Everyday Mythology

From Menletter October 2011

By Tim Baehr

Heroes, helpers, and ogres.

A terrified hero - the youngest son, Cinderella, a hobbit, Pinocchio, the hapless prince in the Firebird, or any of a host of others.

An unlikely helper - a disfigured dwarf, a fairy godmother, an ugly witch, a talking animal, or (yes) any of a host of others.

An ogre or other insurmountable obstacle - the cruel king or queen, a stepmother, a monster, an impossible task, a giant, Darth Vader, or (yes again) any of a host of others.

Add to these characters a plot involving a series of tests, or a quest, or some kind of journey, often with situations in which it seems that all is lost - and we have the basis for countless fairytales across many cultures and times.

One theory about myths and fairytales is that they reflect the essential psychology of a culture and constitute a set of universal truths in metaphorical form. They are stories not bound to time and place ("Once upon a time in a country far, far away").

Most of us probably regard myths as fantastic stories for the entertainment of children and the fascination of scholars and guys at men's gatherings. After all, if we really want to know anything about our psyches, we have a long tradition of scientific inquiry to rely on. But the heroic tales are also part of our psyches. We may not be able to recite all the Grimm tales or become experts in Russian or African folklore. But we have modern examples as part of our collective even if the old heroes are left in the dust: Luke Skywalker, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Frodo Baggins, Harry Potter, to name just a few.

I live inside my own myths. I'm the hero of many intertwined threads of story, playing themselves out over my lifetime. Every day I face adversaries (sometimes internal ones), often with the odds stacked against me. Every day I'm tested in some way. And every so often I come across an unlikely ally, whom sometimes I reject and sometimes I befriend. And there are many more setbacks and stalemates than outright victories. At least on the metaphorical level, isn't that your experience too?

But it doesn't stop there. I think one seldom-realized lesson from fairytales is that we are characters in other people's stories. These other people are part of my story, but I'm also part of their story.

And we're not necessarily just incidental characters in each other's stories. It's easy for me to imagine myself the hero, trembling in terror, wrestling with ogres, or dancing in victory. But I may also be the helper in your story. Or I may be the ogre or some other obstacle. You may be an ogre to me, or you may turn out to be my helper.

When my story intersects your story, especially when there is some kind of conflict, I try to remember to ask: Whose story are we in? Who is the hero? Who is the helper? Who is the ogre? An element in a lot of traditional stories is the disguise or the hidden identity. Sometimes I need to wait for our stories to proceed a bit before either of us knows who's who.

Things get even more complicated when the multiple threads of my own stories intertwine. I can be my own worst enemy, my own best friend and ally, or my own hero wrestling with inner demons - perhaps a combination of all three! Are any of my internal characters hiding behind masks or secret identities?

If time and place are malleable phenomena in traditional myths and fairy tales, what are they in our day-to-day lives? I think the traditional stories are telling us that our own multiple, on-going life stories happen in "real" time but also in a realm out of time and place. The threads of our stories are part of a universal fabric whose threads are constantly being twined and untwined, knit and unraveled, woven and pulled apart.