“All Is Vanity and Will Pass?”: The Hero Archetype and Monomyth in Western and Eastern Worldviews

How does the hero’s archetype and monomyth change depending on culture, and what are the differences in worldview and values between Western and Eastern heroes?

Swiss psychiatrist Carl Gustav Jung believed that the human psyche includes both a personal and a collective unconscious—a universal layer of consciousness inherited as a product of human evolution. This collective unconscious contains archetypes: universally understood patterns or symbols shared by people across cultures and eras. Archetypes act as psychological templates that shape how we perceive the world, representing primal images expressed as characters, circumstances, or situations that accumulate universal human experiences: journeys, battles, hunts, victories, rescues, betrayals, overcoming difficulties, the schemes of villains, and the support of helpers, among others.

Archetypes influence our perceptions, behaviors, and emotional responses, and are expressed in myths, religions, dreams, and other cultural phenomena. According to Jung, the universality and humanity of archetypes explain why so many geographically isolated civilizations ended up including similar symbols, themes, and plots in their art and oral traditions.

Jung identified archetypes such as the anima, animus, persona, shadow, and self, but did not create a strict system. Later, Carol Pearson proposed a system of 12 main archetypes:

• Hero (Warrior)
• Ruler
• Caregiver (Parent, Guardian)
• Innocent (Child, Simpleton)
• Everyman (Regular Guy/Gal)
• Jester (Fool)
• Rebel
• Magician (Wizard)
• Sage (Teacher)
• Lover (Hedonist, Aesthete)
• Creator (Artist)
• Explorer (Hermit, Monk)

Each type has its own characteristics, fears, desires, shadow sides, and a unique path that can be reflected in anyone’s life story. This path is often called the hero’s journey or the monomyth.

The Hero’s Return: How the Archetype Changes Across Cultures

“The hero’s return,” “the lovers’ reunion,” “the battle with the monster,” “the dangerous journey”—these plots repeat in our lives over and over, barely changing with time. How do they shape our perception of reality (and ourselves)? How are they reflected in film, art, fashion, and politics? Cultural scholar Yulia Milovich-Sheralieva, author of “The Hero’s Return: Archetypal Plots, Ancient Rituals, and New Symbols in Popular Culture”, explores these questions. Here, we examine how the hero archetype and monomyth shift depending on culture, and how the worldview and values of the Eastern (“lunar,” inward-focused) and Western (“solar,” outward-focused) hero differ.

Culture Type and the Hero Archetype

As discussed in previous chapters, archetypes—captured in images or plots—are constants: stable symbols that move from culture to culture. But since they appear everywhere and always, they acquire unique features depending on place and time. This adaptability allows archetypes to survive despite changing geography and history.

In ancient Greece, the Hero or Rebel is Prometheus; in medieval England, Robin Hood; in feudal Japan, the samurai. The Hero, Explorer, and Creator in the Western Renaissance are conquistadors and discoverers. Like their mythic predecessors seeking the Golden Fleece, the Holy Grail, Ithaca, or new lands, they embark on courageous outward journeys. Meanwhile, the Eastern hero, equally skilled and clever, usually journeys inward. Their main achievement is not acquiring material treasures or magical artifacts, but discovering their own superpowers and perfection. Hence the culture of ninjas, Shaolin monasteries, and Eastern martial arts, where warriors achieve seemingly impossible mastery, running up walls, leaping like parkour athletes, and breaking obstacles with their hands and feet.

Heroic Images in the West and East

But archetypes aren’t just literary or cinematic—they appear in real life, politics, and mass media. Who are the heroes in Western culture? They’re the cover models, the best versions of ourselves—those we want to emulate. The muscular guy who lives at the gym is the everyday hero in European and American culture: fit, with sculpted muscles like ancient statues. The image of the ancient Greek warrior, with ideal proportions and athletic build, reflects first the ancient, then the pan-European, and overall Western culture—a culture of bodily perfection and aesthetic proportions. He is the visual embodiment of masculinity. Heroes expanded the boundaries of the known world, populated Europe, and later set out from the Old World to the New. The modern fitness enthusiast, consciously or not, continues this ancient pursuit of perfection, as does the actor on the poster for the latest superhero franchise.

What about the East? What statues represent heroes in this part of the world and this culture so different from the West? Statues of Buddha, netsuke, and ivory figurines—stocky, round-bellied, full of vital energy, which they conserve rather than waste. All the agility and physical prowess are left to Shaolin monks or ninjas, while these figures embody tranquility, calm, and wisdom. At this very moment, the Eastern hero is making a journey—going through all 12 steps of Campbell’s Hero’s Journey—but within their own mind, battling inner demons, temptations, and weaknesses. And they win.

The Russian Mentality: Between East and West

Russia lies at the heart of Eurasia, and the Russian mentality is somewhere in between East and West. As Dostoevsky aptly put it: “Here the devil fights with God, and the battlefield is the hearts of people.” A good example is the hero of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (a classic Rebel archetype, a modern Prometheus), who commits a crime and then spends hundreds of pages enduring punishment. Or consider Chekhov’s plays, where the action seems static—characters play cards, rock in chairs, casually discuss dinner menus. Yet beneath it all, an ancient tragedy, an epic, something fateful unfolds. We feel this power, even though nothing “big” seems to happen on the surface—no car chases, bloodshed, or hair-pulling like in American blockbusters.

External vs. Internal Journeys

The external journey—Western style—dictates the image of the knight and his actions in European culture. The hero is always active, always on the move, literally or figuratively. Career, constant striving for success, the principle of “movement is life”—these define Western thinking and culture. You can’t stop: if you do, you’re no longer a hero. This image has been around since “superhuman” Antiquity, where god-heroes could do more than ordinary people. The concept of agon, dying at the peak, also comes from Antiquity. To die during a marathon or right after, at the Olympics, at the height of achievement—this was the ideal of ancient Greek consciousness.

Such a thing is hard to imagine in the East. There, the ideal is to live to old age, in peace and tranquility, at the peak of experience, knowledge, and understanding. To have the skill, but not use it. As the saying goes, the best fight is the one you avoid. The Eastern hero is a powerful, wise elder with a mischievous, playful gaze, observing the fleeting world. The Western hero is young, full of energy, eager for victory. Slavic images are somewhere in between—our own Emelya on the stove, Ivan the Fool (hero or just lucky?), or the bogatyr Ilya Muromets: inactive for thirty-three years, then suddenly springs into action!

Storytelling Structures: West and East

The difference in approaches is evident in the hero’s image and journey, as well as in the story’s structure. Western cinema favors two main types of plot development. The first, European tradition: the story starts with a detailed introduction of the hero, explaining what will happen next. The second, American tradition: the film starts with a dramatic hook, immediately and without much explanation—a teaser and exposition rolled into one, hinting at the finale. In the European tradition, events unfold gradually; in the American, we’re thrown right into the action. In the first, the hero gets ready for work, rushes the kids to school, chats with his wife, goes to the office, opens a package—then comes the explosion, broken glass, the wounded hero, the son’s gift—a teddy bear with a missing button eye. In the American version, the first shots show the bombed office, shattered glass, the one-eyed bear, and the bloodied hero. Only then comes the backstory.

Why does this matter? Because even in story structure, we see how differently stories develop depending on their origin—American stories start explosively, dynamically, with no delays or backstory. Details be damned! European tradition is calm and measured. Go further East, and you find even deeper, more psychologically nuanced stories. Take, for example, Ivan Maximov’s animated masterpiece “Tides Back and Forth,” about life on a shore where the water level constantly changes. The synopsis reads: “The morning ebb and evening flow change the course of life in the coastal town.” Even without seeing the film, this phrase reveals a typically Eastern worldview—contemplative, meditative, accepting the inevitable, cyclical. The author simply prefers this measured pace.

This cyclicality and meditativeness, combined with the aesthetics of the Moon and water, are evident even in the film’s description. The black-and-white animation, reminiscent of old sepia photos, tells of strange and charming creatures. Their reactions to the hypnotic ebb and flow are the essence of the story—no grand achievements or mind-blowing feats. The characters aren’t supermen, but endearing, touching fictional beings. Yet their journey is no less heroic—their selfless acceptance of circumstances, their perseverance, their stoic endurance of the inevitable. It’s stronger than them, but they don’t give up. Isn’t that heroism? Yes, but heroism in the Eastern sense.

While the Western hero, sword in hand and astride a horse, sets out on a dangerous journey or battles a monster, the Eastern hero fights their inner dragon: fear, despair, laziness.

The Hero’s Path: East and West

The hero’s path in the East is an inward journey, and non-action is the main action. The virtues are acceptance, understanding of cycles, and meditativeness that adapts to them. All is vanity, and all will pass. The metaphorical, contemplative cultures of Japan and China in advertising and show business are not just emotional—they appeal to imagination and imagery. Even the characters themselves are images.

In the East, the hero’s path is metaphorical; in the West, it’s literal—an expansive path of the conqueror, crusader, conquistador. In the early Middle Ages, the Western hero was a knight wielding a phallic sword; in the Age of Discovery, the sword is replaced by a telescope, cane, or pointer, and the horse by a ship or other transport. In the 20th century, the hero boards a spaceship.

In the East, the hero’s journey is also present, but after a very slow buildup by Western standards. Even today, the Eastern path (China, Japan, Korea) is still not direct or expansive: it continues quietly, through technology, philosophy, and culture. The East penetrates all societies through innovation, discovery, music, and film. While Britain, France, Holland, and Portugal reached new lands through physical conquest, the East conquers the world intellectually and aesthetically.

The East is always laconic—more about imagery than words. In Eastern art, we see concise speech and high artistry. Think of martial arts and theater: little verbal, much symbolic makeup and pantomime. Actors in Noh and Kabuki are restrained in speech but expressive in gesture. Russian theater is somewhere in between: many meaningful, deep words, but less action. Western theater, predictably, has the most action.

Material Western culture is very active: focused on strength, sex, violence, saving the physical body, and achieving success and love. In the East, there’s a disregard for the physical in favor of the long-lasting, the eternal. Life is but a butterfly’s dream—a memory of something greater. Here, the hero doesn’t cling desperately to life, which shapes their mindset and journey.

Modern Archetypes in Pop Culture and Advertising

Look at archetypes in modern show business, advertising, and fashion. The most popular in politics and pop culture are the Hero, Hedonist, and Rebel. Examples include Marvel superheroes and stars like J.Lo, Ben Affleck, or Justin Timberlake.

Think of American ads, full of archetypes in both images and plots. The main character is often alone: a businessman on a trip, for example. Egocentrism, focus on the individual—this is what we see in the U.S. ad industry, where the Hero and Ruler archetypes are popular. The American consumer sees such a person as strong, self-sufficient, and decisive. Their business skills put them “in the saddle” (the Knight of the past!). But such a plot would likely flop in traditional cultures like Latin America, where a lone hero would be seen as a loser who failed to earn respect—here, the Everyman archetype is honored. In the East, the Magician, Caregiver, and Explorer are more popular: audiences respond to the image of the wise one. In Italian car ads, the Hedonist hero is likely not alone, but with a beautiful woman, sharing the pleasure of a luxurious ride; neighbors and friends express admiration for his success. The Hedonist, and perhaps the Creator, are the true heroes here—those who can enjoy life and share that joy with others, without having to move mountains or leap over walls.

Solar and Lunar Cultures: The Final Contrast

Looking at the “solar”—active, energetic, present—culture of the West, we see spires, towers, and skyscrapers as symbols of conquest, reaching outward and upward. Overflowing energy, success as life’s goal—this is the code of Europe and the New World, tied to the external processing of the Hero archetype. If the West’s code is as bright as the Sun, the East’s is lunar: soft, hypnotically slow, evolutionary rather than revolutionary. Look at heroes in literature, film, and politics from both worlds, and you’ll feel how differently the same archetypes, images, and plots manifest. We are at once distant from each other and incredibly alike.