The Fifty First Dragon
76What the Heck
As a senior of Stuyvesant High School, I have had to read Mr. Heywood Broun's The Fifty First Dragon, a delightful little short story that mocked King Arthur and his court, and somehow related to the entrance of United States into the first world war in 1917, and then had to write a response onto how Broun did so.
Critique of Heywood Broun's Fifty First Dragon
As a generally accepted theory of evolution, humans share a common ancestor with primates, which explains the many similarities between the two species, including the mammalian instinct of protecting their young. Since the beginning of time, human parents have striven to secure a home, food, water, and other necessities of life not only for themselves, but also for their children. As civilization has evolved from a pure, survival driven society to one more focused on the fine arts and interactions between people, so has the way in which parents try to make sure their children are not absolute delinquents, and will be of some use in society. While this form of helicopter parenting is more common in some cultures than in others, the idea of paternalism is rampant throughout. Parents feel that in order to give their children a head start, they have to begin preparing them for life as soon as possible, taking advantage of the precious moments of life where babies are most susceptible to absorbing knowledge. Good intentions do not necessary lead to good results, and history stands testament to stories of parents' love for their children gone bad.
Mr. Heywood Broun, with an impressive track record of fantastic little short stories, is the author of “The Fifty-First Dragon”, a critical evaluation of the sense of paternalism blatant in modern society. In the story, the headmaster is awfully concerned about the well-being of Gawaine (and, perhaps, the reputation of the school), so he decides to push Gawaine on the path of slaying dragons. Gawaine, being the faint-hearted knight-in-training that he is, obstinately refused to go out and slay real dragons, and wanted to continue practicing on wooden, fake dragons. Determined to turn Gawaine into a man, the headmaster arms him with a magic word, which Gawaine uses to fearlessly, and successfully slay fifty dragons, in which he decapitates them in much the same manner as Sir Gawain of Arthur's Court. By the fiftieth dragon, he has grown pompous and completely dependent on the magic word, so that, when he forgets the word he begins to panic and cower and whimper. At the last second, Gawaine slays the dragon by chance, and reports to the headmaster about his newfound ability to slay dragons without any verbal invocations. The headmaster, much to Gawaine's surprise, told him that the magic word isn't magical at all – it is simply used to inspire confidence in himself. This knowledge shatters Gawaine's world, and he grows fearful and introspected again, and refuses to go hunt another dragon. He dies while attempting to slay his fifty-first dragon.
In this story, the headmaster is the helicoptering for people who are less privileged, or informed, or involved with society, and he represents the powerful force of paternalistic leaders. Through this satirical story, Broun shows how the headmaster's well-meant intentions (whether for the good of Gawaine himself, or for the school) eventually lead to Gawaine's downfall. The magic word that the headmaster tells Gawaine to use is nothing more than a confident booster, but by hiding the truth of the true powers of the word, the headmaster pushes Gawaine onto the path of dependency and addiction. The realization, that after fifty dead dragons, there is no word on earth to keep you entirely safe is devastating to a young man who has built his livelihood on the death of dragons. The knight becomes a pompous medal bearer who charges out to battle with leisure and strikes down dragons. As Gawaine ages, he degrades into a vain man who cares only about being famous and having his dead dragons all hung on a wall broadcast worldwide.
Perhaps the headmaster is being completely altruistic in helping Gawaine by giving him a “magic word”, but the fact of the matter is, Gawaine, as an untried youth, looked up to the headmaster for proper guidance, not for a leader to bring him from rags to riches, and then to the coffin. The headmaster should have realized this, and tried a few therapy sessions before resorting to lying and deceit – things that no relationship of any sort can be built on. Paternalism rears its ugly head as the headmaster realizes that since Gawaine is so dull, there's no point in spending time explaining the intricate workings of the human mind and emotions, and the world would run much smoother if Gawaine were to simply follow, and not lead.
This piece is not only a critique of paternalism, but it can be argued that it is also a critique on the pompousness and pride of those in a position to view themselves as paternalistic. When Gawaine confronts the headmaster about not needing the magic word to slay dragons, the headmaster proudly proclaims that in a fit of his own genius, he devised this whole “magic-word business”, to help Gawaine stand on his own two feet, and to help him transition from a little boy into a man. While the headmaster feels ten feet tall, Gawaine feels like he's been living under a rock all this time, and retreats from the paternalistic figure in an attempt to figure out what he's been doing with his life. In an effort to save the school's reputation from harm, the headmaster decides to use a little “tough love” to help Gawaine get back on his feet. This brilliant plan of shoving the uncertain, bewildered Gawaine into the path of a young, ravenous dragon, backfired, leaving the hero with nothing more than bits of his medals and awards as part of his legacy, and leaving the headmaster with nothing more than a slight twinge of his conscience.
In a broader sense, paternalism raged high during World War I. There were several main reasons for which America decided to enter World War I, including investments made in the Allied Nations, and the Russian withdrawal from the war. These reasons, however, were not what the government told the public when Congress declared war on Germany. They cited, as main factors, the sinking of the Lusitania, and the Zimmermann Telegram, falsifying the grounds on which American citizens entered the war, and used propaganda to paint the image of the USA democratically liberating the communistic countries in Europe. For a time, the patriotic sense of American citizens stirred them into action, and the armed forces helped to bring a conclusion to the war in Europe. When the troops trudged home, they were tainted with the images of war, much like Gawaine trudged home with the knowledge that the magic word had no effect on slaying dragons. Life changed drastically for the brave souls who managed to come back. However, they became increasingly distraught and afraid of war, leading many to develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The troops enjoyed a brief reprieve until the country entered World War II, but this time, with the memory of war still fresh and close by, war was brutal. Many who marched into it did not come back, and many left behind only a legacy of achievements.
“The Fifty-First Dragon” is a hodge-podge of critiques that voice out against the deceitful practices of paternalism, and how the application of it in real life is as devastating as applications of it in stories. Broun subversively discusses World War I with this story, urging audiences to see beyond the humor and the ridiculousness of the story, and to see their own lives reflected. While the peculiar decapitation games of the Green Knight of “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” are parodied by the method of slaughter preferred by Gawaine, the Arthurian tale was not the main focus of this article, but rather, a side note from which readers can build ethos and familiarity. Broun addresses the issue of the over-the-top paternalism which led to the subsequent betrayal of the nation in World War II, and raises the issue of when paternalism is really another excuse for furthering one's own goals.
- The Fifty-First Dragon by Heywood Broun
33. The Fifty-First Dragon by Heywood Broun. Morley, Christopher, ed. 1921. Modern Essays
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Very well written, excellent hub :)
I liked your review of Broun, once you got into it - however, it was a little muddled at first when you started with the "common ancestry theory" of evolution. That entire portion was not needed and was actually distracting from the rest of your well-organized critique. Regardless, nicely done! Voted up and useful!
Awesome article.










Timetothink 13 months ago
Awesome first hub! You are quite worldly and insightful, especially at your young age. Looking forward to reading more from you