Editorial: The Evolution Of Star Wars As A Legitimate Modern Mythology
The Evolution of Star Wars as a Legitimate Modern Mythology
By Candy Wilder
Star Wars fans are a passionate bunch. Almost as amazing as their enthusiasm are the copious ways in which that enthusiasm manifests itself. There are Original Trilogy fans, Prequel Trilogy fans, All-Six-Movies fans (seven if you count The Clone Wars movie), and avid watchers of The Clone Wars TV series. There are devoted followers of the Expanded Universe, which includes comics, novels, video games, and multimedia. Costumers, gamers, and collectors are all very active, and let’s not forget the fan fiction writers, fan artists, and fan filmmakers. George Lucas’ humble little 1977 sci-fi flick has evolved into an heroic saga spanning tens of thousands of years, growing to encompass every form of fandom imaginable.
With this tremendous growth in such a short period of time, conflict was bound to occur. It started slowly: An Ewok Adventure TV movie here, a Marvel comic there, a Star Tours ride at Disneyland. All rather innocuous in hindsight – not many fans walked out of Disneyland after riding Star Tours shouting, “A third Death Star? THAT’s not Canon!” But then came the Timothy Zahn novels, coinciding with Dark Horse’s Dark Empire comic miniseries. These were followed by the Original Trilogy Special Editions, which featured enhanced visual effects, altered dialogue, character insertions, and Greedo shooting first. After that came the Prequel Trilogy, which, beginning thirty years before A New Hope, felt like the insertion of an entirely new universe into the existing saga.
While these movies were being made and shown, the comic and novel component, now called the Expanded Universe, took off, generating enough reading material to fill a Star Destroyer. Then came the videogames, like Battlefront, LEGO Star Wars, and The Force Unleashed. At any time, there are hundreds of people working to bring new Star Wars stories to the fans, whether in film, television, video game, comic, or novel form. The creative output has become so prolific that Lucasfilm has created no less than four levels of “canon,” to classify the authoritativeness of the stories. This very concept, however, became a source of contention when some fans refused to accept the changes in the Special Editions. There are comics and novels that conflict with G-level canon and sometimes with each other. Events in the Prequel Trilogy sometimes bump their noses up against dialogue from the Original Trilogy. (Example: “I haven’t been called Obi-Wan since, oh, before you were born.”) Lucas’ direct involvement with The Clone Wars has thrown fans of the Expanded Universe into a tizzy, as beloved books are suddenly made invalid by one episode of The Clone Wars.
Or are they?
Star Wars is often compared to ancient mythology. It is common knowledge that the work of Joseph Campbell, the great mythic scholar, had a huge influence on George Lucas while he was forming the trilogies. The characters’ journeys in the films mirror many of those from our world’s mythology. Luke Skywalker can be compared to Arthur Pendragon, who became King of the Britons upon removal of Excalibur from a stone (or receiving it from the Lady of the Lake, depending on who you read); King David, who slew the giant Goliath with a slingshot, echoing the destruction of the Death Star by a tiny proton torpedo fired by a young hero just beginning to trust the Force; and Diomedes, the Greek hero of the battle of Troy who refused to fight Glaucus, leader of the Trojan-allied Lycians, because he had ties to Diomedes’ family (Willis, 61 and 213). Luke’s journey into the Dark Side-infused cave on Dagobah, in which he must confront the darkness within him as well as the very concept of darkness itself, parallels the descent fables of the Goddesses Innana and Persephone, who, in the earliest incarnations of their myths, travelled to the Underworld to learn the mysteries of Death and bring that wisdom back to the living (Farrar and Farrar I, 104).
Luke’s father, Anakin, shares many traits with the Greek hero Heracles, who murdered his entire family in a fit of madness inflicted upon him; Sir Gawain, who tried to control his fear but failed when he flinched in his confrontation with the Green Knight; Achilles, who was invincible in battle until his weakness was exposed (his unprotected heel); and the biblical Prodigal Son, who was welcomed back home warmly upon his repentance. The temptation and fall from Paradise, with the eventual restoration back into it, is one of the myths found in some form in every culture in the world.
But there are two factors that keep people from regarding Star Wars itself as a legitimate modern mythology. The first is that, unlike ancient times, we know, with 100% certainty, that the Star Wars saga is a work of fiction. We know that all the plots and characters in the films were created for the express purpose of telling a story. Other Star Wars stories have been written, both authorized and not, but all are understood to be fictional works. The second factor is that we know who made the story, and, if that story is changed, we know exactly who changed it. In the case of the films, from which everything else sprung, that individual is George Lucas. But does knowing Star Wars is fiction, knowing who created it, and knowing who makes the changes to our beloved stories invalidate the Star Wars saga as a modern mythology? I believe not.
One of the primary functions of mythology is to convey universal truths in an easy-to-understand format. That is why so many myths across the globe have nearly identical plots and messages. The characters may vary according to culture, but not so much that we cannot recognize ourselves in them. The most prominent example of a universal myth is the Hero’s Journey, which Campbell expounds on in his book, The Hero with a Thousand Faces. The Hero’s Journey can be traced in the tales of the Greek demigod Perseus, the Chinese woman warrior Fa Mu Lan, the Major Arcana of the Tarot, and, of course, Star Wars. In ancient times, storytelling was more than an oral tradition. It was a sacred act, seen as an absolute necessity which, along with the act of ritual, imparted the wisdom of the elders to the next generation.
Flash forward to today. Stories are delivered through an astounding variety of media – film, TV, radio, novels, comics, plays, video games, art, and the good ol’ campfire ghost story. The general public regards these as chiefly entertainment – mere diversions, a fun way to pass the time.
However, if you ask Star Wars fans who are parents why they are so enthusiastic to share Star Wars with their children, they will tell you about the good “message” in the Star Wars saga. It isn’t simply a Saturday night movie. Within those six films and the TV series is the same ancient wisdom that has been transmitted through mythology and folklore over millennia. It doesn’t matter whether we know George made them and that they’re pure fiction. It is the themes embedded throughout, and the lessons they teach, that elevate the Star Wars saga into the realm of legitimate mythology.
Want more proof? Just like any other myth, Star Wars has undergone constant, gradual evolution. With this comes the multiple and contradictory storylines mentioned earlier. All of this is okay, as it is a characteristic of a healthy, well-developed mythology. In Greece, Goddesses like Hera and Medusa, and Gods like Dionysus, had much different personalities and roles before their followers were conquered by the followers of Zeus. Subsequently, the mythology was revised to make Zeus the king of the Gods, and the personalities and roles of the other Goddesses and Gods changed substantially. Many were changed again when the Greek Gods were incorporated into the pantheon of the Roman Empire, complete with name changes. Epic poems like the Virgil’s The Aeneid and Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey, despite being composed by identifiable individuals, are now regarded as part of the very mythology that inspired their creation. The Bible underwent several translations before becoming standardized, but even now there is not one universally-accepted Bible, but two or three different versions. Innana of Sumeria, mentioned earlier, has one of three reasons for going to the Underworld, depending on the age the story: one, to gain deep wisdom; two, to reconcile with her sister Ereshkigal, the queen of the Underworld and dealer of Death; or three, to rescue her consort, Tammuz. And Grimm’s fairy tales are typically much darker than their Disney incarnations.
Multiplicity of stories, even when they conflict, is a natural part of the growth of myths. This is why we should not become upset when a plotline from the top levels of canon contradicts something previously written in the Expanded Universe. Certainly, if it contradicts a story you’re particularly fond of, it’s disconcerting. But when looked at from a larger perspective, through the filter of the evolution of mythology throughout history, it is evident that there is room for every version of a tale, and you can simply choose to hold to the version that resonates with you the strongest. (And if that’s still not satisfactory, you can write your own version and make a fan film!)
Please note that I am not advocating using Star Wars as a basis for a religious structure (Jedi Church of England notwithstanding). As stated before, Star Wars is a work of fiction, created by one man who drew on many previous myths for inspiration. The point is that knowing it is fiction does not invalidate its value as a rich, well-developed, and legitimate mythology. The same goes for other popular series that capture the imagination, such as Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter. Any well-known story that reflects mythic archetypes, and is life-affirming at its core, can be regarded as a modern mythology.
“But Candy,” I hear you ask, “if a mythology like Star Wars is not meant to be the foundation of a religious structure, then what role DOES it have?” Religious anthropologists Scott Leonard and Michael McLure, commenting on Joseph Campbell, present an enlightening insight that is helpful:
Campbell openly acknowledged the influence of Jung and Freud on his work. Yet he never seems quite at home with Jung’s collective unconscious. Rather, the American mythologist always saw myth as the story of the rugged individual who realizes his true nature through heroic struggle. Archetypal symbols and universals there may be, Campbell seems to say, but mythology is ultimately and always the vehicle through which the individual finds a sense of identity and a place in the world (Moro et al., 55).
Star Wars is a legitimate modern mythology because it provides the ideal vehicle for us to discover and explore who we are through the adventures of beloved characters who resonate so strongly with us. It is not a replacement for our belief systems, but rather a complement to them. Like any mythology, it grows and changes, becoming ever more rich and fascinating in its complexity and hidden wisdom. The astounding variety of stories that fall under the umbrella of Star Wars means that every individual can find something of value to their lives in at least one such story. The squabbles over "canon," seen in this light, become irrelevant. That we have such a meaningful, symbolic, engaging, and EXPANDING mythology to enjoy and share in these fast-moving modern times is marvelous indeed.
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