No doubt you have discerned that I am a desire-driven woman. By now I am decades into the project of ruling myself, and perhaps I have somewhat gotten the hang of it, but that has not always been true. Take, for instance, my first day of kindergarten. I was to ride the school bus home, and anticipation of the glorious journey filled me with delight. When the bell rang I jetted to the bus line. Mounting the top step, I was enthralled. Here was Paul from my class! I liked Paul! This was living! The ride was so exhilarating that when it screeched to a halt at my stop and I spotted my mother searching for me, I decided to remain where I was. After all, I was on a magnificent adventure.
At the next exit, Paul dismounted, and it occurred to me that my life as a Kindergarten wanderer might not end well. But there was still a boisterous crowd, so I made the best of it, meeting several new friends who exited the bus one by one until I was all alone. As the bus emptied I felt panic rising in my throat. By the time the door shut behind the final commuter I was crouching behind the last seat in the back row. When the bus driver called to me in a tired voice to come out from behind the seat and tell him where I lived, I burst into frightened wails. I was still sobbing when he pulled into the school parking lot where my long-suffering mother was waiting. This incident remains not only a vivid memory, but an ongoing metaphor for my life.
But that is not so with duty-driven folks. I told this story to a friend, who is as dutiful as can be, and she responded with a blank stare. How could I have abandoned the secure plan to return home, not to mention having gambled my mother’s trust and approval? Didn’t I think about getting in trouble? Didn’t I feel guilty, insecure, squeamish? And why did I do it anyway? Was it only for a few fleeting moments of fun?
“Yes,” I told her. “Exactly. Didn’t you ever do anything reckless just for fun?”
She shook her head.
“Never,” she replied. “Even as a child, I always did the right thing. But I didn’t have a lot of fun.”
This was a revelatory moment in understanding my friend—and in comprehending a slough of literary characters.
Since stories reflect life, we can expect to encounter literary characters like my friend who embody the triumphs and trials of duty-driven life—and indeed we do. Consider, for example, this motley crew: Captain America from the Marvel franchise, the Older Brother from the Prodigal Son parable, and Hamlet from William Shakespeare’s eponymous play.
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