9. About Heroes

Everybody has a hero in his mind at one time or other. American young people in the 1970's worshiped John Lennon as a hero, though young people of the present day may think quite differently. They have their own heroes. Why is this so and why is it so important for us to have heroes?

The word hero can be confusing, for it has several meanings. It is often applied to ordinary people who happen to perform an act of great courage—a fireman who saves someone from a burning house at the risk of his own life, for example. Then, the principal character of a play, a novel, or a film is known as the hero of the story, even if he is not particularly brave. But the heroes and heroines that we are going to consider now constitute a third group. They are the giants, the out-of-the-ordinary figures whose superiority fills our hearts with admiration and awe; the men and women who give us a high example to follow, a purpose in life, or sometimes just a dream, because they represent the person that we would like to be.

Humanity has always had such heroes. Some have been the saviors or the builders of their country, like George Washington, who gave generations of Americans their model of determination, selflessness, and honor. Others have been religious leaders or gorgeous women; conquerors, athletes, or pioneers; characters in novels or revolutionaries; saints, sinners, likable robbers, or movie stars. Whatever they did, they were all stars—shining, glorious, showing the way to their followers below. The desire to be worthy of them could bring out the best in their admirers.

Many articles have appeared in recent years, claiming that there are no more heroes in the Western world. The authors say that, particularly in Europe and North America, the young now refuse to admire anyone; that we are living in a world too well informed, too curious and critical for hero worship. The press, books, and television keep showing us the faults of the public figures who could become today's stars, until we lose faith and start looking for defects in any person who seems worthy of respect. In a neighbor or a statesman, we try to discover the weaknesses, failures, or ugly motives that are surely hiding behind his noblest actions.

Is it true that we know too much? Were our ancestors lucky to be only partly informed? Those who read the first biographies of Charlemagne, George Washington, Joan of Arc, or other great men and women of the past were not told that their hero had bad breath or disliked his mother; they only found a description of his great accomplishments and their admiration was strengthened. In fact, early biographers didn't hesitate to make up an admirable story or two about their hero. The man who wrote the first biography of Washington, for instance, invented the cherry tree; he admitted later that there was no truth in it, but he said that it was in character and that it would give young men a good example to follow. His readers didn't seem to object; the book was reprinted eighty times—a tremendous success in those days.

Modern biographers do not invent such stories; they respect the facts, as indeed they should. But we pay a price for their truthfulness, for in their efforts to show "the whole person", they tell us more than we really need to know about private lives, family secrets, and human weaknesses. The true greatness of a fine man is often forgotten in the display; and people lose not only their admiration for him, but their willingness to trust any other "star" completely.

This shows clearly in the remarks of a group of high-school students near Los Angeles, who were asked whom they admired. "Nobody," said a young man, "because the objects of our early admiration have been destroyed. People we wanted to believe in have been described to us with all their faults and imperfections; that makes it hard to trust the 'historical' heroes." Another student, a girl, added, "The people we try to imitate are the unknown adults, the non-celebrities in our lives. Instead of dreaming of being like some famous woman somewhere, I want to be like my mom's best friend, whom no one in this room would know. But I know and admire her, and that's enough for me."

The qualities required of a hero vary with the times, and some great figures of a certain period would surprise the people of another generation. Consider the explosion of love and grief that followed the death of John Lennon in December 1980. Few deaths have caused such deep sorrow, such mourning, in so many countries throughout the history of the world. There is no doubt that Lennon was a hero for his mourners. Why? What had he done that was so remarkable? "John was not just a musician," says one of his admirers. "He had known how to express my generation's feelings in the late 1960s. He was our voice and our guide; he changed with us over the years, always a little ahead of us; he opened new horizons for us and encouraged us to venture farther, to dare. To us he talked of love and peace; he was the big brother we needed in a troubled time." Some of Lennon's admirers may have been aware that he was not perfect; but they chose to ignore his dark side to remain grateful for the positive contribution he had made in their lives. There are surely many people who don't consider John Lennon a hero, who in fact have a very low opinion of him. But it is not unusual for one person's hero to be another person's villain. Think of all the leaders, revolutionaries, and conquerors who are deeply respected by one nation, one religious group, or one generation, and despised or hated by others.

Television and films offer many shallow heroes to their young audiences. Many parents are unhappy to see their children's admiration for Superman, Spiderman, or for some extravagant rock singer without ideas or talent. But such heroes do not last very long; and after a few years the growing teenagers are laughing at these objects of their young admiration. They start looking for better guides. And no matter what they say, they do find them. The student who was wise enough to recognize qualities in her mother's friend has a perfectly good heroine of her own, and one who is much easier to imitate than George Washington or Clara Barton.

It may be difficult to be a hero in the Western world these days, under the searching eyes of a critical society. But surely excellence has not disappeared completely; there are still individuals who are superior to their fellow men by their wisdom, their courage, or their character. They can be heroes if people are willing to ignore their human imperfections and to admit the respect that their admirable qualities inspire. Heroes are needed everywhere, at any time. It's a sad sky that has no shining stars.

From A Changing Scene, ed. Lucette Rollet Kenan,

New York, 1982.