Trope Tuesday: Came Back Strong

This trope, also kown as apotheosis, is by far my favorite part of the hero’s journey.

Up to this point, the hero has faced a lot of tests and trials.  Some of them he’s passed, some of them he hasn’t, but the setbacks haven’t yet been enough to stop him.  Sure, the costs have been high–he may have lost a friend or mentor, for example–but at least he’s still in the game.  Then, just as he experiences the power of love (meeting with the goddess) and reconciles with the ultimate power in his life (atonement with the father), what happens?

He dies.

This may be literal or metaphorical, physical or spiritual–but whatever form it takes, the hero has to lose something significant, up to and including…well, everything.  After all, there are so many things worse than death.  While all the other failures up to this point left him more or less intact, this one completely shatters him–and in the process, transforms him.

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the hero comes back from the dead, often with a level in badass.  By dying, he gains that last piece of knowledge, experience, or resolve that he needs to defeat the big bad and gain the ultimate boon of his quest.  Whoever or whatever he was before, that person wasn’t strong enough to pass the test–but now, he is.

When done well, this is a stand-and-cheer moment of the best possible kind.  It’s the culmination of everything the hero has gone through, not just in terms of plot, but character as well.  Years from now, you might forget everything else in the story–even the parts that you loved–but you’ll remember how you felt when you got to this part.

One of my favorite examples of this trope is in the clip I posted from the Matrix.  Seriously, when Neo realizes that he is The One, that is one of the best moments in all of cinema.  The Empire Strikes Back also has a moment like this, though since the movie is essentially a tragedy, there’s a lot more emphasis on Luke’s death (falling through the gas mine shaft after confronting Darth Vader) than his resurrection (getting a new hand and reuniting with his friends).  The oldest examples, of course, come from mythology–Odin gained the ability to use magic by sacrificing himself on Yggdrasil, and before returning to Ithaca, Odysseus first had to journey to Hades to pay his old friend Agamemnon a visit.

So as writers, how are we supposed to get this trope right?  I’m by no means an expert, but my gut instinct tells me that the way to nail it is to be as excited about this moment in the story as we want our readers to be when we get to that point.  Even though storytelling is ostensibly just making stuff up, it’s not something you can fake–if you aren’t excited about your own story, how do you expect your readers to even care?

Fortunately, this is often the part of the story that drives us to write everything else.  There have definitely been times when I could hardly wait to get through the other stuff and finally write the chapter where this happens.  Bringing Stella Home was a big one–and that’s all I can say, at the risk of giving spoilers.  Star Wanderers is another one, though it wasn’t until I was midway through Fidelity that it really came to me.  Desert Stars was more of a Heroic Second Wind, which is basically Came Back Stronger without the death.  However, there was definitely a transformation, both for Mira and Jalil.

So yeah, I really, really, REALLY love this trope.  When done well, it’s one of those things that can turn a run-of-the-mill adventure story into something both soul-searching and powerful.  You can definitely expect to see me play with it a lot in the future.

Trope Tuesday: The Call to Adventure

One of the first (and most important) stages of the hero’s journey is the call to adventure.  It happens when the hero first confronts something outside the experience of his ordinary world that beacons him to leave it.  It overlaps closely with the inciting incident, and marks the point at which the hero’s journey begins.

However, it is not typically where the story begins.  In order for the hero to leave the ordinary world, he must first start out there, so we know what’s at stake and what he’s leaving behind.  This is why Luke Skywalker starts out on his uncle’s homestead, and why Neo starts out as a bored and lonely employee of Metacortex.  Events outside the hero’s experience may have already put him on a trajectory to leave on the adventure, but he won’t know it until the call comes.

The hero may start out in a quiet, peaceful village, far removed from any sort of conflict–or he may start out in the middle of a crapsack world, as is the case with dystopian fiction.  The important thing is that it’s the world he’s always known–that he hasn’t ever really made an effort to leave or change it.

How he feels about his world largely determines how he chooses to respond to the call.  In older literature, the hero typically refuses it.  The advantage of this is that it gives the reader a sense of scope–that this adventure is not a small or a trivial thing.  It also sets up an immediate minor conflict that gives some motion to the opening chapters.

In modern stories, though, it’s more common for the hero (or his friends) to jump at the call.  There are also many advantages to this.  In Lord of the Rings, it gives Frodo an immediate band of sidekicks.  In Harry Potter, it plays up the sense of wonder at the magical world.  In the Chronicles of Prydain, it highlights the impulsiveness and naivete of Terran, as he realizes later on in the story just how stupid of him it was.

The call itself can take many forms.  It can come as a fateful visitation from a supernatural messenger, a mysterious request from a dying stranger, or a sacred trust from a dying friend.  It can also be more internal, such as an important moment of decision, or a desire to find some greater purpose in life.  Whatever the case, the one thing the hero cannot do is ignore it–at least, not forever.  One way or another, the hero sets out, and the adventure begins.