reenka

What do Wendy Darling & Buffy Summers & Harry Potter have in common?

Well, they're the main pov characters in their stories; they're supposedly 'good', all in different senses of the word, but all in a way that a lot of forward-thinking people of my generation find offensive or wrong or stifling, or perhaps just boring. Peter is more exciting and different and interesting than Wendy, isn't he? He's unapologetic where Wendy is constantly thinking of what the 'proper' & 'right' thing is. He's heartless where Wendy is a soft-hearted silly girl. He has adventures where Wendy just wants to come back home in the end, much as she's fascinated with the idea of having them herself. Wendy is a let-down, isn't she? And besides, in canon, Peter didn't really love Wendy, did he. No, I guess not.

So what it comes down to is that I think he could have. Or maybe should have. Or maybe I just I want him to, because that's my fairy-tale, dammit, even if it's doomed to an unhappy end.

Buffy is a stick-in-the-mud also, isn't she. Self-righteous and overly concerned with herself but not in an attractively arrogant way, just a lame way, and most of all concerned with normalcy. That's what these three characters have in common-- they want to be normal, and in the search for this mythical settled life they want to have (and don't), they do some insensitive and misguided things, maybe. And it's not like most people dislike them actively, but that's just too common to be very interesting, isn't it? So many people limit themselves and are messed up in ways that make them end up just like their parents.

They grow up to become who you always knew they were going to become. That's their story. They may have their slew of adventures while they're young and stupid, but then they Learn Their Lesson and settle down and are heroic and exciting no longer. They're the ones that make the deal with fate just to live, they're the ones that compromise their principles, they're the ones that pay in ways too subtle and long-term to be anything but depressing in a slow, undramatic sort of way. Because of course the hero always gets to be normal in the end, but the normalcy is always tinged with regret, with a constant sense of lingering loss.

Perhaps I always love the hero more because I empathize with this sense of regret coupled with the vicarious experience of their actual adventure, I think. lt speaks to me of all the adventures I've always wanted to have myself, and the constant disappointment and regret that life is so... frustrating and demanding and lonely and likely to just give you a hint of what you desire and leave you incomplete and craving something you can never have again.

As much as I always loved Peter Pan (he was my very first crush, after all), I can't really imagine loving him without Wendy, somehow. I suppose in a way I loved Peter -because- I felt so close to Wendy-- and it's odd to me that so many people, girls like me, love the bad boys without really empathizing with the lame, dreamy, hopeful little girl (or boy) who can never quite get away with having what they really want.

The thing about the counterparts to the heroes/main characters-- Peter Pan, Spike, Draco-- is that their relationship with their heart's desire seems to be so different. They go after it rather boldly and directly, no matter whether they win or lose-- they think they know what they want, no matter if they really do. The main character (or the hero, what have you) is often unsure, it seems like; either that or they're always unable to go after it without guilt or hesitation because of some strong vision of right/wrong, or perhaps some misgiving because they think this is not who they are. Buffy isn't someone who loves vampires (oh, evil dead things); Buffy kills vampires. Wendy isn't this carefree flying girl-- she's always wanted to be, oh, quite desperately, but she can't be, because she's a proper English lady.

It's the inherent tragedy of that that draws me in, that makes me understand these characters so deeply. It's not that I admire them or need to-- or want to. Harry may certainly appreciate admiration, but he doesn't understand it, I don't think; it doesn't feel natural, and so I believe he mistrusts it and deals with it incompetently in others. Harry's focus on the things he doesn't have (a family, a normal life, a sense of freedom), I think, is rivalled only by his perceived hopelessness in ever attaining them.

One of my most definitive visions of him, I think, is how he sits in front of the Mirror of Erised, not sad so much as mesmerized. He can't have that-- he knows it's only a picture-- but he can't look away until someone makes him stop. And I seem to recall Wendy still looking at Peter as he flew away for the last time-- looking and looking and wanting and being trapped by herself and her idea of her future and her feeling of responsibility. But for the rest of her life, she always thinks about him-- and wants him-- and tells stories about him; she can't forget him like he could forget her, and in a way, I think contrary to all appearances, Harry couldn't really forget Draco though he could leave him alone quite easily.

Perhaps that's why I need to have this fantasy of Peter Pan, the boy who forgets anything he doesn't currently have, in some alternate universe, remembering. The Shadow remembers-- the Shadow returns, not just to Peter, but to Wendy as well. And while Peter was child enough to just go after his, Wendy needs to have hers remind her of his existence every now and then. Because they may survive well enough apart, true, but they need each other; they do. They do. The Hero's foolishness in clinging to what they know (rather than what they truly feel) shouldn't mean they're somehow always alone; always missing some vital part of themselves. Oh, this is what I want to imagine.

And I love Draco, I do; and Peter, and Spike, and everyone who goes after what they want with their full hearts, who throw themselves into things with a naive, childlike fervor. I think that's one of the most beautiful things about human beings... and I think that's why they're the Hero's Shadow-- because the Shadow does what the Hero can't, or won't, or doesn't. The Shadow reminds them that they aren't truly living until they're dancing.

The Shadow has to rescue the Hero from their life of truncated joy and bring the childish laughter back, and the Hero has rescue the Shadow from their life of careless cruelty and empty satisfactions and desires that don't carry the weight of adulthood regret upon them, which is what makes desire real.