Good genre fiction is able to transcend its genre and help its readers
resolve real life conflicts. I think of Star Wars telling the
story of how a group of self-involved young adults finds a sense of
purpose in the world at large and fights to save the Empire all against
the backdrop of star fighters and space stations. Buffy the
Vampire Slayer which carefully employs the horror and fantasy genre to
weave a coming of age story to which any teenage girl could relate,
complete with the fated Romeo and Juliet romance between a vampire
slayer and a vampire. And now, we have Perry Moore's Hero, a
story which juxtaposes our modern world with a world of superheroes
with superpowers – a world where, much like our world, young gay men
must surmount seemingly impenetrable obstacles to find peace within
themselves.
Hero tells the story of Thom Creed, son of a mother who has done a
family vanishing act, and a valor-and-superhero-stripped father who is
credited as the disgrace of the superhero Justice League. Thom is
an average teen: he plays for his basketball team, has a crush on
a local celebrity, does household chores, and has a hard time talking
to his father. Although we know from the beginning that Thom is
gay, it is never a driving force of the novel – a mistake so many glbt
(gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender) genre writers fall
into. Like anyone else, being gay is not the center of Thom's
universe, but rather, it is merely an event mixed in with so many other
events in Thom's ever-changing, ever-eventful life. It is for
this reason that I could not put this book down for a minute – this
book is real.
Developing superpowers for Thom is a familial taboo, so when Thom
realizes he does have a power, he is afraid to tell his father.
Paralleling this fear of exposure, Thom is simultaneously afraid to
tell his father – or anyone – that he is attracted to men. Both
his superpower and his sexuality afford Thom attentions he is not
always excited to have. There is name-calling from his peers,
disgust from his elders, and sometimes lateral effects on his family
members. Thom's superpower makes a name for his superhero team,
and Thom's sexuality eventually poses problems for them. In all
events, however, Thom is true to himself and – like any good
coming-of-age novel – Thom lands on his feet.
I read the brunt of this book in one day. With a packed schedule
of things to do, I kept telling myself, "put it down and do some work,"
but in every instance I ignored my inner voice and turned another
page. Although I rarely respond to books with a male protagonist,
I found that, as a woman, I could really relate to Thom. His
relationship with his family is real, swelling with hurt feelings,
communication issues, and mixed emotions. His self-image is real,
brimming with self-doubt and self-confidence all at once. And his
conflict is real, to act or not to act? To tell or not to
tell? Aren't these everyone's questions? Hero is a book for
everyone – gay, straight, or otherwise.
