Heroes

Why does the story teller need to take the hero into dark ways alone? When we get to the final gunfight, how come it’s the hero standing there: in outer space, in a dusty Western street, at one end of a shotgun, or one end of a classroom, a board room, a computer terminal, while the flickering numbers count down toward an explosion? Why are the townspeople watching from inside the saloon, the crew waiting back at the spaceship? Why did everyone else go home?
When his one-on-one encounter arrives, whether it’s with the villain, technology, Nature, or himself, the hero’s complete character, his history, his ethics, and his future are all being called into account. If there were others involved in this ultimate confrontation, we would not see the hero’s character revealed (not meant to be a pun). The fame or blame would be diluted. So would the weight and consequences of his choices.
When our character stands alone, he becomes universal, and archetypal. He drops societal labels to step outside time. A man who follows his truth is as valid in ancient Greece as he is in 1938 Poland or 2008 America. His neighbors may have judged him: simple, rigid, nerd, but in those accountable moments, he is beyond judgment. It’s his ethics and morals that drive his actions, not what his neighbors thought of his clothing style. Once he has completed his journey, faced the test, then the townspeople crowd around to congratulate (and temporarily suspend fashion judgment). During the test, they are absent.
Why does the hero in just about every story need to face an ultimate danger alone? So we can recognize the hero qualities. So we have a proven hero. What makes a hero? In a perfectly circular reasoning: Someone willing to go out alone. Whatever other characteristics the writer has needed for this particular story and this particular hero - honestly, bravery, strength, intelligence – we need the hero to be distinguished even from the rest of the characters who work alongside him, on his team. Heroes are ultimately solitary.
That solitary aspect includes more than facing the climactic test alone. In order to reach that point in his life and the story we are reading or watching, the hero must have found himself, and the way we find ourselves is to move out of the crowd, at whatever the cost and consequences. The hero needs to be burned by his solitary time. During it, he has no guarantees that he will emerge a hero. What he does have is the testing time, where he will find himself and re-find characteristics that will serve him, should he choose to accept the hero’s calling. But he must spend his preparation alone: in the desert, lost at sea, shunned by the playground clique, or sitting in his room. Those who stay within the comfort of the crowd are comfortable. They are forgettable. If our character were standing amid a crowd, we would not know him for the hero.
The effect holds true for every one, to a larger or lesser extent. In order to find ourselves and to be a hero to the extent we wish to, in our lives: we need to have passed through that self-examination time, whether physically or intellectually or emotionally, before we can come back to help others. Before we can help others, we need to have passed through our own time alone. There are many more heroes than appear on tv and movies screens, the final pages of stories, or standing in the dust of a Western town.