God, this has been in my drafts for four fucking years. In honor of D U N C 3 trailer coming out, HAVE IT!!!
LIKE.
The thing. the THING. The thing about analyzing Skywalkers vs. Atreides, about analyzing Star Wars in light of the glaring and deliberate Dune influences, is that the Skywalkers ARE the Atreides, except Unironically.
Obviously I'm being deliberately reductive for the sake of Snappy Tunglr Post meta, but it's the COMPARISON: Paul and the rest of House Atreides in Dune get to their Prophesied Position on Arrakis and in the universe at large because of centuries of careful, deliberate, manipulation. The mythological position Paul steps into when he sets foot on Arrakis is a construction for specific partisan ends, as are his own supernatural abilities. Part of the tragedy of Alia Atreides is her eternal inability to Not Be Herself As Well As A Million Of Her Villainous Ancestors All At Once, All The Time. She is forced into political and religious prominence quite literally from birth (and before), and the weight of it eventually breaks her as well as all the relationships she cares about in the world.
But the Skywalkers? The Skywalkers are, in quite a literal narrative sense, the unironic Chosen Ones. Anakin Skywalker was an actual trufax virgin conception with more Special Cells than any Force sensitive had ever had before, and by his hand both the Jedi and the Sith met their end. He DID balance the Force! He WAS the Chosen One! And he and Padme and his children and THEIR children continue to have galactic power and significance going forward - not because of Bene Gesserit nuns working behind the curtain of the messiah narrative, but because the Force IS STRONG with them!
(and also, as @vrabia has very validly pointed out, Anakin and Leia and Luke all got relatively normal childhoods compared to poor Alia, which does wonders for the protagonist psyche)
SO: when it comes to bb!Leia vs. bb!Alia, the fun part is always imagining a little bit of that creepy, self-aware vibe of Dune and its deliberately constructed meta-narrative imported into Star Wars, with its gonzo space opera earnestness and muddled Arthurian vibes. I want to be unsettled. I want to feel eerie vibes. I want to be ON THE SPICE, IF YOU WILL.
The nursery on Alderaan is never neat. Droids and caretakers and two worried, doting parents clear the floor every day and put the infant Leia into her crib at night, but somehow thing seem to move without anyone touching them. If the princess were older they would say she was doing it in her sleep, but how could a baby do anything?
The young princess is very quickly taught to grow out of having tantrums. The few palace staff who remember them generally agree that it was a good thing, too. All children fuss and cry, but the young princess's rage and tears had an odd way of rattling your bones. One felt, somehow, that she really was just about to do something terrible.
The Organas vet their employees carefully, but everyone is shocked when Leia's least favorite of their regular speeder pilots turns out to be a deep cover assassin from one of the trade unions who objected to Bail's speech in the senate half a year back. Security decide to listen to the princess's hunches whenever she brings them up, because she has an uncanny way of being right. It can be irritating, being given orders on the whim of the Royal Baby, but anyone who spends any good length of time with the princess develops a healthy respect for her intuition - whatever else they may feel.
Leia grows up loved beyond question. Her parents are Bail and Breha Organa, and this is also beyond question. Sometimes she sees things, hears things, above all FEELS things, just a little more than it seems like everyone else can, like she can grab people by the throat and yank them close to peel away the outside of their heads to see the squirming thoughts inside. But she can also see that that would be wrong and cruel, because this is what her parents taught her, and so she doesn't do that.
this might be a dumb comparison but would you consider star wars/skywalkers in general to be kind of like a greek tragedy? or at least inspired by greek tragedies? i just really love mythology and would like to think there’s some sort of connection in some way. thank you! :)
Definitely! Star Wars relies heavily on archetypes and psychological motifs, and many of them come from Greek and Latin literature. In the original trilogy, taken in isolation, you see more echoes of arthurian myths and classic fairytale elements than tragedy. It’s when you think of the three trilogies as a whole, particularly in terms of Anakin’s arc, his rise and fall and redemption and the repetition of the cycle with Ben’s fall just a generation later, that the Greek tragedy vibes become evident.
To put it in very simple terms, Greek tragedy typically revolves around a good/average man who has one “fatal” flaw (usually an error in judgment or hubris). Because of this, but also because of the crucial role played in the genre by the inevitability of fate and the cosmic order dwarfing humanity, fragile and powerless even at its best and at the mercy of much bigger and incomprehensible forces, the hero is bound to fall. And one fundamental aspect of tragedy is that the audience knows he’s going to fall, and watching the events unravel to the inevitable gut wrenching conclusion is cathartic. (see how the whole prequels experience is built on the premise that you know exactly how it’s going to end.) (also, side note, catharsis is a major reason why even today we need fiction, including “dark” fiction.)
The fall of the hero often takes the form of a heavily immoral act, a horrific crime against the aforementioned cosmic order that the hero performs either in good faith, as a result of his hubris, anger or passion, or because he feels he has to—be it accidentally killing your father and sleeping with your mother, sacrificing your own daughter to the gods, punishing your asshole ex husband by killing your own children, or choking your pregnant wife who has come to confront you after you slaughtered a temple of younglings. As monstrous as the act can be, the audience can’t help but sympathize with the fallen hero, because it’s clear he’s motivated by a desire to do the right thing (or to fix some wrong), he loves fiercely and intensely, he is (at least in part) a victim of circumstances, and the pain and punishment inflicted on him and everyone who he loves and who loves him is disproportionate. What happens to the protagonist is a metaphor of the fragility of human condition, in which sometimes a minor mistake or an unforeseeable chain of events leads to catastrophic consequences. Individual responsibility matters, but it’s always portrayed in tension with the cruel irony of a blind, irrational fate who tears good people and bad people down alike, which it often succumbs to, or is proven to be eventually irrelevant.
You can see how Anakin is in this sense the quintessential tragic hero. A good man raised in humble conditions but destined to be royalty, to be the hope of a galaxy, the fulfillment of a long awaited prophecy, who rises to a state of quasi-kingship (becoming a Jedi master, marrying a former queen), but remains ultimately a slave—to his own passions and fears, to destiny (as personified by Palpatineworking slowly to corrupt him), to the will of the gods (the Force), to the trappings and limitations of a corrupt society (the Jedi order and the republic). His one fatal flaw, loving Padmé, backfires and turns him into the very cause of her death.
Ben’s fall is also deeply tragic, as it’s the result of a twofold lapse in judgment: Luke’s (who falls for a second prey of his own darkness and briefly considers executing his nephew for the greater good) and Ben’s himself (who mistakes this one second of weakness for a truly murderous intent, and violentlyretaliates, and never stops acting on the false assumption that his uncle was really going to kill him).
Hubris and madness are two other crucial themes in greek tragedy and I can see the dark side as a fascinating space opera portrayal of both. And then, vengeance, and family—and even more relevant to star wars, the cycle of violence-pain-revenge. The original crime opens a wound in the cosmic order (you could also say: the Force becomes unbalanced) that spreads like a cancer dooming multiple generationsand is only really healed when there is a genuine will to step out of this cycle.
This is imo the key to understand the three trilogies in their entirety, and what they’re trying to do with the sequel trilogy in particular. Many people struggle with Ben’s fall because he “had everything”—i.e. was born in a time of peace, from a loving family of revered rebellion heroes, with unique force powers and someone to teach him how to use them, etc.—so his turning to the dark side is thrice as hard to swallow. Was he a bad seed from the start? Or did he just infuriatingly squander all he had? Other people complain that the new trilogy is built on a nihilistic concept, that evil always come back cyclically one way or another, that victory is never complete, that the heroes are bound to make the same mistakes over and over again, or that everyone is inevitably destined to be corrupted and lose hope (see the discourse re: Luke in TLJ).
Both miss the point, in my opinion. The way I see it, it all ties back to Anakin’s original crime—his tragic, blood-soaked fall to the dark side, order 66, and most importantly Padmé’s death—and how that crime was a cosmic wound that tore the balance of the universe apart and was never fully healed. So it reverberates across the galaxy, onto his progeny, and his progeny’s progeny (Ben).
Luke did begin to make things right—by choosing to reject violence he gave Vader the chance to sacrifice himself to to kill the emperor and save his son, which earned him his redemption. And…it’s a good way to end a story if you want it to end there, but if you want the story to continue, then you have to face the fact that it’s only a partial, and in many ways convenient solution to a much larger problem. Vader’s redemption did nothing to eradicate the deep-seated political views of those who were still loyal to the Empire and fighting for a dictatorship in the moment when Palpatine was killed. It wasn’t enough for Luke and Leia to actually embrace their lineage and come out as Vader’s children, if Bloodline is to be believed. It wasn’t enough to shield little Ben from Snoke’s attentions—in fact, Anakin’s blood is exactly what put a big ol’ target on Ben’s back, with nothing of his grandfather’s post-redemption wisdom to keep him on the right track, only the myth of his legacy, a myth that as we’ve sadly seen can be easily misconstrued and exploited and that Leia and Luke never properly explained to Ben either. Anakin just died, and if that single sacrifice was enough to save his soul, it actually didn’t do much to fix the countless wrongs he contributed to create during the two decades he served the Empire as lord Vader. The galaxy bled because of him. And he just died and left his children to clean up his mess. Lucas’ original idea that Vader’s redemption brought balance to the Force is a good happily ever after, but only if you don’t really plan to deal with the consequences.
More on a thematic level, RotJ represents a perfect fairytale ending on almost all fronts but it leaves a question unanswered: was Anakin wrong to love Padmé? Is romantic love wrong? Aside from Han and Leia—whose marriage didn’t end well anyway—romantic love comes out of this narrative as a tragically negative force. Specifically, romantic love for a Jedi. If you consider the first six films, the logical conclusion is that the Jedi were right, after all, to forbid romantic attachments, because look at the mess Anakin made. Anakin destroyed himself and Padmé. It was only Luke’s familial love that made him come back to the light—Luke, the eternal celibate Jedi. Familial love is good, romantic love is poisonous. The narrative absolutely implies this reading.
So although RotJ’s ending fixes everything on a superficial level, the wound keeps festering underneath, there are still many things that weren’t made right, and this is why only a few years later Luke is still so haunted by the darkness and still so afraid that a new Vader is possible that he actually considers killing his nephew for a split second. This is why the ashes of the old Empire don’t die out, but instead give birth to a new tyrannical power; and why Leia cannot be free to live her life in peace with her family, but still feels committed to a rebellion that never ceased to have reasons to exist, even after the Emperor’s death.The gods (the Force) aren’t satisfied, if you will, so they keep punishing this family. The original evil has not been completely exorcised. Love, personified by Padmé’s unacceptable, unnatural death, hasn’t been vindicated. The balance is not restored. And Ben falls.
The sequel trilogy is set to heal this wound, for real, this time. It’s also why it has a much darker tone (despite the superficial humor) than the original trilogy. It’s not impossible for a tragedy to have a happy ending, but the resolution must have the same tone, the same gravity of the premise. The prequels are a tragedy, and the original trilogy is essentially a fairytale, a hero’s journey—they’re basically two different genres, and Vader’s last minute redemption seems (and is) inadequate once you’ve seen all three movies of his very detailed and nuanced fall to the Dark Side.
We’re watching, through Ben, the tortured redemption arc that should have been written for Vader if this story had followed a chronologically and stylistically linear narrative. Through Ben and Rey, we’re watching a reconciliation of the Dark and the Light side, whose unresolved conflict, worsened by the repressive puritanical policy of the Jedi order, originated the schism in Anakin’s soul. And we’ll also (hopefully) get the answer to that question I said earlier, and see the redemption of romantic love.
Next up is one of our first full houses, House Skywalker
Not a lot has changed here. Luke and Leia are young adults now, ready to move on in the world. I'm considering replacing Han with Louie Duck, partially because I think it'd be hilarious and Louie probably needs someone who'll boss him around. No idea who Luke would marry (in the first iteration of this he ended up with one of Starco's daughters but they don't have any kids his age)
Out of curiosity: who are all your favourite SW characters?
Look, essentially I’m in this for house Skywalker.
Not that I don’t love other characters (Obi Wan, Padmé, Qui-Gon Jinn, Han, Chewie, the little I’ve seen of Ahsoka–I really need to catch up on clone wars/rebels lol—and obviously Finn and Rey, whom I’m still figuring out), but the Skywalkers are where my heart is. Anakin and Kylo are these walking human disasters (for different reasons) whose personalities I would go on dissecting for years, and the twins are the fairytale heroes of my childhood grown into the adult heroes of my present days. They embody the simple, archetypal yet complex quality that I’ll forever associate with Star Wars, built around a constant dialogue between opposites. I love the greatness/madness thing going on in this bloodline, the (rediscovery of) family dynamics, the chosen one(s) narrative, the greek tragedy vibes, the anger issues, the DRAMA QUEEN-ness, the fact that they’re all born in mysterious and/or significant circumstances—born in the Force and so intrinsically tied to its destiny, the legacy as a burden and history repeats itself themes. In the movies at least, they’re this unstoppable force (heh) fueling the narrative and aggregating disparate characters and tying everything together. Or DESTROYING it. The story literally clenches and dilates around them—around their personal conflicts and whatever they want to do with their incredible power (Anakin falls, the Republic and the Jedi order fall. Luke reconnects with dad? The galaxy rejoices and is pacified. Ben sulks and the dark side festers in him? the seeds for the rise of a new evil empire are planted. The rebellion and, three decades later, the resistance solidify around Leia’s iron will).
so yes I’m mostly here for this thrice damned family… and for those gravitating around them who become part of the family even without literal blood ties, iykwim. it’s no coincidence that my other faves are all somehow connected to the Skywalkers via romance or friendship or mentorship or antagonism and that my fave dynamics are almost always Skywalker x Other (except when it’s Skywalker², like Luke/Leia or Luke/Vader or… various combinations involving Kylo).
