“Attack of Literacy”
Posted by Matt Staggs
I’m fond of this t-shirt. I’m a sucker for any sort of remix of 1950’s classic horror and science fiction imagery, but I especially like the not-too-pleasant message underneath this particular homage: reading and the pursuit of intellectual goals are both undesirable things in the popular culture of the United States, and that’s scary to me.
The rejection of the intellect is supported and reinforced through all manner of pop culture archetypes, from the imagery of the nerd with thick glasses and a sackful of books to the effete cultural elitist who stands in the way of our protagonist, Mr. Joe Common, in popular movies.
I’m having a hard time thinking of any heroes from popular movies or television who are both well-read and competent, likable men or women. The closest that popular culture comes to this sort of combination is seen in “acceptable†intellectual weirdos like mad scientists and doddering professors – at best supporting characters who hamper and enable the common hero at equal turns. I strongly classify the recent spate of quasi-scientific crime programs as part of this trend: the more competent and intellectually strong the men and women in the labs are, the less socially adept they appear.
Even when the creators of popular entertainment move forward with a smart hero, they often choose to represent him or her in an unrealistic manner. Let’s face it, Indiana Jones is entirely unlike any archaeologist you’re likely to ever meet, and even he’s better at using his whip, fist and gun than his educational and intellectual gifts.
As well as serving as reinforcement for these sorts of cultural ideals, the anti-intellectualization seen in popular culture may also be so strong because it reflects the strengths and means of the average viewer. While one can hardly blame an advertising driven medium like television for attempting to reach the lowest common denominator, providing a mirror reflection like this creates a sort of negative feedback loop: why bother to strengthen the mind when my heroes say its unnecessary, and why create smart heroes when there’s no audience?
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Can you tell me about some smart heroes that might not fit any of the above categories? Who are your favorites from any medium: books, movies, comics?
June 3, 2008 at 10:20 am
One example that comes to mind is Lemony Snicket’s Series of Unfortunate Events. The two older characters Violet and Klaus are book smart, and the books (er, at the least the first one–that’s as far as I’ve gotten!) show them using their booksmarts to grapple successfully with the world. The book(s)’ narrator also invites the readers to get enjoyment out of nuanced language (sticking in higher-level vocabulary and then being funny while explaining the words’ meanings).
June 3, 2008 at 10:20 am
“Can you tell me about some smart heroes that might not fit any of the above categories?”
Jeff Goldblum in Independence Day… Sam Neill in Jurassic Park… let’s face it, writers (even screenwriters!) are generally intellectual fans, occasionally snobs (‘cos it goes both way here, guys), who probably would like to dispell this myth too.
As much as I’m pointing out characters in blockbusters, though, I do think Matt has a point. There’s pressure from the studios, I’d imagine.
And I’ve got to stop commenting on every damn post you do, Jeff, but fuck it man, you’re blogging interesting stuff. n’ that’s not easy to be consistant in. Good job.
June 3, 2008 at 10:27 am
Also, I’ve got to stop missing the fact that Jeff has guest bloggers… it’s not so apparent on the LJ feed! :p
June 3, 2008 at 12:16 pm
Let’s face it, Indiana Jones is entirely unlike any archaeologist you’re likely to ever meet, and even he’s better at using his whip, fist and gun than his educational and intellectual gifts.
I have been thinking about precisely this issue—a few nights ago I watched Leslie Howard in Pimpernel Smith (1941) and I could not think of the last time I’d seen an archaeologist hero whose heroics are not two-fisted. The film is a wartime update of The Scarlet Pimpernel, in whose definitive incarnation Leslie Howard had starred in 1934, but it’s much more than a propagandistic pastiche. I will not get into all the layers of identity and the weirdly numinous turns the story takes, but I loved very much the fact that where Sir Percy Blakeney’s careless foppery was merely a mask for his steel and nerve, the idealism and academic tenacity of Horatio Smith, Professor of Archaeology at the Cambridge Museum of Antiquities, are essential features of his character. He parlays them into an excellent blind for his activities (spiriting scientists, artists, intellectuals, radicals, all manner of worthwhile and endangered people out of Germany in 1939, right before all hell breaks loose), but he is acting a broadly drawn version of himself, not inventing an entire other persona. When his identity as a latter-day Pimpernel is discovered by a complement of students who have accompanied him to Germany, where he is leading an expedition in search of an ancient Aryan civilization, we expect to learn next that the dig is merely a pretext to get him across the border—in fact, Smith treats it seriously. His facts and dates are all at his fingertips. A statue he discovered is one of his greatest loves. He’s not even remotely looking for an ancient Aryan civilization, which is as much tosh as the Reichminister von Graum (a sort of stand-in for Goebbels)’s insistence that Shakespeare was really German, but he is passionate about people and art and knowledge and the preservation thereof; he plans his rescues as meticulously as he outfits and catalogues his excavations, with the same fine results.
This is an adventure story in which the hero never fires a gun. There are no fight scenes. The emphasis is all on Smith’s ingenuity, his quick thinking that keeps him one step ahead of his pursuers (who are not comic villains, either. Von Graum is introduced satirically, up to his elbows in English literature as he attempts to fathom their national sense of humor, which he has heard referred to as their secret weapon—disgusted, he concludes that only a nation of imbeciles could have produced P.G. Wodehouse, Lewis Carroll, and Edward Lear all in one—but his contemptuous dismissal of whatever he does not understand is not laughable, but dangerous. He’s no spymaster Chauvelin with a web of plots, but a thug who fancies himself a student of human nature, his blunt force arrogance in contrast to Horatio Smith, who may be audacious, but still considers himself ultimately unimportant when weighed against the potential world-changers whose lives he saves), and at no point is his other, genuine life of the mind rendered irrelevant by his heroism. He carries a photograph of Aphrodite Kallipygos in his wallet, but the human girl he falls for is not statuesque eye candy, but a fit match for an elusive professor, insightful enough to peg him instantly as the mysterious resistance leader, courageous enough to risk her life unasked. This is an extraordinary theme for a war movie, all the more so because it is not pushed at the audience, only discernible in the subtext, like the anti-intellectual stereotype that you discuss here, that is Horatio Smith’s best camouflage.
And the character won my heart from the moment he pronounced “chiton” correctly, let’s face it. His introduction to the audience is a mini-lecture on Aphrodite, and how awesome is that?
June 3, 2008 at 1:06 pm
The Bush presidency is argument enough for the prevailing climate of anti-intellectualism in pop culture if you ask me. I’ll never forget the one ’04 presidential debate where Kerry explained his position on abortion – a pretty straightforward ‘there’s no way of knowing, so we split the difference’ argument, if I remember correctly – to which Bush just laughed, and with a pained face said, “What’s he talking about?” And the audience roared.
The real questions, if you ask me, are How did this state of affairs come about? and more importantly, How do we bring about change? You could say that I’ve pinned my career on this issue.
I actually think that intellectual culture shares the brunt of the blame. And that so long as intellectual culture keeps redirecting critical talent away from popular culture (through the inculcation of elitist, audience sorting values) this situation will only get worse – and at a time when we can least afford it. As it stands now, the most talented voices of our day are little more than high-end entertainers, intellectual apologists, writing only for those who already share the bulk of their attitudes and values.
Then they wring their hands and ask “What happened?”
It just so happens that humans are naturally predisposed to prefer things like conventionality and spectacle (they are cultural universals for a reason), and as soon as you turn these into negatives, as soon as becoming intellectually credible requires that you systematically eschew conventionality and spectacle in favour of the experimental and the quotidian, you are selecting audiences who already agree with the bulk of your values.
Since it’s hard to argue with people who already agree with you, all you can do is entertain.
And if you believe, as I do, that challenging readers is a necessary condition of literature, it means that literature only happens where authors can still argue with readers, where writing still has differences to bridge.
Commercial genre.
June 3, 2008 at 1:59 pm
Hari Seldon (Foundation by Isaac Asimov), Professor Bernardo de la Paz (The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein), does Larry Niven’s Sigmund Ausfaller (Juggler of Worlds) count? Hmm, you’re right; this is hard. Most of the intellectual heroes I can think of do seem to be “wild-eyed scientists” of one stripe or another.
June 4, 2008 at 7:11 am
The first one to spring to mind is Mohinder Suresh from NBC’s HEROES, who’s portrayed as the more practical son of a mad(dish) scientist.