Great, short little book, from the author of the Jack Reacher books. A kind of meandering essay about the idea of what a hero is and how the idea has evolved (literally) with humanity and storytelling.

Worth reading, if for no other reason than this line: "There are only two real people in fiction - the storyteller and the listener." ( )

Rambling and purposeless, it's hard to see what Lee Child's short 'essay' The Hero is other than a hasty play for its author to be taken seriously as a literary player. I'm not really a Jack Reacher fan – I read one of the thrillers, which I found tolerable, and the character himself rather generic – and so I'm not one of those readers who is disappointed that Child doesn't dig into the dynamics of his most – only – famous creation. Rather, I'm disappointed that he doesn't dig into anything.

The Hero starts with an odd attempt to link heroes to heroin – a superficial word game eventually abandoned by Child – and spends the rest of the time (the book is a mere 77 pages) seeming to avoid discussion of literary heroes and storytelling structure entirely. The etymology of words can be revealing sometimes, but a parlour game at others, and Child's book seems like that clichéd speech that begins "Webster's dictionary defines 'love' as…"

Failing to deliver a coherent argument or insight into 'the hero' in literature – Joseph Campbell he ain't, nor does he really try – Child instead just mills around talking about various things. He spends the majority of these pages indulging in mostly unsubstantiated surface-level speculation on how early Man developed societies. He's read a few books and wants you to know it, and it seems like this opportunity to write for the Times Literary Supplement has gone to his head.

Did I say early Man just then? Excuse me, I meant early Woman. Child indulges that irritating modern affectation for using 'she' as the default instead of 'he' – which, certainly for a male writer, can only be a conscious and calculated affectation – and all his speculative scenarios in The Hero are of female cavemen telling stories to rapt listeners, fashioning tools, pushing the species to the next hill, while the man in the next hut is a bum who can't gather an audience (pg. 46). It would be strange behaviour from anyone, but from this writer of workmanlike, masculine thrillers it's particularly ungainly.

It's like Child is dealing with imposter syndrome, and now he's in this more storied company he's ready to look down his nose. "The entire purpose of story is to manipulate," Child writes on page 49, and while this cynical perspective might seem true for someone who's made an (exceptional) living from churning out capable thrillers according to a formula, it's certainly not the case for storytelling in general. If you look at genuine artistic expression, from the earliest cave paintings through to illustrious modern fictions, there seems to be a genuine hope and feel for humanity, an attempt to express abstract truths which the artist recognises but cannot fully express except through this strange and appealing medium.

The Hero not only has no original insight to deliver, but it also scores a huge own goal. After 70+ unfocused pages, the writer of The Hero tells us he "avoids the word, and distrusts the concept" (pg. 74). Not only does this sound like someone who's out of ideas, like a sullen teenager expected to write 500 words max on the topic of "the hero" for an exam – he even talks about hero sandwiches – but it also tarnishes his Jack Reacher creation. Child has already revealed his cynical opinion on why stories are written – to manipulate, remember – and here he reveals his view that all "the nice guys died out" in prehistory and our species is "a savage, feral, cunning bunch" (pg. 76). It's hard not to conclude that his own literary hero – the noble knight-errant Jack Reacher, righting wrongs – is also a cynical creation from someone who doesn't believe in it, or at least no longer does.

Whether Child intended this, or his attempt to write a serious essay on 'the hero' just started badly and became unsalvageable, the outcome is the same. The Hero is a tame and surface-level piece of analysis, unfocused and redundant and short, that makes its author look shabby by turning his nose up at what got him here. From start to end, in both content and style, it screams vanity project in its conception and cynical cash-grab in its publication as a stand-alone title. ( )

Outstanding. I hadn’t read it, even though I love the author, because the title and synopsis led me to think it was going to be about macho men.

Not at all! He writes the whole thing in terms of his female ancestors. He explains the evolution of society, and storytelling. Just wonderful. ( )

What did I just read?? uhhh 2.5 stars

This book appears to be about human evolution. It also explore the word "hero". I am not sure the introduction with poppy>morphine>heroin fits. Okay....it's heroic.

Lee Child has a quirky way to demonstrate evolution timeline. He uses his grandma and women before her until he gets to Lucy. Like 4,998 woman behind his grandmother or 2,998 or 1,800, or 500 behind her...and I am not sure if I picture that, but it's interesting nonetheless.

There is 2% about Jack Reacher, the character, and the rest was why there's fiction. ( )

A delightful long essay

Between the author’s cheerful, clear prose and the delightful and deliberate assumption of matrilineal descent in the human race, this long essay about the origins and functions of fiction and the concept of the hero is a pleasant short read. The author of the Jack Reacher books, Lee Child must have decided he had something he wanted to say about those things (and something to say in passing about linguistics) and he said it. I enjoyed reading it. ( )