"Lost" and Repentance
Over the past several weeks, I have been re-watching the entirety of the television series "Lost". I watched most of this series as it aired, from 2005 to the end in 2010. Here's what can be said about the series: it was a rare serialized sci-fi drama that actually wasn't at all serialized. Each episode, throughout all six seasons, contains a self-contained character struggle surrounding some philosophical problem. There is a parable in each episode, which is revealed to us not through dialogue, but in how the story plays out. It is difficult to pull this kind of writing off, let alone consistently.
The ending of the series was extremely divisive amongst its audience; while many people left satisfied, others felt that the ending was a cop-out, and didn't really provide enough closure to the series.
After viewing the finale, I was in the latter camp. The ending didn't satisfy me. However, it was clear from the writing that the ending didn't provide an intellectual closure to things, but rather an aesthetic one. Think of the ending of Taxi Driver: does Travis Bickle really pick up his former flame and get some validation for what he's done? As Roger Ebert points out, the last scene of the film "completes the story on an emotional, not a literal, level."
So it was with "Lost". I felt I didn't like the ending, but I also recognized that the story had not concluded, and was never meant to conclude, on a literal level. I didn't appreciate the emotional nature of the conclusion. The relevant idiom here might be "pearls before swine".
Over the last few years, since the series ended, I've come to recognize that most of my adult life has been something of a crisis of faith. With this knowledge plainly before me, I can identify with the plights of the characters. The overall storyline, and its conclusion, satisfies me greatly. I don't believe the ending of "Lost" was intended to offer its own interpretation of the truth. Instead, it should draw out the question in the viewer's mind: "What is truth?"
With that said, there was one overarching storyline through the course of the series that I'd like to chat about briefly. Suffice it to say, if you haven't seen the series and want to, stop reading here.
The mythology of "Lost" is contained on a remote island, where it's evident that both good and evil forces are at work. Much of the mystery of the series depends on the ambiguity between who is "good" and who is "bad" in the conflicts that occur. Often the needle gyrates; an action previously believed by the audience to be "evil" actually can be interpreted as "good" when the greater context of the act is later revealed.
One of the key elements in the mythology is the so-called "smoke monster", who we become aware of in the first episode, and who stalks the island killing characters. At first, the deaths are arbitrary: they seem to serve only for the monster to establish its dominance over the characters through fear.
In later seasons, some characters seek out the smoke monster to be "judged" for their past actions. The monster is able to read the minds of anyone, and learn who they are, and everything they remember. In the third season, the monster kills Mr. Eko after he refuses to admit that he has done anything wrong in his life. In the fifth season, Ben goes to the monster to atone for being responsible for the death of his daughter. He genuinely expresses sorrow for what he's done, and ostensibly, he is spared because he repented.
Towards the end of the series, we learn the origins of the smoke monster. Two boys are born on the island, in ancient times, one named Jacob, and other nameless. Jacob ends up becoming the protector of the island; his brother, unable to identify with a life spent serving the island, wants to leave the island and explore the rest of the world. Jacob forbids him to do so, and confines him to the island. Here is the source of the original conflict: Jacob's unnamed brother wants to kill Jacob and destroy the island so he can leave.
Through mystic forces, Jacob's brother is turned into the smoke monster. He is able to take his own human form, and the form of anybody who has died on the island. This explains the characters that appear just before or after the smoke monster: Eko sees his dead brother right before the monster, whose body is on the island. Ben sees his dead daughter right after the monster, and she had died on the island.
So, what appears to be "righteous" judgement from the monster, which spares those who repent and kills those who don't, isn't actually anything righteous at all. Since the monster cannot kill Jacob, and because he needs to kill Jacob in order to get what he wants, he needs to manipulate others into doing it for him.
This leads to one possible explanation for how the monster conducted his judgements. Mr. Eko refused to admit he had done anything wrong in his life; since there was no guilt in Eko, the monster didn't see him as a usable pawn in his game. Ben, however, agonizes over his guilt for killing his daughter; the monster quickly takes the form of his daughter and uses him to ultimately kill Jacob.
I think most of us would agree that a person should work to be aware of their own shortcomings, acknowledge their mistakes, and improve themselves. We see this as a character strength. Ben seemed to be following this course more than Eko, by admitting his mistake freely, so we might conclude that Ben was stronger than Eko.
But the monster did not use Ben's strength against him; it used his guilt. Being aware of your own weaknesses and past mistakes is the start of healthy self-evaluation, but we must bear in mind that carrying feelings of guilt makes us susceptible.
The ending of the series was extremely divisive amongst its audience; while many people left satisfied, others felt that the ending was a cop-out, and didn't really provide enough closure to the series.
After viewing the finale, I was in the latter camp. The ending didn't satisfy me. However, it was clear from the writing that the ending didn't provide an intellectual closure to things, but rather an aesthetic one. Think of the ending of Taxi Driver: does Travis Bickle really pick up his former flame and get some validation for what he's done? As Roger Ebert points out, the last scene of the film "completes the story on an emotional, not a literal, level."
So it was with "Lost". I felt I didn't like the ending, but I also recognized that the story had not concluded, and was never meant to conclude, on a literal level. I didn't appreciate the emotional nature of the conclusion. The relevant idiom here might be "pearls before swine".
Over the last few years, since the series ended, I've come to recognize that most of my adult life has been something of a crisis of faith. With this knowledge plainly before me, I can identify with the plights of the characters. The overall storyline, and its conclusion, satisfies me greatly. I don't believe the ending of "Lost" was intended to offer its own interpretation of the truth. Instead, it should draw out the question in the viewer's mind: "What is truth?"
With that said, there was one overarching storyline through the course of the series that I'd like to chat about briefly. Suffice it to say, if you haven't seen the series and want to, stop reading here.
The mythology of "Lost" is contained on a remote island, where it's evident that both good and evil forces are at work. Much of the mystery of the series depends on the ambiguity between who is "good" and who is "bad" in the conflicts that occur. Often the needle gyrates; an action previously believed by the audience to be "evil" actually can be interpreted as "good" when the greater context of the act is later revealed.
One of the key elements in the mythology is the so-called "smoke monster", who we become aware of in the first episode, and who stalks the island killing characters. At first, the deaths are arbitrary: they seem to serve only for the monster to establish its dominance over the characters through fear.
In later seasons, some characters seek out the smoke monster to be "judged" for their past actions. The monster is able to read the minds of anyone, and learn who they are, and everything they remember. In the third season, the monster kills Mr. Eko after he refuses to admit that he has done anything wrong in his life. In the fifth season, Ben goes to the monster to atone for being responsible for the death of his daughter. He genuinely expresses sorrow for what he's done, and ostensibly, he is spared because he repented.
Towards the end of the series, we learn the origins of the smoke monster. Two boys are born on the island, in ancient times, one named Jacob, and other nameless. Jacob ends up becoming the protector of the island; his brother, unable to identify with a life spent serving the island, wants to leave the island and explore the rest of the world. Jacob forbids him to do so, and confines him to the island. Here is the source of the original conflict: Jacob's unnamed brother wants to kill Jacob and destroy the island so he can leave.
Through mystic forces, Jacob's brother is turned into the smoke monster. He is able to take his own human form, and the form of anybody who has died on the island. This explains the characters that appear just before or after the smoke monster: Eko sees his dead brother right before the monster, whose body is on the island. Ben sees his dead daughter right after the monster, and she had died on the island.
So, what appears to be "righteous" judgement from the monster, which spares those who repent and kills those who don't, isn't actually anything righteous at all. Since the monster cannot kill Jacob, and because he needs to kill Jacob in order to get what he wants, he needs to manipulate others into doing it for him.
This leads to one possible explanation for how the monster conducted his judgements. Mr. Eko refused to admit he had done anything wrong in his life; since there was no guilt in Eko, the monster didn't see him as a usable pawn in his game. Ben, however, agonizes over his guilt for killing his daughter; the monster quickly takes the form of his daughter and uses him to ultimately kill Jacob.
I think most of us would agree that a person should work to be aware of their own shortcomings, acknowledge their mistakes, and improve themselves. We see this as a character strength. Ben seemed to be following this course more than Eko, by admitting his mistake freely, so we might conclude that Ben was stronger than Eko.
But the monster did not use Ben's strength against him; it used his guilt. Being aware of your own weaknesses and past mistakes is the start of healthy self-evaluation, but we must bear in mind that carrying feelings of guilt makes us susceptible.