I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it now – The Hobbit and Star Wars (the original 1977 movie) are exactly the same story. Really. So is The Wizard of Oz, the movie. They’re all expressions of the classic Hero Journey – a specific story structure.
And yet they’re also totally different. So how does that ‘same but different’ work? It’s one of the biggest challenges fiction writers face. Writers have to be original. But if they’re too original the audience isn’t there. Sure, there’s a kind of ego boost in knowing you’ve just written the sort of stuff that leads to being fawned over by pretentious pseudo-intellectual literati, if you’re in to that sort of gratification. But nobody outside the 3 other people in that circle will have ever heard of you. And validation-by-pretension doesn’t pay the bills.
There are reasons why most novels, stories, plays – any piece of fiction, in fact – fall into a particular shape; the introduction, the exploration of the story, then the denouement. Three acts. Sometimes those acts are subdivided, but every story – one way or another – broadly meets that pattern. I’ve seen it argued that it’s actually hard-wired into human nature. I’ve discussed the hero journey before, and using these examples; but let’s explore, now, exactly HOW they differ.
- Structurally, they’re the same. Tolkien and Lucas adopted exactly the same narrative structure. And it’s totally classic. The hero, who doesn’t know he’s the hero – is kicked out of the everyday world by a dramatic event, and initially guided by a mysterious wise father-figure. Adventures follow during which the hero discovers more about himself and learns. The father-figure is lost, but by this time the hero has learned enough to be able to meet the challenge they then face. They meet the challenge, and then return to the normal world – changed.
- In a narrative sense, however, they’re totally different stories. Tolkien drew on the folk tale tradition, blending that with his evolving Middle Earth imaginarium; Lucas drew on 1940s sci-fi movies. The result was very different characters, plot details, setting and so forth.
I mention these because they’re such clear examples – both The Hobbit and Star Wars follow the hero journey in its specific form. But they’re not alone. For variations, check out Madeleine l’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time, or Ursula Le Guin’s A Wizard of Earthsea.
All these are kids books – but that’s not surprising; the hero journey is very much a ‘coming of age’ story, well suited to younger audiences in particular. Robert A Heinlein used it in all of his ‘juveniles’. That base story also features in adult books, if you know where to look. Tolkien repeated it in adult form in The Lord Of The Rings, with other adult-pitched variations in The Silmarillion. And the ultimate form of the hero journey, to my mind, remains Kerouac’s On The Road. See what I mean about ‘same but different’?
Think of these things as layers. The trope provides the foundation, the base that shapes the story and makes it ‘the same’ for readers, something they can identify with and understand. But above that, the author has to create a wholly new superstructure, original, imaginative and ‘different’ – but which, built on that familiar foundation, carries the reader into it.
Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015