My Two-Cents: Hamartia and Irony
A Hamartia is a concept derived from Greek tragedies, referring to a character's tragic flaw or error in judgment that leads to their downfall. In classical plays, such as those by Sophocles or Euripides, the hero’s hamartia usually plays a central role in the unfolding of the tragedy. It's the ultimate exaggerated Achilles heel. It’s also seen in a myriad of modern films…
"The Dark Knight" (2008) – Harvey Dent: His hamartia is his overwhelming desire for justice, which, after his traumatic experience, transforms into a desire for vengeance. This shift ultimately leads him to become Two-Face, causing destruction and death in his pursuit of personal justice.
"The Great Gatsby" (2013) – Jay Gatsby: Gatsby’s hamartia is his obsessive love for Daisy and his belief that he can recreate the past. This pursuit blinds him to the realities of the situation and ultimately contributes to his demise.
"The Godfather" (1972) – Michael Corleone: His hamartia is his belief that he can control the criminal world while maintaining his moral compass. As he becomes more deeply involved in the mafia, his actions become increasingly violent, leading to the loss of his humanity and the alienation of his family.
"The Social Network" (2010) – Mark Zuckerberg: Zuckerberg’s hamartia is his ambition and desire for validation, especially from his peers and the social elite. His arrogance and disregard for relationships, both personal and professional, result in his isolation and conflict with former friends and business partners.
Get the picture? Hamartias can be seen time and time again. In most cases, they end up being fatal, and consequently, viewed with a negative connotation. This is with valid reasoning – but I’d argue the way to defeat Hamartia’s is not to avoid them, but to lean into them. Why? Because if the previously mentioned examples have taught us cinephiles anything, it’s that you can’t avoid what you are! So in tandem, you can’t avoid your hamartia. On a personal anecdote note, my hamartia is running my mouth. Many times, it benefits me. But it also has gotten me into an array of trouble over the years. I’ve spent some time debating what to do about this debacle – and after long and careful consideration, I’ve decided to lead by example and lean into mine. Because at their core, they are double-sided coins: what propels us to success might also drop us back down to the first floor. And if you think I’m full of shit, take a look at one more example from cinema... at a character who does exactly what I'm proposing: accepting your Harmartia and leaning into it.
“The Shawshank Redemption” (1994) – Andy Dufresne: Andy’s hamartia, his blind faith in the legal system and his belief that justice will inevitably exonerate him, is the very flaw that leads to his wrongful imprisonment. In the beginning, Andy’s idealism seems to only set him up for failure. His fate seems sealed as he spends years in Shawshank. But Andy’s belief in the system, initially causing his downfall, becomes the very thing that allows him to transform Shawshank from a prison of despair to a symbol of hope and personal redemption. He doesn’t merely accept the system; he works within it, using his skills in banking and his knowledge of finances to expose the very corruption that had helped imprison him. By doing so, Andy not only exposes the faults in the system but also uses the tools of that system to free himself. His hamartia — his faith in a broken system — becomes the means of his own liberation. Andy transforms his moral failing, integrates it into Shawshank, and in doing so, gives it new meaning. He doesn’t abandon his belief in justice or law; instead, he adapts it to the circumstances he faces, using it as a resource to carve out his escape. His belief that good will eventually prevail is what fuels his persistence and enables him to survive. His hamartia becomes a driving force that sustains him through years of isolation, hardship, and despair.
In this way, The Shawshank Redemption offers a subtle commentary and irony on hamartia and how it’s not always about trying to rid oneself of flaws or weaknesses. Rather, it's about learning to accept them, understand them, and use them to craft our own redemption. (In my case, I’m going to continue running my mouth.) And that, my friends, is the beautiful, cynical son of bitch called Irony.
