Heroes in pop culture
| by Shang Zuo Every boy dreams of being a hero. I used to read a lot of hero stories, Chinese wuxia novels and Japanese manga books, and watch American superhero movies. If you’re familiar with these genres, you know how different they are. These books and movies are not high art. They don’t require serious thinking. They’re just fun and exciting, and thus more widely accepted than serious literature and arts. So, where do heroes get their power? In a typical Chinese or Japanese story, heroes get their power through hard work. Kung Fu is not an innate ability. Some Kung Fu masters had extraordinary talent, some didn’t. Some were lucky to have great mentors, some were not. But most of them had to train very hard. Japanese manga stories often involve magic power. They also, however, had to constantly train very hard, even to a near-death experience, for example, in “Saint Seiya” and “Dragon Ball.” American heroes are different from Asian ones in this respect. Superman, X Men, Fantastic Four, Spider Man, Hulk, the Incredibles — they were born with super power or had some mysterious encounter that granted them super powers. Two exceptions are Batman, who actually had no super power, and Iron Man, who enhanced his body by himself; and both were born into incredibly wealthy and powerful families. Another type I’ve never seen in Asian stories is “the chosen one.” In Matrix, Neo is the chosen one. There is a prophecy for him to fulfill. Kung Fu Panda, despite the story set in China, is largely an American story. Of course, as an audience member, I know the leading character, no matter how unlikely they appear, will be a hero. But in a “chosen-one” story, the wisest people in the story — Morpheus and the Oracle in Matrix and Master Oogway in Kung Fu Panda — already knew the protagonist would become the final hero long before the hero actually did. Well, that’s very assuring to me. But I don’t like to accept that the panda Po succeeded because he was chosen and everything would be just right for him to win. I’d like to believe that Po became a great master because of his talent and effort rather than his fate, even though stressing his fate adds more drama effects to the story. Japanese stories are often about heroes’ ever growing power. Almost contrary to the “chosen-one” story type, these characters’ origins are sometimes unremarkable They rise to the top in ever escalating wars. In Dragon Ball, Goku is a low-rank warrior’s son with no remarkable background, a sharp contrast to his early enemy and later partner Vegeta, who is a prince. In Saint Seiya, the five leading roles are five orphans from Japan, China, and Russia who are trained to be the soldiers of Greek goddess Athena. They are belittled and ridiculed by their rival gods, though they use their strength and determination to defeat those gods. The second question is: what do the heroes do? They all fight with bad guys. That’s why they’re called heroes. American heroes usually fight for justice. Chinese heroes usually fight for their country and people. Japanese stories are sometimes vague in moral teaching; I don’t always recall what they were fighting for. In some stories, they’re simply fighting in a tournament, such as Yu Yu Hakusho. Their enemies look very bad. But I can’t really recall if they did terrible things or had an evil plan to take over the world or something. Maybe they did, but that’s not a big part of the story. Some American heroes have a special question: how do they deal with their power? Star Wars is largely the story of Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader, who is attracted and consumed by the dark side of the Force. In Spiderman 3, our hero is controlled by his own power. And because many heroes don’t get their power voluntarily, they have to learn how to live with their power and use their power in the right way. They’re wary of power itself. Many choose to live with two identities, serving the public without losing themselves, which is admirable. This theme is not applicable to Asian heroes, who mostly get the power through hard training and self awakening. It’s also in part because flying in a modern city will cause chaos, while swordplay in an ancient town in wuxia novels seems like totally acceptable social behavior, so living in two identities is not needed. The final question for our heroes is their ending. The ending is unexceptionally the heroes’ victory. Sometimes they die, but tragedies are not the mainstream of pop culture. Chinese heroes sometimes retreat to live a hermit’s life. This is not common in American or Japanese stories. I think this represents a Taoist root. Contrary to Confucians, Taoists view constraining power and leaving the masses as a sign of virtue, and returning to Nature is the ultimate freedom. To the Chinese, retreating is equal to “living happily ever after.” |
Shang Zuo's column
