Yours truly, writing for Wired Magazine:
Luke Skywalker is a bumpkin. Before heading off to fight the Empire, he apparently never gets much farther than a country store that sells power converters. Over the course of three movies, his every foray into urban-ness strips away a layer of naïveté, shattering his innocence so utterly that he is almost completely corrupted. Luke doesn’t find peace until the end of Return of the Jedi, when he cremates his father’s remains—alone, in the woods.
It’s a reboot of an older piece of mine, but shorter, sharper, and surrounded by all sorts of Star Wars goodness in this special issue. (It’s number 21 in the web version, but number 11 in the magazine.)