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Growing up in public: Angel as Everyman
by Mazal HaMidbar
“Lieben und arbeiten” or Angel as Pinocchio: His journey to becoming a “real, live boy” aka a human adult man and his essential psychological achievement of shanshu. Requested and fulfilled by Mazal HaMidbar
Many fans of “Angel: The Series” were dismayed or, at the very least, perplexed, at the series finale at the end of Season Five in May 2004. One major plot point had the titular vampire with a soul going deep undercover as the newest member of the uber-evil Circle of the Black Thorn, the better to defeat the foe from within. One test of his loyalty was that he was required to sign his name to a scroll, thus obviating the prophecy of the “shanshu” that presumably had been his desire since the Season One finale in May 2000. As translated by his (almost) ever-faithful lieutenant, Wesley, to “shanshu” was Angel’s ultimate destiny: Angel was to live until he died, that is to say, he ultimately would be transformed (back) into a human being. However, Angel signed his first name (viewers have never known him to have a last name in any of his incarnations) to the scroll, in blood, without hesitation.
Some have advanced the position that what Angel did was meaningless, as signing one’s first name only does not bind any contract. Others have opined that it was invalid because the very nature of prophecy is such that it cannot be overturned. And still others have said that Angel gave up aspiring to humanity years ago, willingly assuming the yoke of championship without, as it is said, either fear of Hell or hope of Heaven.
But there exists a fourth and perhaps more radical position. All other arguments are academic, because, over the course of the show, Angel did become human in every way that matters. His sidekick Cordelia, in “To Shanshu in L.A.,” called him Pinocchio, the wooden-puppet fairy-tale character who yearned to be, and finally did earn the right to become, “a real live boy.” (The Season One finale episode title is clearly a play on the title of a famous film of a few years back, “To Live and Die in L.A.”)
During the time we knew him on screen – beginning with his alcoholic womanizing slacker human youth in 1753 – we saw Liam aka Angelus aka Angel lurch toward human adulthood, taking two steps forward, one step back, making just about every mistake one can, and finally grow up.
One of the most famous quotes ever attributed to the father of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, is that being able to “lieben und arbeiten,” to love and to work, is the hallmark of any competent adult. It is exactly this that Angel achieved, qualifying him as virtually human in the very best sense of that word.
Liam was “a drunken, whoring layabout” when Darla sired him in that eighteenth-century alley in “the village” of Galway, Ireland. He was “a terrible disappointment” to his parents, his highest achievement was that he had never had a chance “to die of syphilis” and he was proud that even at the age of 26 he regularly managed to avoid “an honest day’s work.”
“Sleep all day. Party all night. Never grow old. Never die. It's fun to be a vampire.” That was the tagline from the cult favorite film “The Lost Boys,” the 1987 movie that kicked off the vampire craze that popular culture still rides. And Angelus and Darla had more fun than most, “like Bonnie and Clyde if they’d had 100 years to get it right.” No maturity or adulthood there, and certainly no working for anything. Anything acquired was stolen from victims – blood, sex, goods, services, money. Angelus (vampiric Angel without a soul) had no more experience working for a living than Liam did. Even long after getting his soul, and after fits and starts at being a good guy, he never had anything resembling a job even in Sunnydale.
It was only when he came to Los Angeles and set himself up in a tiny, hardworking albeit unlicensed detective agency did Angel start living the life of a typical adult – one who goes to the office every day, who has a day job that often lasts into the night. He had employees. He paid them, including vacation pay. He fired them (for reasons that became clear only much later), they went off on their own, they eventually hired him back and he eventually took charge again. He demanded loyalty and got it to an incredible degree. He set the tone of Angel Investigations, whose mission was “To help the hopeless” (or, as it was sometimes alternatively given, “to help the helpless”) and to fight supernatural evil wherever it occurred.
Thus, Angel, who had refused in life to be any sort of employee, five years ago became an employer, a supervisor, and, in the main, a good one. He led by example. He was neither afraid nor ashamed to hire assistants smarter – or at least more specialized and talented – than he, though he often ignored their advice and often as not regretted it. He learned from his mistakes – glacially slowly, like most of us – but he did learn. And, when it came time to ask them to risk more than ever before, he won 100 percent loyalty after saying, “I can't order you to do this. I can’t do it without you. So we’ll vote. As a team. Think about what I’m asking you to do. Think about what I’m asking you to give.”
That takes care of the “arbeiten” part
What about “lieben,” or love? Angel himself admitted that until he met Buffy in 1997, he wasn’t truly capable of love, not even for his sire and lover of a century and a half and finally the mother of his son. Back when he was still on her show, in her town, in her life, he told Buffy that in all his unlife, he had only loved one person – her. Much later, he was shown to have a similar romantic interest in Cordelia, and possibly for Nina.
But romantic love, or eros, is not the only type of love, nor the highest. Even young teens – especially young teens – feel it, act on it, are capable of it. It doesn’t make them adults.
The love that makes one an adult, the kind of love that only an adult can give, is the love of a parent for a child (or any other caretaking relationship in which one willingly gives far more than one receives). With the birth of Connor, the more-or-less human offspring of two vampires, Angel was granted a miraculous opportunity, one he literally embraced from the instant he picked up newborn Connor from the asphalt of a rainy alley. He vowed that even “if he has to get to the hospital at noon on the sunniest day of the year, he’ll get there even if I don’t.”
Nothing could dissuade Angel’s love for his son. Not when the boy came
back from the hell dimension of Quartoth as “The Destroyer,” a bitter,
vengeful youth who refused to accept his paternity. Not when Connor imprisoned
his father at the bottom of the sea. Not the fateful one-nighter with Angel’s
own intended that resulted in the birth of the monstrous Jasmine. Not the suicide-bomber
scenario. Not even when Angel chose to relinquish Connor to a human family and
a more normative life.
Thus the abysmal (human) son finally became a wonderful (vampire) father, achieving the most self-actualized form of “lieben.” In his last, free day before the last, fateful stand against the Circle of the Black Thorn, Angel was able to talk face-to-face with Connor, to know “really and for once” that his son recognized him, was proud of him, was willing to help him, was a good person, one who would live on after he himself was gone. No human could hope for more.
Some fans were shocked at the very end of the series, when all members of Angel
Investigations are either dead or dying or in danger of imminent death. They
needn’t have been. For, in truth, death is the end of everyone’s story.
Angel may have died physically a vampire, but, psychologically and emotionally,
he was a mature human adult, keeping faithful to the mission to the last in
the company of his colleagues and friends. None of us can hope for more.