One of the best sources of the concept of archetypes
and the mythic journey as it applies to fiction is found in The
Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers, by Christopher Vogler,
another must-have read available at Amazon.com and other online
bookstores. Once we have an understanding of personality styles, it’s a
strange revelation to encounter the notion that all stories share a common
journey of self-discovery and are engaged by characters who play roles we
all recognize as with the hero or heroine, the mentor and villain. We can
make good use of this understanding to begin our character diary and even
to better understand the course of our own lives.
To quote a section of the blurb of The Writer’s
Journey:
“Based on the work of Joseph Campbell, this book
provides an insider’s look at how master storytellers from Lucas to
Spielberg have used mythic structure to create powerful stories which tap
into the mythological core which exists in all of us. Here you will
encounter the concept of archetypes, and the stages of the journey that
all good stories follow.”
Archetypes are templates for the roles we play in life.
The roles we play are our key interactions with others. Some are obvious.
Who is the Hero or Heroine of our diary? Authors often identify with that
role. Readers do the same. Heroes and Heroines are often, although not
always, the Protagonist of a story. If we wish, we can write about a Hero
or Heroine from the perspective of a lesser character. That character will
then be our Protagonist.
One of the most important archetypes is the Mentor.
Mentors are our teachers in life, those who provide us with the tools and
information with which to survive. The Mentor, though, is far more than
Merlin, or Mrs. Johnson, our third grade teacher. The ego is a complex
entity. It can be a selfish brute tempted by carnal hungers and sensual
pleasures, but it can also function at the highest level of abstract
reason and logic. At that level, the mentor is the part of our selves that
knows in no uncertain terms what is good for us and what is ultimately
harmful. Therefore, our own most important Mentor in life is that higher
self of our own.
In the end, we may have a glimpse of where the metaphor
of good and evil originates in the struggle between thoughtless temptation
and metered reasoning. Good and bad alike dwell within each of us. Mentors
can be demanding and difficult to live with, but they are our best bet for
getting from point A to point B with minimal repercussions.
Going it alone in life is not the forte of the social
primate. Rabbits have eyes on the side of their head to compensate for the
fact that they do go it alone. With Sidekicks at our backs, we also have
that three-hundred and sixty degree net of safety. A story told with this
entourage of associates, Sidekicks, Friends, Allies, Companions, is a far
grander adventure than can be achieved from a solitary point of view. We
cannot have our Hero or Heroine getting killed early in the story, but we
can have close associates die to show the risks they are taking. They are
like mini-Protagonists who show alternate possibilities the main
characters could be taking, and what would happen if they made those
alternate choices. They are the only archetypes truly exterior to the Hero
or Heroine, the ego of the reader, and represent alternate routes toward a
goal. The Mentor can have an internal reality, as we've seen. So can the
Villain.
The Villain represents the worst of human potential, a
potential for inflicting pain and injury on others, or self-destruction
upon the self. Villains harbor dark temptations born of suppressed anger
and hurt. Thieves and rapists live in the shadow of the Villain, the
counterpart to the Mentor in many ways. Here again the play between good
and bad can be seen, although the best Villains are actually the most
human ones, the ones we can, to some small degree, empathize with. The
stories we write in which they actually triumph, however, aren't generally
the ones we'd get published, if we were to try. Society does not cater to
the dark side of human nature for good reason.
Many of the other archetypes in a story are rather
spooky, shadowy entities, good for generating suspense, but more difficult
to identify and use. A Herald represents is a precognition, a warning of
what lies ahead, an indication that an adventure is about to begin.
Threshold Guardians lie at the entrance to the special world of a story.
It takes tact and wit to get past these characters who represent the wit
and skills needed to even access the environment within which the story
will take place.
During the course of a story, Protagonists often
encounter Shape-shifters, characters who can sometimes be of help and are
at other times hazardous. What we think of value in our lives can
sometimes turn against us should we not see or misunderstand some aspect
of their relationship to us. A drug dealer promises evenings of pleasure,
but is also a forewarning of the risks we are taking. And there is the
Trickster, a tool to use to inject a bit of humor, often sinister humor,
in a drama. A horrendous bark turns out to be a small dog barking down a
register, his voice amplified by heat ducts. What we see is not always
what we get, and what we get sometimes bites harder than we would have
thought. Tricksters are good for intensifying suspense by cutting
overconfident egos to size and making our story characters work harder for
survival.
The Shadow is to be feared. The Shadow is sinister, but
almost always represents aspects of our own inner being that we have not
as yet, but must come to terms with. We love our parents, for example, but
secretly feel abandoned by four years of military service and harbor
resentment that threatens to express itself unexpectedly. The Shadow waits
patiently, knowing we cannot deny its presence forever. An inability to
come to terms with aspects of our own Shadow is an inevitable crisis
waiting to occur.
When we write our diary, we use relatively pure
personality styles playing pure archetypal roles to make it easily to see
how the various facets of our lives interact. All that remains is
awareness of the paths our stories will take. Herein lies the concept of
mythic journeys.
