Seeking Our Selves in Television Myths

The series "House" has ended, and the character of Gregory House stayed unrepentant to the end, though he (spoiler alert if you haven’t seen it) redeemed himself in his own twisted fashion by faking his death so he could be free to make the final months of his best friend, Wilson, happy. He literally lays down his life for his friend, and as we have been told, greater love hath no man.

The fifth series of "Doc Martin" recently completed its run here. The lead character on that show, Doctor Martin Ellingham, is less acerbic than Gregory House, though also a victim of what seems to be a hard-wired disregard for people’s feelings and an arrogant assumption that he’s right about everything. He is not interested in changing himself until he almost loses Louisa, the love of his life. Then he bends and actually says something nice to Louisa – he tells her he has been an idiot and he loves her, thus insuring that there will be a season 6 of the show. Whew. I’m not so certain that a person like Doc Martin in real life would be able to make that about-face, but what the heck. I love the show, and I’m glad there will be more episodes.

Dr. Temperance Brennan, of the series "Bones" has a relentlessly rational approach to life which clashes with the heartfelt approach of her work and life partner, Seely Booth, who is also the father of their child. The show constantly shows Booth and Bones at odds, but it is Bones who has to learn to give, to accept emotion, to move toward a balance between rational thought and emotions.

I look at these characters and think about how interesting it is that these three television shows and their flawed main characters are so popular. It has been suggested of all three that they might have Asperger’s syndrome, a form of autism that tends to couple mental brilliance with social ineptitude. Most of us have known someone like that. Some of us are someone like that.

We love these characters. They make us laugh, and we feel for their pain as they experience their epic fails at being human. We cheer when they learn to connect with other people.

Then there was Mr. Spock on "Star Trek," and Data, the sentient android who wanted to be human, on "Star Trek: Next Generation."

I think these television shows are modern myths, and the struggles of these characters reflect our own struggles with being human. It’s good that we struggle with our humanity, and I am encouraged that television shows, our myths, about characters who struggle with their humanity are popular. It makes me think that people do continue to struggle toward becoming more fully realized and authentic human beings, and are engaged by stories about that struggle.

Another pattern I’ve noticed is one of lead guys on television crime procedural shows being husbands and/or fathers who have lost their families to crime – Monk on "Monk," Gibbs on "NCIS," and Jane on "The Mentalist." I have not thought through what that myth is about – the man who has lost his family to violent crime and is motivated to seek answers and get revenge. Monk lost his wife; in the other two cases the lost family members were a wife and a daughter. I could postulate that these stories are about men who are seeking to reunite with the brutalized – murdered – feminine sides of their natures.

But it’s almost deadline, and I’m not really educated enough to go much farther out on this limb. These are things I ponder sometimes, when I’m staring out the window at the crow eating sunflower seeds in the rain. It’s more thrilling to watch that crow than television.

But you knew that.