Forum:WT:Allegory

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This time around, I thought I'd address a concept known in literature as allegory, or an element of a story that may have a real-life political or moral meaning. An obvious example of allegory is in C.S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia, where nearly every event is a re-telling of a Bible story, and every line Aslan utters hints at his connection with the Christian God. Allegory is, put as simply as I can, when an author uses his story to parallel or allude to a situation in real life, usually in a way to make a point. In C.S. Lewis' case, the meaning behind the Narnia books is a parallel various Christian topics.

Introduction and background
For what it's worth, I think allegory should be well-regulated in fiction, especially in the Star Wars universe. When a universe as diverse as Star Wars is written by so many authors, an author must be careful to not let his own political views dictate the way everyone else works.

However, Star Wars is full of allegory, right up to G-canon. The guerilla tactics used by the Ewoks during the Battle of Endor is said to be a reference to the Vietnam War. George Lucas has jokingly said that Dick Cheney is the Emperor and George Bush is Darth Vader (after some fans speculated that Cheney was Darth Vader). The Clone Wars could be interpreted to be a parallel to the United States Civil War (the similarities are so plentiful it would be too painstaking, not to mention distracting, to list on this page), and the Galactic Civil War shows various parallels to the American Revolutionary War and other revolutions that took place in the centuries since. The outcome of these in-universe events, however, may leave you scratching your head about the meaning. If the Clone Wars equal the Civil War, does that mean that if Lincoln weren't assassinated, the US would have become the Empire?

Historically speaking, the United States probably would not have become the Empire, and I don't think this is exactly the point anyone behind the Prequel Trilogy was trying to make. Rather, the events surrounding the first (in-universe) episodes drew on many real-life events for inspiration, and the allegory was not about a single event or a specific situation, but a broad statement about democracies and empires. My personal interpretation of the fall of the Republic is that when the governed give their consent to a tyrant in the name of security, democracy will quickly fall and tragedy inevitably ensues. Or, to put it more bluntly, "power corrupts." Whether or not this is what you get out of it is your business, but the point I'm trying to make is that instead of drawing specifically on one event or issue from real life and recreating it in a different context in your universe, it is better to borrow from a series of issues and combine them in an original way. After all, that's what invention really is. We, as the human race, don't ever create anything, strictly speaking. We simply combine and apply multiple things in ways that were never seen before.

This is why I generally have mixed feelings when someone tries to recreate the Soviet Union on Star Wars Fanon. It's not very original, for one thing, to take every element of something in real life and stick it in a fictional universe. For another thing, while I do not discourage authors from exploring moral issues in their work, making your point so bluntly doesn't change anyone. You will make you point more effectively if you don't drive it with a hammer. If you really want to put a message in your story, you want to address the core issue.

Likewise, if the Battle of Endor is an allegory for the Vietnam War (which by and large isn't), this does not mean the message is about Vietnam in particular, but about every war in resembling the Battle of Endor (in this case, it may also parallel the insurgency in Iraq and the guerilla warfare that took place, and in some places still takes place, in Africa). At the core, the Battle of Endor is about Palpatine's hubris: he was too confident in the power of the Imperial Navy, the Death Star, and the dark side of the Force to consider something as innocuous as the Ewoks to be any threat. This can be considered allegory for the Vietnam War not because some American idiot pretended that a superweapon was still under construction to lure a rebel fleet into a trap and then have the whole plan backfire just because he didn't think of the inhabitants of the village, but simply because of America's hubris.

Therefore, if you intend to recreate Soviet Russia or something, do it creatively. Instead of making everything the same (as in Animal Farm), try mixing in elements of the Roman Empire or Nazi Germany or the United States or thirteenth-century Spain (now I'm just getting carried away). Do not focus the message explicitly on a specific regime, but rather

Having said all this, allegory is not just alluding to real life. It's mostly about the message, which, in context, pertains to some real life event. Some of the heaviest allegory in the Star Wars universe can be found in the Young Jedi Knights books, which examine drug addiction, reverse discrimination, and poverty in a not-so-subtle way. Then there's The Clone Wars. Don't get me started on that.

The Clone Wars
Too late. I can't resist. After seeing the Clone Wars movie, I had mixed expectations for the TV show. I watched the episodes on Starwars.com anyway, and found that they do get progressively better (with the exception of the Downfall of a Droid arc, which sucked in nearly every way). For the sake of convenience, I will divide the first season of The Clone Wars into two parts, pre-Bombad Jedi and post-Bombad Jedi, as I see Bombad Jedi to be the dividing line between the mediocre/bad and the decent/good. Yes, I find there are some decent episodes before Bombad Jedi and some mediocre episodes after Bombad Jedi, but this is just for convenience's sake.

One of the things that salvaged the series from the "children's Saturday-morning cartoon" pool was its addition of what Dave Filloni calls "darker themes." What these darker themes really are is the courage to tell a story with moral significance.

This becomes apparent right away starting with the Cloak of Darkness episode, which directly addresses interrogation techniques (depending on whether or not you side with the Bush Administration on Gitmo, Ahsoka may or may not have been "torturing" Nute Gunray) and the moral obligations of someone to defy orders in order to "do what's right." Interestingly, we see the characters' use of the defying orders to do what's right argument in two different lights. When Ahsoka decides to defy Luminara to save her from Ventress (a parallel to Anakin's similar decision in Revenge of the Sith), she arguably does save the Jedi Master's life. Yet when the same argument is used by the Senate Commando who betrays the Republic, it is seen as a vile excuse that does not justify him. Perhaps I am overestimating the thoughtfulness of the writers of the show, but I do believe there is a message in that; the best kind, one which you can take or leave, but still like the show if you decide to leave. The theme of this episode is in the value of loyalty. Ahsoka, if I may remind you, did establish that she had a hint of darkness in her when she interrogated Nute Gunray; when she goes off to save Luminara against orders, it could be another hint at her internal struggle with evil. But it was out of loyalty that she defied orders; not loyalty to Luminara's authority, but to her life. When the Senate Commando takes the same step, it is out of blatant disloyalty to both authority and life. Therefore, I see the episode Cloak of Darkness to be an effective allegory to any situation or issue in which loyalty to authority versus life matters.

The allegory continues in the episodes immediately after, from The Lair of General Grievous to The Gungan General (with the latter and the episode right before it, Dooku Captured, being very obvious parallels to both modern and historical piracy), but really kicks into full gear in the Jedi Crash story arc, which features the peace-loving Lurmen and the deep philosophical issues their point of view brings. To tell the truth, I think the Jedi Crash and Defenders of Peace episodes may be my favorite in the first season, because they do create a fair moral tale in which can have multiple interpretations and presents an intriguing issue to the Star Wars context. For those who haven't seen the episodes, prepare to have it spoiled. The Lurmen, a remote race of sentient primates living a simple tribal lifestyle on some remote planet (I can't remember what the planet was; I'm not even sure if it's named), are distinctly nonviolent, to the point that they frustrate Anakin and Ahsoka when they try to rally them against the Confederacy. Much of the episodes are devoted to the argument of whether it is right to use violence to protect what is good, as violence, in the eyes of the Lurmen, most especially Tee Wat Kaa, is inherently evil. The village elder exemplifies a peaceful compliance strategy to getting rid of his enemies; when the Confederacy shows up for an "inspection," Tee Wat Kaa lets the greedy, proud general to have his way. The Battle Droids march through the village and leave (apparently around two shots are fired, but nobody is killed). I find the Lurmen leader very admirable in his distinct form or courage: he not only stands by his principles, but he has the self-control to not be visibly outraged when the Battle Droids get carried away. With that strategy, Tee Wat Kaa probably would have been able to triumph over most enemies, in the way Gandhi liberated India and Martin Luther King fought for civil rights without landing a punch. But this particular CIS commander disregarded the lives of the primitive Lurmen so outrageously that he uses their village to "test" a new radiation bomb that kills all life forms in a designated radius, but leaves machines such as Separatist Battle Droids intact. The Lurmen simply cannot evade an enemy with that kind of resolve, and so the liberal-minded son of the village elder decides on the necessity of fighting for their lives.

Though there are some really stupid plot devices in the Defenders of Peace episode (Let's use those shield generators that are just randomly lying around! I'm a Battle Droid, therefore I must shoot something - and miss - even when I'm just doing a routine inspection! Now let's test the superweapon on the innocuous aliens, even though we already know it works!), the moral exploration of the Jedi and the Lurmen is more than redemptive. The peaceful compliance was probably the best course to take when the Separatists first showed up, but when it was clear that the Lurmen could not survive using that same tactic, Tee Wat Kaa then proposed that it would be better to die than to become part of the terrible war afflicting the galaxy. In a way, this is actually very heroic, but where he is wrong is in his presumptuous attitude that everyone in the village agrees with him. Tee Wat Kaa is more than welcome to make an honorable sacrifice to prove the atrocities of war, but it can only be by voluntary consent that he has the power to drag everyone else into it. Additionally, the tension between Tee Wat Kaa and his son can represent the dichotomy of tradition versus progression. The traditional practice of avoiding violent conflict obviously runs deep, and these principles are more important to the elder than his own life. The change the tribe must make to ensure their survival is in direct conflict with these traditional values. Even Tee Wat Kaa admits that perhaps he does owe the Jedi thanks when they saved the village from destruction. So the moral of the story may be that when a group's very existence is threatened by a malicious enemy that cannot be negotiated with, it is necessary, and even honorable, to fight back violently. Except it goes deeper than that. Tee Wat Kaa's stubbornness could easily be allegory for one whose adherence to traditional values supersedes his desire for change. In other words, a conservative, in the most non-political sense you can think of. Perhaps the episode draws allegory on the debates in the scientific community concerning the role morality should play in science (read: stem-cell research, cloning, genetic enhancement). And yet this episode does not necessarily say any one on the debate is wrong. The episode closes, in fact, with a foreshadowing of what is to come: the Galactic Empire, whose violent approach to solving problems, exemplified most glaringly in the destruction of Alderaan, would prove the Lurmen right about what the war was heading for.

The most obvious allegory in the whole series, however, is in the episode immediately after, in Tresspass. Anakin and Obi-Wan go to an ice world (Ahsoka stayed behind because she wouldn't put on clothes, much less a coat, to save her life) under the jurisdiction of a planet called Pantora. It turns out that the Pantoran colony is already inhabited by a primitive race called the Talz. In what can be considered a parallel to both the English colonization of South Africa and the American conflict with the Native Americans, the Talz revolt against the Republic troops that they perceive to be taking their land, and the Pantoran governor declares war on the Talz out of blatant racism and imperialism. The Jedi, of course, seek a peaceful negotiation with the Talz to resolve the conflict, but the Pantoran governor, intent on regaining his control of the planet, wishes to see the Talz subdued by the Cone Troopers assigned to protect them. Out of a misunderstanding, the Talz attack and the Clones are forced to fight back. It looks like a bitter war is inevitable, but the death of the governor allows for the Senator to vouch for Talz independence and mutual peace. Real life probably wouldn't work this way; the Governor was probably not the only Pantoran to think of the Talz as animals and the planet as the property of their own world. If the populace heard of the death of the Governor at the hands of the Talz, they would scream bloody murder. Nevertheless, as a standalone episode, it does communicate the issues of colonialism. The Talz were fighting for the right to continue life as they've always known, and the Pantoran governor was fighting for the protection of his power over the planet. You decide who the bad guy is. Actually, had the Talz been as peaceful as the Lurmen, the story may have been much happier (and much more boring). If they refused to go to war, the Pantoran governor would look extremely stupid. Another theme in this episode is the value of sacrifice, which both good guys and that one bad guy use to justify themselves.

Throughout the rest of the season, there are allusions to modern and historical issues with varying degrees of subtlety. The Blue Shadow Virus episode features a villain who sees the virus's eradication as genocide, and seeks revenge on the sentient beings of the galaxy by destroying them completely. This particular mad scientist is so mad that he doesn't seem to care when he is about to die, just as long as the virus is released. One can draw connection to issues such as animal rights and genetic engineering. In the next episode, the CIS apparently quarantined the Iego system with some sort of shield, which the colonists interpret to be the curse of some supernatural being. The Jedi have to convince the leaders of Iego (by the way, this is the same Iego that has the angels, even though we only see one angel in the whole episode, and only for about five seconds) that the "curse" is not a supernatural spell, but something designed by regular mortals. The purpose of this allegory? To portray those who are quick to see the universe, or God, or fate conspiring against them as ignoramuses who don't look hard enough at the situation. Furthermore, the later two installments in the Ryloth trilogy deal with war children/living shields/consequences of war on civilians and the French resistance/conflict between those who literally lead their people and those who remain safely distant from the battles, respectively.

Avian Hunt
To show how I've done some light allegory in my own fanon, I invite you to read the script and storyline of Avian Hunt, which is heavily laden with moral issues and philosophical dilemmas. Note that each character has his/her own worldview, even minor characters such as the Ovation captain, and that the story does not endorse a particular point of view, but rather allows the reader/player to determine who is really the good guy. Some examples of parallels between Avian Hunt and the real world include:


 * 1) The distrust of the Jedi, exemplified primarily by Kaffman. This is meant to be an example of an ordinary citizen, believing in the separation of church and state, finding suspicious actions when they are intertwined as the Jedi and the Senate are. Note that Kaffman is a firm believer in the power of the light side of the Force, and is distrustful of the Jedi only because of their power and treatment in the Senate and in the Republic Army.
 * 2) The necessarian philosophies reflected in Kaffman and Ilmar Grmek. Both characters believe in some hierarchy of ideals, and when a higher ideal is in danger of violation, it may be necessary to forsake a lower ideal for the sake of the higher one. In one case, the highest ideal is the non-existence of the Sith, whom Kaffman sees as an inevitable catalyst for suffering and war.
 * 3) Ilmar Grmek's dislike of the idea of a Clone Army. Not only does she find her preferred career stolen from her by an unknown army that was illegally ordered, but she finds the utilitarian treatment of the Clones as a violation of rights. She hates the idea of growing and raising engineered beings to become soldiers defending a Republic they never lived in. This is a direct reference to the qualms modern society has with cloning, genetic engineering, and slavery. Apparently, the rights of the Clones supersede the necessity of fighting the Confederacy to Grmek, who is herself a necessarian, and therefore believes that one must do what is necessary.
 * 4) The concept of 1337. Yes, it seems like a joke to put 1337 in Star Wars. Actually, it wasn't my idea. But aside the comic relief such a language inevitably brings, 1337 is actually a representation of the cultural differences between the Core Worlds and the Outer Rim, or, in general, urban and rural communities. The character of Jett Worrap, who claims to have invented 1337, is a seemingly thuggish hacker who gradually reveals himself to be quite clever and insightful, contrary to the preconceptions of the original members of the 1337 N00B5.
 * 5) Though I have not put this in the script yet, the treatment of the Jedi members of the 1337 N00B5 (which will include Thracia Cho-Leem and Sa'Madhi Tatthya) and the refusal to give them special treatment because of their Force powers can connect to the concept of equal opportunity in real-life Western culture, but hints at a Harrison Bergeron-like suppression of talents until a 1337 N00B5 Jedi system is informally established.

In conclusion, allegory is everywhere in Star Wars; you just need to know how to look for it. It is not wrong to try to connect your own fanon to contemporary or historical issues, but do it right. If you learn anything from this writing tip, let it be 1) That allegory should not be element for element, but rather an original combination, and 2) That the reader should be able to take the message or leave it, but appreciate the story no matter which option he chooses. Also, try to keep the allegory subtle; most definitions you will find of the word "allegory" include the phrase "hidden meaning."

--C3PO the Dragon Slayer 6,000,000 forms of communication 22:21, 20 May 2009 (UTC) signing out.

Discussion
I invite you, the Star Wars Fanon community, to also discuss ways that you have connected real-life issues to your fanon work. Nobody's creative enough to not draw inspiration on anything in real life and still create a legitimate story. Please share ways that you have approached allegory here. --C3PO the Dragon Slayer 6,000,000 forms of communication 22:21, 20 May 2009 (UTC)