There Are Four Lights

The cover art for the upcoming chapter of my manga series, Legend of the Ztarr, is now available for download as desktop and iPad wallpaper and for purchase as posters in various sizes. Legend of the Ztarr Chapter 1 is available online and through most ebook retailers like iBooks and Kindle. The second chapter is due to be released this May.

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Why writers should move beyond The Hero’s Journey

Storytelling is a wonderful platform to share a message. Instead of making an argument through writing an essay, a story can place the reader in a scenario where they can empathize with characters and become emotionally involved in the message the author wants to convey. Entertainment is at its best when the story has meaning, but ever since Joseph Campbell and George Lucas hooked up to cross-promote each other’s work—Campbell using the popularity of Star Wars to boost his mono-myth theory of mythology and Lucas using the Hero’s Journey to lend a sense of intellectual credibility to his popcorn space adventure flicks—Hollywood has been obsessed with churning out cookie-cutter Campbellian scripts that follow the Hero’s Journey formula. The formula does more than just stifle creativity, it contains a framework which will nearly always produce the same message, one based in pre-Enlightenment thinking that hero’s are born not made, humans require rule from divinity, and problems can only be resolved through spiritual metamorphosis. I say it’s time to let go of this Eurocentric, often misogynistic writing formula and mystical view of the world and begin celebrating the humanist ideals from the age of reason through the art of storytelling.

Let’s compare the mono-myth poster child, Star Wars, with the ode to secular humanism that is Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek. It should be said that I’m a big fan of both these series. But when Lucas and Campbell told us to take the Star Wars Saga seriously, as a means of finding deep truth, that’s when I become critical of the story. Star Wars is a great space adventure and highly entertaining, but when it comes to being a model for journeying through life, it’s a giant step back into the dark ages.

When you take a close look at the meaning behind the world of Star Wars, you quickly notice it is one rule by theocracy. Whether it’s the ‘dark side’ of the Sith or the ‘light side’ of the Jedi, those who rule do so by divine right. Luke Skywalker is our hero because it’s his birthright; he was born into the royal bloodline of the Knighthood. You can’t simply work hard to become a Jedi, you need to be born one. The purpose of the common man, like Han Solo, is to serve and protect those of royal blood, like Luke and Leia. Luke is our savior not because he practiced hard to become good with a targeting computer, but because he has privileged access to divine powers. This is all good fun when used simply as escapism, but as David Brin points out in “Star Wars despots vs. Star Trek populists” the message behind Star Wars is one of anti-democratic, elitist ideals.

Star Trek is great escapism too, but if you wish to draw greater meaning from it you’ll find a forward-facing philosophy based in secular humanism where all humans are created equal and their greatness is based on their own merits, free from dogma and the supernatural. James T. Kirk wasn’t given command of the Enterprise through birthright; he earned the title of Captain through his own talent and hard work. The Federation set out on its mission of exploration not by sending lone knights out into the galaxy, but by organizing into cooperative crews who rely on one another to succeed. Roddenberry’s vision for humanity was a future centered on democracy and rationality. This message is far more useful to modern life than the backward-looking theocracy of that galaxy far far away.

In addition to Star Wars, another saga often identified as an example of “modern myth” is J.R.R Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. But, again, the messages found in this tale are anything but helpful in creating a free, modern society. Instead of Jedi, the humans of Middle Earth are ruled by kings, and those kings are subject to the watchful eyes of wizards and immortals. The Ringwraths are the worst examples of how humans should behave; they desire the power of the ring, a man-made object which bestows power to mortal man. How dare they seek the knowledge to become equals with their divine rulers? I reference David Brin again as he points out in his article, “J.R.R. Tolkien – Enemy of Progress”, how the trilogy romanticizes monarchy and privileged knowledge:

“…pain and damnation await any mortal whose ambition aims too high. Don’t try putting on the trappings or emblems or powers that rightfully belong to your betters. Above all, don’t try to decipher and redistribute mysteries.”

There is, however, a more recent “modern-myth” fantasy saga which does indeed promote post-Enlightenment ways. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series uses modern day witches and wizards to go against the idea that a special class of elites is entitled to rule based on bloodlines. The protagonists fight for the idea that both non-magical humans (muggles), witches and wizards born in non-magical families (muggle-borns), and those who grew up completely in the magical world (pure-bloods) are all equal, against the antagonists who believing the pure-bloods deserve to rule over what they consider to be lower class people. There is an emphasis throughout the books that it takes more than supernatural ability to succeed, as is demonstrated in the first book when Hermione and Harry need to pass the sixth barrier to the Philosopher’s Stone. The barrier tests their ability to reason and not their ability to use magic, “’Brilliant,’ said Hermione. ‘This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here forever.’” This is far from the romanticizing of classism and divine power contained in the mythic journeys of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.

The Harry Potter series is often analyzed as another example of the Hero’s Journey in action. However, I find that the series exposes the major weaknesses in the Hero’s Journey theory of storytelling. It reveals the model for what it is—-a series of generalizations so vague that it can be made to fit nearly any adventure story. The seven book series, with a combined 4000+ pages, has enough content that one could find almost any desired pattern in its over 900 000 words. You can find multiple examples in it from the list of Hero’s Journey ingredients, but so many as to become meaningless as a useful formula. Harry Potter contains trials, supernatural aid, many magical mentors, and many thresholds to be crossed because that’s what an adventure story is. The one element that the Hero’s Journey contains which makes it anything more than just a list of common adventure story traits is also the one element the Harry Potter series lacks; a spiritual metamorphosis. Harry doesn’t undergo any spiritual transcendence during his seven year journey through Hogwarts.

Harry’s core traits remain the same from beginning to end. He doesn’t transform himself or his beliefs in order to resolve the conflict of the series. From the very beginning and throughout all seven books, he is willing to sacrifice his life to protect those he loves. He never has to come to this through revelation. What prepares him for this purpose isn’t faith, in fact, he is inspired to set out to do what he was always willing to do—-give up his life—-not by taking a leap of faith but by learning the missing pieces of information in a puzzle and receiving evidence (Snape’s memories) that what he’s planning to do really is the right solution. In his world, with magical laws of physics, the removal of the piece of Voldemort’s soul from his own is no more a spiritual transformation than would be the surgical removal of unwanted growth. It doesn’t change him, it’s simply another physical task that needs to take place—-all the Horcruxes need to be destroyed, and Harry just happens to be one of several. When this is done, Harry’s spirit isn’t changed; he’s still the brave, self-sacrificing Gryffindor from the first book. The only changes are ‘physical’ traits (in the magical sense)…he’s no longer a Horcrux, he’s no longer a Parselmouth, and he no longer has a psychic connection with Voldermort. He never feared death and he never becomes master of two worlds. To apply the Hero’s Journey to Harry is to miss the real message of the series: how to deal with death.

Harry Potter is not a tale of a mystic warrior seeking union with the divine. It’s a story that makes an argument about the role of death in our lives and does so by illustrating the differences between the Potter family and the Riddle family. Harry and his parents are willing to accept death because they value life. Harry’s mother sacrifices her life out of love for her son so he can live. Voldermort, aka Tom Riddle, is left orphaned by his mother because she lets herself die over the grief that his father left them. This illustrates the important difference between Harry’s mother, willing to die for her son, and Tom’s mother, not willing to live for her son. The picture Rowling portrays through the story is that the good characters will risk death to protect the lives of others, while the evil ones risk the lives of others to protect themselves. It is Voldemort, not Harry, who seeks spiritual transcendence beyond the mortal world (by, you know…going on a murderous rampage to split his soul into seven pieces). As writer Jim Hull points out in “Not Everything Is A Hero’s Journey”,

“There can be nothing more destructive to the world of storytelling than this compulsion for spiritual metamorphosis. Stories are about solving problems. Sometimes, solving those problems require the centerpiece of a story, the Main Character, to undergo a major transformation in how they see the world. Sometimes they don’t.”

Harry doesn’t have to transform his worldview in order to complete his story.

Although Star Trek is one of the best examples of storytelling promoting secular humanist ideals—-ways of thinking which are critical to human flourishing—-you don’t have to confine yourself to science-fiction, as I believe Harry Potter demonstrates. Fantasy adventures, even if they have supernatural elements, can convey messages about humanism and critical thinking if the deeper meaning of the story isn’t preoccupied with mysticism. We hang onto to stories about heroes born ‘the chosen one’ and immortals with divine power because we yearn to feel special and to have the comfort of higher powers watching over us. It’s fine to have these tales to innocently escape to, but if we’re going use stories to help us create a map for living we need to grow up and look to forms of storytelling which teach us the values of reason, humanism, and secular thinking.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s best seller, Eat Pray Love, is now a feature film starring Julia Roberts. The combination of the film’s release and my search for new books to read on my iPad (I’m finally back from travelling, returning from busy cities to my small, quiet hometown with limited choices in leisure activities) prompted me to give the famous self-help book a chance. I have a respect for Gilbert, since I was at TED 2009 when she gave a TED talk around her new book, Committed. It’s obvious she has a new age slant, but she is also a well-spoken, intelligent, and talented individual.

Eat Pray Love is a well written book. I really enjoyed her style of storytelling; one of my favourite scenes is when she personifies depression and loneliness as two detectives who have tracked her down during her travels. Unfortunately, it’s the content of the book I had trouble with. But you might be thinking, “Sara, why would you read this kind of book?” and indeed, it’s valid to point out that I’m not exactly the book’s target audience. My interest and passion is in promoting science and critical thinking through art and storytelling, but I have a great deal of respect for TEDsters and if I’m going to read a book that contrasts this philosophy it’s going to be from an author who’s spoken at a conference of the world’s leading thinkers and doers.

The book is a memoir of a point in Gilbert’s life where she goes through a divorce and then takes a year to travel to Italy, India, and Indonesia to ‘find God’ and find herself. My biggest frustration—which seemed to colour the rest of the book for me—was that she was obviously going through major depression. She writes about this herself, how she became depressed as she was going through divorce while simultaneously starting a new, drama-filled relationship. I couldn’t help wondering if depression was what started her problems, rather than it being a result of them. One of the early chapters explains how miserable she was even before her marriage dissolved, “My husband was sleeping in our bed. I was hiding in the bathroom for something like the forty-seventh consecutive night, and—just as during all those nights before—I was sobbing”. She comes to the conclusion that she doesn’t want to be married anymore. For privacy reasons, she doesn’t go into any details of what exactly made her unhappy concerning her husband. She paints a picture of a woman with a ‘perfect life’ who is mysteriously unhappy.

In my mind, a quite plausible reason for her unhappiness is depression. Depression isn’t simply persistent sadness; it’s a deep feeling of hopelessness that takes away your ability to find joy or pleasure in anything. Whatever the reason for her life crisis, it didn’t seem like this was given any consideration as a cause of her growing feelings of dissatisfaction and loss of self. It’s possible that the reason for this is that those who suffer from the illness can feel as though there is something wrong with who they are or how they are living and that if they could only change themselves and their life they would feel better—a new career, a new city, a new relationship. The problem with depression is that it can distort your perception of life in a negative way, regardless of any genuine problems. I can’t imagine how one could begin to make a distinction until the illness is treated.

This brings me to the problem I had with the first portion of the book, “Eat”, where she is spending time in Italy, trying to learn how to relax and find pleasure in life. One of the biggest barriers to treatment of depression can be the taboo of mental illness. About ten days into her visit to Italy, she begins to feel depressed again, “I’d stopped taking my medication only a few days earlier. It had just seemed crazy to be taking antidepressants in Italy. How could I be depressed here?” She continues to explain her ‘long list of personal objections’ to being on medication even though she admits to clearly needing medication and even more, that it actually helped her immensely. Despite all this, she clings to the taboo and a list of justifications for doing so (like her belief that Americans are overmedicated, which, to me, seems completely irrelevant to one’s own personal health).

This irrationality made it difficult to go through the next portion of the book, “Pray”, and her stay at an ashram in India. I can set aside my distaste for the cliché of an upper-middle class Caucasian turning to cherry-picking Eastern religions when faced with dissatisfaction. What’s hard is trying not to see this personal journey of hers as a depressed women running away from evidence-based medicine to the more emotionally appealing fantasy of a spiritual rebirth. My science-based worldview would prompt me to ask why someone would rather believe they are personally flawed, needing a complete life overhaul, than face depression as a health issue. Even though it is a painful and difficult illness, wouldn’t that be better than having a defect with something as important as your very soul? She even mentions her psychiatrist addressing her hesitation to take antidepressants “If you had a kidney disease, you wouldn’t hesitate to take medication for it”. Quite tellingly, Gilbert reveals she comes from “…a family who regard any sickness as a sign of personal, ethical, moral failure”.

It was that point of view of illness that gave me a new understanding of her motivations for embarking on her journey. There’s nothing sexy about taking medication; it can even feel like a sign of weakness (as if it brings up the image of medication being for the elderly…you know—-people who once had purpose trying to extend what small amount of time remains in their now irrelevant lives!). But spirituality is a romantic idea, especially seductive to those with a sense of dissatisfaction with life that leads them to seek ‘purpose’ and look for ‘answers’. We can imagine ourselves on a sort of Joseph Cambell-esque hero’s journey—the main character of an epic quest. There’s something that sounds quite noble about embarking on a quest of self discovery. In reality, the hardships of real action in the face of our troubles are greater than any struggles involved in looking inwards, and can require far more bravery. To me, following the path of the mystic can simply be a way to avoid hard work, to avoid actually doing something. It’s easier to take refuge inside ourselves, no matter how dark or difficult our inner world may seem, than to navigate the world around us which does not bend to our desires. Sometimes, we don’t have the luxury of going on a hero quest before doing real change in the world. You have to face life’s challenges as the person you are today.

Gilbert’s time in India results in 36 chapters of new age skyhookery. Whether it’s Western or Eastern philosophy being discussed, both seek the same ends; to become one with the cosmos (whether you call it god, the universe, a higher power, or enlightenment). What has always been interesting to me is that it is spirituality that creates the separation to begin with. It’s a vital part of the belief system. It separates us using souls, spirits, chakra, chi, ego, and spooky ideas about human consciousness. Scientific probing of the world reveals a true oneness with the universe—quite literally, we are made from the same material as everything else in the universe. Every atom in our body and in each breath we take was forged in the heart of star that burned for billions of years. Nor does it make the separation between “mind and body” that is so key to any spiritual practice. Science continues to make the argument that our mind is the product of the brain.

The reality is that the true goal of spirituality isn’t to become one with the universe or god. What mystics and gurus are chasing is happiness, “According to the mystics, this search for divine bliss is the entire purpose of a human life. This is why we all chose to be born, and this is why all the suffering and pain of life on earth is worthwhile—just for the chance to experience this infinite love”, Gilbert writes. It was coming to this realization that gave me a better understanding of spiritual thinking. When you’re an advocate of reason and evidence-based thinking, it’s hard to understand why anyone searching for truth wouldn’t be interested in using a method to evaluate claims and determine the quality of evidence. The confusion comes from mistaking truth and knowledge as what mystics are looking for. In spirituality, the search is for bliss, and if you can find some, one way to try and hold on to it is to pin it to reality as fundamental truth. The ‘bliss’ needs to also be the ‘truth’.

This new age mind set was expected and I was prepared for it. It’s not the fact that this spiritual mindset was there at all that bothered me. What I found disturbing is its correlation with desperate people trying to overcome hardship (Eat Prey Love?) and its use as a substitute for medical treatment, something which only got worse in the final portion of the book, “Love”, in Bali, Indonesia. Gilbert spends most of her time at the home of medicine man and at a small shop of a holistic healer.

It wasn’t the promotion of alternative medicine through countless naturalistic fallacies that troubled me. What I had a hard time with was the romanticizing of poverty involved in her Bali story. The villagers’ reliance on traditional medicine was shown as a virtue and sort of proof that these people live a simpler, natural, and therefore more moral existence, rather than the more plausible reality of being too poor to afford proper medical treatment. I kept getting the sense that any attention drawn to the reality of widespread poverty was balanced by a positive spiritual description of their society. We can feel better about their low economic status and archaic social structures because they are spiritually rich. This often leads to the tired idea that once people acquire wealth, economic and social prosperity their lives almost certainly become amoral and spiritually bankrupt.

As a story, Eat Pray Love is a well written and well constructed plot, with well written characters. It would be much improved if the actual events of her life were written about without so much of the self-help inner dialogue of ‘suggestions’. The introduction mentions that her writings about her experience in India is from a personal standpoint, “…and not as a theological scholar or as anybody’s official spokesperson”. However, the tone of the book seems to imply it is meant to be read as a guide, as anecdotal evidence that heading off on a journey of self-discovery will cure you from any personal life-crisis you may be going through. Even its title seems to be telling you to do something, as opposed to passively reading—After all, it’s not called Eating, Praying, Loving…look at what I did. No! Do what I did:

Eat, Pray, Love!

My new Book Blogging entries will be composed of my ideas and notes from books I’m currently reading, though I have some catching up to do in posting them. Enjoy!

I’ve reading Matt Ridley’s The Rational Optimist and thought about posting some of my favourite parts. The author has some pretty convincing arguments about how the world has been getting better, and should continue to.

I find that my disagreement is mostly with reactionaries of all political colours: blue ones who dislike cultural change, red ones who dislike economic change and green ones who dislike technological change. I am a rational optimist: rational, because I have arrived at optimism not through temperament or instinct, but by looking at the evidence.

One of his reasons for believing life will continue to get better is that humans do something that no other species does; widespread sharing of ideas.

…at some point in human history, ideas began to meet and mate, to have sex with each other.

The exchange of ideas is similar to the exchange of DNA and end up evolving, like biology does, but at a much faster pace. Of course, there are those who find accelerating change unsettling.

There are people today who think life was better in the past. They argue that there was not only a simplicity, tranquility, sociability and spirituality about life in the distant past that has been lost, but a virtue too.

I really enjoyed the sections where he discusses how people often romanticize the past and just how fortunate we continue to become. The idea that people lived in an easier, stress-free, less complicated life than today is very much a myth.

There are also some very convincing arguments against organic farming. I was surprised by how clearly his facts pointed to a contrast from the eco-friendly method the organic industry markets itself as. Organic farming requires more land.

…to replace all the industrial nitrogen fertiliser now applied would mean an extra seven billion cattle grazing an extra thirty billion acres of pasture.

Organic farming is low-yield, requires extra land to feed cattle and requires crushed rock or fish to avoid exhausting the mineral nutrients from the soil “These have to be mined or netted”.

Should the world decide to go organic — that is, should farming get its nitrogen from plants and fish rather than direct from the air using factories and fossil fuels — then man of the nine billion will starve and all rainforest will be cut down.

More to come!

I’m currently spending a little time in Los Angeles, away from my lil’ hobbit hole up in Canada. Unlike when I’m in Canada (where I stay in my hobbit hole, have no adventures, and eat second breakfast), since I’ve been here I’ve been heading out to events and cool places—-and meeting cool people.

A couple weeks ago, I was invited out to the Magic Castle by Richard Wiseman, psychologist, magician, and author of The Luck Factor, Quirkology, and his newest book 59 Seconds. My man, Q, and I had a lovely time at the castle with everyone in our group and key lime pie and cosmopolitans were had by all! (ok, just me).

The Magic Castle is, guess what, full of magic! We had a blast and Q and I are actually headed back in October for his birthday. All of the photos can be found on my Flickr page, here.

I found out about Richard and his new book while listening to an episode of The Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe a few months back. He was being interviewed about 59 Seconds, which lead me to buying the book and then tweeting about it. His @reply of thanks and mention of my TED attendance was the beginning of our twitter friendship!

Twitter was also responsible for our outing yesterday to our first Caltech skeptics lecture. I caught Michael Shermer‘s tweet about Dr. Jeff Schweitzer‘s talk “Beyond Cosmic Dice: Moral Life In A Random World” and Q was nice enough to take his nerdy gal out to Pasadena to be with skeptics and endure all that sciency-stuff he doesn’t like, awww~!

Well, since I’m a TED Fellowship member, I couldn’t waste the opportunity to introduce myself to another TEDster! Here’s a pic of Michael Shermer and I from after the lecture, when everyone met up at a nearby restaurant. Unfortunately—-as you can see—-I’m back to my usual ‘no makeup + nerd vision + ponytail’ look…

…actually, it was just sitting in the mailbox this morning—-but it should’ve arrived this way! Yep, my very own copy of Death from the Skies signed by the totally awesome Bad Astronomer, Dr. Phil Plait. And yes, he’s lucky enough to be getting a manga goody bag of…goodness. I’m assuming it will arrive via magic ninjas or team of sailor scouts…

Do you want your very own manga goodies by mangaka Sara E. Mayhew? Great! You can get your copy of Secrets of Sorcerers Vol. 1 over at Amazon! Unfortunately, if you want a print copy of Legend of the Ztarr, for now you’ll have to call up Viz and tell them they should publish it…

Heeey~! Let’s write a post about things in my room I like! Okee! Hmm, what do we have? Yes, that green cat is Cringer from MotU (I no longer have his Battle Cat armor). Apparently, he’s guarding a few copies of Shojo Beat; I haven’t had a subscription this year because I never got around to reading them very often. Though, I do like scanning through them when I get stuck drawing and need some shoujo inspiration.

At the top of one of my little book piles is Hamlet. If I’m not mistaken, this copy is from my highschool days and somehow was never returned. I really like the binding–oh, and I like Hamlet…though I think I enjoy MacBeth more (Cyrano was my favourite). There’s some manga at the bottom of the pile; I don’t think I’ve read any of them. I like the artwork in Kamikaze but have no clue what the story is about. I have read some of the Fushigi Yugi Genbu Kaiden, but not lately. Wedged inbetween Kamikaze and my random copies of Secrets of Sorcerers is a Harry Potter book. I’ve actually only read the last two HP books (and by read I mean listen to Jim Dale read it to me). Now, here’s the really good stuff; my Carl Sagan books! Cosmos, Broca’s Brain, and The Varieties of Scientific Experience.

This book is definitely one of my favourites. It’s edited by Sagan’s widow, Ann Druyan, and contains his talks from the Gifford Lectures. The subtitle is “A Personal View of the Search for God”, but there’s plenty more here than just religious debate. I think Sagan explains nicely why science clashes with religious and spiritual beliefs so often, in a way that is really clear for those, like me, who have no background in science. I’m reading and listening to a few of Sagan’s books so I tend to mix up what I’ve read from which book, but what I love about Sagan is how he can explain science topics simply while still sounding ‘magical’. I think that’s what some people find missing when listening to many scientists talk; it can seem dry or cold…like there’s no emotion involved in their work. Sagan talks about nature in the same sort of poetic way that new age gurus try too. If you’ve ever heard someone say, in response to science, that they just want to believe that “there has to be more than this“, as though they just aren’t sastisfied with the ‘plain facts’ and just want that magical feeling about the universe, then you should point them towards this book; Sagan makes the universe seem just as, if not more magical than any spiritual guru could, but he just so happens to have evidence for the claims he’s so passionate about.

Now, we can’t forget about my Sky-Watcher telescope! Sadly, I haven’t used it in awhile and probably would if it wasn’t stuck in my room. The nice thing about living in a small town is there isn’t a lot of light polution, so I can just take it out onto the back deck for stargazing. And it doesn’t take very long to drive out of town away from the street lights.

Man, I really dig Jupiter and Saturn! Jupiter was the first planet I saw when I first bought my scope. I was all “wthasdkfjwoeihosif~that big bright star turns into a PLANET in this thing homg! Magic!“. It has tiny lil specs orbiting it, awwww…so cute! And yes, Saturn and its rings still amaze me each and every time I see it.