Unglücklich das Land, das Helden nötig hat

While, it is true, “Unglücklich das Land, das Helden nötig hat” (“Unhappy (unfortunate) the land that has need of heroes”)¹ appears in Bertolt Brecht’s Lebens des Galilei (Life of the Galilei), it is necessary to note that it is, in said play, Galileo Galilei’s rejection of an Andrea Sarti’s “Unglücklich das Land, das keine Helden hat” (“Unhappy (unfortunate) the land that has not any heroes”). Taken together, the implication is that the land in need of heroes is unhappy not for lack of heroes—the absence of heroes is not cause for unhappiness—but for the same reason that heroes are needed.

What, specifically, the term “hero” denotes varies from person to person; but typically, the actions considered heroic are those which correct a situation which is horrific or unpleasant. The need for heroes, then, implies the existence of such an unfortunate situation; that the land in an unhappy situation might possibly be an unhappy land, of course, is, if not tautological, at least not difficult to believe. Broadly speaking, heroes right wrongs; righting wrongs is the common trait which distinguishes the heroes from others of their kind. There is some fuzziness in the case where one makes an attempt and fails—heroic effort does also tend to be considered heroic²; and what is wrong and how it can become right depends on the judge’s sense of morals and ethics (to which we might attribute the individual differences in what actions are considered heroic).

The heroic journey³, I would say, like the hero itself, is defined by conflicts and confrontations. There is, preexisting, a problem. In lengthier works of fiction, it generally a complex problem with many parts, so that there is a sense of continuity and progression in the resolution of the parts; in life, on the contrary, acts of heroism tend to be disconnected, discrete entities, only occasionally involving the same person or people. (Of course, there is variation: episodic works, such as the Lazarillo⁴, for example, follow the latter model, and, say, long-term, large-scale political schemes often follow the former.)

As something of an aside, the hero’s underlying basis of conflict perhaps contributes to a lack of women as hero(in)es: patriarchal societies tend to associate, not only conflict, but also the resolution to address it and the importance which follows, with the masculine. While I do not recognise a distinction between manners by which the actions of men and women ought to be judged—in principle, I don’t recognise gender as a valid reason to distinguish in general—most societies, both historical and actual, are patriarchal (albeit to varying degrees).

And if, as a society, the qualities of a hero are considered appropriate for man and not for woman, then naturally a hero cannot be a woman: a story with a woman as hero would then be a bad story, a woman with the heroic qualities would be a wrong person, standing against the values of the society, and thus more suitable as villain than hero. Heroism, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder: female heroes actually aren’t rare by count; they lack importance and sympathy. If, rather, we recognise the qualities which make the hero to be present in all genders—and reserve judgment—then we can recognise women and men as heroes.

But I consider the emphasis on conflict to be a fundamental problem with heroism in principle. Heroes glorify the conflict, the struggle between an ideal and the contrary situation. If heroes are considered models of virtue, for people to look up to and emulate, then heroes are also a source of implicit beliefs, in ideals and in struggle; and while the former belief, in ideals, is invaluably valuable—it cannot outweigh the latter. The nature of heroism requires the dismal condition as a given. To admire the hero is to assume the dismal and contrary, the unfortunate and unhappy, the unpleasant and horrific; the glory of the hero’s triumph illuminates the wrong as it shines on the righting.

In a better world, heroes would not be necessary; perhaps this unhappy, unfortunate world needs its heroes. But even so, the harm in heroism remains: heroes perpetuate complacency; so long as there are heroes, they bear the responsibility of changing the world for the better. So, to be sure, a world without heroes might fall into despair; but a world with heroes can never shed its despair, either.