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.