Tragic Hero is the Best Option Left

Leda, Zeus, Helen, Clytemnestra, Castor, and Pollux

The following is an excerpt of an email sent from Will to Art on 16 June 2014.

As you know, I have the same problem as you do.

I want to convince you of one difference: we have made that tendency of ours part of the project itself. Please read this post by Bob Lefsetz. I can't help but think we are the exact people he is describing here.

Now, no one wants to be the one who goes on one of those singing shows and finds out for the first time in their lives this shocking fact: "I am not only not going to make it but I am also absolutely terrible. The difference between that and us is the total lack of consciousness. Consciousness does seem to be a prerequisite for art, although there may be some counterexamples, like Neil Young for instance.

Of course, all this rationalization is the kind of thing that the protagonist does before being dragged back down into the chorus, back into the primordial, dithyrambic dance. Maybe we have nothing that individuates us from this formless mass of wannabes who refuse to accept their role as "consumers as opposed to creators" (Lefsetz).

We've been talking a lot about Death of a Salesman lately. While not my all-time favorite, the play (and its companion editorial for the New York Times!) is somewhat prophetic of this era in which virtual reality becomes more real than real reality (cf. McLuhan and Baudrillard).

Imagine if Willy had all the tools of the virtual age at his disposal; how much more quickly might he lose touch with reality and plunge headlong toward his demise!

For better or worse, ours is an age where the common man is seized more than ever with a "total compulsion to evaluate himself justly" (Miller). Rightly or wrongly, many in our society believe they have greatness within them, that they must be famous. We have huge, outsized ideas of ourselves and our place in the larger scheme of things.

But before we despair of our quixotic ambitions, consider that this is the very heroism that Arthur Miller thought should be accessible to the common man.

Arthur Miller describes the hero's tragic flaw as "his inherent unwillingness to remain passive in the face of what he conceives to be a challenge to his dignity, his image of his rightful status." As I drill into my students ad nauseam, Willy Loman is the hero of Death of a Salesman, not Charlie or Bernard as they often think! Many of them are stuck in a medieval morality play paradigm wherein a character's downfall = punishment for sin. Not so!

As Miller continues, "Only the passive, only those who accept their lot without active retaliation, are 'flawless.' Most of us are in that category."

So back to our little project. Do I need to explain to you the artistic imperative of building castles in the air (cf. The Master Builder, Thoreau)? We are using these electronic tools in the proper way: to achieve tragic status in the quickest possible way! C'mon now! What would Hilda Wangel say?!

Now, I want to assure you that I am working on the songs. I don't want you to think that there is no substance at all. But I'm intrigued with this idea of NOT building from the ground up. Starting on the ground is a challenge to my dignity. I start with the "image of my rightful status" and go from there!

And, no, this doesn't end well.

But I would much rather end up a tragic hero than a coward or villain or member of the chorus. I guess if I could have my druthers, I'd be an epic hero but, according to Hesiod, Zeus put an end to that age with Helen. Or maybe he already had the idea in mind with Leda.

Tragic hero is the best option left.