Journal: Generic Everyman Protagonist

Journal: Generic Everyman Protagonists

by

Paul Adams

So, today I want to talk about the “Generic Everyman Protagonist” common in fiction, or for sake of brevity, the G.E.P. The most notable representatives pf this of course being Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Frodo Baggins, and Luke Skywalker in movies and books, and most of the protagonists of video games. Now these characters can come in all shapes and sizes, though they are often the most common ethnicity in the country of the work's origin, and are often male though there are more than a few females in this role ( a surprisingly high amount in manga and anime, see: Lucy in Fairy Tale). Hence the reason for the four examples listed above all being white males as they are the best known to an American audience. I will be getting into this more later.

Now, the “Generic Everyman Protagonist” exists primarily in the science fiction or fantasy genre but can crop up in other genres. Their purpose in most cases is to give the audience a “lowest common denominator” of sorts to relate to, a center of stability and familiarity to see this strange new world through. In some ways, the basic-ness of their character is their greatest strength. If you are trying to show your audience this vast world or concept that you’ve created, you don’t want them to be constantly distracted because their proxy in the world has way too much going on.

Before I get started, there are a couple of troublesome factors involved. Like I pointed out earlier, many of these types of characters are often white straight males (in Western media, at least). Whether this is whitewashing or social whatever is not something I want to tackle here, but it does feed into the concept brought up in the preceding paragraph, about them having too much going on. Often, but not always, if your protagonist is female, she tends to carry into the story a certain degree of feminist angle. Instead of being first and foremost an observer of the world around her, most of the audience will want her to be a role model, an action hero, the center of the plot's attention at all times, and the writer will factor that in, and as a result, the world that they're supposed to be showing us will not be as developed. The same can be said for a dark-skinned protagonist, homosexual protagonist, or otherwise. Whether you support the causes or not, this can the quickest way to distract from the world you’re trying to present, or such characters and issues can be easily mishandled and authors will avoid them just so they don’t cause more problems. That said, that trend seems to be changing as “G.E.P.s” such as Katniss Everdeen of The Hunger Games and Rey and Finn of the newest Star Wars film did a solid job of filling their role without getting bogged down in these ways.

Another point of contention arises when you use this kind of character to explore other real life cultures, to present a culture your intended audience may not be familiar with by using a G.E.P. they can relate to. Such examples are The Last Samurai and Dances with Wolves. These kinds of stories will often be criticized for “racial appropriation,” especially if the G.E.P., rather than simply experiencing this culture they’re unfamiliar with and connecting to it, rises through the ranks of the culture and becomes their “best” member, their chief or chosen one or hero. This is understandable in some respects, as the hierarchy or fighting styles of the culture are often an important part of said culture, and letting the G.E.P. rise through the ranks lets them experience the culture on all levels, and narratively, it can give structure or purpose to your plot. I think, in the end, it just requires balance. And even if you take them to the upper echelons of the culture, try to avoid placing them at the very top if you can.

Now that the touchy subjects are out of the way, let’s focus on what makes Harry, Frodo, Percy, and Luke work but not others. I think it is a common misconception that because your protagonist is a G.E.P., that means that you don’t have to try with their characters. That you can just place the character in position, have them say the right things and ask the right questions, and that’s it. But I think it’s the opposite. I think the G.E.P. may be the most important character to get right. If you are supposed to experience the world through their eyes, then you are going to need them to be as human as they possibly can be. They need to feel the world around them. They need to care about the world around them. If the reader is to truly live within the world the author is presenting them, they need to feel it the way the G.E.P. character feels it. If the protagonist is simply walking through this “interesting world” of theirs and just kind of staring at it all without feeling any of it, the reader is not going to feel any of it. Although the G.E.P. may have the least going on, plot and characterwise, they need to be the most vibrantly human character in your story. Because in the end, the plot and world is their story, so they have to fill it with every ounce of emotion and feeling that they can.

Harry, Frodo, and Percy were all book characters first, so we were in their heads more than in other mediums. The world of Hogwarts only came to life for readers because it came to life for Harry. After living his life in a broom cupboard, the astonishment he felt exploring every last inch of his new magical world exceeded what would have been felt by almost anyone else, and that wonder came across in every last detail he took in. Frodo had lived his entire life in the sheltered community of the Shire, so every step he took beyond it was filled with terror and uncertainty about this vast world far different from his idyllic home. Percy had a wit and charm to his narration that colored the world that he explored, easing the tension that came with his cliché story arc and ensured that the old Greek myths he stumbled across were firmly translated into something a modern audience would understand.

Luke Skywalker on the other hand is a movie character first and foremost, and so the audience is not inside his head as much as they were inside Harry’s or Frodo’s or Percy’s. But the same principles still apply. Luke was a dreamer, a man who had lived his whole life on a barren farm, and could only imagine what was beyond the stars. When he stepped beyond his world, he was constantly learning and interacting with his new world. Though sometimes he was whiny and stubborn about learning it, he still had a sense of wonder and curiosity that allowed him to see as much of it as he could.

Now, I want to talk about the history of the G.E.P. in video games because theirs is an interesting history. For up to about the turn of the last century in video games, the sole purpose of the game was the gameplay mechanics themselves, and any plot was kept as basic as possible. This is the main reason for the longevity of the character Mario, as his creator Shigeru Miyamoto has continually gone out of his way to keep Mario as basic as possible, focusing on gameplay first, and simply adjusting him to fit whatever new game mechanics they came up with. Some games ended up as duds, but none ever truly hindered Mario’s success overall. Other games trying to compete with Mario, such as Sonic or Bubsy, were created as marketable characters first, and then had games built around them, and their success was often hindered by that fact.

Other games, especially the Role-Playing Game genre and occasionally the Action Adventure genre, including such franchises as Pokemon, The Legend of Zelda, and Final Fantasy, will intentionally go out of their way to make the player character as generic and unremarkable as possible, letting you name the character yourself and never having the character talk, so that you, the player, can then fill the character with your own personality and interests, so that you can “role-play” as them, if you will. In some ways, this is the best use of the G.E.P. for the video game genre, as the purpose of a G.E.P. in the first place is to give the audience someone to explore the world through, and in an interactive medium such as video games, you are the one exploring the world, so adding unnecessary personality will just get in the way more than it will help.

Around the turn of the last century, late 1990s to early 2000s, video games started to become far more cinematic as technology improved and creators were able to do more with what they had, and characters became more human and fleshed out than simple iconic cartoon animals. As more and more intricate stories and depth were added, video games became more akin to movies, but with an added element of your own involvement. This led to an interesting growth in the G.E.P. as creators learned new ways of giving the main character personality while allowing the player to still explore the world in their own way and make their own choices. Some games, such as Mass Effect and Undertale, featured massively branching storylines that made every choice you make matter, and no single playthrough of the games was ever the same twice, and the personality of the player character was slightly altered in each storyline to match the choices the player made, ranging from complete monster to noble hero and every shade in between. Interactive storytelling in video games has changed the G.E.P. into a fusion of generic and complex by allowing the player to determine just what kind of person their character is.

So, this has been a wide look at the “Generic Everyman Protagonist” and the problems and qualities contained therein, and the way they have impacted and been impacted by the mediums they appear in. They are something to remember for my writing, especially as Gavin bears many similarities to these types of protagonists. I don’t know if books or movies will ever be able to accomplish the same kind of level games have taken G.E.P.s to, but I suppose that’s why we have these different types of mediums. But I think we can learn from all forms of storytelling in order to make our own better.

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Star Keepers: The Captain

Star Keepers

Chapter Five: The Captain

by Paul Adams

The rest of Gavin’s shift went as normally as any other given day on any of Gavin’s previous ships. Once the prisoners had been squared away with the enemy ships in tow, Gavin sent Bardlun and Long Tail to speak with them and alert the Star Keeper Command, while Qarian and Geroff descended to the hold to inspect the drones and laser arrays after the battle. Gavin and Aghri personally got in touch with the local leadership of the attacked planet and assured them that everything would be alright.

Once everything to do with the mission had been dealt with, Aghri retired to his quarters, giving Gavin full command. The Witani looked so very like his uncle, Gavin’s last captain, with his golden eyes and reticent demeanor, that Gavin had a hard time reminding himself that he was the superior officer this time around. After another hour or two, Nikola the pilot handed off her controls to one of the ship’s auxiliary officers, a magenta-furred Mura whose small sleek body slipped comfortably into the grooves of the pilot’s chair, her unique quintuple-jointed hands allowing her to manipulate the steering mechanism in ways no Human ever could.

Finally, half an hour later, Garrison spun in his chair at the far end of the bridge. His screens went dark and his thick glasses lit up with smaller versions of those screens once again. He stood, straightening out his finely pressed uniform and pushing his glasses back up on his thin nose. He ran his hand through his dark, curly hair and said, with an air of a mere officer to his superior, “My shift is up, so I’m going to head to my quarters. I’ve already alerted the other auxiliary to come and take over.”

He ascended the bridge, passing the pilot on the way. As he neared Gavin however, he stopped and looked up at his captain. Through the bright images playing across his glasses, Gavin could see the blue eyes of his cousin James, studying him the way he would have back on Centauri IV whenever Gavin described the adventures he would have someday as a space captain. The computer officer was silent for a moment, his expression blank and unreadable, before he offered a brief “Welcome aboard, Captain” and left the bridge without another word.

“Thank you, Mr. Garrison,” Gavin replied quietly.

Two hours later, Qarian returned and Gavin handed off control of the bridge to her. After that Gavin made his rounds through the ship, inspecting the crew and important areas of the ship. First, Gavin visited the engine room, a massive area that took up the entire back half of the Arrowhead. A miniature sun roiled in the center of the room, encapsulated in a thick transparent globe of nearly impenetrable material, with tubes connecting to the sphere and directing the sun’s energy to the engines and other areas of the ship. Despite the measures taken to keep the engine room as cool and radiation-free as possible, the room always felt uncomfortably warm to Gavin. He remembered his days as an auxiliary officer aboard his first vessel, and being forced to spend entire shifts there helping the engineer. He was glad that he now only had to visit the engine room for brief periods every day.

The engineer, Mikoh Ras, was a Mura much like the auxiliary officer now piloting the ship, except with matted black-and-gray fur rather than magenta. While Gavin watched, he put his species’ special hands to good use, manipulating the machinery making up the room with masterful ease, as if he had been born to work with tools. Gavin found he also had a rather loud and abrasive personality, made apparent when he let Gavin know his displeasure at having had his assistant, the other auxiliary officer Garrison had summoned, called away to do some menial task like keeping the ship’s computer systems up and running.

Next Gavin visited the medical bay, a large room in the center of the ship, easily accessible from anywhere else a crew member might happen to be. One wall was lined with beds, the opposite lined with stasis pods. Both seemed small, but Gavin knew they functioned the same way as the seats on the bridge, able to expand and shape themselves to fit any body type. A third wall was lined with isolation chambers, while the fourth was a long straight wall of cabinets with screens displaying all manner of medical information across their faces. Each bed and stasis pod had a console built into the wall beside it from which medicine or information could be summoned if needed.

The doctor was one of the oldest creatures Gavin had ever met. He had a large, oval-shaped head with a beak and drooping eye stalks, heavy gray wings that didn’t look like they were capable of lifting him off the ground anymore, and thin, pale skin that showed way more of the doctor’s insides than Gavin wanted to see. The old doctor floated around the room on a large square platform, complete with holographic screen and table surface, that allowed him to set down next to any patient who needed his immediate attention.

Currently, the only patient was Geroff, the ship’s weapons officer, who sat on the edge of a bed in one corner, his fur smoking and his face and arms covered in burns, but with a wide smile on his face.

“What happened?” Gavin asked.

“Mr. Latil set off an explosion in his quarters,” the old doctor rasped in beak-variant Ubar. Gavin wasn’t as well-versed in beak-variant as he was in standard lip-variant Ubar, but he managed to translate after only a few seconds with little trouble. Maybe Long Tail had been rubbing off on him after all.

“Wh—Was he hurt?” Gavin asked. His gut reaction was to demand why he would have done such a thing, but he forced himself to remember his training and prioritize his questions.

“Don’t worry about me, Captain,” the weapons officer said simply, his smile broadening. Only now did Gavin realize that the officer had a lazy eye on the left side, which gave him a slightly unhinged look. “We Gyrowans have very thick skin. I’ve been through a lot bigger explosions than that in my time.”

Gavin breathed slowly, inhaling the fumed curling from the creature’s bristly fur. For a moment, he though he caught a whiff of mint mixed into the smoky odor. He moved on to his second question. “Why would you do this?”

“Because it was fun.”

Gavin looked to the doctor for clarification. The old medic sighed heavily and tapped his screen, pulling up the weapons officer’s medical records. “Officially, Lieutenant Latil is diagnosed as a pyromaniac. More specifically, he is obsessed with explosives. He has been known to . . . experiment in his free time.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Why is he allowed service, then?”

“He falls just above the line, sir,” the doctor said. “While he shows little impulse control and an unhealthy obsession for explosive materials, he has rarely harmed a fellow crewmember or done significant damage to any given ship he is on.”

Geroff nodded so quickly, Gavin thought his head might wobble off. “I always make sure I’m the only one in the blast range. Unless they’re bad guys. I blow them up sometimes.” He grinned at Gavin, his lazy eye wandering to the doctor’s console. “Can I go back to my quarters now?”

Gavin bit his lip and looked at the doctor. “All of this is in his file?”

The doctor nodded. “His case has been brought to High Command several times, but he was allowed to remain in service due to his apparent self-control and his particular expertise in the field of, well, explosives.”

Gavin looked back at Geroff. The weapons officer was still wearing the same unhinged grin as before. The whole thing seemed a little fishy to him. He’d have to look into it. “You may leave when Doctor Gollie clears you,” Gavin said. He turned to said doctor. “Send me the information from all previous ships Lieutenant Latil has ever served aboard.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gavin turned to leave. “Bye, Captain!” he heard Geroff shout behind him.

Finally, Gavin’s shift ended and he returned to the solitude of his own quarters. Or rather, that’s what he would have done if he hadn’t found Long Tail there, lounging on his bed while watching a space race on the opposing wall.

“What’s up,” the little lizard said as he came in.

Gavin stared at him for a second. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. “What are you doing in here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing. Making sure my boy Maxes doesn’t let me down. I’ve got too many bets riding on him this season.”

Gavin shook his head. “First of all, as your captain, I’m not supposed to approve of gambling. Second of all, you’re not supposed to just hang out in your captain’s quarters like they’re your own.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Mine aren’t as nice as yours. Now, are you going to join me in the Maxes party, or are you going to stick with Ceriah like you always do.”

“She’s going to win this thing, you just watch.”

“Sure. You only support her because you’ve got a thing for her.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to change.”

“I don’t mind,” Long Tail shrugged.

Gavin tapped a point on the wall and swiped the air between him and Long Tail. A wall materialized between them, splitting the room into two. At first, the wall was little more than a trick of light, but after a few seconds, it developed the same solid consistency as the walls to which it connected. For a minute or so, Gavin simply leaned against the door, smiling to himself. He stared at his ancestors’ pictures lining the wall opposite him, ending with his father, staring back at him with his mane of wild, brown hair and cocky grin. I did it, he thought to himself. I got through my first day as captain. He studied each image in succession, hoping they would all be proud of him.

Gavin stood and stepped across to his closet. He slipped off his coat and slacks, hanging them up carefully on their hooks, placing his badge and insignia on the shelf nearby. He tapped at the wall behind his uniform, which opened and pulled the uniform inside to be washed and pressed. Tapping the wall a few inches to the left, a set of fresh casual clothing popped out, including a white denicotton shirt and a pair of black pants. Gavin quickly got them on and checked his reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes looked back at him from the same young face he had seen earlier that day, but for a second, Gavin thought he might look a bit more mature now. But maybe that was just wishful thinking. He glanced back at his father’s picture. The same blue eyes, but shining out from a lined and weathered face, the face of one who knew combat, one who knew how to be a leader.

Gavin tapped the wall, dispelling it into thin air once again and re-opening the room. Long Tail still lounged on the bed, but he had moved over several feet, leaving enough space for Gavin to lay however he wanted. Gavin flopped down beside the lizard, for the moment no longer captain and communications officer, but the best friends they’d always been.

“Maxes winning?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“How’s Ceriah doing?”

“Hit an asteroid two laps back.”

Gavin cursed. “Fine, put me in on Maxes.”

“Nope, too late. My offer has already expired. Try again next time.”

“Really?” Gavin asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Of course. You’re a captain now. I have no reason to go easy on you anymore. Besides, as a captain, you’re not supposed to approve of gambling.”

Gavin slumped back on the bed. He watched the screen on the opposite wall, as a pair of racers sped neck-and-neck through an asteroid belt. One of them bore the blue-and-silver markings of Maxes Maxone. The other bore black-and-red markings that Gavin didn’t recognize. “Which belt today?”

“Earth’s.”

“Really? We’re that far along in the season already?”

“Gavin, come on, you really need to pay more attention to these things if you want to stand any chance against me.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I’ve been a little busy lately. Has Ceriah won any so far?”

Long Tail flipped casually through a small pad of paper in front of him. “She came in third once.”

“Great. How much am I set back?”

“Only thirty yorei. I guess that’s one advantage to not paying enough attention. As for me, if my boy Maxes pulls through I can be looking forward to a nice seventy-three coming my way.”

Gavin watched the screen for a minute. The race was nearly over, and it looked like Maxes was pulling ahead of his opponent. “I guess there’s no point to keep watching. I should get on those reports.” He got up and crossed to his desk. He sat down and typed up his report for command. Once he was finished, he tapped the tabletop, which projected an image of the document into the air before him. He looked it over, proofreading it for errors, then grabbed it with his fingers. A row of contacts appeared around the document, showing every member of the ship’s crew, his family, and some of his contacts at the station and the academy. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it flying toward the face of Admiral McLustiff.

The document gone, the contact images in the air reshuffled themselves to fill up the space. Gavin leaned back in his chair and watched the swirling images bounce around each other for a moment. He studied the faces of his new crew. First officer Aghri’s golden eyes gleamed at him, his damaged ear visible in the image. Gavin briefly wondered how he had received the wound. Pilot Nikola’s green eyes brimmed with the same youthful excitement she had had on the bridge, and Long Tail still wore his wide grin. Combat officer Qarian’s gray eyes still had their same piercing quality, but her face seemed softer in the image. And of course, James Garrison still wore his thick-rimmed glasses, but no images danced across them, allowing his blue eyes to shine through, fixing Gavin with a gaze of calculating intelligence.

Gavin smiled slightly. He remembered back when he and James were children, laying out in the heath in front of his aunt Jelly’s inn on Centauri IV, picking out constellations like Skywalker and Enterprise, and talk about the adventures they would have someday when they were old enough. He remembered how James would try to explain to him the exact distance between each star and how none of them were really in the order they seemed to be, but Gavin with his ten-year-old mind didn’t care. He daydreamed about zipping from the stars making up the constellation’s fingers to the star at the end of its laser blade so fast, the energy from his ship’s turbines would light up the sword the way it was supposed to. Then he’d fantasize about exploring planets made from the heads of giant spacemen and fighting alien parasites that preyed on unsuspecting miners. James would just roll his eyes and tussle his little cousin’s hair, telling him he’d been watching too many old movies.

Gavin’s eyes wandered to the few images of his family floating around the circle. He wanted to talk to them. He wanted to tell them all about his first mission as a captain. He wanted, well, he wanted confirmation that they were proud of him. He wanted to know, for sure, that he had finally made it into their ranks. But his father, mother, and Uncle Tyler were all surely busy, and James wasn’t supposed to be related to him right now. He tapped on the image of a smiling blonde woman with a round face and blue eyes as clear as his own.

“Oh, Aunt Jelly,” Long Tail said, settling down gently on Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin noticed that the wall displaying the race had gone blank. “You think it’s about dinnertime back on Centauri? I could go for some of her famous flassberry bobcakes right now.”

Gavin blushed. “No,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking about her food.” Though now that Gavin thought about it, he could feel his mouth starting to water imagining all the meals Jelly used to serve back at the inn. “I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all. Um, what happened with the race?”

“Oh, that? Maxes lost. Smacked right into an asteroid half a kilo out from the goal. Better luck next race, I guess.”

Gavin smiled. “Sorry, buddy. Do you really need some bobcakes to cheer you up?”

“I do,” Long Tail said, hanging his scaly head.

Gavin tapped Aunt Jelly’s face again. The image expanded to fill the screen, and a faint buzzing sounded from the desk. After a few seconds, the still image was replaced by the actual smiling face of the woman it depicted. Her expression broke into a glittering smile when she saw her favorite nephew and boarder staring back at her. “Gavin,” she said. “I was just thinking about calling you. And Long Tail, taking care of yourself?”

Long Tail lifted his head, his whole demeanor brightening. “Yes, Aunt Jelly.”

Gavin smiled. Seeing her face always managed to lift a burden from his shoulders. “Hi, Aunt Jelly,” he said. The smell of his aunt’s signature mashed potatoes with gravy and jaffa fruit wafted up from vents on his desk, sensors there duplicating the smells filling Jelly’s kitchen on the other end. He sniffed the air hungrily. “You are making dinner right now,” he said.

Aunt Jelly raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Smell it, can you?” Her boys both nodded eagerly. She held up a plate of the food in question. “As I recall, Gavin, you used to look forward to this every Sunday.”

Gavin licked his lips. Every bit of the plate looked as perfect as he remembered it being. Jelly watched Gavin’s face as he stared at the food, passing the plate through the air in front of his nose just to tease him. Gavin leaned forward, closing his eyes and letting the aroma wash over him. Long Tail licked his lips. Then, she looked down at it curiously. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked.

“No,” Gavin said, acting natural. “Not yet. I was planning on going down to the mess hall later.”

“You know,” she said. “I have plenty for the guests right now. Would you like this plate?”

Gavin was sorely tempted. He watched a trickle of brown gravy ooze across a particularly large jaffa. He could almost taste their flavors mixing in his mouth right now. He forced himself to shake his head. “No,” he said. “No. You don’t have to do that, Aunt Jelly. The ship’s got food. Long Tail could use a bobcake, though.”

“Nonsense,” Aunt Jelly said. “No amount of ship’s food can compete with my cooking, and you’ve earned it. Your first day as captain, and you expect me to just let you eat ship food. Now, I’m going to send you this plate, and Long Tail’s bobcakes,” She grabbed a pair of light green pastries from somewhere nearby and placed them beside the potatoes, “and you’re going to like it.”

Gavin smiled. He just couldn’t say no. “Alright,” he said.

Aunt Jelly grinned. Long Tail bounced on Gavin’s shoulder as she placed the food on a console out of sight before her and tapped at the air. A few seconds later, a red light flashed on Gavin’s table, telling him he had a delivery. The smell was gone. Gavin reached down and pulled a small panel off the bottom of his desk, which glowed a faint pink. He held it up to show his aunt. “Thanks, Aunt Jelly.”

“Mmm,” Long Tail said, grabbing the panel out of Gavin’s hand and rubbing it against his stomach.

Aunt Jelly smiled. “Now, your cousin tells me that you’ve completed your first mission as captain today.”

Gavin rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess,” he said.

“Well, honey,” she said, “That’s a big deal. You’re finally out there doing what you’ve always wanted. The whole family’s so proud.”

“Yeah,” Gavin blushed, smiling even wider. “How is everybody? Grandpa, Mom, Dad?”

“Oh, they’re all fine, sweetie. Grandpa’s just gone to bed. Getting a bit old, you know. But he was just tickled as a baby Cheqin when James told us. Your dad might see you at the station sometime. He’s there overseeing some change in protocol. Your mom’s on a reconnaissance mission to Raijou, but she’ll be back soon. And Uncle Tyler’s with your—”

“With my dad,” Gavin finished. Uncle Tyler had been Gavin’s father’s best friend in the academy and had served as his first officer in the war. Even to this day, they were nearly inseparable, almost as inseparable as Gavin himself and Long Tail. The only person who seemed capable of getting the two apart was Jelly herself.

“They’re both so proud of you, Gavin,” Aunt Jelly said.

Gavin smiled. “Yeah, I know,” he said.

Aunt Jelly glanced to her left for a second. “I have to go,” she said. “My tenants are getting hungry. Enjoy your food. I’m so proud of you both.”

“Yeah, okay,” Gavin said. “See you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Aunt Jelly,” Long Tail said. “Thanks for the food.”

The image disappeared, leaving the room darker in its absence. Long Tail held up the small square panel in his claws. “Yes, yes, yes,” he said. “I can taste them now. Come on, let’s get down to the mess hall.” He held it up to his nose, sniffing it as if he could still smell it. Gavin tapped at his table to check the time. About right for dinner. Gavin was about to get to his feet when he notice a flashing red dot in one corner of the display.

“Hang on, Long Tail,” Gavin said. “Looks like we’ve got an assignment.”

Gavin tapped the dot and it brought up a breaking news item with an attached itinerary from High Command. Apparently, a city had been attacked on a planet a few systems over. Whatever it was seemed to be boasting serious firepower and had blown a hole in the city walls, killing one civilian. Authorities feared it had come from off-world, though they had detected nothing in the area. Judging by the map, Gavin figured it would take about a day to get to the planet from here. He tapped the itinerary and forwarded it to the auxiliary officer currently piloting the ship so that she could set a course.

“Guess we have something to do tomorrow,” he said to Long Tail. He eyed the panel Long Tail held. “In the meantime, I’m in the mood for some potatoes.”

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Journal: Strawmen

THE POINT OF A STRAWMAN

by

Paul Adams

            So, I’m sure you’re aware of the trope known as the Strawman, a flat two-dimensional character designed only to push or discredit a certain political viewpoint. Whether they be an arrogant money-grubbing billionaire to represent Conservatives or a wild and selfish teenager who cares only about themselves to represent Liberals, a womanizing, wife-beating pig to push Feminism or a shrill screaming harpy to discredit Feminism, a foolish Bible-thumping prude or a drunk faithless washout to push religious perspectives, the Strawman is probably one of the most aggravating tropes in fiction.

            However, on a recent viewing of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, I became interested in the character of Denethor, played by John Noble. Denethor in many ways is very much a Strawman, representing a ruler whose concern is centered entirely on himself and his throne while having little to no concern for his subjects. When Gandalf and Pippin arrive in his court, urging him to call for help against his enemies, he refuses simply on the grounds of keeping his throne. He sends his son Faramir and their entire army to their deaths, enjoying a personal feast as they do so. And when Faramir is brought back wounded, he goes out of his way to portray himself as a martyr, refusing treatment for his son, and attempting to have them both burned on a pyre.

            Through all of this, I noticed that Denethor, unlike many Strawman similar to him, never became egregious. You never felt like you were being bashed over the head with some director’s personal political agenda. I stopped to consider why that was, and in doing so, I asked myself what is a Strawman? My answer was that a Strawman represents the extreme of any political viewpoint, a representation of what happens when that political viewpoint is taken too far or set out of balance.

            So, where does this fit into the process of storytelling. Naturally, the Strawman is a trope that should be used to show the dangers of going too far with the particular viewpoint they represent. A Strawman works best when the focus is kept on that. Where a number of Strawmen fail, I’ve noticed, is when they are presented as the only example of that political viewpoint. In reality, yes, there are a number of individuals who fulfill the “Strawman” persona and feed the stereotype, but there are normally far more with a much more balanced version of that viewpoint or have some very solid human reasons for acting the way they do. When a work of fiction portrays a strawman as the only version of that viewpoint, that’s when it becomes egregious and aggravating. If a strawman is to function, they must be shown as a more-or-less special case instead of the norm.

            The second way in which a strawman fails is that the director fails to demonstrate to the audience why this way of thinking can be dangerous, and instead simply uses them as a personal punching bag. In Lord of the Rings, Denethor’s selfishness has a massive impact on the plot, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of soldiers, the emotional devastation of his son, and nearly the loss of his kingdom itself. When his karma eventually catches up to him, the audience feels as if he has earned every bit of it, and the results of such a selfish ruler are clear to the viewers.

            Far too often, we do not see the impact of these Strawmen. They simply walk into the plot, say and do the things connected to the extremes of the viewpoint represented, provide a nuisance every once in a while, and then get punished. It is very much the director or writers taking out their own political feelings against an opponent who can’t fight back.

            So, I guess that’s my conclusion. Where a Strawman fits into the world of fiction and storytelling is not as a representation of the whole or simply as a punching bag for the writer. That Strawman should stand as a special case, representing the worst of that particular leaning, and the results of their actions should be felt by the audience. In essence, a Strawman should be a teaching tool, a warning against going to political extremes. If used correctly, they can be a powerful tool in the hands of a skilled writer. If used poorly, well, the writer tends to make themselves look as foolish and closed-minded as the caricature they are trying to portray.

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Star Keepers: Stargazing (Three Points)

So, this is a little different. This week I'm putting up a short three-page scene from my book, written slightly differently through three different points of perspective. I may make this a common thing, if enough enjoy it.

Stargazing (General Third-Person)

by Paul Adams

Cold wind blows through the fields of heath on the northern hemisphere on Centauri IV, carrying with it the smells of warm summer nights. The scent of wild rosemary and birkwood mixed with the smells of fresh-baked bread and stew wafting from the house nearby. The rasping sound of bilderbug wings fill the valley, seeming to rise from every stalk of heath and thistle as two young boys sit out looking at the stars.

“Hey, look, there goes another one,” the oldest says.

He points to a small point of light in the night sky above. The light grows brighter and brighter, streaking its way northward to the landing pad out in the nearby city. “Do you think it’s a battleship this time?” the younger boy asks. “Or a speeder?”

The older boy smiles and ruffles the other’s hair. “Nah,” he says. “I’m sure its just a passenger ship. We’d know if a battleship were coming.”

“Oh.”

“Now, come on, let’s do another one. Which constellation is that big one there, with the four big points and the two coming off the side.”

“That one’s easy, James. That’s Skywalker.”

“What about that one there with the line of three and the little star underneath?”

“Enterprise.”

“How about that little clump right over there?”

“Valerian?”

“No. Valerian’s not in the sky this time of year, remember? And that has only four stars. This one has five. Which one is it?”

The younger boy scratches his head, trying to think. “Is it . . . Saiyan?”

James smiles. “Try again.”

“Serenity?”

“There it is! Great job.”

The younger boy grins and lays back in the heath, the rough plant making his skin itch. A bilderbug flutters past his face and he shoos it away. He studies the millions of stars dancing through the skies above him. For a brief moment, he imagines himself as the captain of his very own ship, speeding through space so fast he lights up the blackness between the stars of Skywalker’s light sword. “Where would my dad be right now?”

James lays down beside him and puts his hands behind his head. “I believe,” he said, “That Uncle Orion would be near Uinde right now, over there in the middle of Ender.” He points toward a long string of stars near the southern horizon.

“And your dad?”

James takes a deep breath. “He’d be in the Pindar system,” he says. He jabs his thumb at the ground beneath them. “Opposite side of the planet.”

“And my mom?”

“She’s on Earth.” Tony points to a faint star just to the side of Aldrin. “Maybe she’s looking up at us right now using the old constellations. I think we’re somewhere in Cassiopeia, or maybe Cephas.”

“Someday, we’ll be able to go on adventures out there too, right?”

“Right,” James says. “And you’ll become the second-best adventurer out there.”

“Why not best?”

“Because that title will go to me.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Kids,” a woman’s voice calls, carrying over the open fields. “Dinner’s ready.”

James sat up, looking back toward the nearby house. “Coming, Mom.” He pats his cousin on the shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “That’s enough daydreaming for one day.”

Stargazing (Third-Person Gavin)

Cold wind blows through the fields of heath, making Gavin shiver and carrying with it the smells of the warm summer nights on Centauri IV. The scent of wild rosemary and birkwood mixes with the smells of fresh-baked bread and stew wafting from Aunt Rosa’s kitchen. Gavin licks his lips and breathes deeply. The rasping sound of bilderbug wings fills the valley, seeming to rise from every stalk of heath and thistle around us.

“Hey, look, there goes another one.”

His cousin James lies beside him, pointing to a small point of light in the night sky above. The light grows brighter and brighter, streaking its way northward to the landing pad out in the nearby city. “Do you think it’s a battleship this time?” Gavin asks. “Or a speeder?”

James smiles and ruffles his hair. “Nah,” he says. “I’m sure it’s just a passenger ship. We’d know if a battleship were coming.”

“Oh,” Gavin says.

“Now, come on, let’s do another one. Which constellation is that big one there, with the four big points and the two coming off the side.”

“That one’s easy, James,” Gavin says. “That’s Skywalker.”

“What about that one there with the line of three and the little star underneath?”

“Enterprise.”

“How about that little clump right over there?”

Gavin squints at the constellation his cousin is pointing to. He knows that he knows it, but it’s one of those he always gets mixed up with others. “Valerian?”

“No. Valerian’s not in the sky this time of year, remember? And that has only four stars. This one has five. Which one is it?”

Gavin scratches his head, trying to think. “Is it . . . Saiyan?”

James smiles. “Try again.”

“Serenity?”

“There it is! Great job.”

Gavin grins. The rough heath brushes up against his arms, making him itch. A bilderbug flutters past his face and he shoos it away. He studied the millions of stars dancing through the skies. He smiles as he imagines himself as the captain of his very own ship, speeding through space so fast he lights up the blackness between the stars of Skywalker’s light sword. “Where would my dad be right now?”

James turns his head for a second. “I believe,” he says, “That Uncle Orion would be near Uinde right now, over there in the middle of Ender.” He points toward a long string of stars near the southern horizon.

“And your dad?”

“He’d be in the Pindar system,” James says. He jabs his thumb at the ground beneath him. “Opposite side of the planet.”

“And my mom?”

“She’s on Earth.” James points to a faint star just to the side of Aldrin. “Maybe she’s looking up at us right now using the old constellations. I think we’re somewhere in Cassiopeia, or maybe Cephas.”

“Someday, we’ll be able to go on adventures out there too, right?”

“Right,” James said. “And you’ll become the second-best adventurer out there.”

Gavin pouts. “Why not best?”

“Because that title will go to me.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Kids,” Gavin’s aunt Jelly’s voice calls, carrying over the open fields. “Dinner’s ready.”

James sits up, shaking loose a family of bilderbugs. “Coming, Mom.” He pats Gavin on the shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “That’s enough daydreaming for one day.”

Stargazing (Third-Person James)

Cold wind blows through the fields of heath, making James shiver and carrying with it the smells of a warm summer night on Centauri IV. The scent of wild rosemary and birkwood mixes with the smells of fresh-baked bread and stew wafting from his mom’s kitchen, filling him with fantasies of seasoned turkey and fallow fruit. The rasping sound of bilderbug wings fill the valley, seeming to rise from every stalk of heath and thistle around him.

“Hey, look, there goes another one.”

James follows his cousin Gavin’s finger to a small point of light in the night sky above. The light grows brighter and brighter, streaking its way northward to the landing pad in the nearby city. “Do you think it’s a battleship this time?” Gavin asks. “Or a speeder?”

James smiles and ruffles his cousin’s hair. “Nah,” he said. “I’m sure it’s just a passenger ship. We’d know if a battleship were coming.”

“Oh.”

“Now, come on, let’s do another one.” James lays back down, looking up at the night sky, a massive diagram of faint images and patterns drawing themselves across the universe. “Which constellation is that big one there,” he asks his cousin, “with the four big points and the two coming off the side.”

“That one’s easy,” I said. “That’s Skywalker.”

“What about that one there with the line of three and the little star underneath?”

“Enterprise.”

“How about that little clump right over there?”

Gavin hesitates. “Valerian?”

James chuckles. “No. Valerian’s not in the sky this time of year, remember? And that has only four stars. This one has five. Which one is it?”

Gavin scratches his head, trying to think. “Is it . . . Saiyan?”

James smiles. “Try again.”

“Serenity?”

“There it is! Great job.”

James and Gavin sit in silence for a minute, the heath making their skin itch. A bilderbug fluttered past James’ face and he shoos it away. He studies the millions of stars in the skies above. His brain starts running calculations, determining the distance of each star based on their location and brightness.

“Where would my dad be right now?”

James turns to see Gavin looking at him with his big blue eyes. He takes a deep breath and tries to remember the mission sheets he had looked at. “I believe,” he says, “That your dad would be near Uinde right now, over there in the middle of Ender.” He points toward a long string of stars near the southern horizon.

“And your dad?”

“He’d be in the Pindar system,” James says with a frown. He jabs his thumb at the ground beneath him. “Opposite side of the planet.”

“And my mom?”

“She’s on Earth.” James points to a faint star just to the side of Aldrin. “Maybe she’s looking up at us right now using the old constellations. I think we’re somewhere in Cassiopeia, or maybe Cephas.”

“Someday, we’ll be able to go on adventures out there too, right?”

“Right,” James says. “And you’ll become the second-best adventurer out there.”

Gavin sticks out his lower lip. “Why not best?”

“Because that title will go to me.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Kids,” James’s mom called from the nearby house, carrying over the open fields. “Dinner’s ready.”

James sat up. “Coming, Mom.” He patted Gavin on the shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “That’s enough daydreaming for one day.”

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Character Study: Mary Jane Watson

Mary Jane Watson: A Character Study

By

Paul Adams

Love interest characters come in all shapes and sizes, but probably one of the few names that rises to the top of that list is Peter Parker/Spider-Man’s neighbor, friend, best friend, on-again-off-again girlfriend, wife, and then acquaintance courtesy of the demon Mephisto and certain meddling Marvel execs, Mary Jane “MJ” Watson. Mary Jane has seen multiple iterations throughout the life of the Spider-Man franchise, including her original appearance in the Amazing Spider-Man comics, the Ultimate Marvel alternate universe, appearances in all television series based on Spider-Man, Kirsten Dunst’s portrayal in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man movie trilogy, an almost-appearance by Shailene Woodley dropped from the ill-fated Amazing Spider-Man 2, and the most recent sort-of portrayal by Zendaya in this year’s Spider-Man: Homecoming. In this essay, I intend to examine Mary Jane, her character traits, why she works as a character, and ultimately why Zendaya’s version has been the best adaptation so far.

Mary Jane first appeared in Amazing Spider-Man issue #42, a few issues after the debut of long-running supporting cast members Gwen Stacy and Harry Osborn. At this point, Peter and Gwen were just starting to develop a romance, so in entered Mary Jane, a flirty party-girl whose first and foremost role was to present an obstacle in the budding relationship. Mary Jane stepped onto the scene with a cheeky “Face it, Tiger, you just hit the jackpot.” From then on, Mary Jane became a constant presence in Peter’s group of friends, striking up a relationship with Harry, a friendly rivalry with Gwen, and never passing up a chance to hit on Peter.

The key characteristic I could use to describe Mary Jane would probably be “aloof.” Mary Jane didn’t seem to truly care about anyone or anything, she just wanted to party. If anyone tried to talk to her about anything more serious than a recent catchy song, she would brush them off, telling them that they were “killing her groove.” Contrast her flighty personality with straight-laced good girl Gwen, and it is clear that the writers were going for someone who was the obvious “wrong girl,” someone to show readers “Hey, isn’t Gwen just so much better for Peter?” Mary Jane’s shallow persona came to its peak in Amazing Spider-Man #97, when Harry, her supposed boyfriend, is going through a personal crisis and she simply flakes him off, telling him that she was never really interested in him, and flirting with Peter right in front of him. This contributes to Harry’s near-lethal drug overdose later that same issue.

The first major turning point in Mary Jane’s character arc comes in Amazing Spider-Man #122, the first issue following the landmark issue “The Night Gwen Stacy Died,” an issue that would change Spider-Man’s story and the comic book world forever. Following Gwen’s death after being pushed from the Washington Bridge by Spidey’s archnemesis, the Green Goblin, Spider-Man becomes consumed by revenge, leading him to track down and murder the Goblin himself. After the fatal encounter, Peter walks away, feeling no satisfaction from his deed, only a profound sense of loss and emptiness. When he returns home, he finds Mary Jane waiting in his apartment, intending to console him over the loss of her, at this point, best friend. Instead, she finds herself the brunt of all of his frustration and anger and despair, railing on her for her shallow antics and flakey approach to life, and orders her to get out before collapsing onto his couch in tears. Mary Jane, incensed, marches to his door, fully intent on slamming the door behind her, only to stop herself. She shuts the door gently. We are left with the image of Peter and Mary Jane, Peter on the couch and MJ leaning against the door frame, both in tears over Gwen’s death.

From this point on, Peter and MJ find themselves the only members of their old group of friends that they can rely on. Gwen is dead, and Harry has suffered a complete mental breakdown due to another drug overdose and the death of his father, the aforementioned Green Goblin. Mary Jane tries to keep up her aloof, carefree persona, but just can’t help herself as she watches Peter spiral into depression. She finds herself spending more and more time with Peter, and having to take on the role among her friends she once rejected, the one who takes things seriously and keeps it all together. This all culminates in issue #143 when Peter and MJ share a kiss and realize deeper feelings for each other. Their romance plays out for the next long stretch of the series until Peter attempts to propose in issue #182, shaking Mary Jane and leading her to break off their relationship and leave New York entirely, not to be seen again until issue #242.

After MJ returns, we begin to see the greatest growth and focus on her character. In Amazing Spider-Man #257, Mary Jane walks in on Peter in his Spider-Man costume, revealing to him that she had known his secret identity since before she had actually met him, watching him swing from his Aunt May’s window from her Aunt Anna’s house right next door. In issues #259 and a three-part story arc in issues #290-292, we delve deep into Mary Jane and learn where she came from. We learn that Mary Jane grew up under the hand of an abusive father who physically beat her mother and emotionally manipulated her and her sister. After her mother’s death and her father’s incarceration, Mary Jane ran away to live with her Aunt Anna, determined to never let herself become emotionally attached to anyone or anything ever again, resulting in her flighty, aloof persona. When she met Peter and learned his identity, she developed an immediate crush on him, but pressed it down until the circumstances following Gwen’s death forced her to actually care about Peter. When Peter proposed, Mary Jane realized how attached she had become and ran away.

Ultimately, Mary Jane faced her father and the life he had put her through, Peter at her side. Mary Jane let go of her personal issues and accepted Peter’s proposal. The pair were finally married in Amazing Spider-Man Annual #21.

The romance between Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson contains many of the elements that tend to make for a truly great romance. Two people, with their own lives and interests, steadily growing to love and complete one another. Unlike many of the more cliché Hollywood romances, both characters were developed in their own right and went through their own character arcs over the course of the story not directly related to the romance itself. A major contributor to this, I feel, is the fact that Mary Jane was never intended to be Peter’s love interest in her initial conception. Gwen Stacy was, and that’s what she remained, a generic love interest character whose every character arc hinged entirely around her relationship with Peter. Mary Jane however was her own character, given her own character arcs, and her relationship with Peter developed naturally out of those character arcs.

Let’s now examine the portrayals of Mary Jane throughout movies and television. In the 1990’s cartoon, she bears many similarities to comic book MJ, if a little toned down. She is introduced as a bit of a rival to his current love interest Felicia Hardy, but it rarely goes much beyond that, and she quickly becomes his primary love interest. She also tends to take over certain Gwen Stacy scenes, such as being dropped from the Washington Bridge by the Green Goblin (surviving said encounter). Kirsten Dunst’s portrayal in the Sam Raimi movies, however, leaves much to be desired. Considered by many to be one of the few less-than-stellar parts of the trilogy, Dunst’s Mary Jane is more of a conglomeration of Peter’s various love interests throughout his comic career, bearing the trademark red hair, name, next-door neighbor status, abusive father, and general career goals of Mary Jane, while taking Liz Allan’s role as “most popular girl in school,” Gwen Stacy’s generic “good girl” persona, and Betty Brant’s role as his first real love. Mary Jane is presented right off the bat as Peter’s only love interest, the only girl he ever loved, and her character arc throughout the series is hinged entirely around her relationship to him. In short, the love interest who was written to be an anti-love interest became the poster child for “the generic love interest.” There’s a reason I call that phenomenon the “Mary Jane Effect.” Once again, she also took over Gwen’s role of getting dropped from the Washington Bridge, surviving as before.

In the Amazing Spider-Man reboot series, Gwen Stacy was cast as the love interest, and was specifically written to contrast with Dunst’s bland portrayal of Mary Jane. Shailene Woodley was cast to appear in the second film of the franchise as Mary Jane, only for her scenes to be cut entirely. Finally, Marvel bought back the rights to Spider-Man in order for him to become part of their now 17+ film franchise, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, complete with his own film Spider-Man: Homecoming.

In enters Zendaya’s Michelle Jones. Despite the name change, skin color change, lack of red hair, and general vague denials that she is really Mary Jane, it quickly became clear that that is exactly who she is, culminating in her comment toward the end of the movie that her friends call her “MJ.” We start the movie with Peter Parker in high school, specifically a high school for gifted students, with a best friend named Ned Leeds, a crush on the popular girl Liz Allan, and a bully named Flash Thompson, all slight variations on their comic book counterparts. In amongst their class ensemble we have Michelle, presented as a quirky loner who likes to sit quietly in the corner and read or draw in her sketchpad, throwing out random sarcastic comments here and there throughout the movie.

Now, on the surface, all of this seems to be a vast departure from the Mary Jane of the comics, but I am here to argue that she is, in fact, a Mary Jane finally done right. First of all, the obvious is that she is not Peter’s object of affection but a minor character among his group of friends who puts herself off as aloof and detached from any real personal relationships, who actively avoids forming serious bonds with anyone. While comic book Mary Jane may have demonstrated these traits by being a social butterfly and party girl, and movie Michelle demonstrated them by being a social recluse and outcast, the underlying motives behind their respective actions are still there, still the same. Mary Jane and Michelle both distance themselves from serious relationships and both tend to turn everything into a joke to hide their own insecurities.

Like her comic book predecessor, Michelle’s true depth tends to come out through subtext. While we may not know yet if her social handicap is a direct result of an abusive father like the comics, we do see an inherent loneliness in her, exemplified in her final scene of the movie in which she tells the other kids that her friends call her MJ. In response to one stating that he thought she didn’t have any friends, she states that she didn’t, “until now.” At one point, in a detention scene, she states that she enjoys drawing people in a state of crisis. This may also be a nod to her own trauma, but I am reticent to call it more than just a one-liner at this point.

Another intrinsic feature of Mary Jane is her secret attraction to Peter and her knowledge of his secret identity. Throughout the movie, her attraction to Peter is subtle but clear. Even though she is generally apart from everyone else, she is always closer to Peter and Ned in group scenes than anyone else. At several points, one can see her eyes following Peter with a slight hint of concern, including at the dance in the climax and at the scene in the end of the movie. Early on, she even admits to knowing specific details about his schedule, followed by a quick “I’m not obsessed with him or anything. I’m just very observant.” It’s all very subtle, but it’s there.

As for knowing his secret, the evidence is even more negligible, but still enough that if that is the direction the filmmakers go in later installments, viewers will be able to go back and point out said evidence. First of all, by her own admission, she is very observant, and tends to be specifically observant of Peter. Multiple times throughout the film, her eyes follow Peter (as stated before), almost all of which are during times when he is running off to become Spider-Man. And several times, in crowd shots when Peter and Ned are whispering to each other about Peter’s double life, Michelle just happens to be sitting right behind them, completely within earshot. She even slightly teases him a little just before he runs off at the end of the movie with the possibility that he might be hiding something. Again, very subtle, but still reasonably there.

Now, obviously, this is all “early-series” Mary Jane, if you will. It’s easily possible that the filmmakers will completely botch it in the second and third films of the new series or not pursue these plot threads at all. And I’m not entirely convinced of Zendaya’s ability to pull off the more complex and emotional moments of Mary Jane’s character (I’ve seen a bit too much Disney Channel for that). But if they are pursuing this story line, which I believe they are, they have done a fine job laying down the groundwork for what could be a strong and faithful adaptation of one of my favorite Spider-Man characters. It seems clear to me that the writer, at least, has taken the time to really understand who Mary Jane is, what makes her work, and why she works. The writer understands that Mary Jane can never be a great character as long as she is a standard superhero love interest in the same vein as Lois Lane, Pepper Potts, Jane Foster, or Kirsten Dunst’s Mary Jane. I walked away from that new movie feeling as though someone finally got the character. And, well . . . that makes me happy. It really does.

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