It’s no secret that I
friggin’ love Animorphs. Besides mentioning it on this blog once or
twice, I’ve gone on record in real life saying that it’s better than hot dogs
(and I am a man who enjoys his occasional hot dog). Well, that and the whole “the series is the
reason I want to be a writer” and “it’s such an inspiring series” and “Cinnamon
buns, oh yeah!” thing.
I could gush all day
and night about the things that make it great.
Cool, deep characters with differing opinions and clashing ideals. A blend of action, comedy, and drama that’s
tastier than any strawberry shake.
Enemies and odds that pose a serious threat; on that note, the David
story arc is probably one of the series’ high points, keeping in mind that this
is a series that consistently strokes the stratosphere. I suppose that, once again, I have to give
credit to K.A. Applegate. Even though
the series is ostensibly for children, it’s still a satisfying read for young
adults/man-children. Conversely, it’s
shocking to see all the complexities that she presented to children…even if
they didn’t catch all the subtleties back when they were nine.
An emblem of capitalist greed.
But as I go through my
collection, reading and salivating and remembering a time when I used to get
issues of Nintendo Power every month,
I started to realize something.
Obviously, there are a lot of complex themes at play -- war and its
effects, idealism versus cynicism, etc. -- but one thing in particular started
to appear more blatantly than anything else.
(Blatantly, in the sense that it might be the main idea behind the
series; not so much as OH HEY GUYS LOOK AT THIS COMPLEXITY IS I A GOOD WRITER
YET DERP DE DOO.) It’s all about “roles
vs. reality.”
Let’s be real: when we
have characters in a story -- which is kind of often, as you’ve noticed -- we
anticipate them to fulfill certain expectations and traits. We expect the brave knight to slash some
dragons and save the princess. We expect
the nerdy loser to beat the bullies in the end (and maybe save the universe). Or maybe the weary soldier will do his final
duty and bow out. Whatever the case,
every character has a role to play. Animorphs is no exception, and probably
not the first or last to play with its roles.
Regardless, it not only plays with readers’ expectations, but with the
characters’ as well -- namely, in how well (or poorly) they manage to live up
to their roles.
If you’re not familiar
with the story -- for shame -- or just need a refresher course, here’s the gist
of it. Five normal junior-high schoolers
on their way back from the mall have a run-in with an alien who gives them the
power to morph into any animal they touch.
Why? To go head-to-head against
the Yeerks, body-snatching slugs that are using the kids’ town as a platform
for their invasion. It’s up to them to
hold off their assault until reinforcements can arrive. And thus, the battle for earth begins. Also throw in androids, a race of
millimeter-sized aliens, an indirect clash between two cosmic beings, and a
dimension of absolute nothingness for good measure.
At any rate, we have
our six heroes. Jake (the best one of
the six, IMO) is the leader. His cousin
Rachel is the pretty one, but also the gung-ho fighter. Marco’s the sarcastic joker. Cassie’s the nice one and the animal lover. Tobias is…well, I’ll get back to him
eventually. And once he joins the group,
the alien Ax is the loyalist. They all
have a job to do in the context of slowing down the Yeerk invasion. They all contribute their parts when it’s
time for action. And every last one of
them -- heck, even some of the side characters -- ends up taking issue with
their roles at one point or another.
Jake, the Leader (and the best one of the six)
Aw yeah. Dat’s my boy right
there! DAT’S MAH BO- no, no, no, gotta
keep the fanboy in me in check.
Ahem. Okay.
So it’s pretty much a given that Jake’s the leader. He’s level-headed, responsible, and reliable. He’s a kid who loves basketball, arguing about
comics with his pal Marco, and -- while he’s not devoted to his parents’ every
word, like any good teenager -- he still cares deeply about his family,
especially his older brother/idol Tom. But
when there’s a battle to be won, people look to him for advice and
support. When the Animorphs need snap
decisions in the middle of a situation, Jake’s the one who makes them.
But it goes further
than that. I’ve noticed in my re-reading
that many of the series’ books follow a certain structure: there might be a
mini-episode at the start that either leads into the installment’s main
adventure or gives an insight into the issues to come. The meat of the story comes from the missions
themselves -- typically not just one slog where the Animorphs motor through a
fight in one go, but two or three
“mini-missions” where they take multiple actions that’ll lead them to a
victory. Acquiring new morphs, a little
recon, protecting a target, etc; naturally, the last of these missions will be
a climax where they bring an end to the book’s conflict (usually crowned by an
encounter with an enemy attack force, or the heinous Visser Three). But what may be even more vital, and
important to the series as a whole, is what happens in between all that. The scenes where the narrator, whoever it may
be for that installment, gets a little breathing room and goes through his/her
life, contemplating, conversing with comrades, or otherwise doing what kids do
(well, kids who have to stop some aliens).
And what does Jake do
in these situations? Lead, at a base
level; it’s during these little excursions that he flexes his delegation
muscles. Taking in information, giving
orders as needed, while putting decisions to a group vote. Very basic, but respectable stuff. And then there are moments when Jake shows
just why you should respect him (besides the fact that he can turn into a tiger
at will). Though his humility says
otherwise, Jake is well aware of the group dynamics and internal affairs, and
makes his judgments as needed. He knows
that Rachel drives the others to do some reckless things, and he’ll adjust a
two-man team to compensate (especially if she’s just done something
reckless…which is often). He knows how
to use his partners’ skill sets to his advantage; when Ax offers to use himself
as a distraction, Jake says they need him inside the Yeerk facility to handle
their computers -- and Jake himself becomes the distraction. When he can’t come up with something on his
own, he’ll use the skills of his teammates to compensate. He relies on Cassie to give them details on
-- and access to -- most of their best morphs, and has an innate ability to
understand -- and even manipulate -- people.
He relies on Tobias to get the lay of the land and keep an eye out for
trouble, since one slip-up can bust their whole operation wide open. He relies on Ax to handle alien tech, and
just give information on aliens in general (even though he says biology was his
weakest subject).
I don't blame him. Seriously, what is that thing?
But what’s surprised me
in this rereading bender I’ve been on is a certain realization: Jake will flip his shit if you do something
stupid. As the paragon of responsibility
in the team, he expects -- or maybe hopes
-- that his pals will do the same. So
naturally, Marco will morph into a mouse to sneak into a pool party and punk a
girl who didn’t invite him, Cassie will morph into a skunk mommy and protect
its children and nearly gets stuck as a skunk forever, Ax will try to fight off
a nearly-unstoppable enemy for the sake of honor and loyalty, Tobias will get
closer and closer to the two-hour time limit and risk being stuck as a hawk,
and Rachel …well…
It’s shocking, seeing
Jake drop his cool demeanor -- but when he does, you start to think that maybe
he’s showing a bit of his true colors.
He’ll act rationally and won’t stomp all over anyone’s opinions in a
debate, but if said opinions get in the way of their mission, he’ll call them
out on it big time. Sometimes he’ll
start yelling furiously; he’ll emotionally -- but rightfully -- point out that
the Animorphs’ safety and group well-being is a little more important than
getting back at snobs or saving a few skunks.
Which is fine, and like I said a little frightening; Cassie notes that
when Jake’s really ticked, one of his veins starts throbbing visibly. But sometimes a person is more frightening
when they’re talking calmly -- because that’s when you know that their words
aren’t clouded by anger. In one such
instance, Jake is quick to chide Rachel for nearly getting them all killed and
spoiling their chance at succeeding in the installment’s mission. Does he invoke the power of the CAPS LOCK OF
RAGE? Nope. He just tells her that maybe she should have
thought of the consequences before screwing up.
All it takes is a cold stare and a few words from Jake to get Rachel --
hot-blooded to a fault -- to see how badly she screwed up.
How effective he is up
for debate, though. Even though he’ll
tell one of his friends to calm the hell down, sometimes they’ll do the exact
opposite of what they prescribe and act on their basic traits/mindsets. Does Rachel, currently in the midst of
morphing whenever she gets emotional (which, again, is often) stay put and let
the others come up with a plan? Pfft, no; she gets ready to go on national TV
and almost gives birth to a full-grown crocodile. Does Cassie decide that maybe the human race
means more than a few baby skunks? Uh, nope; she not only goes on taking care
of the skunks, but she gets the other Animorphs to do the same. Does
Tobias heed Jake’s warning and stop pushing the two-hour time limit before
being trapped as a hawk? Er…okay, that
was in bad taste. It’s like the characters,
in spite of good intentions, exist partly to push Jake closer and closer to a
future of sleepless nights and mild alcoholism, knowing that he’s got to play
babysitter every other day. Or every
day, for that matter; he’s usually the one that has to remind everyone that
they’re on, you know, a life-threatening mission and maybe now isn’t the best
time to have a debate about oatmeal or Arnold Schwarzenegger.
I’d assume that Jake is
aware of it as well. There’s always a
gap between what he wants to be and what he is -- in other words, a guerilla
general and a kid that just wants to goof off and chill with his family. But he’ll try his hardest to reach his apex,
for better or worse. And by worse I mean
“try to seal off any sort of weakness or indecision in order to project an
image of admirable flawlessness for his comrades’ sake.” Did I
mention he’s about thirteen at the series’ start?
Most kids want bikes for their birthday. He just wants to not get eaten alive.
With that in mind --
and the fact that Animorphs is more
or less a children’s book -- Jake has to make decisions that would make a grown
man take pause. Go after an ersatz Bill
Gates to bust his Yeerk-monitoring operation wide open, or prevent a little kid
from confessing to his dad that he knows about Yeerks? Keep ancient alien technology away from any
use, or use it to turn a society of peaceful androids into dog-faced
Terminators? Invite a kid that’s just
lost his home and family to become an Animorph, or act on your friends’ mistrust
and tell him off -- knowing full well that he’s being hunted? Every question that pops up is one without a
definite right answer -- a grey area at its finest -- but these six kids are
forced to debate and discuss them regularly.
And Jake, as the leader and the group’s strongest voice, typically has
the final say. Whatever the case, he
knows that every choice will have a lot of weight behind it; he may be young,
but he understands that some choices are morally right, while others are right
for survival.
That won’t stop the
choices -- and the threat of just having to make choices -- from tearing him up
inside. Applegate could have renamed the
series “I’m Twelve Years Old and What is This” and have summed up a lot of each
character’s internal conflicts. Jake’s
no exception. He makes it pretty clear
that he’s in this to protect his family, and more importantly get that Yeerk
out of his brother’s head. Why? So he can live out a peaceful life with said
family, and tell dumb jokes and eat together at the table and shoot some hoops
later. Small things. Simple, without ambition, but meaningful nonetheless. Then destiny happened, and Jake has to
regularly duck out of family and basketball and --breathless gasp! -- school to go on a mission at the
bottom of the ocean or infiltrate a McDonald’s.
Funny that in trying to protect what he loves most he comes dangerously close
to losing it. To say nothing of later
installments in the series…
But I digress. What matters is that the fight takes its toll
on Jake, pulling him away from what he really is by both necessity and his own
willpower. But what he wants to become
may not be what he -- or anyone -- really needs. In the same sense that he picks the right
people for the job, he also uses them to the group’s advantage…sometimes in a more
negative way than he’d prefer. One huge
example of this is when the Animorphs have to deal with a now-rogue David,
showing them just why the Yeerks hate enemies who could be anything, anywhere,
at any time. Exhausted after a
late-night duel (in which Jake nearly died, no less), the leader willingly
allows Rachel to go after David in their school. Why?
Because, as he explains later, he wanted
Rachel to go on the attack. He knew
she’d lose her cool, and he needed someone to scare David -- someone who could
make him hurt, if need be. It works like
a charm, but Rachel calls him out on it.
She doesn’t want to just be this bloodthirsty beast that Jake can call
on whenever they need an enemy attacked, but Jake seems content in doing
so. In a gripping scene, Jake admits his
folly, and that he’s crossed a line he never should have crossed. But this is war. He’s the leader. He has to put aside his ideals and emotions
for the sake of the team and the effort.
And, undoubtedly, he’ll have to make choices like that again…and again…and
again.
It's symbolic for...showing that...uh...rhinos can fly?
So it’s a given that
Jake has to do some dirty stuff in order to win and survive. But is it for the best? Is it worth it in the end? Well…negative as it may be, I say yes. In the context of the story, it was
absolutely necessary to have someone like Jake step up. Did he have do get his hands dirty? Yes.
Did he have to put his friends in danger and make them transform just
like he did? Yes. Did he end up losing a part of himself, and
forgo his childhood innocence in order to be the leader that everyone
needed? Yes. But remember, after seeing that spaceship
land that fateful night, there wasn’t a
single thing Jake did that wasn’t his choice. He could’ve walked away, but he didn’t. He could have said “Marco, you’re pretty
smart. You be the leader.” But he didn’t. He could have campaigned single-handedly to
save Tom and his parents and blow off the other Animorphs. But he didn’t.
You could argue that he didn’t choose to be the leader, but he sure did
choose to STAY the leader. Remember, at
the start of the series it was just five kids against an army of aliens that
might as well have owned the town. He
knew that bailing would leave them at four freedom fighters -- and furthermore,
four fighters without a solid leader. If
we think of Jake as a responsible guy, then logically that sense of
responsibility would make him choose to become the general the planet needed. Basketball be damned.
Jake’s struggle with
his “role vs. reality” is probably what makes him my favorite. All the characters face that little theme in
their own separate ways, but -- as an eternal idealist -- I’m of the persuasion
that Jake’s conflict makes him come out stronger. Maybe not necessarily better, or happier, but
certainly there’s something admirable (and of course interesting) about
him. He’s a kid who becomes a leader, a
general, and arguably a champion by his own choice. That one choice leads to a string of other
choices and decisions that he has to make; while they’re regularly unpleasant,
he takes them all on because it’s his self-ordained job. He has to put his family matters aside (more
or less) so that he can protect the happiness of other families, and give them
a chance to have boring, joke-filled dinners.
Dark as the series can get, the inner strength he summons is something
that brightens the circumstances. Young
or old, you can’t deny that Jake is more than just a leader or a regular dumb
kid. He’s a hero. A hero that can turn into a lobster, but a hero nonetheless.
…Well, that took longer
than expected. So for the sake of
expediency, I’ll cut off here for now.
But I’ll be back with another installment in this little character study
soon enough. Next time, I think I’ll
have a look at a certain magical warrior.
I’m so excited, I can
bear-ly contain my excitement!
…Except I’m kinda
tired, so I might take a nap.
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