Heroes

Ok, so I have already spoken about my love for anti-heroes (in excruciatingly painful details) in this post.

So this post is about heroes I hate: I mean I know they are role models when we were growing up or we would be made to read about them or watch them over and over again on TV, that they are perfect and larger-than-life, but the very fact that they are larger-than-life, makes them somewhat unreal, somewhat vague and not quite identifiable…

And I am not even talking about super-heroes, i.e. the supermans, spidermans, batmans or catwomans.

But for instance, take Hercule Poirot, the little Belgian detective, created by Agatha Christie, who is always using his “little grey cells”. Of course, I have read ALL his books, trying my best to find him likeable or at best, tolerable. But each time I read about him, I only found myself more alienated from the character. His arrogance, his condescending attitude towards his friend and partner-in-crime, Hastings (who is infinitely more lovable) and his fastidiousness (really, who keeps a consistent bank balance of 444 pounds, 4 shillings, and 4 pence?) often annoyed the hell out of me. I couldn’t agree more with Ms. Christie when she said she found Poirot “insufferable” and a "detestable, bombastic, tiresome, ego-centric little creep". However, the public loved him and he continued to survive for as long as he did…

Or let’s look at James Bond. According to the creator, Ian Fleming, he named the character James Bond, because he wanted the simplest, dullest, plainest-sounding name he could find and it’s a pity his character didn’t stay that way. If you ask me, for a grown man, his penchant for sophisticated clothes, gadgets, pretty women and fast cars is almost juvenile, smacking of insecurity. There is something cold, ruthless and cruel about him and he lacks the vulnerable charm of Rocky or The Terminator. He seems more like a comic caricature to me than anything else…

Now as much as I love Fountainhead or completely subscribe to Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism, Howard Roark’s character makes me squirm. Not because he is anti-establishment or independent or individualistic or because he ‘draws outside of the lines’ (these are qualities which make him stand out), but because he is so, well, inhuman, selfish and puerile. Blowing up a building? Not cool. Walking around like the whole world is a fool? Not cool. Forcing himself on a woman? Definitely not cool. And dude, stop taking yourself so seriously. Get a sense of humour…

No, I am not a misandrist. I hate women heroes (or heroines?) as well. Jane Austen’s Anne Elliot from the novel Persuasion fails to stir any sort of empathy for her. Give me a break from the Cinderella Story: overshadowed middle daughter overlooked by her father and manipulated by her sisters, heartbroken after her failed relationship with the unsuitable Prince Charming and resigned to a life of loneliness and emptiness, she is the quintessential patient, strong, wise and gentle ‘lady” who makes me want to throw up or die of boredom. Give me a scatterbrained, foot-in-the-mouth Emma any day.

And last, but not the least, closer to our generation, there is Harry Potter. This one is self-explanatory. Case closed.

But the hero that I DO like: Aticus Finch from ‘To Kill a Mocking Bird’ (yea yea, call it the “my daddy best” syndrome)...