Solving the Fallen Hero-Redeemable Villain.
I don’t know if there is a proper name for the following riddle, so I called it the, "Fallen Hero–Redeemable Villain" problem. It goes like this. For whatever reason, society-at-large will absolve their admiration and love to someone who is seen as a hero. They are held in such esteem, they are seen as flawless and something that we, as commoners, should aspire to. But as soon as there is even a whiff of a peccadillo, people are readying the noose. And I can’t tell you the last time I saw a hero ever make a comeback.
But let’s move to the Redeemable Villain. These people can be the absolute scourge of the earth; awful, terrible, diabolical people. As long as they aren’t pathological serial killers, the villain seems to be welcomed home with open arms. The prodigal sons return!
This problem has perplexed me for a very long time. And for the longest time I held the opinion that it was they fell from their own standard—they were hypocrites and never truly as good as they seemed. And I think that is the general sentiment one will find.
But then, when we see that glimpse of goodness, that sliver of salvation inside the Villain! Hallelujah! There is such a thing as redemption! It is possible, after all, sweet Jesus, that those who are low can make a comeback.
Let us take that in for a second. The Villain can have a lifetime of wrongs, but does one thing, and we feel like life now has fully bloomed. All is right in the world. And yet, the hero or heroine (these days) makes one mistake, and it does not matter the size, well off with their head!
No wonder we don’t have heroes anymore. Who, in their right mind, would be one!
I was listening in on a conversation with some coworkers and was totally gobsmacked. The stories I heard were as obscene as they come; no details spared in a wash of bestial shamelessness. I pretended that it didn’t bother me, but it was enough that I had to sit back and think about the complete baseness of some of the people around me. And then it hit me.
Societal anger towards the hero or heroine is not about being let down, or condemning a hypocrite—it’s a celebration of the mirror being shattered. A broken mirror cannot give a proper reflection. It is the self-judgment of these animalistic people that fuels the hatred towards the hero and the love of the redeemable villain; it all has to do with the self-awareness of the crowd.
It was like the sun breaking through the clouds. I finally understood that these filthy people who indulge in their disgusting emotive acts understand what they do is repulsive. It now makes sense as to why they engage in these conversations. It’s not to impress but to blend in. They know what they are, and as long as they are in filthy company, no one can tell them apart.
I can’t fully explain why that is. Why do these people not try to cultivate themselves? To me it looks like a vicious circle—they cannot become that which they have condemned. They hung the hero on the cross, but they don’t want to be hanged too. So here we are. The hero really is the archetype, the savior that we need but we can’t have. Why? Because those who roll in dirt know that it’s disgusting, and as long as they don’t have to look in a mirror, they never have to account for themselves to themselves.
