Steelheart

Sanderson crafts the narrative around David’s hunger for revenge. Every activity, interest, and emotion that David feels after his father’s death somehow leads back to Steelheart. His singular focus on revenge helps him cope with internalized shame: He hates how he didn’t have the strength or courage help his father (not crediting the fact that he was only an eight-year-old boy), and he redirects that anger and blame toward Steelheart. He believes that if he kills Steelheart, he can redeem his actions and bring justice to his father. The narrative doesn’t counter the idea that Steelheart deserves full blame for his father’s death, but it does demonstrate how David’s singular motive for revenge leaves him glaring blind spots.

David’s greatest blindness is overlooking his actions’ far-reaching implications for both the Reckoners and Newcago’s population. David reflects, “Moral considerations had stopped bothering me years ago. Who had time for morals in a world like this?” (139). David holds an uncomplicated view of justice, believing that all Epics deserve death. Hoping to find similarly motivated and like-minded people, David seeks the Reckoners to help implement his detailed plan to assassinate Steelheart. Initially, the Reckoners reject his plan because—contrary to David’s simplistic logic—they maintain a future-focused mindset, believing they do the most good by eliminating as many feasible targets as possible. By not drawing attention to themselves, they can continue their noble work, but their organization may not survive if they kill an Epic like Steelheart. However, David’s passion captures Prof’s attention, who shares his rage: Their job is killing Epics, and someone else can put society back together afterwards. Prof says, “The work we do […] is not about living. Our job is killing. We’ll leave the regular people to live their lives, to find joy in them, to enjoy the sunrises and the snowfalls. Our job is to get them there” (99). Like David, Prof willingly sacrifices his own morals and well-being to accomplish his idea of justice.

However, not all Reckoners agree with Prof’s view. Cody dismisses David’s single-mindedness: “You’ve got passion to kill, but you need to find passion to live. At least that’s what I think” (98). David initially dismisses his advice, but as the narrative progresses, he finds connection among the Reckoners. Whereas early David uses the Reckoners to exact his personal revenge, he grows to prioritize other peoples’ well-being. Megan prompts a paradigm shift when she confesses that Steelheart doesn’t deserve to die because he does more good for the general public than any other Epic. Megan doesn’t convince David to abort his mission against Steelheart, but her perspective forces him to consider his actions’ impact on vulnerable people. Finally, seeing his father’s steel corpse reminds David of what his father stood for: “Looking into those steel eyes, I knew my father wouldn’t care about vengeance. But he’d kill Steelheart all the same if he had the chance, to stop the murders” (242). David sets forth to follow his father’s footsteps: not only killing Steelheart to avenge a death or redeem his shame—he never abandons revenge entirely—but also because it’s the best he can do for humanity.

In the end, assassinating Steelheart is no longer only about David, but also his friends and city. He dedicates his future to ensuring Newcago’s survival after Steelheart’s rule. After interacting with Megan, Prof, and Edmund, David even hopes to help a few enemies: “Epics can be beaten. Some, maybe, can even be rescued. I don’t know how to manage it exactly. But I intend to keep trying until either we find an answer or I’m dead” (384). David’s self-worth no longer depends on self-redemption, but in his dedication to helping others survive a broken world.

The novel advances the idea that “power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely” (15), especially with regards to Steelheart. The laws behind Epics’ powers show that using their abilities corrupts them inherently, making them hateful and contemptuous toward everything else. Refraining from their abilities is difficult, especially if used recently or in powerful quantities. The story indicates that once a person has tasted power, backtracking requires concentrated effort that few willingly attempt. The narrative suggests that power begets arrogance, which is how David identifies Epics among a crowd: “Epics carry themselves differently. That sense of confidence, that subtle self-satisfaction. I’ve always been able to spot them” (3). The solution to both power and arrogance is connection, empathy, and working for humanity’s prosperity.

Particularly in Part 1, the narrative characterizes all Epics as evil, citing “a distinct, even incredible, lack of morals or conscience” (77). Steelheart presents a special case because even among Newcago’s Epics, he gets the final word in everything. No one can defeat him—upholding his untarnished ego—or hold him accountable—giving him no reason to care about anything other than himself. Theoretically, he is self-sufficient in every way. Nevertheless, Newcago’s population serves an essential function in feeding Steelheart’s arrogance. Prof speculates, “It isn’t enough to have godly powers, to be functionally immortal […] unless you can use it to make others follow you. In a way, the Epics would be nothing without the regular people” (181). Even Steelheart recognizes that he needs other people, and without the Newcago’s civilians—though retained for dominance rather than from empathy—his physical powers mean nothing.

The narrative further explores Epics’ relationship to power by revealing Megan and Prof’s identities and showing how they cope without their abilities. Megan and Prof prove that Epics can retain their humanity by abstaining from their powers altogether. However, abstinence alone doesn’t make their humanity worth fighting for; they also need real connection with others to keep them grounded. Though Megan’s human state of mind still sympathizes with Steelheart’s societal function, she grows to care for the Reckoners even as she betrays them. She occasionally uses her powers to save her teammates—David in the elevator shaft and Abraham during the Conflux mission—and when she experiences the adverse side effects, David’s presence helps her recover again. After learning her secret, David doesn’t feel betrayed, but rather he understands that just as she helped him overcome his single-minded revenge, the Reckoners’ comradery kept her grounded: “The people she was meant to have infiltrated had instead turned her more human” (380). Denying herself her powers is an important first step, but her connections to her colleagues make her humanity meaningful.