Friday, March 21, 2014

Jason Grace—He Seemed More Like a Legend Than a Person

**Due to recent misinterpretations of some one post from this blog, a disclaimer is now apparently necessary.  If this is your first visit to The Scratched Camera, please read the introductory post and discover, for yourself, that every typed word that follows is unabashedly my opinion and mine alone.  In said introductory post, which, shockingly, I did not simply type up for my own good health, I state that we all read events and characters with our own baggage in mind; no one observes with a perfectly clear lens—hence the name The Scratched Camera.  Therefore, it is completely your will to disagree with any material that follows, just as it is my will to agree and advocate for what is mine.**  ~End, irritating obligatory disclaimer~

Jason Grace—He Seemed More Like a Legend Than a Person

            Upon my first read through of The Lost Hero, I had gone in with the expectation that I would be regaled with the furthering adventures of Percy Jackson.  Therefore, when the reader was introduced to Jason Grace—a demigod of equal power, and yet so very different from the protagonist I had adored for the previous five books—I was not necessarily pleased.  His entire attitude was so startlingly dissimilar to Jackson’s that it took me a large portion of the first novel to stop myself from hating him on sheer principle of his failing comparisons to his predecessor.  It took me even longer to prevent myself from avidly searching for some way to blame Grace for Jackson’s mysterious disappearance. 

            My dislike of Jason was initiated by his contrast to Jackson, but it persisted through the entirety of his first novel for reasons that I couldn’t quite define.  There was something inexplicable about Jason that I just didn’t like.  By the start of The Son of Neptune, not only was I ecstatic at the return of one of my favorite male protagonists of all time, I was intrigued to use the reports of Grace’s friends to further explore possible explanations for my apparently inscrutable distrust of Jason.

            His acquaintances at Camp Jupiter spoke highly of him, but they rarely spoke much of characteristics.  When Percy would ask what the boy was like, he would receive a rather lengthy list of accomplishments, but no real evaluation on character.  The pictures Reyna and several others painted were of a hero who was extraordinarily skilled—the stuff of legend.  However, this legend failed to touch ground, depicting Jason as a mold of a character, sans of any real motivations, internal conflict, or, at his very core, a personality. 

            In House of Hades, I was elated to find that I was not the only person suffering to define the characteristics of the enigmatic Grace.  While on a journey to defeat Sciron and his ravenous turtle, Hazel contemplates what she has grown to know of the man who accompanies her.  She recalls hearing stories about the legendary Jason Grace immediately from her arrival at Camp Jupiter.  It had been a Cinderella story—a boy rising from the lowly Fifth Cohort to lead the camp to victory in the Second Titan War.  All of this success was made all the more mysterious by his sudden disappearance, which only caused chatter about him to increase exponentially. 

            However, in actually meeting him, Hazel struggled to connect this person with the character she had learned was so incredibly successful.  To her, he seemed almost as if he were a porcelain doll—an object meant to represent a great figure, but which seemed distinctly detached from his person.  She describes him as a bit cold, with icy blue eyes and a careful reserve, both of which made it quite difficult for her to connect with him, a problem she hadn’t suffered with in regards to any of the others involved in the Seven. 

Fundamentally, where Percy is very open and outgoing; Jason is very introverted and cautious.  For the first few novels, this causes the reader to feel something akin to the struggle Hazel describes in House of Hades. 

            This is not entirely Jason’s fault.  While he does tend to internalize and overlook his own insecurities and fears in the early novels of the second series, it becomes clear in The Lost Hero that this is due to the extremity he experienced in regards to Roman protocol on raising a hero.  Jason was taken away from his family at a very young age and trained with the wolf lady Lupa.  While this has made Jason an impeccably skilled fighter—which, of course, leads to that obscene list of accomplishments mentioned previously—it is also responsible for teaching him to repress his emotions from very early on. 

            Some fans could write this off as the general sense of strictness evident amongst the Roman way of thinking.  While I would agree that Frank and Hazel are a bit more reticent than their Greek counterparts, they still have distinct personalities that serve other functions than to merely bore me, as Jason does. 

            This indicates that Grace has a particular sense of seriousness about him that isn’t necessarily present in all Romans.  There are, of course, positives and negatives to this sort of disposition.  He has a very strong sense of justice, honor and loyalty to whatever the quest at hand may be; no one is as dedicated as him to seeing a quest through to the bitter end.  While his ability to sympathize develops as the series progresses, he retains a certain callous in deciding the best course of action regarding his friends.  He may hold a loyalty to those he cares for, but if a sacrifice is required in the name of the quest, he will, at the very least, consider the options presented to him.  For instance, in Mark of Athena, he was the one to suggest Nico be used as bait.  While Hazel can acknowledge that it may have been the best plan after the fact, it still causes her to wonder what Jason’s next action would be, if he were to learn that feeding her to the carnivorous turtle would rectify all troubles regarding the quest in House of Hades. 

            However, his friends don’t always pay the price for his sense of sacrifice.  Grace restrains himself unnecessarily long on the Piper versus Reyna issue, as he feels it would be cruel to lead either one on if there is any residual feelings or obligation to be paid to the other.  Had he been in a relationship with Reyna prior to his removal to the Wilderness School, I think he would’ve resumed that course of action, if only for a brief period of time, solely out of duty to her. 

Grace even forces himself to suffer at the hands of his selflessness, as Piper is the only one allowed to acknowledge and appreciate his birthday in The Mark of Athena.  He refrains from telling the others, as he knows the weight of the quest is more pressing than celebratory actions over an insignificant birthday. 

This seriousness is responsible for producing the ever-present list of accomplishments associated with Jason, as well.  He started training younger than most Romans and is, therefore, a fighter that is an undeniable asset to have on a quest, equipped with a variety of fighting experience, all of which have ended in success.  The audience is told that he defeated Krios by his own hand during the Second Titan War—just, you know, the West Coast version.  In addition to this, he was one of several demigods who overturned Kronos’s throne and overthrew his reign resolutely—but, again, only on the West Coast. 

            We see his adept skill first hand throughout his role in the Heroes of Olympus series, which, in the process, occasionally pits him as nothing more than fulfilling the role as the muscle of the Seven.  He defeats the venti relatively easily, even managing to save both of his friends and Coach Hedge in the process.  In Mark of Athena, he holds his own in an involuntary battle against Percy, a feat the audience can appreciate as no small task.  Later in the novel, he helps Jackson and McLean defeat Otis and Ephialtes, the Mr. D equivalents of the giant world. 

            Grace retains a confident collectedness, even if the odds he faces are undeniably not in his favor.  While he feared, not only for his safety, but also for the well being of Piper and Leo, in the confrontation with Khione in The Lost Hero, he actively worked to appear impassive to her threats.  This composure serves him well throughout his time in the Heroes of Olympus series, particularly in House of Hades, as he works to keep the others tranquil, despite the absence of two of their friends. 

            Once again, Jason has Lupa to thank for this cool exterior.  While I can acknowledge that Hazel and Frank are more gathered externally than the forthright mindset of Piper and Leo, Jason still manages to take this to a new extreme not seen in most other Romans.  Often, when the odds are not in his favor, he will begin with an attempt to falsely pronounce himself as confident.  In The Lost Hero, he boldly declares to Porphyrion that he is the “child of Rome, consul to demigods, praetor to the First Legion,” as he daringly flashes his intimidating SPQR tattoo. 

            While, occasionally, he may actually be self-assured in his ability to come out victorious in a conflict, particularly in his role in the first of the series, things begin to change when we reunite with the character in The Mark of Athena.  His time spent at Camp Half-Blood fundamentally changed his Roman programming, resulting in a corresponding shift in allegiances.  By House of Hades, even Piper has begun to note a vital change in his disposition, as she observes, “his hardships hadn’t weakened him, but he’d been weathered and softened like leather—as if he were becoming a more comfortable version of himself.”  This version of Jason, still relatively on the dull side, is, at the very least, more relatable and understandable to the audience.  He has suffered an entire reboot of his sense of self and has come out on the other end, not sure which version he should remain true to. 

            Such internal confrontation leads to a very conflicted character—which, in turn, leads to a deeper, fuller personality that I can finally somewhat support.  This conflict comes to a resolution a bit later in House of Hades; as Grace attempts to persuade Auster to allow the Seven to pass through his territory, the god demands that Jason pick a side to commit himself to.  With this decision, he will resolve to stick with the strict sense of justice of the Romans or the laid-back acknowledgment of accomplishments present in the Greeks. 

            His decision to follow his Greek inclinations raises several very interesting questions.  Part of me can’t help but contemplate how much an effect his budding relationship with Piper had on the matter.  Furthermore, what changes would he have exhibited, had he resumed his Roman rank?  Would he have returned to the previous composition of his character—or lack thereof—in which he displayed a deep serenity and seriousness? 

            Regardless, while I’m still not necessarily affectionate towards Jason, I do prefer the little bit of personality his Greek influences have allowed to peak through and am, therefore, glad that he chose this path.  His actions to follow in House of Hades only confirmed the decision was a good one for his character, as the relinquishing of his various power and positions of authority only persuades me to approve of him further.  Finally, the character knows what he wants and isn’t fearful to embrace it, even if that means conceding some of the accomplishments he had worked so hard to achieve in his past. 

From Gary King to Nicholas Angel:  Is Jason a good role model?  On the surface, he would appear to be a better role model than Percy.  He’s upstanding, with a resolute sense of righteousness and what it means to ‘do the right thing.’  Grace sticks to his principles, only compromising when he thinks through the action at length and has ruled it to be the right thing to do.  He may have achieved quite a few things in his past, but it did not come easy to him; he has a resounding sense of what it means to complete hard work and reap the benefits.  However, the mechanical way he processes his decisions leads to some choices that can come off as cold and calculating.  While following the demands of the quest to a tee may be the right thing to do on the surface, his suggestions to heed any hurdle the quest provokes at all costs presents a conflicted moral center that pales in comparison to the sense of loyalty evident in most other protagonists—either male or female—in young adult literature.  While specific lines of the prophecy force him to toy with the concept of definitive self-sacrifice, he fails to exhibit the strict adherence marked by Percy and many other protagonists in the genre.  Furthermore, the false sense of confidence he occasionally exudes throughout the series sends the message that emotions are burdens meant to be neglected; this thinking, while not necessarily the worst example to set, could lead to a myriad of negative influences.  Finally, his repeated role in the Seven is to be deployed as raw muscle, whenever required.  At his very core, he is merely a good fighter, nothing more, nothing less.  This seems to say that amassing a bulk of strength, influence and power is the way to prosper and be recognized—a misrepresentation that disregards the versatility that is truly required to succeed in this world.  
Role Model Rating:  5/10

From Peter Parker to Spider-Man:  Is Jason relatable?  The Jason evident in The Lost Hero is far more difficult for the audience to relate to than the character we grow to know later in the series.  Jason is an exception at everything—always not only succeeding, but exceeding expectations at every turn.  However, as we learn of the complexities and insecurities evident in his character in House of Hades, the character is brought down to earth a bit more.  The reader sees that he struggles with the Roman way of doing things—he is troubled by the very training that has equipped him to be the impeccable fighter he has become, adding a level of irony to the situation that naturally appeals to the reader.  He also proclaims to have an admiration for characters that have risen from humble beginnings to rule, such as his idolization of Diocletian shows us.  He has employed this Cinderella method himself, as he rose from the lowest of Cohorts to reach the role of praetor.  However, his parentage residing within the head of the Big Three hinders the impressiveness of this climb up the ladder, as the reader can’t necessarily be surprised that a son of Jupiter was eventually viewed as an authority.  Finally, despite the progress the character makes in the most recent novel in the series, he still always seems to play the role of a legend, not that of an actual character and, therefore, remains illusive to the audience on a fundamental level. 

Relatability Rating:  3/10

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