Though I was in such a hurry with the previous posting that I ended up basically copying a bunch of the key quotes from my notes -- without much commentary from me -- into the LJ entry, here's the point that I was trying to make and didn't get around to:
What all those quotes were supposed to demonstrate is that yes, the authors' argument does seem to make a lot of sense in the way that they apply it to the original "Star Trek" series and portions of ST:TNG and "Voyager" (for instance, I never did see any "earthly" reason, apart from the obligatory marital/sexual renunciation pattern, or "Bonanza Syndrome," why Janeway couldn't formalize and consummate her relationship with Chakotay, instead of turning to Holodeck lovers or passing aliens for a bit of romantic intrigue). . . BUT they fail to convince me, ultimately. And even they acknowledged that there's something far more democratic and interesting going on in the fannish creative efforts that "poach" on the texts of the corporately owned T.V. series and movies:
p. 264 [authors' reflections on “textual poaching” as developed by Michel DeCerteau and applied by Henry Jenkins]: “There is a democratic potential in this process [of fanzine/fan-fic writing and other examples of fannish "participatory culture"] that seems much more promising than corporate control of mythic imagination. What remains unrecognized, however, is that the content of both the Star Trek series and its fan religion remain significantly indebted to the American monomyth—-with all of its narcissistic, violent, and undemocratic tendencies. This particular religion poaches from an already polluted stream that participatory activities have thus far done little to dispel. As in the case of all other religions, whether pop or traditional, there is an urgent need for critical examinations of Star Trek’s implications and its long-term effects on believers and their societies. But this can hardly occur when so many people continue to view fandom as nothing but an experience of consumption.”
I applaud their insistence that fandom needs to be taken seriously as a creative endeavor AND as a form of folk religion, as well as their insistence that ANY religion should be subject to critical examinations of its implications and long-term effects on believers and their societies.
But I think there's a good reason why, though their photo illustrations include a picture of the Deep Space Nine Companion (which I only recently took off my own shelf and read through), they really make no attempt to apply their theory to DS9 , which (after its first season) deliberately pushed the envelope of what kinds of stories and decisions and moral ambiguities and serious treeatments of religion and social criticism of the supposedly paradisical 24th century could be permitted in a series bearing the "Star Trek" label. They also make no reference whatsoever to the pop and fannish phenomena known as "Xena: Warrior Princess" (whose final episode would have aired in the Spring of the year they finished writing), "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" (whose fifth season would also have already aired before they made their final revisions), or "Angel" (whose second season would have aired before they went to print, and which shares only one word in its title in common with the "Touched by an Angel" series whose narcissistic, anti-democratic non-theology they so decry). Apparently, they had neither the time, the space, nor the desire to explore in depth the many ways that these phenomena might provide a positive alternative to the usual form of the "American monomyth".
And I could hardly fail to note that much of their research into Star Trek fandom (aside from frequent mentions of Jenkins' Textual Poachers and a quote from one essay in Deep Space and Sacred Ground) seemed to date back to the 1970's, relying most heavily on the book Star Trek Lives! for many examples. I found out in an "Afterword" hidden behind the 20 pages of end-notes in the back that this 2002 book DID contain large portions of a previous book one or both of them had published in the 1970's. They had apparently updated quite a lot, but not nearly enough when it comes to the fannish universe, in my view.
To answer a question posed by
willowgreen in response to my previous posting (asking what, if any, stories these authors WOULD approve of, and would anyone else likely find those stories the least bit interesting?), the authors of The Myth of the American Superhero do highlight several recent movies and a bunch of novels that -- in their view -- DO provide a well-balanced view of reality (that sometimes bad things happen to good people, and all you can do is decide how you're going to go on living in spite of that terrible thing that's undeservedly befallen you or your loved one, etc.) and DO support a participatory (as opposed to "spectator") view of democracy. Movies like "Straight Story" (the old man who drives his lawnmower halfway across the country in order to reconcile with his brother before it's too late), and "Dead Man Walking" (as well as the book by that title), and stories like the original Little House novels by Laura Ingalls Wilder, in which (unlike in the TV series) the Ingalls family did suffer failure and continual hardship, and lived in community with others rather than constantly saving the fallible and error-prone members of their community through their "domestic redeemer" powers.
In other words, they drew positive attention to stories in which people don't have all the answers or the super power to restore us to some mythical never-was Eden, but are honestly trying to make things better, anyhow.
Under that rubric, I would argue that BtVS and AtS and DS9, at the very least, qualify as 'The Good Stuff' -- no big win, and at the last it's not about 'saving the world' but rather changing the world, even if only by fighting a hopeless battle to show the Powers and Principalities of this age that human beings (super-powered and undead, or not) will not go gently into that good-night. Stories in which killing the person you love most in order to serve the greater good (as Kirk did with Edith Keeler, or Buffy had to do with Angel, and as Buffy refused to do with Dawn, Odo refused to do with Kira in "Children of Time," and Worf refused to do with Jadzia when she was dying in the jungle and duty demanded that he leave her) isn't as simple an ethical choice as some might think, and either way you choose you have to live longterm with the negative consequences. Stories in which sometimes a little divine intervention is needed and even deserved, when the heroes have done all they can and are at the end of their strength and endurance (Sisko convincing the Prophets to stop the Dominion fleet in the Wormhole, or the snowfall in "Amends", or Angel being able to enter Kate's apartment without an invitation in "Epiphany", etc.).
Anyway, you all get the idea, I hope.
What all those quotes were supposed to demonstrate is that yes, the authors' argument does seem to make a lot of sense in the way that they apply it to the original "Star Trek" series and portions of ST:TNG and "Voyager" (for instance, I never did see any "earthly" reason, apart from the obligatory marital/sexual renunciation pattern, or "Bonanza Syndrome," why Janeway couldn't formalize and consummate her relationship with Chakotay, instead of turning to Holodeck lovers or passing aliens for a bit of romantic intrigue). . . BUT they fail to convince me, ultimately. And even they acknowledged that there's something far more democratic and interesting going on in the fannish creative efforts that "poach" on the texts of the corporately owned T.V. series and movies:
p. 264 [authors' reflections on “textual poaching” as developed by Michel DeCerteau and applied by Henry Jenkins]: “There is a democratic potential in this process [of fanzine/fan-fic writing and other examples of fannish "participatory culture"] that seems much more promising than corporate control of mythic imagination. What remains unrecognized, however, is that the content of both the Star Trek series and its fan religion remain significantly indebted to the American monomyth—-with all of its narcissistic, violent, and undemocratic tendencies. This particular religion poaches from an already polluted stream that participatory activities have thus far done little to dispel. As in the case of all other religions, whether pop or traditional, there is an urgent need for critical examinations of Star Trek’s implications and its long-term effects on believers and their societies. But this can hardly occur when so many people continue to view fandom as nothing but an experience of consumption.”
I applaud their insistence that fandom needs to be taken seriously as a creative endeavor AND as a form of folk religion, as well as their insistence that ANY religion should be subject to critical examinations of its implications and long-term effects on believers and their societies.
But I think there's a good reason why, though their photo illustrations include a picture of the Deep Space Nine Companion (which I only recently took off my own shelf and read through), they really make no attempt to apply their theory to DS9 , which (after its first season) deliberately pushed the envelope of what kinds of stories and decisions and moral ambiguities and serious treeatments of religion and social criticism of the supposedly paradisical 24th century could be permitted in a series bearing the "Star Trek" label. They also make no reference whatsoever to the pop and fannish phenomena known as "Xena: Warrior Princess" (whose final episode would have aired in the Spring of the year they finished writing), "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" (whose fifth season would also have already aired before they made their final revisions), or "Angel" (whose second season would have aired before they went to print, and which shares only one word in its title in common with the "Touched by an Angel" series whose narcissistic, anti-democratic non-theology they so decry). Apparently, they had neither the time, the space, nor the desire to explore in depth the many ways that these phenomena might provide a positive alternative to the usual form of the "American monomyth".
And I could hardly fail to note that much of their research into Star Trek fandom (aside from frequent mentions of Jenkins' Textual Poachers and a quote from one essay in Deep Space and Sacred Ground) seemed to date back to the 1970's, relying most heavily on the book Star Trek Lives! for many examples. I found out in an "Afterword" hidden behind the 20 pages of end-notes in the back that this 2002 book DID contain large portions of a previous book one or both of them had published in the 1970's. They had apparently updated quite a lot, but not nearly enough when it comes to the fannish universe, in my view.
To answer a question posed by
In other words, they drew positive attention to stories in which people don't have all the answers or the super power to restore us to some mythical never-was Eden, but are honestly trying to make things better, anyhow.
Under that rubric, I would argue that BtVS and AtS and DS9, at the very least, qualify as 'The Good Stuff' -- no big win, and at the last it's not about 'saving the world' but rather changing the world, even if only by fighting a hopeless battle to show the Powers and Principalities of this age that human beings (super-powered and undead, or not) will not go gently into that good-night. Stories in which killing the person you love most in order to serve the greater good (as Kirk did with Edith Keeler, or Buffy had to do with Angel, and as Buffy refused to do with Dawn, Odo refused to do with Kira in "Children of Time," and Worf refused to do with Jadzia when she was dying in the jungle and duty demanded that he leave her) isn't as simple an ethical choice as some might think, and either way you choose you have to live longterm with the negative consequences. Stories in which sometimes a little divine intervention is needed and even deserved, when the heroes have done all they can and are at the end of their strength and endurance (Sisko convincing the Prophets to stop the Dominion fleet in the Wormhole, or the snowfall in "Amends", or Angel being able to enter Kate's apartment without an invitation in "Epiphany", etc.).
Anyway, you all get the idea, I hope.
(no subject)
I haven't read the book, of course, but it seems to me that the authors are saying here that any story that begins with what they call the "American monomyth" is inherently, unredeemably destructive, no matter where it leads. That "polluted stream" analogy, in particular, creeps me out.
I have a real problem with any theory that demonizes one particular myth, genre, or type of story. Personally, I find Buffy, Angel, and DS9 far more satisfying than old Superman reruns. Still, there's something satisfying about the old-fashioned, infallible superhero. I can see the pitfalls of over-identifying with that particular story (one of them is in the White House right now), but I have a hard time believing that all that literature is inherently bad for us, in every incarnation.
(no subject)
Yes, I'm disturbed by the parallels the authors draw between the original Star Wars movie (particularly the anti-intellectual-just-trust-your-feelings-rather-than-facts implications of the "Force" and the possible depiction of the Jedi as a hereditary ruling class) and the rhetoric and mythology of fascism in the 1930's. And I'm even more disturbed by the similarities between the "Christian" interpretations of Star Wars and the "Left Behind" millenialist novels. And the problems they highlight with Independence Day fit right in with my own discomfort upon seeing that film for the first time (even as I found myself being manipulated into almost 'getting off on' the testosterone-rich climactic battle with the aliens) -- except that I would have put even more emphasis on the anti-feminist subtext of the film.
And their interpretation of the monomyth as it has developed through the latter part of the 20th century certainly helps to explain the (to me) otherwise inexplicable re-election of "W" on the basis of rhetoric and feelings, rather than actual performance and evidence.
But -- like you -- I love my superhero myths. I keep thinking back to the 7th season DS9 episode "It's Only a Paper Moon" and to the fact that sometimes we really DO need a safe place to go, a safe story to retire to for a while, when reality gets to be just too much for us to bear. There's a time and a season for everything, even for comforting myths of superheroes who zoom in to save the day when all seems lost, and those myths need not lead to a "spectator" democracy and totalitarian future.
Thanks for helping to bring that into focus!
(no subject)
(no subject)
Except that, for most of those, there aren't actually long-term consequences. Buffy comes back, Angel comes back, Worf and Jadzia, etc all survive (if there were other long term neg consequences, you'll have to remind me, I don't remember all that stuff.) Even in the Kirk case, as far as I recall, they never even mentioned Edith after that episode. She was created and killed for a one-shot episode of Kirk angst. No real long term consequences there. Those examples seem to me to be more indicative of an escapist theme of temporary angst--creating drama that appears to have long term consequences, but Our Heroes transcend such consequences and lead sort of a charmed life. I'm not saying it's bad; I like all of those shows. And there's probably other examples that do have long-term consequences. But they seem to be outweighed be these sort of fake decisions for the most part.
(no subject)
Actions almost always have long-term consequences on BtVS and AtS. I was almost glad when the series were cancelled because at least then these characters that I was fond of might rest.