gospel.  Is it just a personal interest of mine.  Sure, it is that.  But, it is also more than that.  Especially as we begin the summer, often with more time for recreation, I encourage you to be open to recognize meaning in all things.  Don’t partition your lives, bracketing off moments in your life that don’t have to have anything to do with your identity as a child of God and as a Catholic.  It won’t rob you of the enjoyment of things like movies to consider meaning, to recognize elements of truth, and also to be mindful of ways that it contains false messages, so as not to be swayed.  Rather, it will not only help you to choose well where you look for entertainment and recreation, but it can also help you appreciate them more… and they may even become helpful to you in life in some small way, if you learn to approach it with a discerning and critical mind.  For more on this, see the Seven Principles, which I have already shared.  But, today, I would like to start with a different approach.   
       

       The first step toward what I would call a 'spirituality of story' comes from realizing that the Resurrection has made the whole world new. The Resurrection is the climax of the greatest story every told  - which happens to be a true story - and has been influencing stories for so long that one need not intend to create a story that reflects the Resurrection anymore, but simply to follow classic, traditions of story telling, and end up giving us a glimpse of the Resurrection.  Consider the Road to Emmaus (a Resurrection story). On Easter Sunday, we meet two men who have heard stories of old, foretelling a Hero, a Savior, a Messiah, a King.  They thought they found Him, but the story did not unfold as they thought.  At the point of confusion and a hint of despair, the Hero Himself comes to them and explains the point of the story.  Beginning with the Old Covenant, there is one story still unfolding, all leading up to the Paschal Mystery (suffering, death, and Resurrection of Christ), the Climax of the story.  They begin to understand, and they finally recognize Him in the breaking of the bread.  Then, they begin to recognize where the story, still unfolding in their midst, is leading them.  They turn around and go back to Jerusalem, to share the Good News, and take up the mission. 

       Great Catholic and/or otherwise Christian story tellers like C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien have reflected on the reality of the "True Myth," known as Christianity, which has influenced story tellers  throughout the generations.  The stories we tell, then, grasp at this One, True, Great Story and carry glimmers of it.  For this reason, if we look at patterns and traditions that exist within story telling, we are likely to find echoes or shades of the One, True, Great Story toward which they are striving after.

       One such example is the formula for a type of character, which I call the surrogate father, found in hero stories (including, but not limited to, those often called "The Hero's Journey"). Now, it is important to understand that the idea of there being such a tried and true formula is not a bad thing.  Quite the contrary, there is something very Catholic, and also very human, about working within a tradition.  The question still remains, though, what will the story tellers do with that formula?  How will they use it?  That is where creativity comes into play.

       When we take a closer look at this formula, we see that these hero stories often hinge upon this. “surrogate father."  The Surrogate Father 1) Is with the hero at a key point in the hero's growth, 2) Teaches a valuable lesson, which becomes a paradigm for both the character and  the story and finally 3) His death usually occasions a turning point and “awakening” of the hero.  Let's look at a few examples from recent popular hero movies (incidentally, all Marvel, which was not intentional, but it worked out that way).
       

       First, we have Dr. Abraham Erskine, the German scientist who helps Steve Rogers transform into Captain America.  Ever more important than the formula which brings about the physical transformation, is the lesson he gives him the night before the operation.  He begins with the contrast of the strong man lusting after more power, who is easily corrupted.  Then, he continues, "A weak man knows the value of strength.  And he knows compassion.."  So, no matter what happens, "Stay who you are; not a perfect soldier, but a good man."  This lesson proves to be central, not only to Cap's origin story, but to his whole character as the story evolves (more on that here).     

       Next, we move to one of the most important (depending on which version we're talking about): Ben Parker - Spiderman's uncle.  (At the time of this original presentation in 2014), we now have a couple big screen versions to pull from here.  And as some of you are aware (especially if you read this), I have a bit of a bias toward the older Tobey Maguire movies, directed by Sam Raimi.  But, after re-watching The Amazing Spiderman, and then watching the second one with some of (my parish volunteers), I’m willing to say, they definitely both have their merit, especially as the Andrew Garfield Spiderman takes up the mission of being a symbol of hope for others.  They were doing some nice things with that.  I enjoyed the second one more than I thought I would.  But, if you will allow me, I would propose to you that this one aspect which I am focusing on here is much better in the older Tobey Maguire films, and the simple message that Uncle Ben passes on is, not only truer to the classic message, but is a much better, more complete and greatly needed message… 

On one hand, you have (Maguire's) Uncle Ben giving the classic line: "With great power come great responsibility."  On the other, you have the new one (Garfield's), saying: "He who has the ability to do something good should do that good thing that he has the ability to do" ... or something like that.  What’s the difference?  The newer message, besides sounding more awkward and less eloquent, also only focuses on the power to do good.   And you see some very good, sometimes moving examples of the Andrew Garfield Peter Parker displaying that goodness, sticking up for the little guy, the moving scene where he rescues the child from the burning car hanging beneath the bridge, etc.  But, if we have the power to do good, then we also have the power to do evil, and this is an important part of where the responsibility comes in.  That same responsibility that obligates him to do good, also obligates him to avoid evil, to avoid sin, and to avoid occasions to sin, including avoiding putting those he cares about in harm’s way.  And you see him struggling with this, mainly with his relationship with Gwen, as he chooses between his selfish desire for this relationship and his promise to her father, and ultimately, he fails in this regard, simply because Gwen doesn’t want him to do the responsible thing.  But, that is irresponsible.  Now, Gwen’s a strong young woman, and becomes a genuinely inspiring character in the second movie.  I can appreciate that, and I do.  But, ultimately, neither of the two are very mature and not always making responsible decisions.  And this is consistent with how most of our culture views morality today: just focus on doing good things, be a “good person” whatever that is, but don’t worry about sin, whose to say what sin is anyway; that’s judgmental (that’s not judgmental; Scripture teaches us that we must discern right from wrong; judging the conscience of the person and condemning them is judgmental, but acknowledging what is sinful, that is necessary for a Christian).  Now, I’m not telling you not to enjoy those movies – like I said, I can appreciate the good elements of them, and I was delightfully surprised by the second one overall.  But, just as we should be inspired by the goodness of our heroes, we should also be able to recognize which behaviors we should not imitate.  So, in a nutshell, don’t sneak into your girlfriend’s bedroom – in fact, stay out of there; that’s an important part of respecting her – and don’t make out on rooftops, or atop high bridges (that’s emotionally, spiritually, and physically dangerous).  And we far too easily take for granted that romances in movies are bound to be shallow and impure.  But, the truth is this should be very important to us because purity is an essential part of that call to heroism – to holiness and heroic virtue – that we experience in our own lives.  And for men, in particular, to defend the dignity of woman and uphold her purity, not making irresponsible decisions that put you both in occasions to sin, is an important aspect of embracing your call as a man of true, genuine Godly strength.  So, with great power comes great responsibility.       

       So, a fitting follow-up is the surrogate father of a hero that is a paradigm for ongoing conversion.  While the Iron Man movies do have some content and so I advise mature audiences only, it is essential to the story that we should get the point that the immoral behavior that he is frequently falling back into is not healthy and is standing in the way of him completely growing into the hero he is made to be.  So, it’s fitting that the surrogate father of his origin story, Yinsen, tells him, as he lays down his life so that Tony can escape, “This was always the plan… Don’t waste it.  Don’t waste your life.”

       So, what do all of these surrogate father-figures have in common?  It is that the crowning of their fatherhood is… Not the lessons learned, but in his passing out of the hero’s life.  The call of a surrogate father is one of laying down our lives for our "children" so that they can become the heroes.  In the priesthood, we live as spiritual fathers and we understand that this is what we’re signing on for.  There is an analogous correlation between this "surrogate fatherhood" and the spiritual fatherhood we are called to live out as priests.  We look to the example of Saint Paul and his companions in the New Testament and we see them moving from place to place quite frequently, just as Christ Himself often did.  So, we understand what we're getting ourselves into... passing in and out of the lives of our children... yet, standing in the place of the Father.  It is not a relationship of attachment or a cult of personality, but a total gift of self for the sake of our spiritual children.  Consider the words of Christ: "I will not leave you orphans," He tells them just before He goes to His death.  Yet, His death leads to Resurrection and His Ascension will prepare the way for the Spirit to come upon them and remain with them. 

       So, I echo the words of Yinsen, as he passed out of the life of the hero: “This was always the plan.  Don’t waste it.”  If I have had any positive impact on you in (my time with you), then God be praised.  I am humbled and grateful to have been His instrument.  But, if that is the case… don’t waste it.  Don’t stop now.  Otherwise, it will all be in vain… as priests, we pour ourselves into trying to build up others as disciples of Christ and as leaders on that path of discipleship.  And we can only scratch the surface. But, if only people knew - especially young people - how you lead us closer to Jesus Christ, even by your presence, by your willingness to give Christ and His Church these precious moments of your lives, and by your openness to what He might be calling you to… your willingness to give Him your whole lives... how you can inspire your peers in ways you may never even realize… and help them on the journey.  So, I beg you.  Don’t stop now.  “This was always the plan.   Don’t waste it.”  Because…  this is your origin story, not mine.  If I am the surrogate father, then you are the hero.  Heroism is a vocation, a calling from God, to heroism, to holiness, to be an agent of the Kingdom, a servant of Victory, a Light in the darkness.  When we understand the story, we can understand our role, hear the call, and embrace it.

To Be Continued...

Previous Thoughts on the Avengers

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Who Is The Antihero 2017: Guardians Edition

       Once upon a time, the A-Team showed us that a team of anti-heroes can really be quite entertaining, and maybe even contain the occasional dash of inspiration.  A few years ago, the Guardians of Galaxy showed us they can do the same thing in space, even when that team includes a talking raccoon and a walking tree.  Now, I do truly love genuine heroes and I believe we need more of them.  Nonetheless I find good human stories of antiheroes to be both valuable and intriguing.

       Several years back, I wrote the following reflection on the topic... admittedly, I may have had a little too much fun naming the different categories. With the return of this team of anti-heroes, it seems the fitting time to revisit that fun little study of the antihero, considering where the Guardians themselves fall.  Perhaps the most striking thing about this ridiculous cast of characters is precisely how ridiculous and broken they are.  This is primarily played as comedic relief, albeit in sometimes far too crude of a manner.  Yet, it also becomes an opportunity to show the collision of various types of human (even though none of the characters are completely human) brokenness around a unified purpose that pulls them outside of themselves and cause them to devote themselves to something bigger and greater.  This becomes the irony of the title itself, as the most unlikely group become guardians to the whole galaxy.

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       Who is the antihero?  Perhaps if I had a background in Literature, I would reproduce a standard definition for you.  But, if you wanted that, there's always Wikipedia.  Starting from the basic experience of those of us who simply like good stories, the question is not easy to answer.  This is because the identity of the antihero remains so very ambiguous, amorphous, and perhaps even bipolar.  If one looks for examples, he will likely notice that, as well as being relatively undefined, the antihero is also varying in kind.  A working general definition which I would propose for the antihero is one who does not fit the mold of the hero, flirts with the line between good and evil, yet ends up serving the good much of the time.  I will identify four types (with two sub-types) that fit this definition, as well as some examples.  A number of my choices for examples were my own, while others were made at the recommendation of others more familiar with certain stories.  While there is no limit to the genres in which the antihero can be found, many of my examples are drawn from adventure stories, especially those that appeal to the young and the young at heart.  Besides my own familiarity with them, this is fitting because it is very pastorally relevant.  After all, what father does not wish for his children to have good heroes?  What father does not wish to be his child’s hero?  At the end I hope to, at least implicitly, approach the question of who is the antihero and why are we attracted to him?  Is he a villain?  Or is he just like you?  Or is he both?  And what does that say about you?

            The first type of antihero which I recognize is the quasi-converted villain who easily slips into his or her old ways.  Examples of this sort may be Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean), Michael Corleone (The Godfather), Catwoman (Batman), Sabretooth (X-Men), and possibly even Gollum (Lord of the Rings)...  From among the Guardians, or related characters, this is where Yondu falls and perhaps Nebula in the near future.

            The second type is the “idiot” who is indifferent or apathetic of standards, ideals, and systems of morality, goodness, and heroism, yet holds fast to high, often noble, ideals.  While often found serving the good, not being socialized, the idiot is characterized by “finding his or her own way,” often acting and living as a lone ranger or at least not readily adapting to community.  In this way, this type is very common in our radically individualistic culture.  In adventure stories, this is often the image of a hero who operates outside of the law or does not do things “by the book.”  Examples of this are Han Solo (Star Wars), James Bond, The A-Team, Jack Bauer (24), Wolverine (X-Men), and more recent depictions of Batman... Let's look at the sub-categories to see if we can find examples among the Guardians.

            A sub-category of the idiot is the seductor/seductress, who uses charm or physical sexual attraction as the preferred means of manipulating others to achieve the intended end.  Examples of this would be Templeton “Faceman” Peck (The A-Team), Mystique (X-Men), and some Bond women... Not sure if there is really a Guardian in this category, but we'll see what characters still have yet to enter the scene. 

            A second sub-category of the idiot is the dirtbag.  This one is simply morally reprehensible, even if he is found serving the good.  In a culture that has largely lost hold of moral truth, this one is very common.  Typically, the dirtbag’s biggest character flaw is selfishness, from which all else flows.  However, I will note that the dirtbag has some power to grow beyond this problem by seeking basic human ideals such as selflessness.  Examples of the dirtbag would be Iron Man (Marvel Comics/Avengers), Gregory House (House), John Hancock (Hancock), and maybe Martin Riggs (Lethal Weapon)... Our Guardian dirtbag is Star-Lord, but perhaps also Rocket.  

            The third category is the “forever changed,” who has been manipulated by some outside intervention (usually evil) and forever after, acting out of his or her own brokenness, often deviates from the good. Examples are Archangel (X-Men), Jason Bourne (Bourne Identity), Harry Osborn (Spiderman) and debatably George Lonegan (Hereafter)... The clearest example of the "forever changed" is probably Gamora, but this category probably also fits Rocket, to some degree.

            The fourth and final category is the obsessed.  Most often the object of the obsession is revenge.  Examples of this would be Bryan Mills (Taken), The Punisher (Marvel Comics), The Mercer Brothers (Four Brothers), and Thomas Craven (Edge of Darkness)... Clearly, the obsessed Guardian is Drax.  On that note, I am especially intrigued by Rocket's response to Drax, after he foolishly calls Ronan (the villain of the first movie, who Drax is determined to kill).  After Groot is shocked by Rocket's mock-crying, he continues, "I don't care if it's mean. We all got dead people.  It's no excuse to get everybody else dead along the way!"  This really resonates with my response to the popularity of 'the obsessed' in our culture.

         The starting point for my thoughts on the antihero was the observation of how incredibly common this sort of antihero is becoming, particularly in film.  I had grown sick and tired of revenge movies that ultimately amount to one man (or woman) obsessively seeking revenge on another and destroying anyone in their way.  It seems that audiences have lost a true sense of justice as an ideal.  This makes sense, considering justice hinges on objective morality and absolute truth, which are seldom valued or even believed in.  Man has experienced evil and longs for justice, but has abandoned its foundation.  Revenge is what remains.

            At last, this matter touches on the basic relevance of the antihero.  It seems that there has been a post-modern shift toward the antihero as the one to whom we are to look, rather than a source of conflict and contrast with the true hero.  Along with absolute truth and objective morality, the classical image of the hero has been largely lost.  I propose that this tragedy is connected to a loss of faith in the Incarnation.  Without this faith, we grow tired of the classical image of the hero, so bold and so pure.  Failing to recognize that the Bold and the Pure has become human, we turn toward what we more readily identify as human: brokenness, woundedness, fallenness.

Saint Paul: A Real Life Hero Who Better Reflects the Model

Ultimately, Christ is the model of every hero, as every true hero is to be an image of Christ.  Perhaps it is still Christ Himself whom we wish to know and conceive of in the shift toward the antihero.  We are posed with a problem.   How does one conceive of a King of peace who comes to bring the sword and to bring fire upon the earth?  Perhaps in the longing of the human heart to portray this Mystery Incarnate, he ends up falling back on himself, projecting his own darkness and brokenness and yet also his deepest yearnings for victory (on the part of the ideals he holds as good).  Seeking to portray Christ, we wind up in ourselves, dim reflections of the image of God that we are.  We love ourselves and we hate ourselves.  We wish to love Christ, but we do not understand Christ.  Still, we identify with Him in the realm of mystery.  From this dynamic, the antihero is born.

We love the antihero because he best reflects our culture, lost in our desperate search for the Truth we have abandoned, the Truth which we fear.  In the spirit of the transformation of culture, an important part of the New Evangelization, I propose that we may find hope in seeking out instances where an antihero, with whom many identify, grows and evolves into true heroism, to which all should aspire, because I believe this is the story of the redemption of the post-modern world.  Perhaps, even for those who are not artists ourselves, this inspiration can be offered to any artists we may find in our parishes, social circles, etc.  I think Guardians of the Galaxy is not a bad start at becoming this sort of story.  We'll see where it ends up.

I will close this reflection by considering the example of (one of my favorite antiheroes from my childhood and, I must admit, even present day) Archangel in X-Factor 53.  Archangel battles, and is practically defeated by, the villain Caliban, who is now under the power of the same villain, Apocalypse, that once bound Archangel, and who stills holds influence over his deadly, razor-sharp wings.  When asked by a policeman who or what Caliban was, Archangel answers: “What I would be… were I to follow the dictates… of my wings.”  His awareness of the fact that his wings could be his undoing may remind us of the figure of Icharus.  Hopefully, it also makes us consider the basic Catholic moral principle that we must consider not only what we can do, but what we ought to do. 

       For me, this image of an antihero fighting the evil to which he knows he is vulnerable calls to mind the final nuance I would like to add to my definition of the anti-hero.  He does not fit the mold of the hero, but he has what it takes.  He is a potential hero (though he may even be called a villain for a time).  With this in mind, I finally dare to answer the question of who is the antihero… I am.  And I suppose you are too. 

More on the Guardians of the Galaxy

We're Not What You Think: X-Men and Learning to Encounter Each Other

       We are indeed living in a world with an urgent need to learn to listen and encounter each other.  I never would have guessed, however, that we could find a particular help in this crucial task in the film incarnations of my favorite superhero extravaganza of my childhood.

       There are few franchise stories I have been more invested in since my childhood then the X-Men.  While I was never as satisfied with any of the movies as I would have liked - and let's be honest, it's hard to satisfy someone with that much expectation - each one of the movies has still provided me with a healthy dose of gleeful nostalgia, as well as the usual fodder for thought.  A notable exception to this trend might be found in the latest installment, which brought the side story of Logan (Wolverine) to a conclusion. It's not my purpose to dwell on this movie, so I will suffice to say that it had many worthwhile elements and really have could have been a very good movie, if the makers had not felt it necessary to fill it with R-rated content, which was tastelessly excessive and made it difficult to watch. I advise great caution before choosing to see it, and if you do choose to do so, please don't bring children!

       It has always been the case, with each of these movies, that they have offered me much to like, and a good deal to not like so much. Yet, there was a period of time when these movies were almost ruined for me completely.  That period began the first time someone pointed out to me how the original trilogy of movies had been used to drive an agenda and how deeply embedded into them it seems like that agenda is, at times.  The more I took a second look at them, the more I realized how true it was.  So much so that it was almost impossible not to see it when I watched them, after it was pointed out.  And then, after taking a large step back, I began to take small steps forward again... and I began to realize that these movies have a lot to say to us about what it means to learn to listen and to encounter each other, even when we disagree... or perhaps especially when we disagree.

       Having recently rewatched a few of these movies, I was reminded how much I love X-Men: Days of Future Past (with the exception of a few significant shortcomings, as usual).  By offering a glimpse into the future of this fictional world, which parallels our own in its emphasis on the destructive potential of discrimination, that story in particular enabled them to drive home the themes running through the movies in an especially powerful way.  And let me be clear about the point I am trying to make about these themes.  The central anti-discrimination themes, which have driven the X-Men story since its earliest days, are both good and necessary.  It is likely the case that some of the creators of these stories over the years and I would have to disagree on how we interpret and apply them and/or some of the solutions we might propose.  But, the essential themes themselves are not only something I support, but for which I am very grateful.  Days of Future Past drives this all home in a very potent way, as it not only asks the question of whether humans and mutants could learn to live in peace, but whether two old friends who had become enemies could learn to work together, "side by side in a time when we couldn't be further apart."  The question that Charles Xavier asks in the opening monologue is indeed an important one: "Is the future truly set?" I would say that this question prompts a few follow-up questions, especially this: Can we learn to truly encounter one another?

       These questions cause me to reconsider the scene from the first X-Men movie, which was always so striking to me since the movie first was released.  It was the moment when Senator Kelly, who had previously promoted an alarmingly discriminatory measure called the Mutant Registration Act, is upon his deathbed.  After being abducted by the villains, he is dependent on the help of other mutants (Charles Xavier and his X-Men) to help him, as he dies from the effects of the experimentation done on him.  He discovers in Xavier and the others that mutants are not all threats, but can also be caring and compassionate and can seek to serve others.  It is at this point, that Xavier leans in dramatically and tells him, very simply: "We're not what you think... not all of us."  The beauty I find within this scene is the beauty of a moment when two people begin to see one another.  Or at least one finally sees the other.  But, why can it not be both?  In the movie, it is more a matter of one person who has been failing to see the other, finally encountering the benevolence of the other.  However, in reality, it seems to me that, in most human disagreements, there is need for both parties to begin to see each other.  There is a need to encounter, to learn to listen, and to understand.

       This is really the vision that has inspired the approach, and even the title, of this blog.  It has always been my aim, in paying close attention to elements of meaning, themes and symbolism in pop culture, to learn to listen to the heart of the culture, for the sake of facilitating a dialogue with the Heart of God.  Close attention to pop culture is meant as a way of listening to the heart of the culture, which is meant as a sort of "practice," if you will, in learning to listen to the heart of man.  Truthfully, I am actually quite hesitant to identity who might be the "two parties" most engaged by the themes at hand and how they are being utilized, as this would inevitably become a gross over-simplification, which would perpetuate the already present obstacles to truly encountering one another.  Caricaturing human interaction into a simple "us" and "them" model will always only serve to keep us divided.  This is not a battle between "liberal and conservative," "republican and democrat," "atheists and Christians," or any other labels which can be used to narrow our view of the complexity of reality.  It is simply a matter of learning to encounter one another.  We will never learn to encounter human persons if we persist in the belief that a human person can be essentially defined by his or her views or even lifestyle choices.  Of course, our identity in Christ is something so much more than views or lifestyle choices (for more on that, maybe check this one out).

Okay, So maybe Iceman probably
wasn't thinking of Daniel 3 during
his transformation in X-Men 3.
But, it'd be cooler if he were.

       However, it does seem helpful to my purpose here to identity two ways in which the words of Xavier to Kelly could be applied.  The first is the perspective which was first presented to me, after the first trilogy was completed, which caused the period when these movies were, for a time, nearly ruined for me.  Once again, it is important to remember that the X-Men story has always been one of anti-discrimination, which is a very positive thing.  In hindsight, it makes sense that, in our current cultural setting, they would become a tool for presenting the perspective of a group that currently receives a lot of attention as being victims of discrimination, namely those who identity as homosexual (or perhaps more broadly as LGBTQ).  Let's be clear, one of the reasons these persons consider themselves discriminated against is because they have been.  And to anyone who has been treated unjustly by anyone who represents Christ or His Church in their eyes, please accept my apologies and know that this is actually strictly condemned by the Catholic Church (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2358).  It is also the case, however, that some of what is perceived as discrimination involves a great deal of misunderstanding.  Meanwhile, I initially found the realization of this parallel within the movies to be quite shocking (I was pretty young and immature at the time).  This observation began to effect how I viewed the whole series, as sometimes the references are not that subtle, in the language employed and the images presented.  At the same time, they also reflect an often over-simplified perspective of those who do not support the homosexual lifestyle, or the view of sexuality in general that underlies it.  For example, the whole debate of the proposal of a "cure" to mutation, which arises first in X-Men 3 and is alluded to in a number of other ways throughout the series, reflects a particular response to the homosexual lifestyle, which would NOT be adopted by all Christians, and certainly not by most Catholics who have a proper understanding of their faith.  The way that we view this matter is far more nuanced than simply proposing a "cure," because it is rooted in the beauty, goodness and dignity of the human person as well as the complexity of the human condition.  {P.S.  Many of the same language and images are used in some of the same ways, by the way, in how Marvel's Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. has portrayed the discrimination against the Inhumans, which also holds a bit more nuance than it might at first seem and really could prompt a whole analysis of its own.}

       Meanwhile, one of the details that deserves careful attention, however, if we are to determine what perspective is actually being promoted, if any, is the question of what is being said by the hero and what is being said by the villain.  Thus, I eventually began to notice that some of the less subtle references to slogans that seem to represent an "agenda" seemed to be coming from the villains.  For example, while "mutant and proud" apparently has some roots with Xavier himself, it also is quickly adopted by Mystique, whose desire to be truly committed to this claim leads her down a much darker path.  In fact, the way the slogan is used throughout the movies seems to invite the viewers to question what the implications of such a claim should actually be.  As another example, it is Magneto that seems to be the one who is most boldly beckoning his fellow mutants to "come out."  But again, especially in light of scenes like the one in X-Men 2, which looks very much like a "coming out" scene (at Bobby Drake's home), there seems to be some interesting reflection on what we mean by these things and how we should understand them.  Meanwhile, the dialogue between Xavier and Mystique just before the final act of X-Men: First Class is very telling.  It seems that the hero is precisely the one who is not trying to push an agenda, but who just wants to live in peace.  Yet, one can understand how his approach seems to be simply hiding, and the response of Magneto and Mystique that they should not have to hide certainly holds an element of truth, again, depending on how we understand it.  And this is precisely what is so striking about this series.  It has always been, not just about different sides promoting different agendas.  It is about brothers who have become enemies, but refuse to give up hope in each other (and it is interesting to note how the second trilogy, known as the "Beginnings Trilogy" introduced a new element of Mystique being the "sister," who is torn between them and who has real potential to become a hero).

       So, the desire to understand one another has always been central to these movies.  Now, it should be noted that this aspect could be used to promote relativism (the idea that there is no moral right or wrong, but simply two opposing viewpoints), which should be cautioned against.  But, I do not think this is necessarily the only interpretation.  I think, before getting all up in arms about another perceived agenda, we ought to first stop and listen.  At the most basic level, what is portrayed here is the need for us to encounter one another, to set aside our preconceived notions and discover the beautiful and complex person who is before us for who he or she is, not defined by their views or even decisions.  Furthermore, we see the need to not give up hope in one another, but to believe that it is possible to live in peace.  This thought brings me full circle to the second possible application, which I wanted to mention, of Xavier's words to Kelly in the first movie.  I love these words because I have long desired to say them to all who think that Catholics, or Christians in general, or even those who may be more conservative, hate them.  "We're not what you think... not all of us."  There is such an urgent need to lay aside that tired, old rhetoric that the Church's teachings on sexuality are grounded in hate, and stop and actually learn to listen.  This accusation of hate is, not only grounded in misunderstanding, it is also a dangerous obstacle, which shuts down actual dialogue and encounter.  At the same time, there is also need to acknowledge that some who have (miss-)respresented the Church have contributed to this misunderstanding, and that their behavior is unacceptable.  But, that is not the essence of who we are.

       Furthermore, since X-Men has never been just about one "group," but about anti-discrimination in general, it makes sense that the origins of the story would contain allusions or glimmers of various groups throughout history, who have suffered persecution.  Anyone who studies U.S. history in a truly complete manner cannot fail to notice and acknowledge that one of these groups is Catholics, especially in our nation.  If one looks a little more closely they might be interested to discover the story of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, the only Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence, who was instrumental in helping to form the foundations of our national understanding of religious liberty.  One might find it interesting to notice that he was educated in an underground school, which was established because he belonged to a group that was not being permitted to educate their own (Catholics).  This school was founded by Jesuits, whose most famous missionary was the great Francis Xavier (a name which simply means savior).  I am not suggesting that Charles Xavier is simply a fictional parallel of this fascinating figure, who is often hidden within our nation's history.  Nor am I making any presumptions on the intentions of the author(s), if indeed he provided any inspiration in the creation of the character.  But, the parallels seem enough to be worthy of notice, and when I first learned about the school where he was educated in an American Church History course, I was tempted to ask if there was a jet hidden underneath the basketball court.

       It seems to me, then, that there is a need for all of us, whatever our faith, worldview, lifestyle decisions, or whatever, to learn to encounter one another.  We all need to have the right to say to one another, "We're not what you think... not all of us."  Maybe it does not necessarily require those words, but it's not a bad way to start.  We need to begin to sit down, to see and hear one another.  To my fellow Catholics, this doesn't have to mean compromising our convictions, because those same convictions are grounded in the insistence that every human person possesses infinite goodness, beauty and dignity.  We must be unafraid to meet people in order to really see this goodness, beauty and dignity alive within them.  And to anyone who disagrees with the teachings of the Church, or feels hated by the Church, please forgive us wherever we have failed and give us an opportunity to show you the love for which you were made.  May we all learn to listen, to see, and to encounter, so that we may learn to love.  

More on X-Men>>> 

The Hunger Games: Reflections of a Spiritual Father for the Evangelization of Culture (Guest Blogger, Archived Post)

What follows is a review of The Hunger Games (the book series, more so than the movies) written in 2010 by the first guest blogger on Learning to Listen..., Fr. John-Mary Bowlin.

Father John-Mary Bowlin is a priest of the holy and venerable Diocese of Tyler in Texas.  He is currently pastor of St. Kateri Tekakwitha in Buffalo.  When he isn't saving souls, he enjoys SciFi, Fantasy, Superheroes and LEGO.  While in seminary, he was one of the founders of the pop culture symposium.

While dedicating myself to seminary formation, I must read recreationally far less than I would normally like.  However, I had the great joy of reading Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games  (HG) this past summer and Catching Fire (CF) and Mockingjay (M) during my recent mid-term break.  Although I do not have the luxury of time to delve into a deep, substantial review, I can share some thoughts on the trilogy.  Caveat:  I have not done any research regarding the author, her religious beliefs (if any) or philosophy.  My reactions are based completely on what could possibly be read within the pages and the effects that may have on the audience.

            As a spiritual father, I understand that it is never “just a story”.  Never.  Every person in the world has a philosophy, whether one knows it or not.  And that philosophy appears in what they write.  What a reader reads may be a misinterpretation of what the author intended, and so it is not wise, without receiving confirmation directly from the author, to attribute an absolute position to an author based solely on their writing.  The fact remains, however, that an author may have a philosophy which is not correct or the reader may interpret an incorrect philosophy which they may then assimilate.  It is the duty of parents (biological as well as spiritual) to read with their wards as much as possible, as they are responsible for their upbringing.  While The Hunger Games may have a particular intended audience, let’s face it, target audiences don’t mean much any more, especially if one looks at phenomena like Harry Potter, which is read by those far younger than JK Rowling probably intended and far older than Scholastic was marketing to.

            For those who do not know The Hunger Games, the premise is as follows:

It’s the same story every year.  He [the Major of District 12] tells of the history of Panem, a country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America.  He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained.  The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens.  Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol.  Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated.  The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games.

            The rules of the Hunger Games are simple.  In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate.  The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland.  Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death.  The last tribute standing wins. (HG18)

            The novels follow the story of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from District 12.

Political / Social Commentary

The Hunger Games is, in addition to being a well-written story, a social and political commentary of the Western World and, specifically, America.  It is clear even before the second book, that what Collins is using as a basis for her critique is how much our contemporary society reflects the ancient Roman situation of Panem et Circenses.  It is alluded to in passing in Catching Fire, after Katniss and Peeta are introduced to the Capitol’s practice of vomiting repeatedly at parties: “‘Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,’ I say.  ‘Really, this is nothing by comparison.’”(CF80)  The blatant comparison is made in Mockingjay by Plutarch Heavensbee:

“But the significant difference between [District] Thirteen and the Capitol are the expectations of the populace.  Thirteen was used to hardship, whereas in the Capitol, all they’ve known is Panem et Circenses. […] It’s a saying from thousands of years ago, written in a language called Latin about a place called Rome,” he explains […] “The writer was saying that in return for full bellies and entertainment, his people had given up their political responsibilities and therefore their power.” (M223)

            Collins does not do much, even before this revelation, of hiding the fact that she is comparing her “fictional” reality to the decadence of ancient Rome.  Most of the Capitol names are Latin and the name of the President is Coriolanus Snow[1] (M171).  A description by one of the characters about Capitol citizens includes “tales of strange sexual appetites, betrayals of the heart, bottomless greed and bloody power plays.” (M126)

The Hunger Games

A boy and girl tribute from each of the Capital of Panem’s 12 out-lying districts are exacted every year in order to fight to the death in a massive outdoor arena.  Not only are they pitted against each other, but the arena itself is rigged in order to torture the players, often with ghastly traps.  The victor never escapes unscathed, physically or psychologically.  The rest of their lives is spent being manipulated by the Capitol.  While never wanting in food or physical comfort, they waste away psychologically, awaiting death.  It is horrible.  Many characters lament how pitiable it is that the children of the country are treated this way.

            And then we look at our own country.  We tolerate (or, God have mercy, agitate for) laws which allow millions of babies a year to be killed in their mother’s wombs.  They are torn apart or poisoned and disposed of.  It is horrible.  Isn’t it?

            At some point, Collins has Katniss say: “They can design dream weapons that come to life in my hands, but they will never again brainwash me into the necessity of using them.  I no longer feel any allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despite being one myself. […] Because something is significantly wrong with a creature that sacrifices its children to settle its differences.” (M377)  While Katniss is speaking about war, this statement could very easily be extended to say “something significantly wrong with a creature that sacrifices its children so they can have the careers and lifestyle that they want.”

Food

The most dramatic element of social commentary however, is regarding food and how we take it for granted.  My parents always insisted that I clean my plate so as not to waste food.  I appreciate being raised that way.  It makes me angry whenever I see food thrown away – not because there is any way to send that (sometimes) small portion of food to the poor child in Africa who is actually starving to death, but because if one only takes what one is going to eat, less is prepared.  If less is prepared, then more is available for distribution.  Then the only thing we have to worry about is the warlords and local gang leaders (not to mention government red tape) which prevent the food from being distributed to those in need.

            For so many Westerners, especially Americans, who take their blessings for granted, these books should be a wake-up call.  Whether one sees in the well-fed Capitol citizens of Panem America itself (against third world countries) or merely the upper and middle classes of American (against the lower class), the point remains: we waste food.  We take food for granted.  We live comfortably, while many cannot live.

            This tendency to waste is possibly the most disturbing to me because even the abomination that is legalized abortion, while being absolutely evil, stems from our society’s self-centeredness, the wasting of food being merely one of the most predominant symptoms.

What must it be like, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button?  How would I spend the hours  I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?  What do they do all day, these people in the Capitol, besides decorating their bodies and waiting around for a new shipment of tributes to roll in and die for their entertainment? (HG65)

            “You mean, this will make me puke?” […]

           “Of course, so you can keep eating…Everybody does it, or how else would you have any fun at a feast?”

            I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. (CF79)

They are not used to want, so any little disruption in supply makes an impact on them. (CF165)

Political Action

Every nation has the government it deserves.

-Joseph de Maistre (Letters to X, 1811)

The Hunger Games is definitely a political critique, although not necessarily of a particular administration or political party.  Again, Collins is quite clear:

Frankly, our ancestors don’t seem much to brag about.  I mean, look at the state they left us in, with the wars and the broken planet.  Clearly, they didn’t care about what would happen to the people who came after them.  But this republic idea sounds like an improvement over our current government. (M84)

           Even from the beginnings of the trilogy, political action is advocated.  Katniss, reacting to her friend Gale, thinks “what good is yelling at the Capitol in the middle of the woods?” (HG14)  This is set against the strict policies of the Capitol, which punishes contrary opinions harshly.  Traitors who are not tortured to death are turned into “Avoxes”, having their tongues cut so that they many not speak.  This false patriotism is reinforced in that all broadcasts from the Capitol and all events surrounding the Hunger Games are accompanied by the playing of the national anthem.

            The political state of affairs in Panem is the result of complacency.  Gale tells Katniss at one point that “Actually, the whole country just sat by and watched.” to which Katniss replies, “Well, that’s what they do best.” (M222)  The same can be seen today, lamentably.[2]  How often does the vote of a particular representative of the people not actually represent what the people want?  So often, the full belly and continual entertainment placates the populace.  It is not, however, usually out of malice.  Katniss, commenting on a physical punishment inflicted on the team that prepares her for her public appearances at the Games, that “It’s more complicated than that.  I know them.  They’re not evil or cruel.  They’re not even smart.  Hurting them, it’s like hurting children.  They don’t see…I mean, they don’t know…” (M53)  If there is moral culpability for any of us, it is not for malice, most likely, but for not knowing (or worse, not caring[3]) that lack of political action allows those who should not be in power be in power.

            As Christians, we have an obligation to participate in the political process.  Some good reading from the Church on the subject:

·         Sapientiae Christinae (On Christians as Citizens) Encyclical of Pope Leo XIII (10 January AD1890)

·         Doctrinal Note on some questions regarding the Participation of Catholics in Political Life from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (22 November AD2002)

·         Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (14 November AD2007)

Morality

As I expressed early on, my concern as a spiritual father is that those in my care are not imbibing bad philosophy or theology from the fiction they read.  Audiences, especially younger but also older, can be susceptible to what they read; to use Collins’ own phrase, “words unnoticed, unchecked” (CF144) can start revolutions, either in Panem or in the minds of readers.  Because Collins is dealing with such important subjects, it is important that she does so well.

Human Dignity

Collins understands that humans have an inherent dignity.  “A sense of the dignity of the human person has been impressing itself more and more deeply on the consciousness of contemporary man” begins the Declaration on Religious Freedom (Dignitatis Humanae) of the Second Vatican Council.[4]  It is clear that one’s anthropology[5] informs one’s ethics.[6]  The proper treatment of humans (and even a cat and goat) are treated extensively in the Hunger Games.

            Katniss muses “I guess there isn’t a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being.” (M186)  While I hope that this is a sarcastic statement, it is important to understand that it is not true that there is no book.  While there may not be a manual that covers every possible situation, the Church’s moral theology provides very clear guidance on how God’s Love is emulated in our dealings with our neighbor.  What follows are some observations on the morality of the books, especially as they might be interpreted by younger readers.

Abortion

The murder of unborn children is evil.  And yet we live in a society which does so constantly.  The value of having children seems to be overridden by any number of malicious or fearful motivations.  It is understandable, then, that I reacted to Katniss saying, “I never want to have kids.” (HG9) very early in the first book.

        At first, I was afraid that an impressionable reader, already inundated constantly by contraceptive propaganda, might see this as reinforcing a culture that is in many ways against having children.  I hope, then, that they did not miss the implications later in the second book, when Peeta attempts to gain sympathy from the Capitol audience by telling them that Katniss is pregnant and that he is the father.  Katniss comments that “even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can’t ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is.” (CF256)  Killing the unborn is horrific.

Tyrannicide

Recognizing the names of many of the characters of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, it should not be a surprise that there is an act of tyrannicide at the end of Mockingjay.  “The Council of Constance (1415) condemned as contrary to faith and morals the following proposition: ‘Any vassal or subject can lawfully and meritoriously kill, and ought to kill, any tyrant.  He may even, for this purpose, avail himself of ambushes, and wily expressions of affection or of adulation, notwithstanding any oath or pact imposed upon him by the tyrant, and without waiting for the sentence or order of any judge.’ (Session XV)”[7]  The basis of this decision is primarily on the proposition that tyrannicide may not be conducted by a private citizen independent of the lawfully appointed government.  The Church does not condemn the lawful execution of justice against an objective tyrant (whether by usurpation or by oppression), but it does hold that it must be done in accordance with the rightful law.  The situation in the Hunger Games is not one which St. Thomas Aquinas or any of the other Scholastics would have necessarily dealt with.  The fact that at the moment of the tyrannicide there is not necessarily a lawful government for Panem, means that Katniss cannot be considered purely as a “private citizen”, at least in the context of “private citizen” as opposed to “lawful government”.  In effect, all are private citizens and the self-appointed “President” of Panem has no more legal right to rule than Katniss or any other citizen.  As there is no government to carry out a sentence, it might be possible to see Katniss’ action as morally legitimate.  The dilemma is twofold: 1) the case is not clearly defined and 2) the ends do not justify the means.  Direct killing is rarely legitimate.  Because of these considerations, it would be important to discuss the implications of this scenario with a young reader, ensuring that they understand the latter point especially.

Moral Responsibility

A disturbing contemporary turn in the media is a repetition of the idea that one is responsible for the sufferings of another inflicted on others because of something that one does or does not do.  This is often seen in Smallville, where Clark is portrayed as a whiny adolescent for 10 seasons.  Katniss, who is more excusable because of the younger age throughout the books, suffers from the same angst.  “Could any good I do outweigh the damage?” (M13)  “I’ve brought down more horrors upon him.” (M116)  “And here I am again.  With people dying because of me.” (M307)  Certainly, one in Katniss’ position would feel guilty for what was happening.  But it is important to remember that the question is not how one feels but rather whether one is doing the right thing or not.  Doing the right thing, especially when it is difficult, is not necessarily going to feel right.  But our feelings are not a worthy gauge of many things.[8]

Ends & Means

Just as she is used as a pawn in the power games of the Capitol, Katniss becomes a pawn in the strategy of the leaders of the rebellion.[9]  She says that “I’m sick of people lying to me for my own good.  Because really it’s mostly for their own good.” (M118)  Her friend Gale tells her “I would sacrifice a few, yes, to take out the rest of them.” (M205)  Even Katniss says that “to present Peeta as a liar now would not help his image.  Or mine.  Or the cause.” (M90)  She goes so far as to commit euthanasia (see below).  This is using the principle of the ends justifying the means, which is contrary to Catholic moral theology.[10]  In an ironic twist, however, Collins then turns around and argues against this principle:

            “So, by taking them out, we prevented further attacks.” [Gale says.]

            “But that kind of thinking…you could turn into an argument for killing anyone at any time.  You could justify sending kids into the Huger Games to prevent the Districts from getting out of line,” I say.  (M222)

Euthanasia

According to Webster’s, euthanasia is “the act or practice of killing or permitting the death of hopelessly sick or injured individuals (as person or domestic animals) in a relatively painless way for reasons of mercy”.   For example, as one of the competitors in her first Hunger Games lies, being slowly gnawed at by mutations, Katniss shoots him.  “Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow flying into his skull.” (HG341)  Later, she thinks of the captured Peeta “I must find him, kill him now before the Capitol gets to choose the agonizing means of his death.” (CF383)  She thinks that the means of killing is justified because the end of ending suffering is good.

            The word “euthanasia” comes from the Greek for “happy death”.  It is strictly forbidden.

Whatever its motives and means, direct euthanasia consists in putting an end to the lives of handicapped, sick, or dying persons. It is morally unacceptable.

    Thus an act or omission which, of itself or by intention, causes death in order to eliminate suffering constitutes a murder gravely contrary to the dignity of the human person and to the respect due to the living God, his Creator. The error of judgment into which one can fall in good faith does not change the nature of this murderous act, which must always be forbidden and excluded.[11]

            It is interesting that in the third book, reflecting on her intention to spare Peeta suffering, Katniss considers “Didn’t I want to kill Peeta with that syringe to save him from the Capitol?  Was that really my only option?  Probably not, but I couldn’t think of another at the time.” (M126)  That would be because the only answer is Christ on the Cross.

Christianity & the Cross:

It is possible (indeed, to be effective as a parable, almost necessary) for a good story which carries a good moral to not contain any explicit religion. Tolkien, Rowling and Lewis have done so beautifully.  The Hunger Games attempts to do the same.  In this case, however, the religion, which is implicit but not apparent in the other authors’ works, is almost completely missing from The Hunger Games.  It is interesting to note, however, some allusions.  One of my favorite lines in the books is: “But what is a slingshot against a 220-pound male with a sword?”  The answer can be found in 1 Samuel 17.  I also find it interesting that Collins, while omitting the practice of religion, retains Sunday as the day off. (HG109)

            Unfortunately, these books are about, among many other things, suffering.  And suffering is difficult if not impossible to treat reasonably because there is no meaning in suffering if there is no Cross.  Katniss is willing to kill others and herself when she cannot see anything beyond immanent suffering.  If suffering does not have meaning, then she would be right.  Her murder of the champion who was being tortured and her desire to kill Peeta when she thought they had both been captured by the Capitol are because of compassion, which is from the Latin for “suffer with”.  She identified with their pain and wanted it to end.  Note the use of the qualifier of “hopelessly” in the definition of euthanasia above.  Suffering is not only efficacious because one can unite that suffering to the completely satisfying death of Christ on the Cross.[12]  The Cross brings with it the Resurrection.  There is always hope[13] for those who suffer just as there was always the hope of the Resurrection during the Crucifixion.  In a (fictional) world without the Cross, there can be no hope for suffering except in some artificial psychological exercise.  The conclusion to this trilogy saturated with suffering is:

 “I’ll tell them [Katniss’ two children] that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything, because I’m afraid it could be taken away.  That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do.  It’s like a game.  Repetitive.  Even a little tedious after more than twenty years.  But there are much worse games to play.” (M390)

            Sadly, this is the best that someone without faith can do.  While it works for a character in a book, it is not the way we look at life.  We see life through the lens of the Cross.  But that lens also lets us see something else: the resurrection to eternal Life.

Varia

A better writer would end this with a brilliant conclusion.  While I begrudgingly agree that as a writer, one must often omit that which does contribute directly to the substance of a work, I also know that a certain flexibility must be admitted, and so I offer the following “varia” in lieu of a conclusion:

·         “We will see how high and mighty he is when he’s faced with life and death.” (HG143)  This is certainly the case.  It is under pressure that the true man is manifested.

·         “At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead.” (CF118)  Amen!  In a world that is nauseously pacifistic, this is a refreshing attitude.

·         Like Rowling and Tolkien and so many other writers, names are not chosen at random.  As in reality, where our Creator is the only one who knows our true name (cf. Revelation 2: 17), a writer (who is a sub-creator) names their characters by their true names.  “Katniss” is a plant of the genus “Sagittaria”, which is Latin for the feminine “armed with bow and arrows”.  The name “Peeta” sounds like a play on “pita”, which is a Middle-Eastern bread (my favorite) (Peeta being the son of the District 12 baker).  As has been noted, many of the Capitol character names come from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar (which ties in well with the climactic tyrannicide).  One of the women from the district which produced textiles is named Twill (CF144) and the two former victors from the agricultural district are named Chaff (CF213) and Seeder (CF214).

·         In common usage, the phrase “begging the question” has very unfortunately become disassociated with the logical fallacy that traditionally bore that name. (CF163)  Petitio principia  “More commonly known as “begging the question”.  You assume what you set out to prove.  eg:  Descartes’ famous cogito ergo sum[14]

·         Collins has many good lines, including those which do not require evaluation in such a paper.  One such is: “I find myself in the position of having to console them [the prep team].  Since I’m the person going in to be slaughtered, this is somewhat annoying.” (CF204)

·         “Have these precautions been put into place because of the recent influx of immigrants? (M67)  Although it is not a major theme in the books, could this be an allusion to a situation we are dealing with in our country especially today?

·         “Dancing transforms us.  We teach the steps to the District 13 guests.”  The simple things in life ought to be cherished.

·         Referring to her life after winning her first Hunger Games, Katniss relates: “Your talent is the activity you take up since you don’t have to work either in school or your district’s industry.” (CF39)  This deserves more treatment that I can give it here, but our society does not have a good account of leisure activities.  A good read on the subject is Leisure: the Basis of Culture by Josef Pieper.

·         Our need to be constantly entertained: “The audience in the Capitol will be getting bored, claiming that these Games are verging on dullness. This is the one thing the Games must not do.” (HG173); with a reference to an American Idol-ish audience element: “Having voted, and probably bet on the winner, people are very interested in my wedding gown.” (CF170)

·         The lengths to which we will go to alter our appearance out of vanity: “They do surgery in the Capitol, to make people appear younger and thinner.” (HG124, cf M318, 319)

The views expressed herein are not necessarily those of the Catholic Diocese of Tyler (TX), Bishop Alvaro Corrada del Rio, S.J., or the Pontifical College Josephinum.

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[1] “Coriolanus” being the title of a Shakespearean tragedy about the Roman leader Gaius Marcius Coriolanus

[2] the most recent midterm elections being a notable exception

[3] otherwise known as “lukewarmness”, for which our Lord has strong words (cf. Revelation 3: 16)

[4] referring the reader to Pope John XXIII’s Encyclical letter Pacem in Terris and the Radio Message of Pope Pius XII (24 December AD2010)

[5] that is, the study of man

[6] Of note is a passing reference to this: “Not only does he hate me and want to kill me, he no longer believes I’m human.” (M186)  In order to make it easier to kill people, one must first devalue them.  That is why it is a “fetus” and not a baby.  A baby is a human, making abortion homicide.  “Terminating a pregnancy” becomes the removal of an unwanted growth.  The Nazis did the same thing with Priests, Nuns, the handicapped, homosexuals and the Jews.

[7] my emphasis added; Catholic Encyclopedia, Tyrannicide, found at: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/15108a.htm (5 November AD2010)

[8] which would actually seem to be something with which  Collins would agree, given how she portrays the soft, self-centered Capitol citizens

[9] “make me over, dress me, write my speeches, orchestrate my appearances – as if that doesn’t sound horribly familiar” (M11)

[10] cf. St. Thomas Aquinas’ Summa Theologiae I-II, 18, 4

[11] Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC), paragraph 2277

[12] Colossians 1: 24

[13] “hope” is used here in its more theological sense of “assurance of a future event” and not “wishful thinking”

[14] You set out to prove that there is an “I” to begin with, but you start out with the “I” in your premise – the “I” is understood in the sum, “I am”; from Peter Kreeft’s Socratic Logic, p. 94


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