There doesn't appear to be what one would label as classic "heroism" in The Artist. No flashing swords. No dangerous fights for honor. No dragons. Yet, despite the fact that a) this was not my favorite book (not my least favorite, but not my favorite), and b) Stephen is in many ways similar to Shawn who I tore apart in my last post on Playboy of the Western World, Stephen does manage to pull of a spout of heroism.
No, Stephen does not appear to search for his identity and role in being part of a warrior society. But he does fulfill other parts of the heroic code. It is indisputable that he follows what he does best--his writing. Through his writing Stephen fulfills other parts of the heroic code: the desire to be recognized and persuing excellence.
Actually, come to think of it, he does search for his identity and role in being part of a warrior society. That is the entire focus point of the book, Stephen searching for who he is and where he belongs in his society of competition, fear, and others and thier perceptions of the world. Throughout the story he hids behind masks: reckless and completely the church, devoted beyond belief, nonchalant, and finally he appears to come into his own. He eventually becomes comfortable with who he is, and no longer needs to prove himself to anyone. Not the deans at school. Not his friends. Not his father. He develops his own sense of the world, and expressing how he sees it.
Wild spring. Scudding clouds. O life! Dark stream of swirling bogwater on which apple trees have cast down their delicate flowers.
