Invisible Man

While reading Invisible Man I was full of questions... why did this happen? Does that have significance? Are things going to get better?
Unfortunately, with the turning of the last page, most of my questions weren't answered. And now I have one more question to add to that pile: what does Invisible Man have to do with heroes?
It's odd, for a while I searched for an answer. I believed there had to be some sort of hero in the book, that heroes are always present, but I find that I was very wrong. The saddest thing about Invisible Man is that there are no heroes. Not one. Everyone's, well, ordinary. And the more I think about it the more I realize that there aren't many heroic acts in the novel either. Almost all the characters are in it for themselves or at the mercy of the other characters.
Which begs the question: are there really no heroes? 
Maybe it's just my stubbornness, but I refuse to believe that. I don't care that Invisible Man is hailed as one of the best works of fiction this world has ever seen and that Ellison wrote one of the greatest novels in history: he was wrong. It doesn't matter if you're flawed or a minority or even selfish, anyone, everyone, has the potential to be a hero. Even the invisible man with his skills, his powerful speeches, and his heart, doesn't loses his potential to be a hero because of his narrow-minded view of the world. He fails to see the big picture and doesn't care if he can or not.
As I type this I realize that I have poorly said everything I want to say, but I don't know how to say it. The frustration, the irritation, the disappointment... I had hoped for more from Invisible Man; some great truth, some divine enlightenment, a moral for goodness sake, but I just came away with questions. So many questions.

be ye a hero?

According to the dictionary, a hero is "a person who is admired for courage or noble qualities".
Interesting, how the literal definition of a hero has nothing to do with out typical idea of what a hero is. Don't heroes wear spandex? Don't they fight crime late at night under a pseudonym?
Following the "modern" definition of a hero, there are no heroes in Henry IV, Part I. The only mention of late night crime is from the people committing the crimes. That is not exactly heroic, if you ask me.
But then, looking at the literal definition of a hero I think Henry IV, Part I has more heroes than one might think.
Hal, for instance, is quite heroic. He's an underdog; a man born into nobility who doesn't quite get credit as a prince. But as the play progresses Hal gives up his old ways, his childish antics, and his immaturity. He steps into the noble position he was born into, but doesn't simply see nobility as a label, or a crown upon his head, but as a personality trait; a way of life. Hal also carries out his promises to "falsify men's hopes" and "redeeming time when men think least I will" (1.2.218, 224).
Oddy enough, Hal's heroism reminds me of Batman's. Bruce Wayne was a rebellious kid. So was Hal. Bruce was angry at the world, and Alfred and Lucius Fox worried for him and his future, until he changed. He became somebody worthy, somebody heroic. Hal was squashed by people's opinions of him, and even the King didn't think he would amount to much, until he changed. He became a Prince, and not just any Prince, but a Prince worthy of becoming a King.
Yes, maybe Batman's heroism involves a cape and black tights, but Bruce Wayne is just a misunderstood young man who has the ability to be great. 
Heroism is more than just being a swashbuckling rogue, or a gentlemen who looks really good in a pair of tights. It's about having a noble character, and defying beliefs, breaking molds, and raising standards.
That's why we call people who jump in front of guns during theater shooting heroes, and people who run into burning buildings to save lives heroes. That's why we call people like Rosa Parks heroes: because they break molds, raise standards and portraying a character of excellence.

the most unlikely hero

The words "tragic hero" accurately describe Oedipus. In fact, I can't think of a better word to describe his life than "tragic". Let's just be honest: Oedipus' life stinks (not stinks as in smells, stinks as in is terrible). When the oracle tells Oedipus he's doomed to kill his father and marry his mother, he runs away from Corinth to protect his father and mother because he loves them. Little does he know, the king and queen of Corinth aren't really his parents, and instead of running from his terrible fate, he's running to it.
When he's on the road, he kills his real father, King Laos, because he forces Oedipus rudely off the road.
When Oedipus arrives in Thebes he breaks the curse the sphinx had on the kingdom and brings Oedipus one step closer to his horrible fate. Then he unknowingly marries his mother. Then Thebes is plunged into a horrible season of famine and it's all because of Oedipus.

As far as we know, every action Oedipus made was with the best intentions. Oedipus wants what is best for his life and his people. When he hears that King Laos' murderer is the cause of Thebes' misfortunes, he vows to avenge the late king. When he hears he could be the murderer, he is hurt and angry, but still wants to keep his word.

Oedipus loves his people and justice, just as a hero ought to. He wants to do what is best for himself and for everyone. He left Corinth to protect his "parents" and solved the Sphinx's riddle to help the people of Thebes. In everything he has good intentions, but he is bound to an unfortunate fate; a tragic fate.
Oedipus Rex is a tragic play of a tragic hero because Oedipus exhibits many heroic qualities, but they lead to his demise. He doesn't get a chance to actually be heroic. It is tragic because, no matter what, Oedipus gives of himself when he cannot fix the darkness and disappointment swirling around him.

I feel sorry for him. He cares so much, and really does long for justice and freedom, but can only attain it at the cost of his life. It's tragic that someone with such heroic potential has no option but to die.

the big q.

For the past few days I’ve been thinking about what a hero’s role in every culture could be. Perhaps it’s to defend the weak, innocent, and defenseless. Or maybe it’s to create a person that everyone can look up to, and strive to be like. Maybe it’s just for entertainment. Or maybe heroes are far more important than any of those reasons. 

I’m reminded of the night, just a few months ago where I watched one of my favorite heroes impress me once again. After a three hour wait the theater lights finally dim. I pull my knees up to my chest and stare at the screen. I feel a small tingle in my body that adds to the excitement laced in the air around the anticipating crowd. My breath catches in my throat as soon as Batman makes his appearance. He rolls onto a highway on his cool motorcycle with high-tech gear, and the audience cheers. 

But we’re not really cheering for Batman's return (though that’s cool) or his really fancy weapons (which are equally as cool); we’re cheering for something else; his heroic return, his fearless heart or, more importantly, his relentless spirit. I’m not simply cheering for the man in the suit, but the man behind the mask; the man who watched his parent’s murder and refused to believe it was the end of the world. I’m cheering for the man who lost his one true love, the man with a heart unwilling to kill even the most evil of villains. I’m cheering for the billionaire who promises to be a guilty cities’ guardian, who vows to protect even the people who hate him most. 

I think that’s why we like heroes like Batman, Spiderman, or Captain America: because they love. They love justice. They love freedom. They love the value of the lives they swear to protect, the thousands of lives they don’t even know. Heroes love like very few people in this world anymore. In fact, their love is almost unconditional. That sort of love is lacking in every culture. And everyone needs love, so every wants heroes. And their heroes don’t necessarily have to be the kind with big muscles and stretchy spandex suits, they can be anyone. They can be grocers, carpenters, bus drivers, teenagers, ex-marines, moms, dads, fictional characters, anyone. 

When I was little my dad would sit in the hallway and read The Chronicles of Narnia to us. My siblings and I would curl up in our beds and be lulled to sleep by his magical voice and the incredible spirits of children who risked everything to save Narnia. When I was thirteen I fell in love with the Maximum Ride novels and Max's witty humor, relentless spirit, and endless dedication to save the world. In tenth grade I watched Saving Private Ryan and cried because the soldiers in Captain Millar's platoon are all greater heroes than fiction can create. They're not necessarily typical heroes, but they all sacrifice themselves for Private Ryan, a man whom many of them don't think deserves to be saved, yet they don't argue. They just give the greatest sacrifice they can.

For me, heroes have always been ordinary people with extraordinary love.Occasionally they have superpowers, billions of dollars, wings, and drool-worthy batmobiles, but more often than not, they are simply ordinary people. Ordinary people that help me be less ordinary and more loving... more heroic.