The Blueprint of Belonging
By Darrell Lee
Human societies are, at their core, communities of narrative. We are bound together not merely by laws or geography, but by the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, where we have come from, and what we value. These narratives—whether they are ancient foundational myths whispered around a fire, epic poems chanted in a royal court, or superhero franchises projected onto a giant screen—function as the blueprint for our collective identities. They provide a shared vocabulary of heroes and villains, a moral framework of triumphs and transgressions, and a mythology that transforms a disparate group of individuals into a cohesive "we." By comparing the sagas of antiquity with the blockbusters of today, we can see that the technology of storytelling changes, but its purpose does not. Foundational myths, epic poems, and modern popular culture all utilize a similar set of narrative tools to construct and reinforce a sense of national or collective belonging, creating a powerful, enduring, and often contested sense of shared identity.
At the heart of any collective identity lies a foundational myth—a fictional story that explains the origin of a people and establishes their place in the cosmos. These myths are not concerned with historical accuracy; instead, they serve a deeper, symbolic purpose. They establish a sacred history, a timeline of events that gives meaning and legitimacy to the group's existence. The Roman foundational myth, for example, is not a single story but a rich tapestry woven from various legends, most famously codified by the poet Virgil in his epic, the Aeneid, commissioned by the Emperor Augustus around 29 BCE. The story of Aeneas, the Trojan hero who escapes the fall of Troy to journey to Italy and become the forebear of the Roman people, is a skillful piece of cultural engineering. It linked the burgeoning Roman Empire to the heroic, semi-divine world of Greek mythology, giving Rome an ancient and noble lineage. The myth of Romulus and Remus, the twin brothers suckled by a she-wolf and destined to found the city of Rome in 753 BCE, provides a different but complementary narrative. It speaks to a destiny marked by divine favor, savage strength, and a capacity for brutal, pragmatic violence—all qualities the Romans saw in themselves. This mythology gave every Roman citizen, from the senator to the legionary, a sense of shared ancestry and a belief in their "manifest destiny" to rule the world.
This same process of myth-making is evident in the formation of the United States. While more recent, the American foundational myth is no less potent. It centers on the figures of the Founding Fathers, who are often portrayed not as complex, flawed politicians, but as demigods of liberty who bravely defied a tyrannical king to create a new world dedicated to freedom. The story of the first Thanksgiving in 1621, which transforms a tense, complex encounter between English colonists and the Wampanoag people into a simple parable of peaceful coexistence and divine providence, serves to legitimize the colonial project. These stories, repeated in classrooms and national holidays, create a sacred history for the nation. They establish a set of core values—liberty, individualism, piety—and present them as being woven into the very fabric of the nation's origin. Just as the Aeneid did for Rome, these myths provide a charter for the nation's identity, defining what it means to be an American and justifying the nation's actions on the world stage.
As societies evolve, these foundational myths are often expanded and elaborated upon in epic poems, which serve to codify the values and heroic ideals of a specific culture. These long-form narratives focus on a central hero whose trials and tribulations embody the struggles and aspirations of his people. The ancient Greek epics, the Iliad and the Odyssey, attributed to Homer and composed around the 8th century BCE, are the illustrative examples. The Iliad, with its story of the rage of Achilles during the Trojan War, explores the nature of honor and glory, which were the highest virtues in the Greek heroic code. The Odyssey, in contrast, celebrates the hero Odysseus, whose defining qualities are cunning, endurance, and a fierce devotion to his home and family. Together, these two poems presented the ancient Greeks with a full spectrum of heroic ideals. They were not just adventure stories; they were educational texts that taught generations of Greek citizens what it meant to be a hero, a citizen, and a man. They created a shared cultural touchstone for the fiercely independent city-states of Greece, reminding them of a common language, a common religion, and a common heroic past.
Similarly, the medieval epic poem Beowulf, written in Old English sometime between the 8th and 11th centuries, served to construct a collective identity for the Anglo-Saxon peoples of England. The poem's hero, Beowulf, is the perfect embodiment of the Germanic heroic code. He is a warrior of immense strength and courage, but he is also a wise and generous king who is fiercely loyal to his lord and his people. His battles against the monstrous Grendel, Grendel's mother, and the dragon are not just monster-slaying tales; they are allegories for the struggle of a community to carve out a space of order, light, and civilization (the mead hall) in a world of chaos, darkness, and pagan evil. The poem celebrates the bond of loyalty between a lord and his warriors, which was the central organizing principle of Anglo-Saxon society. By listening to a poet in Anglo-Saxon England, particularly one who recited and performed epic poems and songs, often accompanying themselves with a harp or lyre, on stage, chant the tale of Beowulf, all Anglo-Saxon citizens were reminded of their place in this social order and of the virtues he was expected to embody. The poem helped to forge a distinct Anglo-Saxon identity, rooted in a shared Germanic heritage and a standard set of heroic values.
In the 21st century, the function of the epic poem has been assumed mainly by popular cultural narratives, most notably the superhero franchise. While the medium has shifted from oral poetry to the cinematic universe, the underlying purpose of constructing a collective identity remains remarkably similar. Modern superhero franchises, particularly those from the Marvel and DC cinematic universes, function as a kind of contemporary mythology for a globalized audience. These films present a pantheon of modern gods—super-powered beings who embody the values and anxieties of our time. Captain America, created in 1941 as a patriotic symbol to rally support against the Axis powers, is the modern embodiment of the American foundational myth. He is a selfless, virtuous hero who stands for liberty, justice, and the "American way." His struggles in the modern world—grappling with government corruption, surveillance, and the moral complexities of the 21st century—mirror America's struggle to reconcile its founding ideals with its contemporary realities.
These superhero narratives provide a modern framework for exploring our collective values. The character of Iron Man, for example, grapples with the ethics of technology, wealth, and personal responsibility, reflecting our societal anxieties about the power of tech billionaires and the military-industrial complex. The X-Men franchise has, since its inception in 1963, served as a powerful and enduring parable for the civil rights struggle, exploring themes of prejudice, discrimination, and the fight for acceptance. These stories are our modern epics. They are morality plays writ large, providing a shared cultural space where we can debate our values and define our collective identity. They offer a sense of order in a chaotic world, presenting us with clear heroes and villains and reassuring us that, in the end, good will triumph over evil. They create a global community of fans who share a common language, a standard set of stories, and a common understanding of what it means to be a hero in the modern world.
Ultimately, foundational myths, epic poems, and superhero franchises are all variations on a single, essential human project: the construction of a shared fictional story that allows us to belong to something larger than ourselves. They are the blueprints of belonging, providing the archetypes, values, and sacred histories that give a collective identity its shape and substance. The Roman citizen saw himself in the righteousness of Aeneas, the Anglo-Saxon warrior saw himself in the courage of Beowulf, and the modern moviegoer sees themselves in the idealism of Captain America. These narratives are powerful because they do more than entertain; they tell us who we are. They reinforce our shared values, justify our collective actions, and provide a sense of continuity in a constantly changing world. While the stories we tell will continue to evolve, their fundamental role in forging the bonds of our collective identity will remain as crucial and as influential as ever.
Darrell Lee is the founder and editor of The Long Views, he has written two science fiction novels exploring themes of technological influence, science and religion, historical patterns, and the future of society. His essays draw on these long-standing interests and apply a similar analytical lens to politics, literature, artistic, societal, and historical events. He splits his time between rural east Texas and Florida’s west coast, where he spends his days performing variable star photometry, dabbling in astrophotography, thinking, napping, scuba diving, fishing, and writing, not necessarily in that order.