Happy Birthday, Joseph Campbell

Posted on March 26, 2013 by mythgirl under Books, Grad School, Life, Mythology, Psychology, Teaching

There is no other writer/thinker/scholar/mythologist who has had as big of an impact on me as Joseph Campbell. His notion of following bliss was introduced to me during a turning point in my life when I was an undergrad. Following my bliss led me to into two master’s programs that transformed me. The first master’s program led me into my career; the second led me into my very being. Beginning with the works of Campbell, I have discovered exciting realms of mythology, scholarship, psychology, psyche, and bliss. For more than a decade, his words have inspired me to make leaps of faith and follow unpaved paths.

Happy 109th bday, Joe!

“Did I Fall Sleep?” Self-Awareness and Technology in Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse

Posted on October 17, 2012 by mythgirl under Grad School, Mythology, Pop Culture, Psychology, Whedonverse, Words for Wednesday, Writing

For this week’s Words for Wednesday, I have an essay on Dollhouse to share with you. I wrote the essay this summer for the graduate course “Psyche and Nature.” It’s written for a reader who is not familiar with the show. In addition to discussing ideas from the course, the assignment required a brief personal reflection. Limited to ten to twelve pages, I didn’t have a chance to delve deeper into ideas regarding Topher or to touch on Senator Perrin at all. Perhaps I’ll expand on it in the future. Enjoy!

“The more successful we become in science and technology, the more diabolical are the uses to which we put our inventions and discoveries” (Carl Jung II).

During 2009 and 2010, two short seasons of Dollhouse aired on FOX. The DVD and Blu-ray sets comprise a total of a mere twenty seven episodes (including two that were unaired). While this television series did not attract the network’s desired ratings, it has been greatly received by many popular culture fans, including the dedicated cult fans of Joss Whedon’s work (including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly and Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog). The series blurs lines of morality and asks tough questions about science, technology, and soul. Set in present day, the series focuses on the Los Angeles branch of the Dollhouse, a clandestine business run by the corporation Rossum – a name chosen by the co-founders because of the 1920s play R.U.R. about Rossum’s Universal Robots (“Hollow”). The employers, scientists, and employees of Rossum typically view the mind as a machine and treat it as such. The mindset here is identical to the modern first-world notion identified by Glen Slater in his essay “Cyborgian Drift”: “We have already lost an awareness of ourselves as animals, as a species belonging to an ecosystem, and we are fast developing psychologies that reduce our experience to robotic and computational processes, conceiving of ourselves as analogues of complex machines” (Slater 173). This approach pulls humanity away from its nature, away from the environment of nature, and into a technological world that seems to promise more destruction than hope.

The stage for Dollhouse is initially set by its location in Los Angeles, which provides an interesting backdrop for the series. This crowded, fast-paced, highly industrialized city is often utilized as a setting in film and television to let viewers know they are descending into some type of underground or underworld experience. Despite the glamour often associated with Hollywood, it is not uncommon for people to maintain negative thoughts and assumptions about Los Angeles. This is demonstrated, for example, when one character claims to be in hell and is corrected: “You’re in Los Angeles, though I can see the confusion” (“Belonging”). In a later episode, a character comments, “He’ll be an empty headed robot wandering around Hollywood. He’ll be fine” (“Belle Chose”). This comment, even without its context, clearly identifies assumptions about individuals, technology, and Los Angeles that operate in our world and in the series.

In the fictional Los Angeles of Dollhouse, a technology has been developed where an individual’s personality can be removed and replaced with a technologically constructed personality. This is the service offered through the Dollhouse’s “dolls,” people that have “volunteered” to work for the Dollhouse for a five-year contract. These dolls are transformed into whoever the high-paying client desires for an “engagement” that often only lasts one day. Therefore, each doll undergoes many different engagements and personality implants throughout their service to the Dollhouse. During that time, the original personality of the doll is removed and stored on a wedge (a type of hard-drive). The notion of the wedge has traces back to the 1980s when the “possibility . . . began to surface on the AI grapevine [of] the idea of ‘downloading’ the mind into a machine (Noble 161). Throughout the series, the fictionalized technology demonstrates roots in our modern technological developments.

The dolls are in type sort of blank-slate state when they are at the Dollhouse and not being used for an engagement. When a client requests a doll for a job, the parameters for the desired personality are built by the on-site programmer Topher Brink. The desired personality is then, through a new wedge, technologically imprinted into the doll. The term “imprinted” has a history linking back to Plato and Freud who “liken[ed] memory to imprinting (whether this be on a wax tablet or within specifically psychical neurons in the brain)” (Casey 16). In the Dollhouse, imprinting includes the creation of a false identity with false memories that are transferred into the brain. Therefore, when a doll is imprinted he or she not pretending to be a different person with a different personality – that doll becomes that personality completely and wholly. For example, if a client pays for a doll to steal a piece of art, the doll absolutely believes he or she is a thief. Furthermore, if a client wishes to have a doll for a romantic engagement, that doll is programmed to absolutely love the client. The doll believes their identity just as well as any of us do. The basic assumption in creating and implementing this technology is that the body and the mind are completely separable. As a result, this is an abuse of technology that goes against human nature. Unfortunately, this science fiction thriller offers a glimpse of the threats posed by our own modern technology and desires to improve upon or perfect the human being.

Such ideas about the separation of mind and body and technological advancement stretch back through our history. Descartes insisted that the mind is separate from the body and the self; by the mid-twentieth century, AI scientist Marvin Lee Minksy “described the human mind as nothing more than a ‘meat machine’ . . . and regarded the body as ‘teleoperator for the brain’” (Noble 156). Minksy, therefore, insisted that we can be replaced by machines (Noble 156). Developments in AI, robotics, and cyborgology have stemmed from this historical perspective and, for many, have called to question the understanding of the mind and the body. What Dollhouse ultimately shows viewers is that, despite advances in technology, there is an inherent mind-body connection. When some of the dolls begin to show “grouping” patterns, Topher notes that what is happening runs “deeper than memory.” Their habit of sharing meals and activities together in the doll state, despite all the wipes and various implants, demonstrates “instinctual survivor patterns” (“Grey Hour”). Furthermore, it demonstrates the inherent connection between mind, body, and experience. To honor humanity and the laws of nature, this connection should not be tampered with. As Jung noted decades ago, “Through scientific understanding, our world has become dehumanized” (Jung 79). Dollhouse is a constant reminder of this break from nature that we need to mend.

The main character in Dollhouse is the doll Echo. Through flashbacks across the two seasons, viewers learn that she was originally Caroline Farrell, a young woman trying to destroy the Dollhouse for its abuses of technology and persons. In her honorable though misguided attempts, she commits terrorist acts. When Rossum Corporation catches her trying to blow up one of their buildings, she is offered a contract with the Dollhouse in exchange for her inevitable prison time. The series begins with several formulaic episodes that depict her various engagements as a doll, such as being someone’s girlfriend, a bodyguard, and a midwife. However, it becomes apparent to Topher that, unlike other dolls, Echo is “evolving” (“Spy”). When the dolls are in the Dollhouse in their doll state, they have no memories or personality. After each engagement with clients, the dolls are wiped – supposedly returned to a blank slate. As early as the second episode, however, Echo is seen, after an engagement that has been wiped, making a “shoulder-to-the-wheel” gesture that the client had taught her. She starts to become more than what they program her to be.

Echo’s name and lack of identity (at the beginning of the series) call to mind the myth of Echo and Narcissus. However, there is more to Echo – in the myth and in the Dollhouse – than meets the eye. The mythic figure is condemned to repeat what is said around her, as Echo in the Dollhouse must behave as she is programmed – but it does not end there. In the myth, Echo is attracted to Narcissus, someone that Patrica Berry identifies as being similar to Echo (121). Berry concludes that through the relationship between Echo and Narcissus, the myth reveals that “what one echoes is very like oneself, and that within one’s echoing is a kind of self” (121). Though Echo’s voice is a mere repetition of what Narcissus says, she has chosen Narcissus as the one to echo. Furthermore, Berry indicates that Echo is “shaped by what’s around her” (121). The same applies to Echo in the Dollhouse. Though Echo does not chose the personalities she is imprinted with, the traits that begin to form her evolving character in doll state are similar to her original personality as Caroline. In fact, as she evolves into a whole person in the second season, Echo adopts the same mission Caroline had to overthrow the Dollhouse. In echoing the person she used to be, she is demonstrating her true self. Her character arch demonstrates that, ultimately, the self cannot be eradicated.

In season one, viewers learn that Echo is not the first doll to exhibit a likeness to her original personality. Flashbacks introduce the doll Alpha (a violent criminal the Dollhouse recruited in exchange for his prison term) who brutally attacks another doll while in his doll state. The Dollhouse was mistaken in believing they could completely eradicate an individual’s natural tendency with technology. After Alpha’s first attack, he is taken for a “treatment” where his mind should be wiped. However, he struggles against being wiped by the tech and a “composite event” occurs: all the personalities that Alpha was ever imprinted with for engagements are dumped into his mind. After this event, Alpha escapes, killing and injuring others on his way out. It is not only the overload of the many imprinted personalities in his head or their temperaments but his own natural propensity to violence that brings out the ferocity of the many “voices” that now struggle in his mind.

Ultimately, the employees of the Dollhouse do not take Alpha’s case seriously enough. The superior of the L.A. Dollhouse, Adelle Dewitt, explains that Alpha was an “unfortunate technical anomaly” (“Omega”). If they really heeded the warning presented by Alpha’s actions, they would see that the real problem was not merely the poor choice to imprint a violent criminal nor was it an anomaly. His violent outburst is representative of the mind/body connection that the Dollhouse has at best misunderstood, but more than likely chosen to ignore. By removing and imprinting personalities, the Dollhouse is interfering with human nature, and the consequences will be much more disastrous than the frightful event with Alpha.

At the end of season one, Alpha returns to kidnap Echo. He then dumps all of her past imprints into her mind to make her like him (harkening images of Frankenstein’s creature desiring the creation of another monster). However, since her nature is different from his, she rejects him. After surviving Alpha’s kidnapping, Echo is returned to the Dollhouse in the first season’s penultimate episode. She undergoes a wipe that is supposed to remove all the personalities that Alpha dumped into her. After this, she appears to be in the traditional doll state, but the early episodes of season two reveal that she remembers pieces of all her engagements. Eventually, imprinting is not even necessary. She can access any personality she chooses. She does not pose a threat in the way Alpha did because she is not naturally violent. She does pose a threat to the Dollhouse because she wants to destroy Rossum. However, over the course of season two, employees of the Los Angeles branch of the Dollhouse also begin to recognize that what Rossum is truly trying to achieve is far from respectable or acceptable. Ultimately, they work with Echo to try and prevent an apocalyptic future that their technological “advances” threaten to generate.

The various events that transpire throughout Dollhouse because of the technology implemented point to one key element: memory. To begin with, most of the individuals that volunteer to be dolls have memories they are wishing to escape or subdue. For example, one doll, Victor, is suffering from severe post-traumatic stress after serving in the army. In return for his time to the Dollhouse, he will be compensated with a great amount of money and the removal of his PTSD. Another doll, November, has signed her contract because she cannot deal with the death of her child. However, as Dennis Slattery has identified, “Body and autobiography, one’s individual life story, are seamless” (210). Likewise, Edward S. Casey in his book Remembering: A Phenomenological Study emphasizes again and again that the body and the mind are inseparable. Memories are not housed in just the mind; they are a part of the body as well. This explains why Alpha’s formal criminal nature surfaces in his doll state and why Echo continues her fight against Rossum. Something in them is aware of who they used to be.

The unconscious is another important element explored in Dollhouse. The physical placement of the Dollhouse (besides its Los Angeles locale) points to the unconscious. It is housed underground, hidden underneath a business building at street level. The dolls literally descend into the Dollhouse. To drive the metaphor even deeper, when the dolls sleep, they go into sleep pods that are inlayed in the floor. They physically go down into bed for the dreamless sleep they are given. It would be dangerous, from the perspective of the Dollhouse, for the dolls to dream. The removal of dreams, of that access to the unconscious, leaves the dolls even further cut off from their psyches, their selves, and their very human nature.

In pushing the limitations of human nature, Topher “advances” the technological possibilities in the Dollhouse, altering not only the minds of the dolls but their bodies as well. His most extravagant attempt is with Echo in the episode “Instinct.” Nate, the client Echo is sent to, lost his wife during the birth of their son. Unable to bond with his son and care for him, Nate pays the Dollhouse to program Echo to be the boy’s mother. To make this as real as possible for Echo, Topher makes “a code for the brain that change[s] the physical body . . . on a glandular level”: he programs Echo’s body to lactate (“Instinct”). The bond she experiences with the child is as strong as the bond between a birth mother and her child. After the engagement ends and the imprint is supposedly wiped from Echo, she fights off Topher and flees the Dollhouse to return to her baby. When another employee notes, “Maybe her body was stronger than her brain,” Topher recognizes that “the maternal instinct is the purest” (“Instinct”). This is the first time that Topher realizes that he took something too far. Though Topher is only one cog in the machine of the global Dollhouses, his character provides a fascinating look at the scientific mind.

In 1929, scientist John Desmond Beral noted, “Scientists would emerge as a new species and leave humanity behind” (qtd. in Noble 196). This is echoed in the fictional company Rossum, whose plans are certainly for the elite; their application of science and technology will not only leave behind but abuse the rest of humanity. What is really perplexing about this idea is that while some see it Beral’s claim as a threat, others see it as a promise. Individuals such as Reinhardt readily recognize the “threat to our survival” posed by technology (qtd. in Noble 208), while those like Moravec see it as a salvation, with the ability of machines to provide “personal immortality by mind transplant” (qtd. in Noble 162). Many former and current scientists would be greatly impressed and thrilled by the developments of the Rossum Corporation.

In the fictional world of Dollhouse, scientists have gone even further than AI, robotics, and cyborg technology. Here, the mind is not replaced by a machine but enhanced by the use of technology. Modification to the original human mind is a great leap forward, from this scientific perspective, because the mind has a far greater computational power than any designed computer or machine. The ability to program the human mind as one can program a computer seems like a great concept to many of the scientists and employees of Rossum. Through their technological capacity to copy, remove, and replace an individual’s mind, Rossum eventually plans to offer “upgrades,” wherein clients can move their mind from one body to the next. The technology is already being used by some employees of the company. Historically, this echoes the vision of AI specialist Hans Moravec and his prediction of “‘postbiological’ computer based immortality” (Noble 161). He foretold that with this technology and “enough widely dispersed copies, your permanent death would be highly unlikely” (Moravec qtd. in Noble 162). Though this sounds exciting to many in our world and in the Dollhouse, one of the co-creators of Rossum, Clyde Randolph, recognized a problem.

Whenever dolls or employees of Rossum become damaged or pose a threat to the Dollhouse or Rossum, they are sent to the Attic. In the Attic, the individual is placed into a permanent comatose state. The body is completely restricted and the individual is left in a nightmare state, trapped in an endless loop. It is in the Attic (on a secret undercover mission) that Echo meets Clyde, who was placed in the Attic by his partner when he tried to detect possible problems with the use of their technology. Clyde reveals his nightmare loop to Echo: over the fifteen years that he has been in the Attic, he has “run statistical probability scenarios for where the technology [of Rossum] might lead. All but three percent of them include the end of civilization” (“Attic”). As the episodes “Epitaph 1″ and “Epitaph 2″ (the respective season one and season two finales) ultimately reveal, he is not wrong.

Like many that work for the Dollhouse, Topher is completely embedded in the promises of Rossum’s technology. Season 2 reveals that he sleeps on a mattress surrounded by machines in a room connected to his office in the Dollhouse, which he rarely leaves. Ecologist and philosopher David Abram identifies that we currently “participate almost exclusively with other humans and with our own human-made machines” (ix). This is most aptly demonstrated in Topher’s character as he primarily interacts with other employees, dolls, and technology. In the season one episode “Haunted,” Topher even programs a doll to celebrate his birthday with him. He is completely cut off from the outside world and, therefore, from nature. Abram recognizes that our trending technological, human-based modality is “threatening to obliterate the world-of-life entirely” (41). Indeed, that becomes the greatest threat of the Dollhouse, as predicted by Clyde.

Rossum’s technology, which continually develops, falls into the wrong hands, and by the year 2019, wiping and imprinting has happened on a mass scale. The world has fallen into chaos and many people have lost their minds – literally. Echo and her comrades attempted to prevent this fall out, and they are ultimately able to save the world in the heart wrenching finale, but the path is dangerous and destructive. The destructive and frightening ability of the technology clearly supersedes any benefits it may have once presented.

Scientists like the AI guru Earl Cox see technology as a promise that will allow people to “escape the human condition” (qtd. in Noble 164), failing to recognize the greatness of our flawed condition. It is the human condition that allows us to experience the wonder of the world and to treat the world and each other with any sort of kindness. It is not an easy world, but allowing technology to run or replace our race is not the solution. As Joseph Campbell indicates in Pathways to Bliss, “Life is a horrendous presence, and you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that. The first function of a mythological order has been to reconcile consciousness to this fact” (3). This is clearly something that our modern technological myths lack.

A lack of nature – the physical outdoor world – is apparent throughout Dollhouse. In one poignant moment in season one, this is brought to attention in a brief conversation. When Echo is remotely wiped while on an engagement, and before she has developed any autonomy, she is suddenly in her doll state in the real world. As a result, she becomes clueless and helpless on the heist she was supposed to manage. Noting that they are now going to get caught, a fellow thief comments that they will be sent to prison. Echo innocently asks what prison is, and he replies, “A place with no sky.” This is great commentary on the Dollhouse itself. Embedded in technology in the depths of the ground without windows, sunshine, or fresh air, the characters in Dollhouse face the same trauma that Glendinning identifies in her essay “Technology, Trauma, and the Wild”: “The trauma endured by technological people like ourselves is the systemic and systematic removal of our lives from the natural world: from the tendrils of earthy textures, from the rhythms of sun and moon, from the spirits of the bears and trees, from the life force itself” (Glendinning 51). The Dollhouse shows us what happens when technology essentially possesses the mind and attempts to delete the natural, needed exposure to nature.

In my life, I have found nature to the most grounding element in my life. At times of stress or worry, the best thing that I can do is spend time outside, especially at the beach. As far back as I can remember, I have felt at peace and in balance when I am staring into the open ocean. Sitting on the sand and watching the tide flow in and out awakens my rhythm with nature. It reminds me of everything essential, natural, and important. I love that the ocean (not the beach front around it) is not run by mankind. We do not move the shore line or orchestrate the ocean waves. This is nature at its finest. When I cannot get to the beach, and I feel stress, I will literally stop what I am doing, go outside, and simply get some fresh air. Stopping, breathing, feeling the nature of the air, examining the sky, and hearing the birds is deeply refreshing. I really got a feel for how important this connection with nature is when I worked in an office building that had no windows. Some days I would literally run down the stairs to get outside on my breaks or at the end of my shift. Even four hours of complete indoor isolation is damaging to the psyche. The absence of nature in Dollhouse reminds me of that windowless office.

Dollhouse addresses many concerns about technology and humanity, including many secondary storylines that extend beyond the scope of this paper. Essentially, the series serves as a great warning, signaling what catastrophic possibilities may indeed lay before us if we continue on our speedy, developmental path with technology. As Slater indicates in his “Cyborgian Drift” essay, “resistance is not futile.” Our path does not have to end in destruction, and our way to salvation is not the negation of technology. However, as Dollhouse emphasizes, the important questions must be asked sooner rather than later. In her essay, Glendinning asks us to ask all the right questions: “What is the essence of modern technology? How does it structure our lives? Our perceptions? Our politics? How does it shape our psyches? What does it say about our relationship to our humanness and to the Earth?” (42). It is our responsibility to explore and answer these questions in a manner that honestly honors our nature and our psyches, as well as the earth and its nature. If we ignore these questions now, we just may pass the point of no return.

Works Cited

Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-than-human World. New York: Pantheon, 1996. Print.

“The Attic.” Dollhouse. Maurissa Tancharoen and Jed Whedon. Fox. 18 Dec. 2009. Twentieth Century Fox, 2010. DVD.

Berry, Patricia. Echo’s Subtle Body: Contributions to an Archetypal Psychology. Dallas: Spring Publications. 1982. Print.

Campbell, Joseph. Pathways to Bliss. Novato: New World, 2004.

Casey, Edward S. Remembering: A Phenomenological Study. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 2000. Print.

“Epitaph 1.” Dollhouse. Joss Whedon. Fox. Unaired. Twentieth Century Fox, 2009. DVD.

Glendinning, Chellis. “Technology, Trauma, and the Wild.” Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind. Ed. Theodore Roszak, Mary E. Gomes, and Allen D. Kanner. San Francisco: Sierra Club, 1995. 41-54. Print.

“Gray Hour.” Dollhouse. Writ. Sarah Faine and Elizabeth Craft. Fox. 6 Mar. 2009. Twentieth Century Fox, 2009. DVD.

“The Hollow Men” Dollhouse. Writ. Michele Fazekas, Tara Butters, and Tracy Bellomo. Fox. 15 Jan. 2010. Twentieth Century Fox, 2010. DVD.

“Instinct.” Dollhouse. Writ. Michele Fazekas and Tara Butters. Fox. 2 Oct. 2009. Twentieth Century Fox, 2010. DVD.

Jung, C. G. The Earth Has a Soul: The Nature Writings of C.G. Jung. Ed. Meredith Sabini. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic, 2002. Print.

Noble, David F. The Religion of Technology: The Divinity of Man and the Spirit of Invention. New York: A.A. Knopf, 1997. Print.

“Omega.” Dollhouse. Writ. Tim Minear. Fox. 8 May 2009. Twentieth Century Fox, 2009. DVD.

Roszak, Theodore. The Voice of the Earth. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992. Print.

Slater, Glen. “CYBORGIAN DRIFT: RESISTANCE IS NOT FUTILE.” Psyche & Nature. Vol. 75. New Orleans, LA: Spring: A Journal of Archetype and Culture, 2006. 171-95. Print.

Slattery, Dennis. The Wounded Body: Remembering the Markings of Flesh. Albany: State University of New York, 2000. Print.

“A Spy in the House of Love.” Dollhouse. Writ. Andrew Chambliss. Fox. 10 Apr. 2009. Twentieth Century Fox, 2009. DVD.

Whedon, Joss. Writ. “Man on the Streets.” Dollhouse. Audio Commentary. Twentieth Century Fox, 2009. DVD

Facing the Apocalypse

Posted on September 26, 2012 by mythgirl under Buffyverse, Grad School, Mythology, Pop Culture, Whedonverse, Words for Wednesday, Writing

In my Words for Wednesday post last week, I shared a paper about Angel the TV series. Continuing with that theme, here is a paper I wrote about Angel and DH Lawrence’s Apocalypse in 2009 for the graduate course “Approaches to the Study of Myth.” As is often the case in my academic writing, this was written for an audience unfamiliar with the Whedon-verse. This paper was accepted for presentation at the Slayage 5 conference, but I was unable to attend. Had I had the opportunity, I would have revamped it for the Whedon-y audience. Nevertheless, here’s the original paper.

In the television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the spin-off series Angel, Joss Whedon created what scholars and fans commonly refer to as the “Buffyverse.” In this verse, Whedon presents a compelling mythology filled with heroic quests and powerful metaphors for modern society. One of the metaphors present throughout the Buffyverse is the Apocalypse. This threat appears so often that Buffy’s boyfriend in season four finds himself needing to know “the plural of Apocalypse” (“New”). Buffy constantly thwarts the coming of the Apocalypse. She does whatever it takes, even sacrificing her own life, as a variety of foes try to bring forth the end of the world. In the final season of Angel, however, the Apocalypse is more than a threat. An old foe explains to Angel, “You’re soaking in it. Not an apocalypse. The Apocalypse” (“Underneath”). Despite his best attempts, Angel will not avert the Apocalypse. His hero’s journey does not end with a triumphant dissemination of the boon and the mastery of the two worlds, as Joseph Campbell proposes for all heroes. The final scene of Angel depicts frightful demons and beasts arriving in Los Angeles. The Apocalypse is here and Whedon is showing viewers how to face it.

As D.H. Lawrence indicates, the notion of the Apocalypse has been around since at least “second century B.C.” and it continues to speak to the human consciousness (79). Campbell asserts that the Apocalypse remains a modern concern. He also explains, “We must not understand apocalypse literally, not as some physical destruction and judgment on the world, or as something that is going to occur in the future. The kingdom is here; it does not come through expectation” (Campbell, Thou 106). As the kingdom is here, so too is the Apocalypse. We breathe life into it through our concern about it. Lawrence explains the simple definition of Apocalypse as “Revelation” (59). What truth, then, does the Apocalypse reveal? In Campbell’s discussion, he indicates that the Apocalypse is the end of “our ignorance and our complacency” (107). Quite simply, the Apocalypse can be read as the end of things as we know them. It is, therefore, the quintessential metaphor of change and transformation.

How are we to live with the metaphorical Apocalypse, the ever-looming threat of change and destruction? Whedon and Lawrence provide us with the same answer through their respective metaphors and criticism. While Lawrence focuses specifically on the Apocalypse as depicted in the Bible and discusses it in relation to reality, Whedon utilizes his fictional realm to reveal elements of the Apocalypse. Both approaches are constructive and valuable. Comparing these two texts achieves two purposes: an attitude of how to approach the metaphorical Apocalypse, and a demonstration that our television screens have the potential to present us with great mythic images.

In the first season of Angel, the heroic vampire with a soul has left Buffy behind in Sunnydale and moved to the dark, demon-infested city of Los Angeles. Angel eventually forms the team “Angel Investigations” to “help the helpless” against the supernatural horrors that occur. His early team consists of two humans, Cordelia Chase and Wesley Wyndham-Price. At the end of the first season, Wesley discovers the Shanshu-Prophecy, which reveals that one day the vampire with a soul will become human. The prophecy clearly indicates that many battles lie ahead of Angel and his team. He must, “survive the coming darkness, the apocalyptic battles, a few plagues and [several] fiends that will be unleashed” (“Shanshu”). Nevertheless, the promise of that tantalizing reward lingers throughout the entire series

D.H. Lawrence explains, “What man most passionately wants is his living wholeness and his living unison . . . For man . . . the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive. Whatever the unborn and the dead may know, they cannot know the beauty, the marvel of being alive in the flesh” (149). Throughout the five seasons of Angel, viewers see his desire to return to a human body. He longs for the beating of his heart, the ability to walk out of the shadows, and the opportunity to pass from this life naturally. His immortality is a burden. However, he accepts that burden to atone for the evils he committed during his century as a vampire without a soul. Angel knows he must first “fulfill his destiny,” as the prophecy indicates (“Shanshu”).

Through the many battles that Angel encounters, the largest foe he faces is the law firm Wolfram and Hart. The clientele of the firm are demons, and the firm works across a multitude of demon-filled dimensions. In fact, they are brokering the Apocalypse. The firm represents Lawrence’s notion: “The [modern] community is inhuman, and less than human” (71). Wolfram and Hart serve as the perfect metaphor as they present a pitiless community awaiting the Apocalypse. The Shanshu prophecy indicates that Angel will be a major player in the Apocalypse, though it does not dictate if he will be on the side of good or evil. For this reason, Wolfram and Hart are in a constant struggle to maneuver Angel to their side so that he will help bring forth the Apocalypse.

For the first four seasons of the series, Wolfram and Hart put Angel to the test, constantly interfering with his heroic aims. At the close of season four, Wolfram and Hart offer Angel a deal he cannot refuse. When Angel’s son Connor is on the verge of suicide and destruction, the firm offers to grant him a truly fresh start. They will mystically replace Connor’s memories and place him in a happy and nurturing home, away from Angel and away from any danger. In return, Angel must work for the firm. Angel accepts this offer without hesitation, believing he will both save his son and be able to fight against evil from within the belly of the beast. His team accepts the offer as well, for varying personal reasons. At this point, his team consists of the humans Wesley Wyndham-Price, Winifred “Fred” Burkle, Charles Gunn, and the empath demon Lorne. Each ultimately pays a price for this deal.

In season five, Angel gains two powerful allies. One is the resurrected Spike, who himself died averting an apocalypse in Sunnydale in the final season of Buffy. Wolfram and Hart resurrect Spike, the only other vampire with a soul. Though the history of Spike and Angel’s two century relationship is rocky at best, they learn to collaborate in their fight against evil. Angel’s other ally is the god-king Illyria. Unfortunately, her resurrection causes the death of the beloved Fred, whose body she uses as a shell. While Illyria is mostly unpredictable and highly self-seeking, she chooses to fight on Angel’s side in the final battle. Spike and Illyria are the strongest members in Angel’s camp, key to his fight against Wolfram and Hart.

Angel ultimately works to earn a seat with the Black Thorn, a group associated with the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart, working toward the Apocalypse. Once Angel joins the Circle, there is one catch –they ask him to sign away the Shanshu Prophecy. Angel does so without hesitation, giving up any chance of ever becoming human and receiving his hard-earned redemption. After five years of fighting the evil in Los Angeles and working towards atonement, Angel gives up his only opportunity to return to his human state.

Angel represents the hero that Lawrence thought was gone. In his time, Lawrence perceived “society [as] a mass of weak individuals trying to protect themselves [and therefore] bringing the evil into being” (72). He saw men “turn[ing] against the heroic appeal” (72). Lawrence discusses a consistent weakening of humanity across democracies. While some may disagree in the continual demise of the greater human society over time, it stands true that today society continues to struggle and needs heroes. Lawrence concludes Apocalypse with the assertion that we are not individuals but “part of the great human soul” (149). Angel represents this notion as he takes responsibility for humanity, surrendering himself for the greater good.

After joining the Black Thorn and signing away his personal boon of becoming human, Angel explains to his team, “We are weak. The powerful control everything except our will to choose . . . heroes don’t accept the world the way it is. The Senior Partners may be eternal, but we can make their existence painful . . . We’re in a machine. The Black Thorn runs it. We can bring their gears to a grinding halt, even if it’s just for a moment” (“Power”). His plan is to kill every member of the Black Thorn, knowing that he and his team will probably not survive. Angel is willing to surrender everything in order to avert the Apocalypse, or at least inhibit its harbingers.

Lawrence explains, “Power is there, and always will be. As soon as two or three men come together, especially to do something, then power comes into being, and one man is a leader, a master. It is inevitable” (68). Wolfram and Hart, in addition to the Black Thorn, hold a great power. They are a seemingly indestructible force. Even though Angel can wipe out the Black Thorn, Wolfram and Hart are far reaching. Nevertheless, Angel is the master of his group, and they all unequivocally agree to fight the Black Thorn with him. He is using his position of power to destroy a greater position of power that is destructive against humanity. Lawrence discusses the idea that “nowadays, the will to destroy power is paramount” (69). While Wolfram and Hart have the power to orchestrate the Apocalypse, Angel possesses the strong will to fight against this iniquitous power.

In the series’ finale “Not Fade Away,” Angel and his small cohort successfully attack the members of the Black Thorn. In this penultimate fight, one member kills Wesley and others mortally wound Gunn. In the final scene, Angel gathers in an alley with Illyria, Spike, and a dying Gunn. Though the team successfully eliminated every member of the Black Thorn, Wolfram and Hart will not tolerate this defiance: they open the gates of hell and bring forth the Apocalypse. An assortment of demons descends upon the alley. It does not seem likely that Angel and his remaining allies will survive. Angel indicates the plan simply: “We fight.” Spike requests something a “bit more specific.” With a look of triumph, Angel asserts, “Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon.” At this moment, the horde closes in on them and Angel commands, “Let’s go to work!” (“Not”). As Angel makes the first swing of his sword, the screen fades abruptly to black.

Angel’s desire to go after the dragon speaks to Lawrence’s analysis of the “evil potency” demonstrated in the “red dragon” (125). Lawrence asserts that today “it must once more be slain by the heroes” (125). As Jung always demonstrates and Lawrence stresses, “Man thought and still thinks in images” (93). While the dragon is a “complex and universal symbol,” the “killing [of] the dragon is the conflict between light and darkness, the slaying of the destructive forces of evil” (Cooper 55 and 56). Angel’s choice here speaks symbolically to his position as the hero, his epic fight against evil, and the arrival of the Apocalypse.

Unlike the Apocalypse of Revelation, the Apocalypse in Angel is never seen. The audience does not know what happens next. Upon the initial airing of this finale, many viewers were shocked and disappointed. As Lawrence explains, “We always want a ‘conclusion,’ an end¸ we always
want to come, in our mental processes, to a decision, a finality, a full-stop. This gives us a sense of satisfaction” (93). Whedon’s decision to fade to black before the battle begins is, for this very reason, brilliant. He did not give the viewers a Hollywood ending; he did not even give them the satisfaction of knowing the outcome. He made viewers uncomfortable and, most importantly, contemplative. We do not see the epic battle, but Angel’s words “Let’s go to work” will resonate forever.

Throughout the Angel series, one undertone that stands out is simply to fight the good fight. Angel lost many great soldiers on the road to season five, including Cordelia, and loses even more in the belly of the beast. This, however, is the nature of war and the nature of life. Lawrence’s point is that this life is our life, the collective life. Angel is aware of this. Whatever the outcome may be, the life of humanity is worth the fight. His decisions echo Lawrence’s ideas in his famous conclusion to Apocalypse:

My soul knows that I am part of the human race, my soul is an organic part of the great human soul, as my spirit is part of my nation. In my own very self, I am part of my family. There is nothing of me that is alone and absolute except my mind, and we shall find that the mind has no existence by itself, it is only the glitter of the sun on the surface of the waters. (149)

Lawrence accentuates the interconnectedness of humans, emphasizing that we ultimately share one great soul. Angel is one example of the hero that fights for that universal soul.

After an in-depth discussion of the Apocalypse, an analysis of Revelation, and a tirade against Christianity, Lawrence has one thing to offer: hope. Likewise, after five seasons of fighting evil, and in the face of the greatest battle, Angel offers this same optimism. The love for humanity and the willingness to sacrifice everything is the essence of Angel’s soul. While he may not have regained his human form, he certainly earns his redemption. He has proved himself as a hero filled with humanity and he has inspired those by his side to fight the good fight, whatever the cost.

Essentially, D.H. Lawrence’s Apocalypse is a cry for the hero to re-emerge in the community. In his conclusion, Lawrence is teaching others how to live, thereby himself fulfilling the role of the hero. Campbell instructs, “All societies are evil, sorrowful, inequitable; and so they will always be. So if you want to help this world, what you will have to teach is how to live in it. And that no one can do who has not himself learned how to live in it in the joyful sorrow and sorrowful joy of the knowledge of life as it is” (Campbell, Myths to Live By 104). Lawrence demonstrates this achievement. He acknowledges the bitterness of life, the descent of community, and the bleakness of Revelation. Yet it has not marred him. He sees the beauty in the sun, in the cosmos, and directs individuals to start there. He is calling other heroes to action.

In our time, as in Lawrence’s time, there is a need for heroes. In our modern society, we are blessed with real heroes and fictional heroes. The story of the hero is the story of each of us. It is, as Campbell so beautifully articulates, the monomyth. This monomyth will continuously transform to the demands and the reality of the present time. This is why we continually seek it; the monomyth instructs us on how to live. In our present time, pop-culture is arguably the most dominate and influential modern storytelling source. There is an up rise and constant retelling of the hero myth in pop-culture, as demonstrated in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Such stories, whether they are in the form of television, film, or text, are tapping into the great symbols and metaphors of myths. They are opening a gateway to discussions of community, heroics, morality, and existence.

Angel brings to focus the journey of the hero and the threat of the Apocalypse. As Lawrence and Campbell discuss, this is not a literal threat of the world ending, yet the threat of change to the world as we know it. Through Angel, Whedon takes the symbol of the Apocalypse and uses it to show humanity how to exist in this beautiful and frightening life, in the same manner that Lawrence does in his Apocalypse. Together, these texts offer a modern conversation on a timeless concern.

Works Cited

Campbell, Joseph. Myths to Live By. New York: Penguin, 1972.

— Thou Art That. Novato: New World Library, 2001.

Cooper, J.C. “Dragon.” An Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols. London: Thames & Hudson, 1978.

Lawrence, D.H. Apocalypse. New York: Penguin, 1931.

“A New Man.” Writ. Jane Espenson. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. WB. 25 Jan. 2000.

“Not Fade Away.” Writ. Joss Whedon and Jeffrey Bell. Angel WB. 19 May 2004.

“Power Play.” Writ. David Fury. Angel WB. 12 May 2004.

“To Shanshu in L.A.” Writ. David Greenwalt. Angel. WB. 23 May 2000.

“Underneath.” Writ. Sarah Fain and Elizabeth Craft. Angel. WB. 14 April 2004.

Works Consulted

Abott, Stacey. Reading Angel: The TV Spin-Off with a Soul. New York: I.B. Tauris, 2005.

Boxall, Ian. “The Reality of Apocalypse: Rhetoric and Politics in the Book of Revelation.” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 29.5 (July 2007): 116-117. Religion and Philosophy Collection. EBSCO. Pacifica’s Graduate Library. Carpinteria, CA. 22 Mar. 2009 http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=rlh&AN=25786290&site= ehost-live

Callahan, Allen Dwight. “The language of Apocalypse.” Harvard Theological Review 88.4 (Oct. 1995): 453. Humanities International Complete. EBSCO. Pacifica’s Graduate Library. Carpinteria, CA. 22 Mar. 2009 http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db =hlh&AN=9606030624&site=ehost-live

Moore, Harry T. “Apocalypse and the Writings on Revelation/ D.H. Lawrence.” Modern Language Review 77.2 (Apr. 1982): 433-435. Humanities International Complete. EBSCO. Pacifica’s Graduate Library. Carpinteria, CA. 21 Mar. 2009 http://search.ebsco host.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=hlh&AN=17537987&site=ehost-live

Scherr, Barry J. “CHAPTER TWO: Lawrence’s Quarrel with the Jews.” 97-170. Peter Lang Publishing, Inc., 2004. Humanities International Complete. EBSCO. Pacifica’s Graduate Library. Carpinteria, CA. 22 Mar. 2009 http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct= true&db=hlh&AN=19587975&site=ehost-live

Stafford, Nikki. Once Bitten: An Unofficial Guide to the World of Angel. Toronto: ECW Press, 2004.

Depth Psychology and Culture

Posted on August 9, 2012 by mythgirl under Buffyverse, Grad School, Mythology, Pop Culture, Psychology, Whedonverse, Writing

In celebration and honor of passing the comprehensive exams in my Master’s program in Mythological Studies and Depth Psychology, I’m sharing each essay I wrote. Here’s the final one. Here I was required to look at a piece of popular culture or media from a mythological and depth psychological perspective. Of course, I turned to Whedon, and then to my dear blue friend, Illyria. The handful of episodes she is in are amazingly dynamic and loaded. For more on Illyria –and here comes my shameless plug– check out Joss Whedon: The Complete Companion for my piece, “Touch Me and Die, Vermin!”: The Psychoanalysis of Illyria.

Myth and Psychology in Angel

Television shows offer a great avenue for telling mythological stories with detailed characters and events unfolding over a period of time. Series such as Angel provide viewers with a mythology that is as rich as those developed in ancient texts. A spin-off of the popular series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel captured viewers’ attention for five seasons as it explored the individual journeys of each main character in its ensemble cast. Throughout my course work at Pacifica, I have explored the mythological elements of this series. I examined thecharacter Angel as the modern Oedipus (Greek and Roman I), explored the series Angel as a Tragedy (Greek and Roman II), and examined the role and significance of the Apocalypse in Angel in relation to DH Lawrence’s Apocalypse (Approaches to the Study of Myth). Through this research, I have found the most provocative mythological and psychological storyline in Angel occurs in season five with the characters Wesley and Illyria.

One of the main characters in Angel is Wesley Wyndham Price. He is a human that works with the vampire Angel in this series about a group of misfits that fight against the dark supernatural forces in Los Angeles. Wesley falls in love with the human Winifred “Fred” Burkle, but Fred’s body is overtaken by the godking Illyria (an old one who once ruled in the world at the beginning of time). As Wesley mourns the loss of his love, he has to deal with the unpredictable godking who has replaced her. Illyria has one simple goal: to regain her full powers (beyond what her human vessel can contain) and reclaim her rule over the world. She believes she is better than humans. Her character is representative of the god complex, and as her ego faces defeat, Illyria comes to know emotional pain.

Joseph Campbell asserts that pain is a part of our humanity: “The impact of this horror on a sensitive consciousness is terrific – this monster which is life. Life is a horrendous presence, and you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that” (Pathways 3). This idea is illustrated throughout the Angel series quite often as all the characters face dangerous trials and tribulations. It is accentuated in the character of Illyria as she undergoes a great transformation and explores human emotions. Furthermore, the storyline with Wesley and Illyria includes the four functions of mythology, which Joseph Campbell asserts must be present in a traditional mythology, and which address living with the “horrendous presence” of life. Historically, a mythology itself would provide these four functions (discussed in detail below) for the members of a given a society. In the popular culture form, the mythology of Angel depicts the four functions within the story itself, allowing audience members to see the characters grapple with matters they can relate to. Though humans do not literally face the supernatural forces characterized in Angel, the truth of these battles exists in our daily lives as we struggle to live in this world.

According to Campbell, the first function of a mythology is cosmological and requires the individual to look at the mystery of the world and make some type of reconciliation with it (Pathways 104). Illyria and Wesley must make reconciliation with the world as it is, especially after they have both suffered great losses: she is no longer a ruler, and he no longer has the love of his life. This process of reconciliation may be even more difficult for Illyria because her previous status exempted her from human emotions. Though Wesley never suffered such a tragic loss as the death of Fred, he is at least familiar with the pain and misery of living in a world filled with disappointment, loss, and death.

In Illyria’s first appearance in the episode “Shells,” she is quick to express her views of the human experience as she examines Wesley mourning the loss of Fred: “This is grief. I’m watching human grief. It’s like offal in my mouth.” In a following comment, she declares, “Your breed is fragile.” In this early observation, Illyria quickly distinguishes herself from humans. However, by the end of the episode, Illyria learns her temple and army are destroyed, and she painfully expresses, “My world is gone.” She suffers disappointment, something she never felt as a godking. At this time of her defeat, she is really being born into this human world, and the first connection between her and Wesley occurs when he replies, “Now you know how I feel.”

Struggling through this cosmological stage, Illyria analyzes the world around her and concludes, “I’ve nowhere to go. My kingdom is long dead. There’s so much I don’t understand. I’ve become overwhelmed. I’m unsure of my place. But I exist here. I must learn to walk in this world.” Anyone who has suffered a significant loss can understand Illyria’s feelings. It is at this point that she formally asks a hesitant Wesley to be her guide. He agrees, and they both try to re-establish their place in the world. At this point, Wesley’s role also exhibits the fourth function of myth, which will be discussed below.

After acknowledging the harsh truths of reality, Illyria moves toward “[t]he second function [of mythology which] serves to present a universe within which the mystery as understood will be present, so that everywhere you look at it, as it were, a holy picture, [opens] up in back to the great mystery” (Campbell, Pathways 105). After looking at the mystery of creation, the individual begins to look at the meaning or significance of the self in this world. Illyria despises her human form, and as she examines the world around her, she feels trapped. Wesley takes her to a rooftop to offer some breathing room, though she still complains: “Your world is so small. And yet you box yourselves in rooms even smaller. You shut yourselves inside, in rooms, in routines” (“Underneath”). As Wesley tries to discuss the difficulties of existence that lie beyond the walls, Illyria begins to demonstrate the humanity she too “reeks” of, finally concluding, “We are so weak (italics mine).” Her ego is beginning to recognize that she is no longer a godking.

As Illyria continues her earthbound struggle, “The third, sociological function of mythology [which] gives you laws for living within your own society” appears (Campbell Pathways 107). This function encourages the development of a moral code. As her guide, Wesley has been trying to explain the differences between right and wrong to Illyria. When Illyria first chooses to participate in the climactic apocalyptic battle the protagonists face, her motives are not altruistic. Illyria herself explains, “I’ve been broken and humiliated. I will return in kind every blow, every sting. I will shred my adversaries. Pull their eyes out just enough to turn them towards their mewing, mutilated faces” (“Not Fade Away”). She is still controlled by her desire to assert her power. However, when Wesley dies in battle, Illyria begins to get in touch with her humanity. She mourns for him and expresses, “I’m feeling grief for him. I can’t seem to control it.” Illyria’s response to his death demonstrates she has developed the ability to emotionally connect. She is just starting to move beyond her own desires and function within the society she has found herself in.

Illyria provides an unadulterated view of human struggles, and Wesley shows how to deal with the passage of life from birth to death, fulfilling the fourth and final psychological function of mythology. According to Campbell, “All societies are evil, sorrowful, inequitable; and so they will always be. So if you want to help this world, what you will have to teach is how to live in it. And that no one can do who has not himself learned how to live in it in the joyful sorrow and sorrowful joy of the knowledge of life as it is” (Myths to Live By 104). Once exposed to the human condition, we are all subject to the same vulnerabilities. This shared experience makes us all equal; no one is “above” the pleasures or the pain of it all. Wesley’s key role here is to teach Illyria learn to live in this world, while he manages his own suffering. It is important to note that it is not through any supernatural powers but through their choices that the characters in Angel, particularly Wesley, are defined as heroes. The greatest choice is the one to continue to face the despair in the world and to continue to fight for the world in spite of the pain. Throughout the series, and as seen in this storyline, Angel not only functions as mythology, but depicts ways to accept the pain of life. Campbell emphasizes that, “All life stinks, and you must embrace that with compassion” (Pathways 77).

Illyria makes negative comments about humanity that viewers can relate to, and one could ask why anyone would want to be human and experience all the suffering. However, it is through the pain that human life becomes magnificent. In a unique depiction of the four functions of mythology, Illyria reveals the terrifying truths of living in this world. By embracing life as the brutal force it is, being a part of it, and willing to sacrifice it honorably, Wesley depicts humanity is at its best.

Wesley, who had stated that he did not intend to die in this battle, gave his life for Angel’s worthy cause in “Not Fade Away,” the series’ finale that emphasizes the underlying theme to the series, to fight the good fight (both physically and mentally). His nobility portrays the importance of their stand against dark forces. Finally, Wesley’s sacrifice stands out because he still sought to live and fight alongside Angel despite all the recent pain he suffered. The strength of his character throughout all five seasons of Angel demonstrates a true hero and an inspiring image of humanity. Though he did not survive the final battle, one can hope that his guidance will live on through Illyria and through the viewers.

Works Cited

Campbell, Joseph. Myths to Live By. New York: Penguin, 1972.

— Pathways to Bliss. Novato: New World, 2004.

“Not Fade Away.” Writ. Joss Whedon and Jeffrey Bell. Angel. WB. 19 May 2004.

“Shells.” Writ. Stephen S. DeKnight. Angel. WB. 3 March 2004.

“Underneath.” Writ. Sarah Fain and Elizabeth Craft. Angel. WB. 14 Apr. 2004.

Myth and Literature

Posted on August 8, 2012 by mythgirl under Books, Grad School, Mythology, Writing

In celebration and honor of passing the comprehensive exams in my Master’s program in Mythological Studies and Depth Psychology, I’m sharing each essay I wrote. Here’s my second piece. This was a very open topic. I had to discuss a piece of literature from a mythological perspective. I decided to tackle something I’ve had a personal struggle with: Frodo’s final action in The Lord of the Rings. I already know many disagree with my analysis here, as small chats with close friends have revealed. I’m not looking to argue my point. This is just the way I see Frodo. I wrote this with the following comment from one of my profs in my mind: “You are such a competent, clean writer that I sometimes wished for something a little riskier or edgy.”

The Role of the Monomyth in The Lord of the Rings

The Lord of the Rings is hailed as one of the greatest pieces of literature from the twentieth century. It also functions as a beautiful mythology. It contains a supernatural realm, heroes, personal and collective journeys, and battles between good and evil. Though the characters range from hobbits to elves, they are akin to humans and share our experiences with life and death and all the emotions in between. Like any great myth, The Lord of the Rings transcends time and depicts the human condition. One of the central features of any myth is the hero. There are many heroes in The Lord of the Rings as nine members volunteer in The Fellowship of the Ring to take the ring to Mordor to be destroyed. Along the way, they meet many other admirable and fine characters who aid them in their quest. The quest to destroy the ring and save Middle Earth is the main storyline of the trilogy. The ring bearer, Frodo Baggins, is arguably one of the predominant main characters in this epic story. He is the one who carries the weight of the ring, and the safety of Middle Earth rests on his small, humble shoulders. A close examination of Frodo’s movement through Joseph Campbell’s monomyth reveals that although Middle Earth is saved, Frodo himself is a failed hero.

Joseph Campbell’s monomyth, famously defined throughout his text The Hero with a Thousand Faces, provides the structure that he found to exist in mythologies across time and cultures. The monomyth tracks the pattern of the hero on a quest. Campbell indicates that the patterns may shift in order and be presented in various ways, but accentuates that all mythological heroes must move through a separation, initiation, and return. Frodo certainly embarks on a quest that separates him from his known world, is initiated through his road of trials, and returns home. However, Campbell also emphasizes the inner journey that must occur on this heroic quest, and it is from that perspective that Frodo fails.

Frodo’s call to adventure begins when the wizard Gandalf asks him to get the ring out of The Shire, the simple hillside where he and the other hobbits live. Frodo’s initial aid is his friend Samwise Gamgee. They are soon accompanied by Frodo’s cousins Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. Frodo’s crossing of the first threshold occurs when they nearly encounter Ringwraiths in The Shire and flee into the Old Forest. The small hobbits are leaving their known world and really beginning their adventure. They continue to travel to new places, as when they enter Bree, but they always receive assistance when needed. In the Old Forest they meet the helpful spirit Tom Bombadil, and in Bree they meet the ranger Aragorn, who remains by Frodo’s side through the first book of the trilogy. Frodo’s separation is clear and follows the elements mapped out by Campbell.

As the hero continues the quest, he will be immersed in the belly of the whale and go through a road of trials. The belly of the whale provides that final separation from the world the hero came from. In the Shire, Frodo had nothing to fear and knew nothing of pain. But on the hill of Weathertop, Frodo is mortally stabbed by a Ringwraith. The injury consumes Frodo as he falls into a world of shadows. Frodo is taken to Rivendell and saved by the elves, but this encounter has truly marked his initiation. The Fellowship of the Ring is then formed in Rivendell, and he gains a total of eight companions. Together, the fellowship undergoes many hardships. Frodo, specifically, nearly faces death again in the Mines of Moria and loses his companion, Gandalf, to a demonic Balrog. Frodo and the remainder of the Fellowship find refuge, again from elves, in Lothlorien. It is here where Frodo has his meeting with the goddess, as Campbell phrased it. The goddess is represented by the great elf Galadriel. She fills Frodo with hope and also offers him and each of his companions a supernatural aid. Though Campbell indicates supernatural aid is received in the separation phase of the journey, this departure from the monomyth demonstrates that the different elements can appear in varying order. Through the separation-initiation-return path, the hero can be tossed about between aids and trials various times.

A key element seen in the hero’s trials is temptation. This often takes shape with the woman as temptress, but is ultimately anything that tempts the hero to wander from his quest. The ring itself provides Frodo with the greatest temptation imaginable. Forged by Sauron, the ring seeks to do the bidding of the dark lord. If Frodo puts the ring on, he can be seen by Sauron and the Ringwraiths. Caving into this temptation threatens his very life and the future of Middle Earth. However, the desire to wear the ring grows heavier and heavier as Frodo continues to be the bearer of the ring.

Through the trials the Fellowship faces, Frodo flees from his companions and seeks to go to Mordor alone, though he is accompanied still by his dearest friend, Samwise. Throughout the novel, readers become aware of Gollum, another creature drawn to the power of the ring, who wore it for years, hidden away in a cave. When Frodo and Sam catch Gollum following them, they capture the pathetic creature. Out of the mercy Frodo learned from his uncle, Bilbo, Frodo never harms Gollum. Driven by the power of the ring, Gollum later tries to have Frodo killed by the giant spider Shelob. Though his attempt fails, he escapes the hobbits and eventually Frodo and Sam enter Mordor with the ring alone.

In Campbell’s monomyth, after undergoing the various trials of initiation, the hero experiences apotheosis. This can consist of a literal or figurative death, but the hero ultimately unites opposites and achieves his quest. This should be followed by receiving a boon to disseminate to the world and ultimately end with the hero returning to the home he left at the beginning of the myth. Often this return includes the hero refusing to return and being rescued from without. This is an important component to the monomyth and to the personal development, typically a form of individuation, which the hero is to achieve.

After surviving many life-threatening experiences, Frodo and Sam enter the Cracks of Doom, their ultimate destination. Now, Frodo must simply toss the ring into the fires to defeat Sauron and protect all of Middle Earth from the return of his evil reign. At this climatic moment, however, the power of the ring finally possesses Frodo, and he places the ring on his finger. He has claimed the power of the ring for himself and abandoned his quest. The weight on him has been very heavy, and it is unfortunate that he surrenders when he is so close to such a great achievement. However, Tolkien then provides what he coined a eucatastrophe: when all seems lost, there is a sudden turn of events. Gollum, spared by Frodo’s mercy, shows up unexpectedly, attacks Frodo, and claims the ring. In his unbound enthusiasm, however, Gollum falls into the pits of the fire with the ring, thus destroying himself, the ring, and Sauron. Frodo completed his quest in getting the ring to Mount Doom, and he carried a heavy weight on his shoulders throughout the book; however, ultimately the weight of the ring was too much for him to bear. Middle Earth was saved by chance, which was made possible by Frodo’s mercy (an action that speaks greatly to Tolkien’s Catholic background). Nevertheless, Frodo failed to achieve apotheosis, wherein the hero recognizes the divine within himself.

Frodo and Sam do continue on the hero’s journey when they receive rescue from without and, after more trials, are able to return to their home in The Shire, which is unfortunately not in the condition they left it in. With the aid of the other hobbits, Frodo and Sam are able to reclaim The Shire and restore peace and happiness for its inhabitants. Throughout Middle Earth, there is much joy. Other main characters survive the battles, including Gandalf, who returns from the pits of Moria where he had been consumed. The couple Arwen and Aragorn and the couple Eowyn and Faramir are granted a standard happily ever after. Middle Earth has been saved, for everyone except for Frodo. He does not get to become the master of the two worlds, as Campbell indicates. His physical and psychological scars are too deep. Frodo has been returned, but he remains broken. After trying to maintain life in The Shire, Frodo decides he cannot remain there. He lives in great pain, and his time with the ring has extended the length of his life. Accompanied by Bilbo, Frodo sails to Valinor, the Undying Lands. Valinor is the land of the elves, and they have granted Frodo and Bilbo, both ring bearers, safe passage for the weight the ring had on them both. The elves mercy, like Frodo’s mercy for Gollum, grant him a place to find peace and finally find recovery.

The Lord of the Rings offers an undeniable mythology with a variety of characters whom can each be explored in their own right. Frodo is often heralded as the hero of the story, so it is important to examine how he fits the role. Campbell has demonstrated the importance of the hero and outlined the hero’s typical journey. This journey has occurred in mythology time and time again throughout all cultures. It is a significant journey, and one that will have variations. The variations Frodo experiences in the return, however, indicate that the mercy he granted Gollum led to the final defeat of Sauron, but that his personal failures prevented him from gaining the personal boon of the hero.

Works Consulted

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton, NJ: Princeton, UP. 1972.

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Lord of the Rings. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1967.

Mythology & Religious Tradition

Posted on August 7, 2012 by mythgirl under Grad School, Mythology, Writing

In celebration and honor of passing the comprehensive exams in my Master’s program in Mythological Studies and Depth Psychology, I’m going to share each essay I wrote. First up is a little piece where I was required to define mythology while integrating the thoughts of two significant figures and one religious tradition. Ya know, nothin’ big.

Defining Myth:
Joseph Campbell, Ginette Paris & The Buddhist Tradition

Joseph Campbell provides an excellent overview of mythology in The Hero of a Thousand Faces. He explores different facets of the hero’s journey while providing examples from mythologies around the world. His monomyth of the hero has become a building block for current mythological studies. It is clear that the human experience is not bound by culture or by time. Mythologies speak to individuals because they resonate with the soul, touching archetypes we all understand, consciously or unconsciously.

As the study of mythology has moved into the twenty-first century, thinkers such as Ginette Paris have integrated the study of mythology and depth-psychology. In her works, she makes it clear that myths, our human stories, provide “the images that open the heart and make us see what is right there in our psychological reality” (163). We can find this in art and literature, as Paris identifies. Mythology is not restricted to the stories of the past from Rome or Greece. In one important definition (presented in an introductory text on Buddhism), Damien Keown explains that myth “does not mean something that is false,” (7) which is unfortunately a common use of the term today. Instead, “myths are stories which have a compelling force by virtue of their ability to work simultaneously on several levels” (7). They are also “metaphorical” and contain “universal truths” (8).

One place where we can find mythology and identify these truths is in religion. One Eastern tradition in particular, Buddhism, is working its way into the consciousness of the West and allowing us to reimagine our definitions of mythology and religion. For both mythology and religion to function in a society, they must speak these spiritual truths to the people of the community in a relatable manner. In Old Path White Clouds,Buddha directs his students to understand that, “The Dharma must be applicable to present life, and compatible with local culture” (Nhat Hanh 462). Likewise, Joseph Campbell indicates that, “The myth has to deal with the cosmology of the day and it’s no good when it’s based on a cosmology that’s out of date” (Hero’s Journey, 43). So while the elements of the myths are timeless, all myths do not necessarily remain accessible. For example, when some modern readers pick up a copy of Oedipus Rex, the events that play out may not resonate with them. They may not be able to relate to the antiquated palace setting. However, when those same modern readers watch a television series such Angel, which at times explores the same Oedipal issues in a modern setting, they may find the truths in the story more accessible. Though it is certain that not all modern fiction provides the metaphysical, cosmological, sociological, and psychological functions of mythology (as identified by Campbell), there are many films, television series, and works of literature that do provide them. Mythology surrounds us today. The form and matter of mythology changes and grows with the culture, but they will always speak the same truths.

Mythology speaks to the imagination, depicts the human condition, demonstrates a hero on a journey, and provides readers/listeners/viewers with guidance. As Campbell indicates, “we have not even to risk the adventure alone; for the heroes of all time have gone before us… where we had thought to travel outward, we shall come to the center of our own existence; where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world (Thousand Faces 25). This shared experience and oneness with the world that Campbell identifies is strongly present in the Buddhist tradition. Paris emphasizes the same idea of oneness in a footnote when she indicates that “there is no tight boundary between me and others, me and the world” (231). The Buddhist text Old Path White Clouds explores the seminal idea of oneness as Thich Nhat Hanh tells the story of the Buddha’s life on earth. It is irrelevant whether the Buddha walked on this earth or if the details in the book are historically accurate. The story of the Buddha is itself is a myth. It is not about literal truth but spiritual truth. The spirit itself transcends terms like “Buddhism” and “religion” as it points to the universal human condition. All religions, as all mythologies, point to the same truths about our experiences. In The Hero’s Journey, Campbell further defines mythology: “The images of myth are not fact, they are metaphors; and the reference is to transcendence. They take the facts of life and relate them to the psyche” (43).

The influx of Buddhism in the Modern American culture points to elements of unity, oneness, and mindfulness that our hustle and bustle culture has arguably been lacking. Buddhism, as both a religion and a mythology, presents the functions of mythology, offering individuals with texts and concepts that provide ways to cultivate the mind in ways that are new to many Westerners. Many Buddhist texts are accessible to Western readers, and some even integrate our foundational religion: Christianity. In books such as Jesus and Buddha as Brothers and Living Buddha, Living Christ, Thich Nhat Hanh emphasizes a growing idea: inclusivity instead of exclusivity (a notion that also includes religious tolerance). The Dalai Lama also emphasizes in his writings that a belief in the Buddha and his teachings does not negate a belief in Christ and his teachings, and vice versa. Mythologies point to truths of human existence, but they are most effective when they do not exclude other mythologies. Each mythology and religion offers a piece of the truth. Essentially, we are each on our own hero’s journey through life and, as Campbell asserted, the myths can guide us on that journey.

A significant part of our lives’ journey is also the process of individuating, something Ginette Paris and other Jungians point to. The steps to individuation, which Jungians define as “the ultimate goal of human life” (Walker 33), bare many similarities to the Buddhist path of Enlightenment, Nirvana, or “self-realization,” whose goal is to “put an end to suffering and rebirth” (Keown 44). Together, Depth Psychology and Eastern mythology/philosophy/religion (all the words apply) can provide a very powerful compass for navigating this life. In these complementary approaches, individuation and enlightenment hold the same goals as both ultimately seek to end suffering and provide unity. Furthermore, in the most profound way, Buddhism offers guidance for what Campbell identified as “joyfully participation in the sorrows of the world” (173): “The joy and happiness of meditation permeates mind and body, heals all anxiety, sorrow, and despair and enables the practitioner to experience the wonders of life” (Thich Nhat Hanh, Old Path 529). Paris echoes this sentiment a chapter subheading: “Life is absurdly, awesomely ugly and beautiful” (59).

Learning to live in this world, going on one heroic journey after another, and seeking individuation and peace of the mind, body, and spirit are all endless processes in our human existence. Following the work of great thinkers such as Joseph Campbell and Ginette Paris opens doorways to insight and understanding. Religions such as Buddhism offer a mythology that reminds us “what life has to offer – this instant, this body, this love, this destiny” (Paris 197). Mindfulness is becoming a popular term in America today as it points to something we all need: a return to the present. Caught in consumerism and a fast-paced culture, it is easy to lose sight of the moment. We collectively need navigational skills to aid us in making both the day-to-day and large decisions in our life. Reading, studying, and meditating are combined components from mythology, depth psychology and religion that will help us to develop well-rounded lives that allow for moments of quietude, self-reflection, and soul movement. Caring for ourselves in this way is the first necessary step in tending to the soul of the world.

Works Cited

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero’s Journey. Novato: New World, 1990.

— The Hero with a Thousand Faces. New Jersey: Princeton UP, 1972.

Keown, Damien. Buddhism: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Print.

Nhat Hanh, Old Path, White Clouds: Walking in the Footsteps of the Buddha. Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 1991. Print.

Paris, Ginette. Wisdom and Psyche: Depth Psychology After Neuroscience. London: Routledge, 2007. Print.

Mythological Studies & Depth Psychology

Posted on June 26, 2012 by mythgirl under Buffy, Grad School, Life, Mythology, Pop Culture, Psychology, Writing

As I come to the end of my second year of study at Pacifica, I have just completed a daunting task: Comprehensive Exams. For our school, these are essentially take home questions, consisting of three questions that each need a four-five page response. It doesn’t sound too challenging, but the question are large and creating succinct answers based on everything you’ve learned in the last two years is… daunting.

I am quite thrilled that I have now completed this venture. In geeky celebration, I decided to see how much I’ve written for the program during the fifteen courses I’ve completed to date. Including my comps, I’ve written a whopping 160 pages. That’s 52,674 words. So, of course, I pasted all these words into wordle to get a visualization of where I’ve concentrated my work. It’s quite clear how much I’ve written on Buffy, Angel, Joseph Campbell, and the shadow archetype. What a journey!!

Joss is Boss

Posted on May 9, 2012 by mythgirl under Buffy, Buffyverse, Mythology, Pop Culture

I say again, it’s a good month to be a Whedonist!!

The instant extreme success of The Avengers couldn’t have been earned by any writer/director/creator more deserving.

Seeing the movie was exciting.

Seeing the movie a second time was exciting!

Seeing Joss’s name get splashed around the internet at an ever increasing rate is exciting.

Waking up to see Joss left a message on Whedonesque for us was amazing!!

It’s so amazing, that the number of articles about the importance of the letter are steadily rising.

Here’s a beautiful excerpt:

People have told me that this matters, that my life is about to change. I am sure that is true. And change is good — change is exciting. I think — not to jinx it — that I may finally be recognized at Comiccon . . . What doesn’t change is anything that matters. What doesn’t change is that I’ve had the smartest, most loyal, most passionate, most articulate group of — I’m not even gonna say fans. I’m going with “peeps” — that any cult oddity such as my bad self could have dreamt of. When almost no one was watching, when people probably should have STOPPED watching, I’ve had three constants: my family and friends, my collaborators (often the same), and y’all. A lot of stories have come out about my “dark years”, and how I’m “unrecognized” . . . So this is me, saying thank you. All of you. You’ve taken as much guff for loving my work as I have for over-writing it, and you deserve, in this our time of streaming into the main, to crow. To glow.

And we are glowing! With great pride. For the best damn writer alive in our time. Joss is a fan boy at heart, and he knows how to tell stories. He’s never sold out. And that’s brought him a lot of canceled television programs, but it’s also bought him a dedicated following. Joss has been weaving the current mythology of our popular culture for the last fifteen years. Though everyone may not have seen the series, Buffy is certainly a name recognized by most. And her impact has been deep and wide. What Joss has done for female characters and the empowerment of women – no, not just women, of people – is necessary, meaningful, and timely.

It’s amazing how many interviews, articles, and reviews you can read right now on both The Avengers and Joss Whedon. I must mention some of the best though (all second, of course, to Whedon’s post on Whedonesque).

Here’s possibly the best interview I’ve ever read with Whedon: ‘Avengers’ Director Joss Whedon on Trying to Be More Like Buffy. It’s lengthy and meaty and well-worth your time! And as someone who’s currently juggling many projects (though none on the level of what Joss does), I appreciated this insight/advice the most:

If you try to multitask in the classic sense of doing two things at once, what you end up doing is quasi-tasking. It’s like being with children. You have to give it your full attention for however much time you have, and then you have to give something else your full attention. The secret to multitasking is that it isn’t actually multitasking. It’s just extreme focus and organization.

If your time is more limited, here’s a short Q&A that gets right to the heart of Whedon. I’m going to spoil the final bit for you, and you won’t mind because it’s so damn beautiful all by itself.

Tell us a joke.
Your life has meaning.

Tell us a secret.
Your life has meaning.

Here’s an article I love that came out just before The Avengers release date and highlights the academia of the Whedonverse: Master of the Whedonverse. Speaking of which… five years ago when I was writing my Master’s Thesis on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, despite the growing academic literature, I had to argue why this was worthy of academic exploration. I dare say that now, as I’m expanding on that project as a book with McFarland, the why has become culturally understand. Are all movies and television programs deep and meaningful? Of course. But the one’s that are… they are transforming us on an individual and collective level. They are as powerful as myths. In fact, they’re the new myth. They reflect our time and they give us something to relate to. I firmly believe Joss was a significant figure in bringing this into being. He changed the face of serialized television. And, in the process, he changed our lives.

On a final note, here’s an interesting article on Death in Fantasy Fiction: Why It Makes Us Rage. (Minor spoilers for Avengers coming here… but I won’t give away anything you’re not already expecting… and I won’t name names) Sure, my husband muttered, “Damn you, Joss Whedon!” under his breath when a beloved character in The Avengers met his demise… but here’s what I love about Whedon. We (the Whedonists) know he’s going to kill off characters that matter to us. If they didn’t matter to us, their deaths wouldn’t matter. And he’s not doing it for shock value. In the worlds Whedon creates, the stakes are always high (Buffy lives on a Hellmouth; Angel battles Wolfram & Hart’s apocalypse; the Alliance is out for Mal Reynolds; Dr. Horrible built a DEATH ray; The Dollhouse is attacking the very rights of humanity; The Avengers are facing a demi-god). And how realistic would those high stakes seem and those victories really feel if everyone came out alive and unburdened? In fact, if it hadn’t been for the moving death in Avengers, would our team of super heroes even have become a team? I think Nick Fury made it pretty clear how much they needed that catalyst. We’re drawn to Whedon again and again because his stories are real. The stakes are real. The losses are real. And so are the messages, the characters, the meaningfulness, and the emotion.

I’m proud to be a Whedonist and I’m glad the whole world now gets to see now what he’s capable of.

OPUS Archives

Posted on March 16, 2012 by mythgirl under Books, Grad School, Mythology

While I was at Pacifica’s Ladera Lane campus for the James Hillman Tribute event, I took advantage of the opportunity to attend one of the short tours in the OPUS archives. It took every effort not to walk around jaw-dropped at the collections I was seeing! I thought I had a good grasp on Joseph Campbell, with my home bookcase that shelves at least half of his published works. But now I’ve learned that those published works are really just the beginning. The archives also host materials from Marija Gimbutas, Jane Hollister Wheelwright and Joseph Wheelwright, Marion Woodman, Christine Downing, and a few others, including, as I discussed in recent posts, James Hillman. The work done in the archives is near unfathomable to me. Every scrap, every page, every photo is or has been organized, cataloged, and digitized. The attention to detail and the work to preserve these collections utterly amazes me.

Of course, what I was most amazed by was the Joseph Campbell collection. As I have mentioned before, Campbell is the driving force behind all my academic studies. As awed as I was to see how much of his material was archived at OPUS, nothing moved me as much as the newest edition: his personal writing desk. And the best part? We were even allowed to touch it. They also have his personal encyclopedia set with the custom bookshelf he built for them. Just amazing!

Just some of the boxes that house the cataloged work of Campbell

Joseph Campbell's Encyclopedias

Joseph Campbell's Writing Desk

If you ever find yourself in Carpinteria, CA, I encourage you to explore the campus of Pacifica and the richness of the archives.

Tribute to James Hillman, Pt 4

Posted on March 12, 2012 by mythgirl under Grad School, Life, Mythology, Psychology

On the morning of Sunday, March 4, the Tribute to James Hillman continued as more individuals shared their memories of Hillman and the impact his works have had on their lives.

The first speaker of the day was David Miller. He was introduced with great praise by Ginette Paris.

Miller took us through a series of quotes from Hillman, as pictured above. Throughout the weekend, I heard many commenting on the density of Hillman’s texts, and more than once I heard the comment, “But you just can’t highlight every sentence!” Indeed, that’s what one feels like doing when reading Hillman. Miller’s breakdown gave us the opportunity to look at some of these great thoughts individually and to reflect on them, allowing them to speak loud and clear on their own.

Miller reflected that for Hillman, depth and soul were deeply missing from psychology and practice. He had a sense of anger, but it was on behalf of soul and soulfulness. Miller shared an old Japanese saying: The tea bowl has 2 handles; always pick it up by the other one.” He said Hillman had a knack for finding that other handle.

Miller then reflected on Hillman’s strategy, which was to introduce psyche to the underworld, view neurosis as best friends, and use the lens of the archetypal perspective. He reflected on his own time in analysis under Hillman, claiming it was “a dire psychic necessity” for him at the time.

In his final reflection, Miller noted that “everything in the dream is right. The dream wants what the psyche wants, except for the ego desires.” These dreams, of course, are important in analysis. And, in analysis, he argued that Hillman preferred the “oh shit” moment as opposed to the “aha” moment of enlightenment. When you hang your head in your hands, you’ve broken through to something.

The final set of speakers presented under the title Student & Alumni Sparks. There presentations have been made available here on the Pacifica Alumni Website. I’ll offer just a quick overview here.

Jason Butler discussed Hillman as image and emphasized the importance of things fall. Matthew Green claimed we need to individuate each moment of life and presented focused on the importance of imagining. Elizabeth Robinson emphasized archetypes, which cannot be explained but experienced. Jennifer Sandoval opened by quoting Jung: “I would rather be whole than good,” and emphasized how throwing away differs from letting go or seeing through. She emphasized that we must bear our shadow. There is “numinous beauty of a world ensouled.” Gustavo Beck discussed the importance of fears, which Hillman declared as the road to the numinous. Beck emphasized risk, love, and community.

“Words, like angels, have invisible powers over us.” James Hillman

Myth Girl

"Follow Your Bliss."

Category Archives: Mythology

Happy Birthday, Joseph Campbell

“Did I Fall Sleep?” Self-Awareness and Technology in Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse

Facing the Apocalypse

Depth Psychology and Culture

Myth and Literature

Mythology & Religious Tradition

Mythological Studies & Depth Psychology

Joss is Boss

OPUS Archives

Tribute to James Hillman, Pt 4

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