Topic > A Statue Loses Its Stand: A Look at Stephen Crane's Concept of Heroism

The world of Stephen Crane's fiction is a cruel and lonely place. Man's environment shows no sympathy or interest in man; in the midst of a battle in The Red Badge of Courage "Nature had calmly continued its golden process in the midst of so much devilry" (89). Crane often anthropomorphizes the natural world and transforms it into an agent that actively works against human survival. From the beginning of "The Open Boat" the waves are seen as "erroneously and barbarously abrupt and high" (225) as if the waves themselves have murderous intent. During the battle in The Red Badge of Courage the trees of the forest spread before Henry and "forbade him to pass. After his previous hostility, this new resistance of the forest filled him with a beautiful bitterness" (104). More omnipresent than the mortal sense of opposition to nature, however, is the mortal sense of opposition to other men. Crane describes the Darwinian struggle of men as forcing one man against another, not only to preserve their own lives, but also to preserve their own sense of self-worth. Henry finds hope for escaping this condition in the traditional notion that “man becomes another thing in a battle,” more selfless and connected to his comrades (73). But the few moments in Crane's stories in which individuals overcome self-preservation are not typically heroic moments of battle. Crane revises the meaning of heroism by allowing selfishness to persist during battle. Only when his characters are faced with the utter helplessness of another human being are they able to overcome themselves. In these dark situations, characters are reminded of their most fundamental opposition to nature. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay Even before Henry joins the military, his relationships with other humans are defined by antagonism. His mother asks him not to join the army and as a result he goes out and joins. He announces his enlistment to his mother "distrustfully" (47), suggesting a conscious desire to hurt her feelings by exaggerating the ease of his decision. The moments before departure are not marked by any tender communion, but rather by estranged irritation. The quiet antagonism intensifies when Henry reaches his camp. The relationship between veterans and new recruits is not explained in pedagogical language, instead as in many naturalistic relationships, the veterans are predators and Henry is the "prey" (51). As the men go into battle, the reader expects this antagonism will subside, expects with Henry, that "man [will] become another thing in battle." At first the young man's fantasies seem to come true as he feels himself begin to coalesce "into a common personality dominated by a single desire" (84). But in the first moment the troops faced a vital enemy, Henry “lost his way to safety” (93). The threat to his self-preservation drives him to flee the battle, and when his worst fear is confirmed, his sense of antagonism returns with gusto. As he runs he calls his companions "Methodical idiots! Mechanical fools" (95). It is evident that the understanding of his own weakness pushes him to denigrate everyone around him, for psychological self-preservation. This particular sense of self-preservation creates an antagonism that runs through the rest of the battles; “he felt great anger against his peers” (99) because he felt they were always trying to crush his sense of self-worth. The shared nature of this antagonism is evident fromnear-constant fighting in Union camps, even after successful campaigns. On the battlefield, when the enemies should be the men in grey, the anger is instead directed "against his officer" (179), or in another situation, "involved against that man, who, not knowing him, had called for a muleteer" (183); the officers, instead of shouting encouragement, hurled blasphemous curses at the men. Even the seemingly most heroic moment, when Henry grabs the flag from the falling color guard, is defined by a antagonism, as both Henry and his friend "rushed, stout and furious...the young man and his friend had a little quarrel over the flag" (181), in an attempt to secure the glory of carrying the flag for himself. Crane chose war as a place to explore human nature, suggesting his fundamental belief in antagonism as the fundamental state of humanity they are not moments of battle in which the sense of hope and a common enterprise unites men. Instead, these moments come in the face of utter hope and helplessness. The most vivid moment comes in the moments before Jim Conklin's death. Because Henry sees the hopelessness of Jim's situation, he "strive to express his loyalty, but succeeded only in fantastic gestures" (112). In stark contrast to his antagonistic relationship with all the other soldiers up to that point, Henry is now eager to do anything for Jim. Henry never believes he can save Jim, he says in mourning "I'll take care of you huh! I swear to God I will!" (112), but he never dares utter that common refrain of battlefield literature, “you'll be fine.” He is silently aware of Jim's inevitable death, and although it is never explained as such, it is this understanding that distinguishes this moment from all other moments in which Henry retains his antagonistic sense of self-preservation. This interpretation is supported by Henry's lack of selflessness until the next time he faces helplessness. Henry again transcends his solipsism when he comes across a column of men who had burst "out of their jackets and accoutrements as if from entanglements." As they fell upon Henry, he "forgot that he was engaged in the struggle against the universe," forgot the complaints to his comrades to whom he had returned soon after Jim's death, and "stared in agony" at the men. Henry's ability to emerge from his selfish concerns again does not come from a sense of shared hope among the men, but rather from his recognition of the army as "defenseless" (130). The men in "The Open Boat" appear to have found an enduring sense of camaraderie in their endeavor. Men constantly and cheerfully sacrifice sleep and comfort to give other men a break from rowing. But this sense of altruism does not arise from a sense of collective enterprise, but from the omnipresent sense of desperation. Antagonism creeps into the boat only when it comes into contact with some source of hope. When they approach a tiny lighthouse, the first man-made structure, they saw the "four frowning men sitting on the dinghy, and they broke records in the invention of epithets" (235). This moment of hope is said to sharpen their minds, and "it was easy for their sharp minds to conjure up images of all kinds of incompetence and blindness and, indeed, cowardice": (236). When they see humans on the shore again, the men on the boat argue about the people's identities and thoughts, "no; he thinks we're fishing," "no, that's not a boat" (240). It's the only moment of disagreement they have during their journey. Visions of.