One of the values of reading older works of literature is that it forces us to question certain assumptions we hold as “modern” Westerners—not just assumptions about “democracy” or whatever else we learned in AP Politics, but assumptions about the very nature of our humanity.
Modern-day heroes
For me, a classic example of this is the John Carter of Mars series by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Reading these books is like pouring cold water on a cultural desert. In these books, you meet characters who are different from the current male protagonists.
What the anti-establishment right desperately needs is to cultivate within itself a spirit of joy and a zest for life. It is this energy, not the sulkiness and whining that is so common in X, that can bring about real change.
It is worth noting that John Carter is portrayed as a very favorable Confederate soldier, but this character is not only politically incorrect. He also exudes a unique masculinity that is largely forgotten in today’s discourse. To illustrate my point, I will leave you with a few quotes from the 1912 novel A Princess of Mars:
Fear is a relative term, and my feelings at the time can only be measured by previous and subsequent dangerous experiences, but if fear was what I endured in the minutes that followed, I can confidently say that God help the coward, for cowardice always meets its punishment.
I have always had a penchant for adventure, for exploring and experimenting where a sensible person would have done without doing anything.
I don’t think I have the makings of a hero, because in the hundreds of times I’ve acted spontaneously and faced death, I can’t remember a single time when any other option came to mind hours later than what I did.
Forgotten Archetypes
John Carter is the chivalrous ideal, a man who embodies, or at least comes close to, all the masculine virtues in a perfect Aristotelian golden mean: duty-driven but not weak, strong but not cruel, adventurous but not reckless.
He is a man who knows what he wants and goes after it with all his heart and soul. He doesn’t run from a fight; in fact, he welcomes it. Fighting is in his blood, he is called to fight. He is a leader of his people, always with honor and fairness, pursuing victory with ingenuity and tenacity. You would rather have no one on your side than someone against you. He is a hero, a true king, an archetype lost in today’s culture.
When was the last time you saw a man portrayed so favorably on television or in a movie? When was the last time you saw a man like John Carter?
Avoid “flawed” protagonists
I can say with certainty that this was not the case in 2012. John Carter (movie) (Despite the title, it’s actually an adaptation of “Princess of Mars.”)
Now, I don’t want to criticize the movie too harshly, because at least it succeeds in portraying Carter as a hero, but the movie, as has been typical of pop culture for the past few decades, obstinately portrays Carter as a “flawed” character. We’ve swung from the strong guy becoming the strong guy, to the weak guy becoming the strong guy, and finally to the weak guy becoming the weak guy.
This trend is everywhere, even in Peter Jackson’s acclaimed film The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien’s Aragorn is far from a reluctant hero in the book; he never doubts himself. But somehow, Hollywood screenwriters in 2001 just couldn’t envision such confidence. And it’s only gotten worse since then.
It’s easy to trace how masculinity has come to be portrayed as, in some sense, tragic. Men, if not outright evil, are degraded as the fundamentally inferior of the two sexes. It is always the man who lacks the ability, awareness, and ability to actualize. Loving men must be clumsy and weak; ambitious men must be cruel and tyrannical; and truly good men must be tragically eliminated and replaced by superior female clones.
Gone are the days when fathers raised their sons, now fathers have to raise their daughters as sons, resulting in everyone being unhappy.
Choose Vitality
Why is it so bleak? As if a constant stream of bad news wasn’t enough, our storytellers continually amplify our worst sides by providing us with the most cynical, hopeless and demoralizing media the human imagination can fathom.
We’re so drowning in failure and heartbreak that we forget we have the power to reject it. We don’t need male protagonists who bite their nails until they embark on an adventure. We don’t need incompetent fathers who drink themselves into an early grave. And we certainly don’t need eunuchs for sons who lie on their bellies waiting for the girlboss to come.
Dissident literature, if it is to compete with left-wing art, must be uplifting, especially to the masculine spirit. It must reawaken the heroic spirit of men. This does not mean that all men are called to be warriors, but all men must be teeth We are called to be as noble as John Carter and to live with the same vigor, whatever our calling.
There are a few small gripes, Last Things 4 Basically correct His claim What the anti-establishment right needs is not an 800-page manuscript of Dostoyevsky-style gloom and nihilism. If that’s what you want, read Dostoyevsky.
Something Worth Fighting For
What the anti-establishment right desperately needs is to cultivate within itself a spirit of joy and a zest for life. It is this energy, not the sulkiness and whining that is so common in X, that can bring about real change.
Only when we celebrate the good, no matter how small, will we find men willing to fight. Only when we cultivate a spirit of hope will we find young people willing to stand up for that hope, not fight for nihilistic causes with varying degrees of defeat.
In the Old Testament, the Ark of the Covenant was stolen by the Philistines, who, during their victory over Israel, placed it before their pagan gods and mocked it. All seemed lost, and then, at the last moment, God struck down the pagan idols and the Ark returned safely to Jerusalem. When the Ark arrived, King David was so filled with joy that he began leaping and dancing in the procession, humiliating himself with his outburst of anger.
Man, if he wishes to live, must begin to live again with the same overflowing joy.
A version of this essay previously appeared on Substack by Isaac Young. Tranter Publishing.
