powers to defeat evil and bullies (not unlike those Nordic myths that gave
rise to Nazism), they tapped into the universal desire for invincible heroes to
uphold, in this case, “Truth, Justice, and the American Way.”
It is no mystery why the powerless conjure white knights,
demigods, or supermen to defeat their foes; similarly, it is expected that the
powerful will consolidate real strength through heroic manifestation too.
“The chief business of the nation, as a nation,” wrote H. L. Mencken, the
petulant American critic and journalist, “is the setting up of heroes, mainly
bogus.” And the job of the illustrator and graphic designer in this particular
business is to bolster false heroes with graphic façades.
Whether in the service of democracy or dictatorship, during the
twentieth century, artists and graphic designers have been responsible for
the lion’s share of hero-mongering. They have painted the paintings, drawn
the drawings, and designed the icons that impress a leader’s likeness on
mass consciousness. Heroism relies on establishing credible myths that
sustain heroic legend. In the West heroic figures are, in addition, the moral
equivalent of commercial trade characters, and function on a similar level.
A heroic figure must at once prompt recognition, engender response, and
forge indelible bonds.
The depiction of Uncle Sam is a good example. As he appeared in
1917 on recruitment posters created by the American illustrator James
Montgomery Flagg, he was the Armed Forces’ rendition of the Campbell’s
Soup Kids, Armour Meat Man, and Aunt Jemima. Flagg himself was the
model for the famous “I Want You” poster, but he purposely exaggerated
his naturally rugged features for heroic affect. To truly be inspiring, a heroic
figure must start with a human visage, and in 1914 Alfred Leete designed
the first of such modern images: “Britons [Lord Kitchener] Wants you”
poster, with a silhouette of England’s highest-ranking general as pitchman,
pointing his finger directly at the viewer. Kitchener was a real person, but
Leete transformed him into a romantic symbol.
While Flagg’s rendering of Uncle Sam was not yet a real part of
the American consciousness, he was a composite of the historical Uncle
Sam and his own heroic visage. Similarly, in 1917, 1919, and 1920
respectively, the Italians, Germans, and Russians issued recruitment posters
with the exact same “I Want You” motif showing renderings of idealized
soldiers beckoning the viewer to follow the leader into war.
Nations use heroic representation to unite their citizenry behind
an idea or ruler. Democracies heroicize the common man; dictatorships
worship leaders. But both engage in necromancy through representations of
fallen heroes because there is no better way to capture hearts and minds
than to promote heroic martyrs. In Nazi Germany, “the fallen become part
tuis.
(Tuis.)
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