Anyway, who am I to spoil their fun, by yattering on about deeper meaning and symbolism?
But that's the point. I have no intention of spoiling their fun at all.
Yours, on the other hand ... well, you have already paid for this book. So don't pretend that you're not interested.
After all, there are many levels other than the superficial, and George Lucas would be the first to say so. Keeping faith with the teachings of famed mythology maven Joseph Campbell, Lucas claims that storytelling is a central ritual that both describes and helps to shape the way that people picture themselves in relation to society. So, shouldn't we take him at his word?
Moreover, many of the trends that we see in the Star Wars universe have also manifested elsewhere in a society that's undergoing change. For example, take the rise of feudal and magical fantasy, once considered an offshoot of science fiction, but now pushing its hightech cousin off the bookstore shelves. Even within sci-fi, stories seem increasingly to feature "chosen ones" or demigod-like heroes, often set in structured, aristocratic cultures.
How often, anymore, do you see tales that portray society itself functioning, perhaps helping the protagonist, or suggesting solutions that arise from collaborative effort? Maybe even offering hope that hard work and goodwill might bring better days? Do cops ever come when called? Do institutions ever deliver or perform, even partially, in ways that help a little? Are the hero's neighbors ever anything other than hapless sheep? Does scientific advancement ever-ever-come to the rescue, anymore, instead of simply causing more problems and provoking lectures about how "mankind shouldn't meddle" in things we do not understand? Do big projects, or ambitious undertakings, or team efforts ever hold a candle to the boldness of the single, archetype hero, sticking it to every authority figure in sight?
Are we being taught, gradually but inexorably, to turn away from the whole modernist agenda? The concept that science, society, citizenship and faith are things that go well together, contributing to the good of everybody? Or that there was once a good idea-to replace arbitrary leader-worship with democratic institutions that we can all hope to share? What about the notion that any of us regular people-not just mutant chosen ones-can be the hero, if we're ever called upon?
Hey, stories like that can be told. Take the films of director Steven Spielberg. From Saving Private Ryan to Schindler's List to Close Encounters, these are often stirring stories about people who are only a bit above average, but who achieve great things nonetheless. Sometimes these characters are deeply flawed. They slip up, or get angry, or even do bad things. Only then, they do the unexpected. They stand up.
Taking responsibility for their mistakes, they set things right. And, sometimes, civilization even helps them a bit. All told, Spielberg's central ongoing theme seems to be unswerving gratitude toward a society that-in all honesty-has been pretty good to him.
Oh, sure, not every filmmaker has to follow Steven Spielberg's chosen storytelling mode. Anyway, it's hard to live up to that kind of role model. But must nearly all of the others who are making movies today relentlessly preach exactly the opposite message? Especially, is there some underlying reason why the opposite message wound up pervading the biggest, most lavish, most expensive and most watched series of modern times-the Star Wars epic?
Some of the writers in this volume will talk about matters like these-plumbing deeper meanings and messages that are conveyed by Star Wars and its ilk. Others will poke in different directionsat ways that plot, story and character consistency gradually fell apart (alas) as the Star Wars series declined into grumpy middle age ... and then entered what might be called crotchety senescence.
Then, attorneys for the Defense will have their say! For there are many sides to this