Sunday, August 12, 2007

Spiderman or Marvelling at Marvel

After an eye opening trip to the comic book store down the street and two evenings of watching Spiderman movies with my son (both of which I have seen a few times before) I am starting to have a new appreciation for super heroes and what they mean to young (and much older) boys. Certainly I have spent some time in the comic book and super hero trenches in order to win the affections of various sinewy limbed young lads with uncombed hair and untucked shirts, but I never really understood the attraction. Of course I could make the intellectual arguments about how these stories adhere to the 'hero's journey' tradition in folklore and appreciate how each villian and each hero has very personal motivations and yadda yadda yadda. I loved how there was always a tiny thread that separated the villian from the hero and the conflicts were always epic in scope. Just like the great myths I was taught to admire.

What I didn't get and am only begining to understand is the instructive quality in the hero's journey. This is something, as a woman that is saddled with much different cultural expectations, that I am excited to learn.

Now, I must preface this by pointing out where most current educational wisdom stands on this issue. I'm sure just about anyone who grew up in America understands the general attitude toward comic books. They're like candy. The assumption is that they have little literary substance and that they are just a step above watching television. You will find that preschools that cater to upwardly mobile, college educated families have policies that specifically restrict super hero play. The reasoning behind this is that the establishment considers super hero play to be "limiting" and that it does not allow the child to stretch their imaginations. When I had my brief stint running a preschool curriculum I swallowed this hook line and sinker. I am now starting to re-think my position as it seems to me this wisdom comes from a very "feminine" position, and it may not necessarily be right for boys. It certainly wouldn't be right for my boy.

First let me attack the idea that the play is too "limiting" because there are certain ideas about who the characters are from the get go and that, educators assume, leaves little room for the children to create on their own. If this is true, then how has the Commedia d'el Arte survived? In the commedia there are a certain number of archetypes and there is a definite form to them. Do acting schools touch on the commedia only to give their students a taste of theatrical history? Surely that must be a part of it, but another part is that there is great freedom within the form. Once there is an understanding of the archetype there are an infinte number of ways to play with that character and students of the art have found great joy and freedom while exploring these archetypes within themselves. It isn't the character that is limiting. Rather than ban the character we should seek to challenge assumptions about the character and about good and evil, responsibility and power because that is what a good comic book does. That is what a superhero that lasts does. The super hero looks to express and explore what it means to be a man and is often a cautionary tale for how easy it is for a man to go astray.

Since I have Spiderman on the brain, let's deal with him, shall we?

Peter Parker (and most of the major classic super heroes) operates from a distinctly male fear- if I share what I am it will endanger those I love most. While this fear manifests itself literally in the story lines (the villians always use the girlfriend as leverage) this emotional spectre has always been lurking somewhere on the horizon for most of the males I've known. He loves deeply, but for the safety of those he loves he must wall off a part of himself. The super hero has great power, but he is ultimately doomed to lonely life, constantly on guard against super villains and the demons within.

While Peter Parker has a distinct moral center the way forward for him is shadowy at best. His sense of responsibility is often at odds with his personal needs and desires and yet his sense of duty always wins out but not without a great inner struggle. Spiderman has great agility and strength, but the stronger he is the more he has to defend. The tragedy of the story is that his incredible ability isolates him and makes him, and those he loves, more vulnerable

So what is my son learning from Spiderman? Well, the circumstances are quite complex. I like the fact that no one is just plain evil. Every villian has suffered some loss or humiliation- there is always a defining moment that tells us where the human broke and crossed the line. He is also learning that being "good" is not easy and that even the strong and the brave can be tempted but that we always have choices. He already (at the age of 5) relates to the fear that I have mentioned- the fear of caring and being vulnerable is very real for him. Although Spiderman does not always make the best of choices in his personal life, we see him struggle to understand himself. I'd say that struggle is worth something.

Women say they want their men to be more open with their feelings but don't we secretly swoon when we watch Spiderman silently whisking Mary Jane away from danger? I'll admit it, I will take a quiet and firm arm around my waist over a love poem any day. One just means more than another. Super heroes understand that and maybe it isn't a bad thing for our boys to explore that, too. After all, I believe it is through stories that most of us learn about ourselves and the world around us. It is through stories that we can step outside of ourselves and look at circumstances, actions and consequences. Our boys need heroes through which they can understand themselves. It is our job, as parents and educators, to realize that our children have their own wisdom. They choose to focus on stories and characters that speak to them in a way we can't. We need not to ban super heroes but to put the heroes through their paces and allow discovery to happen. Dig deep into the characters and find out what it is that has captured the child's attention and then go a little deeper.

That is where the stories live.

2 comments:

Scott said...

My then-girlfriend and I went to see a play starring (and possibly directed by) Steve DiMenna when we were in high school.

I only remember two things. One is that his character flossed a lot, which I guess the real DiMenna did, too.

Second, I remember one part where the woman was pleading with her man to open up and tell her his feelings. He did so and revealed a lot, including some insecurities. She was offput, said a quiet "Oh," and turned away. The man said, "It wasn't what you thought it would be , was it?"

It was an eye-opening moment into my relationships with girls, where I learned that what's explicitly stated and not-stated isn't always what's meant.

Bree O'Connor said...

I think any time we have expectations about what it would be like if person Y said or did X there is a danger that we might have overlooked something very important. It is just as likely that we would wind up wishing that we had never had the thought in the first place. I think we very often need a change to remind ourselves how much we really like things the way they are. It would be nice, though, if we didn't have to go through all that trouble just to figure it out.