You hear about classic, modern, and post-modern styles. What does that mean? I give a very simple breakdown.
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In the first edition of my new series StudioJake Lore Universe, I explore the differences between these three modes of creativity and how they impact fiction.
Let’s go beyond the pages.
CLASSICAL FICTION
Classical fiction, the cornerstone of Western literature, has captivated readers for centuries with its timeless tales.
Woven into the fabric of these stories is a fundamental human struggle: the battle between good and evil.
This essay will explore how classical fiction envelops this conflict, creating heroes who champion virtue, villains who embody vice, and a narrative landscape where doing good transcends personal gain.
Classical heroes are more than just warriors. They are paragons of virtue, embodying the ideals society strives for. They know that there is good and evil, with the divine or metaphysics dictating how we perceive good and evil.
In Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Van Helsing exemplifies courage and strength, relentlessly pursuing honor on the battlefield.
However, his emotions, a potential flaw, become a crucial element of the story. This complexity elevates him beyond a simple stereotype, making his journey one of self-discovery as he grapples with the costs of his actions.
Similarly, Odysseus in the Odyssey embodies perseverance and cunning.
Facing seemingly insurmountable odds, he navigates treacherous landscapes and outsmarts his foes.
His unwavering determination to reach home resonates with the human desire for stability and belonging.
Classical villains often serve as foils to the heroes, highlighting the virtues they champion.
Mordred from the Arthurian Cycle is a perfect example of this.
His scheming unravels the lives of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, showcasing the destructive power of unchecked negativity.
In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, the titular monster is a tragic figure, a product of scientific arrogance.
While his violent actions solidify his villainy, the story compels us to contemplate the ethical boundaries of unchecked ambition.
These villains are not simply one-dimensional forces of evil; they serve as cautionary tales, reminding us of the consequences of succumbing to vice.
The heroes of classical fiction are not motivated solely by external rewards. Their actions are driven by an internal moral compass.
In Robin Hood, the titular character defies the edict of the king, stealing the proceeds of unfair taxation and returning the money to the impoverished locals of Sherwood Forest.
His motivation stems from her unwavering belief in the sanctity of family and the importance of upholding divine laws.
Similarly, in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennet rejects Mr. Collins's marriage proposal despite his wealth and social standing.
Her decision prioritizes personal integrity and a genuine emotional connection over societal pressures.
These characters demonstrate that doing good carries its own reward – the satisfaction of upholding one's values.
The battle between good and evil in classical fiction unfolds across diverse settings, encompassing mythical battlefields, epic journeys, and intimate social dances.
These settings serve as microcosms of human experience, reflecting the internal struggles within each individual.
The fantastical elements often present in these stories provide an avenue to explore moral dilemmas in a heightened reality.
The monsters faced by The Lord Of The Rings or the supernatural forces encountered by Aragorn force them to confront difficult choices with significant consequences, mirroring the moral challenges faced by real people.
In conclusion, the battle between good and evil permeates classical fiction.
Heroes are not simply one-dimensional champions; they are flawed individuals who grapple with their inner demons while embodying ideals such as courage, perseverance, and integrity.
Villains stand in stark contrast, showcasing the destructive potential of vice.
More importantly, the heroes of classical fiction act not for material gain, but because doing good is the right thing to do.
They are heroes that we can aspire to emulate and the villains we can love to hate.
This enduring theme resonates across cultures and generations, reminding us of the constant struggle within ourselves and the importance of upholding moral principles even in the face of adversity.
By exploring this fundamental conflict, classical fiction provides a timeless commentary on the human condition, one that continues to inform our understanding of ourselves and the world around us.
MODERN:
Modern storytelling embraces complexity, and here's how it weaves objective good and evil with shades of gray. Another key difference is the source of how to perceive good and evil. To a modernist, metaphysics or the divine are secondary to human knowledge and wisdom, allowing for these shades of gray.
It also removes the metaphysical, or supernatural, element in decision-making, allowing the human conscience to determine right from wrong.
It does not account for human error, but offers way too much trust in humanity, and still acknowledges the battle between good and evil.
Let us take a look at some of the differences in the way a story is told from this lens.
First off, we have The Relatable Villain.
He is not Sauron, who wants to conquer all of Middle Earth.
She is not Bellatrix Lestrange torturing Muggles with magic spells.
We see villains with understandable motivations, such as an antagonist who thinks the ends justify the means and maybe even believes that they are righteous in their actions.
A good example of this is Mr. Freeze from Batman: The Animated Series. At first, he is motivated by wanting revenge for what he thinks is the death of his wife at the hands of his corrupt boss.
Later, he wants vengeance on the people who gave her the disease to begin with and seeks a cure for her condition.
The hero might have to fight them, but the audience can see the pain driving Freeze’s actions.
Next, we have the flawed hero, or what some might call the anti-hero.
Gone are the days of the hero in the white hat and the perfectly shined armor. Our protagonists might struggle with pain, vengeance, or a lack of morals.
They make mistakes, and their heroism comes from overcoming their flaws rather than being inherently virtuous or even good at the start of their journey.
Wolverine from Marvel Comics, for instance.
At first, he is simply a berserker who will cut anyone or anything down if they get in his way.
However, he becomes a member of the X-Men, trying to protect his friends from death by any means necessary.
Later in the comic books, he joins the Avengers and even sides with them against his former mutant comrades, but he retains his gray morals throughout his superhero career.
Next, we have stories where there is no clear good choice. Stories pose difficult choices.
The hero might have to sacrifice an innocent life to save the many.
These dilemmas highlight that good intentions can lead to tough decisions.
Consider the Kobayashi Maru conundrum in Star Trek.
During a test at Starfleet Academy, participants have to decide to abandon a fellowship or die beside them.
Captain Kirk famously cheated and reprogrammed it to win in the original series, while Tuvok used it to train members of the crew who had never had Starfleet training in Voyager.
Sometimes, the central conflict could be rooted in morally ambiguous situations. The hero has to navigate a situation where both sides have a point.
Of course, modern stories also explore the consequences of what could be considered “good deeds,” but later have ramifications that could endanger lives.
This explores how good intentions can have unforeseen ripple effects.
We also see this in how technology is used within the narrative and the plot.
Modern stories explore the ethics of new technology from a morally complex point of view. A question often asked in these sci-fi tales: Is advanced AI a tool for good or a potential destroyer?
These narratives force us to wrestle with the moral implications of scientific progress.
We see this in the Alien franchise. Humans can travel the galaxy and even have robotic companions to assist them.
However, the reliance on these mechanical instruments leads to allowing a monstrous alien to hunt the crew for experimentation purposes.
Of course, it would not be a modern story without showing how organizations that are perceived as good can be nefarious behind the scenes.
Corporations, governments, and even NGOs can be portrayed as having morally ambiguous agendas.
Another key example is that the hero might have to work with unsavory allies to achieve a greater good.
In The X-Files, Agent Scully and Agent Mulder are FBI agents who investigate unexplained phenomena, including alien encounters, cryptids, and even supernatural beings.
Sometimes, they have to work with nefarious characters like mobsters, black ops operators, cults, conspiracy theorists, and even CIA Agents to solve a mystery.
In conclusion, this approach to storytelling lets us explore the complexities of the real world, where good and evil often aren't black and white.
It allows us to connect with characters who grapple with difficult choices and leaves us pondering the nature of morality long after the story ends.
POST-MODERN
Last, but certainly not least, there is the post-modern approach. I will be upfront about this: this is my least favorite mode of storytelling.
Post-Modern storytelling represents a significant shift in crafting plots, moving away from the clear-cut heroes and villains of classic tales or even modern stories.
With post-modern works, narratives embrace complexity, presenting characters with flaws, motivations beyond simple good or evil, and a world where the lines between them are often blurred.
These stories explore the rise of the troubled hero, how power plays into the story, and the increasingly prominent gray areas that attempt to redefine our perception of morality in storytelling.
Unlike anti-heroes and even flawed heroes, the protagonist of a post-modern tale can often embody the identity of a Mary Sue or a Gary Stu.
He, but often she, is a character that might have less power than the antagonist and is forced to fight for that power.
Our protagonists are now part of a collective burdened by past mistakes, grappling with personal demons, and often driven by a mix of noble intentions and selfish desires.
Consider characters like Mae in Star Wars: The Acolyte, who descends into darkness during a struggle for vengeance. She is not condemned for wanting vengeance, but is uplifted.
Or She-Hulk in She-Hulk: Attorney At Law, a mediocre lawyer with a more interesting cousin, Bruce Banner, who seeks to prove herself by being arrogant and self-righteous.
After becoming a Hulk, she instantly becomes better at everything that her cousin is, trying to conflate people rude to her with Bruce witnessing his own father murder his mother. It is insincere and poorly contrived.
These protagonists condescend to audiences because they see themselves as morally superior to the audience, seeking to lecture them from a high horse.
The lines are totally blurred, where good versus evil takes a backseat and the fundamental conflict becomes about the character’s sense of superiority.
It's not the battle for justice on display, but a lecture on who can “do better.” The antagonist might not be a mustache-twirling villain, but a corrupt corporation, a system rigged against the marginalized, or even a character's own internal demons.
These stories avoid a perceived battle for good against a force for evil and instead blurs the lines of good and evil with struggles of identity or power structures.
Essentially, the defining feature of post-modern is that moral ambiguity is increasingly explored within the gray areas, forcing audiences to question the assumptions about right and wrong made in the subtext.
The motivations behind actions become crucial, forcing them to consider the cost of achieving "good" and the justifications characters make for their choices. These gray areas are not simply a way to subvert expectations.
They reflect the biases of the author, where actions can have unintended consequences, and decisions are rarely black and white.
Post-Modern stories beg us to confront “uncomfortable truths,” understand the perceived biases of human motivation, and lecture us on moral dilemmas.
To be blunt, post-modern storytelling thrives on the concept of the flawed hero and villain.
Good versus evil is no longer a driving force, but they make sure you know the lines are blurred.
Gray areas become battlegrounds for a smug sense of self-importance, forcing us to listen to the storyteller’s perceived moralizing of the hero.


