tall poppy syndrome
Feb. 23rd, 2004 06:41 pmOn Heroes (a tribute to
elynross, who's not just for breakfast anymore)
E and K and T moderated the Heroes/Sidekicks panel at Escapade where we all tried very hard not to talk about Jeremiah. I no longer have that restriction, so hoist the sails and batten the hatches and so on, because Jeremiah is a very interesting example of the hero/peripheral character paradigm.
First, to catch up, as much for my own sake as anyone else's, the gals set off to investigave the phenomenon prevalent across fandom that leads a writer to gravitate toward the Spikes and Lexes and Blairs and Gabrielles of the world, and not the Clarks and Jims and Xenas. We took a poll, and seven folks in the room -- myself included -- were willing to admit to being hero aficionados (give me John J. Sheridan any day), while 22 fans raised their hands in defense of the sidekick/partner/anti-hero.
wickedwords -- the power behind You Big Bully!, this panel's seminal text -- pointed out that there's a tradition among fannish types to want to marginalize, and to be marginalized, so we gravitate toward marginalized characters (out of a sense of identification?), and, more importantly, we celebrate our love for marginalized characters because, you know, it's hot to root for the underdog. Personally, I wonder if it came as somewhat of a disappointment for these marginalized fans to learn that they were in the majority (22 vs. 7), since there's an attitude among fans (so many of us having been the odd girl out in elementary school or the bookish enigma in high school) that we're all odd and unusual fish -- but here we are in a pool of equally unusual fish, and we're just not so different anymore.
Now, of course, here I am, proud to be among the *7*, so, you know, I'm not immune. Already -- even in the panel, even while we discussed this -- you could feel that level of anti-competitiveness (or was I projecting?), of desire to be different, to be, again, marginalized.
On the other hand, I'm so far off-topic and here we are so many paragraphs into this thing and I wonder where I was going with this anyway. HEROES. Jeremiah. Right.
So our clever panel moderators pointed out that another tradition, hand-in-hand with sidekick-allegiance (where we're using "sidekick" to incorporate partners, villains, anti-heroes, Very Best Friends, and all the other secondary characters in our fandoms -- and this was a point we spent a good half hour defining and I'm not sure we got any closer than Elyn or Killa or T did when they proposed, and titled this panel in the first place, so, anyway, let's just stick a pin in that for now) comes this strange habit of hero-bashing in fandom. Clark gets shit from fans (for being, I don't know, bland, or commercial, or a cipher) that Lex never would; Duncan gets saddled with all that bias where Methos just gets hot hot love.
Which, sure, could be because there's a tradition in mediamaking that tends toward larger-than-life heroes, heroes without flaws or heroes who are less flawed -- have less room to make mistakes -- than their secondary characters do, because we need to use them as the moral center of the show. There's only so many times John J. Sheridan can walk into the President's office and be wrong (to half-assedly paraphrase The West Wing) before he's not the epic hero we want him to be. Same with Duncan, or Jim, or Buffy -- despite the requisitre season 3 "dark hero" arc where the hero inevitably turns to booze or goes to war or has some Red Kryptonite -- at the end of the day, we see 'em shot in soft light and we have to trust them, we believe them because they're the ones with the moral code and they're the reliable backbone of the series. Methos, or Mister Smith, or Krycek, no matter where we see them, still have the potential of being wrong. Of doing things for their own motives.
Blah blah sweeping generalizationcakes. But pretending it's not a sweeping generalization, there's definitely enough here that stands up to scrutiny, no?
So, me. 'Cause it's all about me.
I had a long discussion with
_maayan a few years back about John Sheridan vs. John Crichton as Epic Hero. Maayan was solidly a Crichton gal, and, while I admit easily that Crichton is the more complicated character, I found Sheridan a more seductive HERO. Call me sentimental. I like anything with a Destiny in -- you call anyone The One and I'm all over 'em like white on rice. I like my characters to have greatness thrust upon them, I like a fitful shouting "WHY ME! I never asked for this!" sort of "let this cup pass from me" type heroicism where, after a long dark night of the soul they know they have to lead their forces into battle and save mankind and rebuild the New World, or some similar romanticized business.
elynross said she gravitated toward this type of hero (correct me if I'm wrong?) because she was the righteous moral babe herself and she likes a hero with ethics. Me, I'm not so good. I drink and smoke and steal stuff. But I like the idea of redemption, and I fall deeply in lust with heroes who are better than me.
Which brings us, holy COW are we STILL talking about this?!, to Jeremiah. Killa pointed out that Jeremiah's unique because both Jeremiah and Markus share the role of Hero. They're both The One -- though I'd argue that Markus is, more so (see his own admission, to Kurdy, about strange attractors, "there are usually two," and you can *feel* the opposing forces of Markus and Daniel at work -- huh, though, I'll bet someone*ahem*Killa would say it's just as much Jeremiah vs. Daniel, or Jeremiah vs. Sims, who exemplify the cosmic dichotomy here) because he's the traditional Leader-type Hero, and my favorite sort, the reluctant-type hero who doesn't want this burden but is too brilliant and too gifted not to take it, who sits up long nights with the weight of the world in his hands, who lives in his head and inspires thousands, who writes like a poet but can't drive.
So when I watch Jeremiah, it might as well be a show called Markus, and I think I probably ascribe to Markus all those great Hero qualities I love so much because he's got the potential and I want to see him realize it. Even if only in my head. Which is exactly why he was so goddamned sexy in the dress uniform (despite the fact that, you know, he actually wasn't and really looks better in that t-shirt/thermal long sleeved combo I like so much) -- he rode in like the white knight, like a demented penguin in epaulets. Even at his most human, his most vulnerable -- relating to Erin like a *person* (a gay person, but that's SO another story) rather than like a superior officer, he still wore the uniform so we wouldn't forget this is Markus we're talking about, leader of the free world, the One.
Honestly? I could go on forever. This would not be good for any of us. So now's as good a time to shut up as any, and later I'll reread this and remember everything I left out.
Weigh in, won't you?
This has been a production of I Love Markus Alexander, subtitled Sab's A Big Dork.
Love,
me
E and K and T moderated the Heroes/Sidekicks panel at Escapade where we all tried very hard not to talk about Jeremiah. I no longer have that restriction, so hoist the sails and batten the hatches and so on, because Jeremiah is a very interesting example of the hero/peripheral character paradigm.
First, to catch up, as much for my own sake as anyone else's, the gals set off to investigave the phenomenon prevalent across fandom that leads a writer to gravitate toward the Spikes and Lexes and Blairs and Gabrielles of the world, and not the Clarks and Jims and Xenas. We took a poll, and seven folks in the room -- myself included -- were willing to admit to being hero aficionados (give me John J. Sheridan any day), while 22 fans raised their hands in defense of the sidekick/partner/anti-hero.
Now, of course, here I am, proud to be among the *7*, so, you know, I'm not immune. Already -- even in the panel, even while we discussed this -- you could feel that level of anti-competitiveness (or was I projecting?), of desire to be different, to be, again, marginalized.
On the other hand, I'm so far off-topic and here we are so many paragraphs into this thing and I wonder where I was going with this anyway. HEROES. Jeremiah. Right.
So our clever panel moderators pointed out that another tradition, hand-in-hand with sidekick-allegiance (where we're using "sidekick" to incorporate partners, villains, anti-heroes, Very Best Friends, and all the other secondary characters in our fandoms -- and this was a point we spent a good half hour defining and I'm not sure we got any closer than Elyn or Killa or T did when they proposed, and titled this panel in the first place, so, anyway, let's just stick a pin in that for now) comes this strange habit of hero-bashing in fandom. Clark gets shit from fans (for being, I don't know, bland, or commercial, or a cipher) that Lex never would; Duncan gets saddled with all that bias where Methos just gets hot hot love.
Which, sure, could be because there's a tradition in mediamaking that tends toward larger-than-life heroes, heroes without flaws or heroes who are less flawed -- have less room to make mistakes -- than their secondary characters do, because we need to use them as the moral center of the show. There's only so many times John J. Sheridan can walk into the President's office and be wrong (to half-assedly paraphrase The West Wing) before he's not the epic hero we want him to be. Same with Duncan, or Jim, or Buffy -- despite the requisitre season 3 "dark hero" arc where the hero inevitably turns to booze or goes to war or has some Red Kryptonite -- at the end of the day, we see 'em shot in soft light and we have to trust them, we believe them because they're the ones with the moral code and they're the reliable backbone of the series. Methos, or Mister Smith, or Krycek, no matter where we see them, still have the potential of being wrong. Of doing things for their own motives.
Blah blah sweeping generalizationcakes. But pretending it's not a sweeping generalization, there's definitely enough here that stands up to scrutiny, no?
So, me. 'Cause it's all about me.
I had a long discussion with
Which brings us, holy COW are we STILL talking about this?!, to Jeremiah. Killa pointed out that Jeremiah's unique because both Jeremiah and Markus share the role of Hero. They're both The One -- though I'd argue that Markus is, more so (see his own admission, to Kurdy, about strange attractors, "there are usually two," and you can *feel* the opposing forces of Markus and Daniel at work -- huh, though, I'll bet someone*ahem*Killa would say it's just as much Jeremiah vs. Daniel, or Jeremiah vs. Sims, who exemplify the cosmic dichotomy here) because he's the traditional Leader-type Hero, and my favorite sort, the reluctant-type hero who doesn't want this burden but is too brilliant and too gifted not to take it, who sits up long nights with the weight of the world in his hands, who lives in his head and inspires thousands, who writes like a poet but can't drive.
So when I watch Jeremiah, it might as well be a show called Markus, and I think I probably ascribe to Markus all those great Hero qualities I love so much because he's got the potential and I want to see him realize it. Even if only in my head. Which is exactly why he was so goddamned sexy in the dress uniform (despite the fact that, you know, he actually wasn't and really looks better in that t-shirt/thermal long sleeved combo I like so much) -- he rode in like the white knight, like a demented penguin in epaulets. Even at his most human, his most vulnerable -- relating to Erin like a *person* (a gay person, but that's SO another story) rather than like a superior officer, he still wore the uniform so we wouldn't forget this is Markus we're talking about, leader of the free world, the One.
Honestly? I could go on forever. This would not be good for any of us. So now's as good a time to shut up as any, and later I'll reread this and remember everything I left out.
Weigh in, won't you?
This has been a production of I Love Markus Alexander, subtitled Sab's A Big Dork.
Love,
me