| dr_malaki | 12-31-2003 06:11 PM |
Just how dead was she? How are we to interpret her apparently spontaneous resurrection? It sure startled the heck out of Beck, who I assume knew a lot more about robotics than I do, and it was my impression as well that she was pretty much finished.
Should it be viewed as something actually miraculous, in the literal, supernatural sense? The way Christians believe that Christ *really* died on the cross (and wasn't just in a coma or a drugged stupor or anything like that) and *really* came back to life miraculously?
Don't get me wrong: I was *happy* when she sat up
-- even though it didn't quite go along with my own vision of how it ought to play out, which was a sort of "Sleeping-Beauty-saved-with-a-kiss"-type scenario, or like the happy, "eucatastrophic" ending of "The Black Bull of Norroway," cited by J.R.R. Tolkien in his famous essay "On Fairy Stories":
"It is the mark of a good fairy-story, of the higher or more complete kind, that however wild its events, however fantastic or terrible the adventures, it can give to child or man that hears it, when the 'turn' comes, a catch of breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, near to (or indeed accompanied by) tears, as keen as that given by any form of literary art, and having a peculiar quality.
Even modern fairy-stories can produce this effect sometimes, It is not an easy thing to do; it depends on the whole story which is the setting of the turn, and yet it reflects a glory backwards. A tale that in any measure succeeds in this point has not wholly failed, whatever flaws it may possess, and whatever mixture or confusion of purpose. It happens even in Andrew Lang's own fairy-story, _Prince Prigio_, unsatisfactoty in many ways as that is. When 'each knight came alive and lifted his sword and shouted "Long live Prince Prigio,"' the joy has a little of that strange mythical fairy-story quality, greater than the event described. ... Far more powerful and poignant is the effect in a serious tale of Faerie. In such stories when the sudden 'turn' comes we get a piercing glimpse of joy, and heart's desire, that for a moment passes outside the frame, rends indeed the very web of story, and lets a gleam come through.
*Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clamb [climbed] for thee,
The bluidy [bloody] shirt I wrang for thee,
And wilt thou not wauken [waken] and turn to me?
He heard and turned to her.*"
Many times watching Big O has affected me just the way -- "indeed accompanied by tears" -- that Tolkien describes.
I got it when dead Dorothy sat up. I got it when Roger "heard and turned to her" there at the bottom of the sea.
But somehow the very end did not work for me that way. On the contrary I was filled with a kind of speechless horror and despondency. It seemed like a true, unmitigated catastrophe, not a "eucatastrophe." More than a let-down, beyond a disappointment -- almost a sort of betrayal. I thought of the line from the old Beatles song, "Eleanor Rigby":
Father McKenzie,
Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walked from the grave,
No one was saved ...
It was almost as if the Ringbearer(s)' quest failed in _LotR_, and Sauron did reclaim the One Ring, or even as if ... well, never mind, I can't say it.
Doc
Should it be viewed as something actually miraculous, in the literal, supernatural sense? The way Christians believe that Christ *really* died on the cross (and wasn't just in a coma or a drugged stupor or anything like that) and *really* came back to life miraculously?
Don't get me wrong: I was *happy* when she sat up
-- even though it didn't quite go along with my own vision of how it ought to play out, which was a sort of "Sleeping-Beauty-saved-with-a-kiss"-type scenario, or like the happy, "eucatastrophic" ending of "The Black Bull of Norroway," cited by J.R.R. Tolkien in his famous essay "On Fairy Stories":"It is the mark of a good fairy-story, of the higher or more complete kind, that however wild its events, however fantastic or terrible the adventures, it can give to child or man that hears it, when the 'turn' comes, a catch of breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, near to (or indeed accompanied by) tears, as keen as that given by any form of literary art, and having a peculiar quality.
Even modern fairy-stories can produce this effect sometimes, It is not an easy thing to do; it depends on the whole story which is the setting of the turn, and yet it reflects a glory backwards. A tale that in any measure succeeds in this point has not wholly failed, whatever flaws it may possess, and whatever mixture or confusion of purpose. It happens even in Andrew Lang's own fairy-story, _Prince Prigio_, unsatisfactoty in many ways as that is. When 'each knight came alive and lifted his sword and shouted "Long live Prince Prigio,"' the joy has a little of that strange mythical fairy-story quality, greater than the event described. ... Far more powerful and poignant is the effect in a serious tale of Faerie. In such stories when the sudden 'turn' comes we get a piercing glimpse of joy, and heart's desire, that for a moment passes outside the frame, rends indeed the very web of story, and lets a gleam come through.
*Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clamb [climbed] for thee,
The bluidy [bloody] shirt I wrang for thee,
And wilt thou not wauken [waken] and turn to me?
He heard and turned to her.*"
Many times watching Big O has affected me just the way -- "indeed accompanied by tears" -- that Tolkien describes.
I got it when dead Dorothy sat up. I got it when Roger "heard and turned to her" there at the bottom of the sea.
But somehow the very end did not work for me that way. On the contrary I was filled with a kind of speechless horror and despondency. It seemed like a true, unmitigated catastrophe, not a "eucatastrophe." More than a let-down, beyond a disappointment -- almost a sort of betrayal. I thought of the line from the old Beatles song, "Eleanor Rigby":
Father McKenzie,
Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walked from the grave,
No one was saved ...
It was almost as if the Ringbearer(s)' quest failed in _LotR_, and Sauron did reclaim the One Ring, or even as if ... well, never mind, I can't say it.
Doc