Dichotomy and Interdependence: An Analysis of "The Matrix"

The release of the Wachowski brother’s film The Matrix in 1999 was a milestone in science fiction cinema and special effects. The film depicts a dystopian future where the reality perceived by humans is actually a simulated reality created by sentient machines in order to subdue humans and utilize their biological energy to power a machine civilization. The plot follows Neo, a messianic character in the film, as he is liberated from the bondage of the machines and attempts to unshackle, or unplug, the remaining members of the human race. Combining elements of cyberpunk, martial arts, and what has come to be known as “bullet time” special effects, The Matrix is both visually stunning and conceptually thought provoking. The film also utilizes imagery and a narrative structure to seemingly illustrate many philosophical and social dichotomies that may be familiar in our current cultural context. I will argue that these dichotomies are in fact complements in the film and are not only symmetrical and interdependent but inform and define each other. I will go through the film in chronological order and use the specific imagery and narrative context to describe and illustrate these complements. I will also discuss how the film is a warning against technology and provide a commentary on the sublime nature of reality.

The film opens with greenish, electrically shimmering film logos and ominous music to immediately convey to the viewer that something will be different in this film compared to others. The viewer is then presented with what seems to be computer code written in an unfamiliar, Asian-like language cascading down the screen, slowly disappearing and morphing into the title of the film. The purpose of these first 40 seconds is to set a tone of disengagement and confusion along with begging the viewer to ask the question, “What is the Matrix?” This is important because one of the themes of the film is the philosophical difficulty of reality. In other words, how does one know with certainty that what they perceive to be real is, in fact, true? The more disengaged and confused the viewer is at this stage of the film, the deeper they will be engaged into the film itself as the story develops. This is the first set of dichotomies established in the film – disengagement versus engagement and confusion versus clarity. These dichotomies serve to bring the viewer along for the ride and also reinforce the notion that belief is important to both character and viewer. In the case of Neo, belief is important in a new “reality” (Matrix) where anything is possible and in the case of the viewer, belief is important in accepting the possibility of such a future. Each dichotomy depends on its analogous parts to drive the intrigue forward, present in both character and viewer.

The next scene follows the character of Trinity, first as a voice discussing Neo and later as she performs some seemingly impossible kung fu and flees the agents on the rooftops. The menacing, corporate clad agents set up another dichotomy with the vinyl clad Trinity both in clothing and morality. The viewer is unsure who she is but it seems clear that she somehow represents good while the agents represent evil. We later learn that this is the case, although it is suggested that the roles were reversed at some point in history when humans unjustly treated the machines in their early stages of self-awareness. Clothing is important throughout the film. The agents in their brown suits, matching ties, and square sunglasses could arguably represent a corporate system of control while the vinyl or leather clothing worn by Morpheus and his crew could represent the bondage of the individual or non-conformist in a corporate state. Again, dichotomies of good versus evil and corporate versus individual are established early in the film before the viewer has comprehension of what is taking place. This scene ends with a phone booth and the disappearance of Trinity, the question of how she disappeared left as yet unanswered.

The next scene introduces the Mr. Anderson/Neo character played by Keanu Reeves by taking the viewer through what appears to be an electronic circuit, greenish patterned energy flowing past. This scene also introduces the dichotomies of waking versus sleep and machine versus human. Neo is first seen asleep with headphones on, a computer search running in the background for Morpheus. The search for Morpheus, named for the Greek god of dreams, is actually Neo’s search for an answer to the question of the Matrix. The answer to the question of the Matrix concerns the nature of reality. The mind relies on the senses to interpret the world by which reality is defined. Without the mind or the senses, neither could truly exist just as dying in the Matrix means death in the real world. This is yet another complementary dichotomy that the film illustrates. The imagery of the computer words on a black screen and not an actual voice waking Neo up speaks to the interdependence Neo has with machines along with the idea that reality can be like a dream state, further supporting the notion that reality may be ambiguous. Descartes’ Meditations on First Philosophy explores and develops methodological doubt along similar lines. This scene will also tie into the computer center of the Nebuchadnezzar in that Mr. Anderson’s room in Matrix looks remarkably like the computer network of Morpheus’ ship. The imagery and quiet narrative of Reeve’s character in this introductory scene are rich with opposites that will reverberate throughout the film – reality versus illusion, waking versus sleep, machine versus human, rationality versus experience - all interdependent and complementary because neither opposite could function or exist without the other.

The notion that “life is but a dream” recurs many times throughout the film along with references to Alice in Wonderland to exacerbate the idea that everything may not be as it seems. References to “follow the white rabbit” and the appearance of the character of Du Jour with a white rabbit tattoo on her shoulder are the most obvious examples of this link to Lewis Carrol. It is interesting that the character of Troy, a somewhat shady figure, reveals the future of Neo by saying, “Hallelujah. You’re my savior, man. My own personal Jesus Christ” and “Don’t worry, you don’t exist.” Finally, Troy says, “It just sounds like you need to unplug.” This is interesting because he seems serious about his use of mescaline, a mind-altering hallucinogen. This could be a commentary about drug use in that by “dropping out”, one may actually be more in touch with what may be actual reality. This notion is certainly supported further by the choice Neo has to make after meeting Morpheus between taking a drug, whether it be a red pill or the blue.
The scene that takes place between Neo meeting Trinity and his introduction to Morpheus further develops many of the dichotomies already established. Trinity confirms that Neo is searching for something other than Morpheus, the work discipline meeting with the boss that looks like an agent, and the attempted escape illustrate the dichotomy between corporate versus individual, reality versus illusion, and the interconnectedness of man and machine. Neo needs computers in the Matrix to find the answer of what the Matrix is, which proves to be part of the machine world. The lecture given to Neo by his boss is remarkably like the message of the what machine world is attempting to achieve with humans, which further adds to the notion of interconnectedness between the parts and the whole of both the machine world and the corporate world. The attempted escape from the agents not only sets up the inevitability that agent Smith refers to in his fight with Neo later in the film but also another dichotomy between ordinary and extraordinary. The humans that are plugged in need the comfort of the ordinary environment produced by the simulated reality of the Matrix, which is, in fact, an environment where the extraordinary feats may be achieved. The journey Neo takes is from the commonplace world that the Matrix provides, into the real world of Morpheus and Zion, and finally back into the commonplace world of the Matrix, is a journey that allows for his transformation into savior. Once again we see interdependence and complementary dichotomies that help define and inform each other woven throughout The Matrix.

The scene from Neo’s interrogation by the three agents to his birth out of the Matrix further develops the ambiguous nature of reality, Neo’s relationship with Agent Smith, and the dual nature of Neo himself. The viewer is once again transported through an electronic device, which seems to give the illusion of coming though a television monitor. This could be a commentary on the dual nature of television and media in general along with establishing yet another dichotomy. As much as we view television and are informed by it, maybe in a way, television views and is informed by us. The imagery of the “bug” transforming into a fleshy creature, disappearing through Mr. Anderson’s navel followed by Neo waking to Morpheus’s phone call further plays with the notions of disengagement, confusion, and reality both for the viewer and in a diegetic way. Agent Smith’s character is developed more in this scene as well, with many negative “human-like” qualities starting to surface such as pride and sadism in Neo’s disturbing loss of his mouth and subsequent invasion by the “bug”. It is interesting that Neo’s character is many times affectively flat, much like Agent Smith. This is not a coincidence as each character helps to define each other. They are in fact symmetrical and complementary just as good and evil or Jesus and the anti-Christ are symmetrical and complementary. Each is, in a way, without purpose and meaning without each other. We also see that Neo is a dichotomy within himself, living two separate lives with almost two different personalities. His choice of taking the red pill after he finally meets Morpheus does not erase the plugged in side of this dichotomy and indeed sets him up for failure before he succeeds by eventually saving Morpheus. The imagery of the mirror becoming unbroken for Neo, covering him, and eventually overwhelming him supports the notion that the two sides will become one in his future. It is only through finding the interdependence between the two-sides of his nature that he is able to master the Matrix. Besides entertaining and challenging the viewer, maybe this is the ultimate message of The Matrix – we all have two sides in our nature and knowledge of this fact and balance between these forces is what we should strive to achieve.

The scenes from Neo’s birth from the Matrix into the “desert of the real” through his visit with the Oracle to Morpheus’ rescue by Neo work together to develop the interdependence that the Matrix and the “real world” have on each other as well as the relationship between knowledge and belief. The imagery and music as Neo “awakens” from the Matrix in a reddish pod overlooking humanity/power generator towers is probably one of the most memorable in all of science fiction film. It is here that the diegetic reality world is revealed to Neo and the narrative reality to the viewer. The power of the mind over the body is clear as Neo is rehabilitated from an atrophied state into a functional member of this new reality. The interesting part of his rehabilitation, however, is that it requires plugging him into a computer construct for training and education. It is also in the construct that Neo learns of nature of the Matrix, which initially is overwhelming to the point of a psychosomatic break. The machines become the tools and life support systems in a new way or maybe just in a different way.

The harshness of the real world aboard the Nebuchadnezzar is also evident by the imagery of ragged clothes, worn out technology, and less than desirable food. In many ways and what will become Cipher’s argument, the Matrix may make for a better life than the real. The epistemic difficulty of certainty and knowledge is fully revealed in these scenes. How do we know with certainty what we know and how can we trust our eyes and other senses to support our sense of truth and actuality? Other questions that are begged are what makes for a good life or what is an acceptable price to pay for freedom? Cipher’s meeting with Agent Smith in the restaurant illustrate that freedom itself may be an illusion and defining a good life may have universal attributes. The classic kung fu scene between Neo and Morpheus also begin to reveal that maybe belief, not knowledge, is more important in both worlds because knowledge itself may be untrustworthy. The cryptic message from the Oracle to Neo allows him the power or freedom to believe in something not as big as saving the world, but in the saving of one man (Morpheus). Trinity and Morpheus’ belief in Neo is both challenged and confirmed while their knowledge is also tenuous. Ultimately, Neo finally believes that, “There is no spoon.” in the lobby gun and kung fu sequence to rescue Morpheus and Trinity later from the helicopter. Through belief, the student becomes the master, another interdependent dichotomy illustrated in the film. Lastly, these scenes begin to develop the dichotomy between fate and choice and its relationship between illusion and reality. As Morpheus says, “There is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path”. This makes the viewer question that notion that if a prophecy can come true, was there ever any choice along the way. The dichotomies in these scenes allow for Neo to become the power that that was prophesized by the Oracle, but challenge both his character and the viewer to wonder if he is simply a tool in a larger scheme, out of his control.
The scenes from Neo’s fight with Agent Smith to the end of the film bring the dichotomies I have discussed so far through imagery and narrative structure to illustrate the complementary and symmetrical nature of interdependent opposites. Neo’s disengagement, confusion, and struggle with the Mr. Anderson side of himself are somewhat maintained in his character but these qualities are brought together with their opposites, which allow him to reach his potential, stop the bullets, and bring about Agent Smith’s demise. Jumping into Agent Smith is symbolic in that there is a part of both characters that is fighting for control and freedom. It also begs the question of how much of Smith is now inside of Neo. If Neo is the ultimate human in the film and Agent Smith is the ultimate machine representation, then by the dichotomous structure that the film takes, both need each other as much they are in conflict. Neo and Agent Smith are visually and narratively the largest representation of Yin and Yang in the film - corporate versus individual, good versus evil, and machine versus human all come together through their interaction. This part of the story will be brought to the forefront more in the second and third Matrix films.

The other dichotomy that is developed in a significant way in these last scenes is between Neo and Trinity. This part of the film develops the love story between them and demonstrates its power over the two characters. Indeed, it was Trinity’s words and kiss, just as in a fairy tale, that was essential to Neo’s resurrection after Agent Smith killed him. This is where the message of hope is revealed – love may sometimes conquer all. Both Neo and Trinity are strong in complementary ways. Both are essential to the plot and storyline in complementary ways. Both find and rescue each other in complementary ways. Both need each other in symmetrical and complementary ways. The notion of male and female, whether that is in physical form or of character, make for the last dichotomy in the film, and not by chance. We cannot venture through this world alone because it can be ambiguous and filled with self-doubt. It is only through the connections we make with other that allows us the hope and ability to make it through each day. This is especially true with those that we consider to be our opposite, our match, or our soul mate because we give as much as we receive in an ultimate state of interdependence. The Matrix presents us with a dystopian future, but it ends on a message of hope, both in the context of the love of one and within the context of society as a whole. Maybe one day all of us, like Neo, we will strike that balance between our own inner dichotomies so that we may also fly.

The relationship that humans hold with machines could arguably be considered fragile. The bone that allowed our ancestors the ability to fend off starvation by killing animals for their meat also held the power for murder of other humans, as Stanley Kubrick illustrated in 2001: A Space Odyssey. The more advanced the tool, the greater potential for its misuse. Computers speed up processes that would be nearly impossible for any one mind alone, but its development also paved the way for new kinds of theft and depravity. Dynamite was invented for use in mining, but history clearly shows how much pain and suffering has come with its development through munitions and bombs. Along with that potential for misuse, the development of technology has increased our dependence on it. We have lost much of the body hair that our ancestors possessed because clothing and other forms of technology no longer made that trait a necessity. How long could we survive without the technology of shelter and electricity? Many of us would survive but it unquestionable that many would perish as a result. It is important to keep in mind, however, that our evolution into sentient creatures may not have been possible without our use of technology. John Harris, author of Enhancing Evolution, argues that human evolution stopped around the mid 1800’s. Technology took enough environmental pressure off of us as a species so that natural selection could no longer act. Instead, he argues that deliberative selection replaced the natural in setting the course for a human future. Therefore, if it is true that we are dependent on technology and have an evolutionary relationship with it (even though it may be misused), it follows that the misuse of technology holds with it the potential to harm us or lead us into our own de-evolution. Technology, like the machines in The Matrix, holds within it dichotomies then for good and evil along with happiness and despair.

The Matrix is, in a way, a commentary on the dichotomy of technology. As much as we depend on technology, the development of technology is dependent on us. Should we ever achieve sentience in the machines that we create, the interdependence between the two would change the way we define responsibility and look at ourselves. In the film, the humans in the “real world” suffer many creature comforts that many would call necessities, but they could not survive without the machines such as the Nebuchadnezzar that serve them. The machine world need humans for power and could not survive without us. We need them as much as they need us. Maybe the conflict between man and machine reached the level that it did because the humans of the future unwittingly built their psyches into the machines and ended up seeing themselves like the repetitive images of mirrors within The Matrix. Many times, we fight as much with our psyches as we do with each other so the future people in the film ended up doing what humans do best – fighting with each other. If we endow a machine with all of the qualities we characterize as human, would we not be fighting ourselves because we have put us into them? What else should we expect of a sentient technology that we make in our image? The message and warning of The Matrix is that technology will no doubt continue to be part of our shared future, but hubris and not remembering that technology has a dark side may become our undoing. Remember that the person that goes higher up a ladder will be able see farther than those below, but the higher one goes up, the harder and more lethal the fall.

To conclude, I will briefly discuss the sublime nature of reality surrounding the story of The Matrix. The epistemological difficulty of reality has been debated since the birth of philosophy. Rene Descartes took the argument to extremes to ultimately argue for the existence of God and provide a method for practicing science. He brought the idea down to one certainty with the cogito, ergo sum (I think, therefore I am). The idea of confusing reality due to being plugged into a machine or in a dream state is not original then to the Wachowski brothers. It is interesting that the development of technology allowed the concept of an ambiguous reality to be conveyed in such a sublime way. In other words, without powerful computers and other technology to generate expansive special effects, The Matrix could not be made, which would not provide us the warning against technology. The image of Neo overlooking the towers of humans dreaming away existence is simultaneously beautiful, terrible, and beyond comprehension – the very epitome of the sublime. Agent Smith also commented on the nature of the Matrix as he is torturing Morpheus, the view from the top offices overlooking the expanse of the Matrix to the artificial horizon. As much as the Matrix represents slavery, it is from a sensory point of view, indistinguishable for anyone except Neo. But what if it was true? What if you, the reader of this paper, did not exist in the way that you think you do? That would be sublime as well because there is just as much beauty, terror, and that which is beyond comprehension in this reality as any other imagined reality so even if you did not live in the desert of the real, I argue that it would not matter. Trinity says to Neo on their way to see the Oracle that the Matrix cannot tell you who you are. Meaning, purpose, and perspective ultimately lie within each of us, regardless of reality. The truth of what our senses tell us is not important in the grand scheme of things. Reality or more precisely the idea of reality provides us the challenges to find the balance within and what we do with the cards we are dealt. All of these ideas may have philosophical implications in regards to truth but at the end of the day, we must function within the world that we live. Maybe then truth, like reality, is also sublime.

Evolution, Technology, and the Sublime: An Analysis of Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey"

Stanley Kubrick’s release of 2001: A Space Odyssey in the spring of 1968 marked a pivotal moment in filmmaking history. Whether referring to the stark realism of space travel in contrast to such films as Destination Moon (1950) or the deafening quiet and lack of dialogue reminiscent of the silent film era, 2001 was and remains to this day unique. Many argue, including co-screenwriter Arthur C. Clarke, that the story is an expansive 4 million year history of human evolution through intelligent, alien means. I will argue that through Kubrick’s use of music and imagery of the sublime, the film is indeed about human evolution, but more precisely, it concerns the evolution of the human relationship with technology. I will show how the film's depiction of technology makes a commentary that it is not simply a tool of human masters to achieve ends otherwise impossible to our physical selves, but that it actually informs and defines identity and the human condition. As such, human evolution and the human condition are dependent upon technology and the ensuing culture that technology allows, blurring the distinction between master and servant. I will describe the visual and musical aspects of the sublime from the pre-film overture through “Jupiter Mission: 18 Months Later” as support. Lastly, I will briefly discuss a possible implication and future of the human relationship with technology.

Kubrick begins to set the tone of 2001 before the MGM logo even appears by playing a three-minute musical overture of Ligeti’s “Atmospheres” against a blank screen. The eerie quality of the music puts the audience in an expectant mood, which, after the brief appearance of the movie logo and before the opening credits, is delivered by a stunning image of the sunrise over the planet Earth. The imagery immediately places the viewer and that of mankind within an intended perspective – humans as a small, almost insignificant entity in an immense, awe-inspiring universe. Richard Strauss’ grand “Also Sprach Zarathustra” is playing forcefully, further adding to the mood and affect of the sublime. The planetary alignment is representative of the sublime in its grandeur, beauty, and vastness but more importantly, it speaks to the meaning of this celestial configuration in human history. The religious importance of lunar and solar eclipses throughout the history of civilization is undeniable. The black screen of the overture coupled with the sunrise over Earth scene could be interpreted to be symbolic of the religious in that many creation stories start with absence of light and nothingness to a sudden birth of light and form. The creation of the ape-man in “The Dawn of Man” is left open to speculation but this opening sequence sets the stage for the birth of man within the universe, not just within a localized region of our planet.

“The Dawn of Man” opens with wide still-shots of what appears to be the African savannah. It is desolate, vast, and immensely quiet except for the sounds of crickets and wind. This imagery, lack of music, and minimal sounds are used by Kubrick to convey the state from which our ancestors lived – sublimely beautiful and terrible. It is clear from the first images of the ape-men that their nature is different from conventional thought of innate human aggressiveness. They are weak, non-threatening, and starving to death. They forage for plants in the dust alongside obviously plump tapirs and are preyed upon by a leopard from a position above the framing of the shot. The viewer sees sun-bleached humanoid bones strewn about also as an indication that even the basics of what we would deem civilization has not yet been established. The point of this prelude to the monolith is that the ape-men are on the brink of extinction and they do not have the intelligence or means to do anything about it. This is exacerbated by the nighttime scene of fright that seems to be evident on the strained faces of all of the ape-men.

Dawn, however, brings something different to both the ape-men and the audience. It begins with light upon their sleeping faces, the waking of one of their number, and the rising music of Ligeti’s “Requiem”. Before we see the monolith, Kubrick creates another expectant mood of the sublime or, arguably, the religious. When the audience finally sees the monolith, it is with the same curiosity and wonder as the ape-men exhibit, and this is deliberate. The monolith is itself an image of the sublime in its perfection and mystery. It further conveys the notion of the sublime and, again arguably, the “birth” of man when the alignment of the Sun and Moon rise over the rectangular form. Whether divine or alien, the monolith seems to give our ancestors the push they need to survive through the discovery of tools. Primitive in rock and bone, our evolution to sentience is dependent on what will later become technology. The ape-men no longer starve replacing the leopard on the top perch of the food chain. What is troublesome and poignant, however, is the immediate association with appears to be the first murder at the waterhole. A double-edged sword perhaps, but certainly an essential dependence on technology and factor in the evolution if our species has been born.

The image of a bone thrown into the air transposed into a satellite, a leap of 4 million years into the future, is at once memorable and purposeful signifying that maybe mankind has become more sophisticated with the use of tools but not with issues related to what is necessary to take another leap in evolution. Johann Strauss’ “Blue Danube” further conveys the idea of sophistication and evolution as well as once again setting a sublime mood associated with the beauty and vastness of space. It is beyond the scope of this essay to explore possible interpretations of Kubrick’s vision of what our next step in our evolution might look like in “Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite”, but I argue it must involve elimination or, at very least, a minimization of the double-edge nature or dark side of the interdependent relationship we hold with technology. In “TMA-1”, the double-edge nature of technology is evident in the fragility and dependence of not only the physical human self throughout Heywood Floyd’s journey to the Moon, but with the interaction with the Soviet scientists and deception imposed by the discovery of the second monolith as well. It is double-edged or a dark side because, just as our ape-men ancestors, we still rely on technology for life yet use it not to unify but to divide. Most notions of an evolutionary next step involve a move to a more ideal, peaceful, and unified humanity. It is possible that this step will only be achieved by a true mastery of technology coupled with a lack of dependence, which I will further explore next.

In “TMA 1”, we start to see a similarity between man and machine. First, the clothing and emotion are sterile just as the space technology of 4 million years of evolution is sterile. Secondly, there is a mundane quality to the action (or lack thereof) of the characters including Heywood Floyd and the flight personnel. The technology may not be mundane, even by today’s standards, but the acceptance of the technology seems to be associated with quiet boredom or the mundane. From eating liquid food from an enclosed tray to using a gravity-free toilet, the dependence on technology does not seem to be on a conscious level of awareness. When the shuttle lands on the Moon and is lowered into the docking bay, the shuttle itself looks like a human head. Further the bay itself is lit with red light, which gives the impression of womb, more symbolism Kubrick uses to bring together the idea of human evolution and technology. The act ends with the approach of Heywood Floyd and company to the second monolith. Again, there is the same reverence, curiosity, and awesome potential meaning associated with Kubrick’s filming of this scene in a similar way as the ape-men scene with the first monolith. Ligeti’s “Requiem” is again playing communicate both the similarity to our ancestors and the sublime nature of the spatio-temporal moment in history. As before, the imagery of the Earth, Moon, and Sun is highlighted with the monolith, which is abruptly disrupted by the radio interference generated presumably from within.

The acceptance of and dependence on technology sets the stage for next act, “Jupiter Mission: 18 Months Later”. Again, boredom and the mundane seem to be what Kubrick is trying to convey about the reality of space flight. The carousel and the introduction of HAL are a constant reminder for the audience of the dependence Bowman and Poole, indeed humanity, have with technology. The cryogenic chambers with seemingly dead bodies within bring this notion clearly into focus. The similarity between man and machine is also developed further through the seemingly robotic apathy of Bowman and Poole along with certain characteristics of HAL. He suffers from hubris and seemingly human emotion but it is interesting that his speech is maintained at a monotone level from the beginning of the scene through his destruction. It is the emphasis of similarity between man and technology that highlights the interdependence of the two. The tool cannot be without man while man cannot be without the tool. Mankind still wins out in this scene because Bowman is able to achieve what HAL could not - murder. It is also seems clear that since HAL is one of the first of his kind that this might not always be the case unless the construct is changed concerning the interaction and relationship between mankind and technology.

The construct Kubrick portrays through imagery and music of the Jupiter Mission along with the relationship between HAL and the crew of Discovery is at the heart of my thesis – the story of human evolution is inextricably linked with the evolution of technology. Further, technology informs us and defines certain aspects of identity through what is culturally possible with technology. In the case of 2001, the similarity between man and machine are almost necessary for the rigors of space travel. At the same time, it is doubtful that the encompassing technology of HAL and Discovery do not shape the identity of Bowman and Poole. The simulacra that HAL represents, is not only evidence of how far evolution has taken us but what we may become. The more we advance technologically, the more risk we take in changing the human condition that is itself shaped by the technology we create through the our advancement. This is not so hard to believe when we look at cell-phone technology and how it has transformed how we communicate and how we relate to each other. What is even more startling is the relatively short time these cultural changes have taken place. Text messaging has streamlined the number of words necessary to relay a message to someone we may never actually physically have contact with. How is this so different from the design of the cell-phone technology we created to allow us to do that in the first place? We have shaped the technology as much as technology has shaped us.

2001: A Space Odyssey, is both a sublimely beautiful and cautionary at the same time. Like the relationship humans have with technology, the tale carries with it throughout the film the thread of interdependence, danger, and identity in exploring one possible explanation for our evolution. The monolith with its coldly perfect form may be part of our past as well as our future in ways that Kubrick never intended. In other words, maybe technology gave birth to us so we could give birth to more technology, but maybe we are the monolith and our destiny is to merge with technology, to become cold and perfect. If we continually strive to advance and perfect technology and technology shapes who we are in relation to the universe, it is logical and inevitable that humans are headed down the same path to advancement and perfection. The question then is: will we reach that destination or, like the creation of HAL, will we create our own demise? One thing is for certain, our relationship with technology will remain tenuous until we can master ourselves and maybe that was the real message that Kubrick was trying to convey. Only with this mastery of ourselves can we shape advancing technology that will in turn shape an ultimate destination, not a demise.

Borges' "The Aleph"

The first narrative theme of Jose Luis Borges’ The Aleph (1949) concerns the protagonist’s grief over his unrequited love and death of Beatriz Viterbo. The fact that Borges’ fictionalizes the protagonist as “Borges” speaks to the multi-layered complexity of the story that is indicative of his writing style. Also indicative of his style is the prima facie unrelatedness of themes or stories within a story. For example, within the story of unrequited love and death in The Aleph, Borges develops the story of writers and their aesthetic differences along with the later story of the aleph itself, an object in space that contains all other points in space that allows simultaneous viewing of everything within. Seemingly distinct, the three stories are connected in a meaningful way. In the following, I will briefly analyze each of the three themes or stories within The Aleph. I will then show how each theme relates to, parallels, and informs the other. Lastly, I will argue that the three themes share problems of perception and show that Borges’ is claiming that true knowledge of the sublime, like death and art, is unreachable.

The story of unrequited love and the death of Beatriz begins with a commentary on the fleeting nature of memory and ends with a horrific vision in the aleph of Beatriz’s physical decay. Borges says, “… the vast, unceasing universe was already growing away from her and … the universe may change but I shall not, thought I with melancholy vanity.” This refers to Borges’ sad attempt to hold Beatriz as near in memory as he thought she was in life. It is sad because of the lengths he goes to keep the memory of her intact viz. befriending Daneri, a writer he despises, simply to have access to the house where Beatriz lived. It is the memory of Beatriz that drives the false relationship and humiliation of Daneri until the end. This is a metaphor for the false relationship and humiliation Borges’ feels over the memory of his lost love that he cannot relinquish. It is not until Borges sees Beatriz in the aleph that he lets go of her. It is not a coincidence that it is at the same time Daneri loses his house and the aleph. It is also not a coincidence that not letting go of Beatriz, Daneri losing the aleph, and the aleph itself are too much to endure or too far to reach without the loss of something else – identity. I will show that identity is also a thread that ties the three stories or themes together.

The story of writers and their aesthetic differences points to subjective nature of art. What is beheld in Daneri’s eyes as, “A stanza interesting from every point of view” , Borges beholds as, “…the poet’s work had not lain in the poetry, but in the invention of reasons for accounting the poetry admirable.” The striking difference between the two interpretations is what is important to note because it begs the question of which one of them is prideful or delusional or if it is an all-together different question of what art is in the first place. Borges paints the picture that Daneri is pompous and unskilled so when it is revealed that Daneri takes second place in the National Prize in literature, it speaks more to the subjective or inaccessible nature of art. The reader is somewhat confused because Borges is somewhat the hero in the story. Borges discusses Daneri’s award, however, with detached resignation. It is confusion and detached resignation that links the emotional state of the writer’s story with that of the story of unrequited love and death. Loss is confusing and acceptance of a loved one’s death is that of detached resignation. The aleph is also confusing and Borges’ response is detached when he lets it go because the aleph, like art and death, is overwhelming and a reminder of our lack of significance. To protect one’s identity against insignificance, one must keep the unreachable at a distance and resign, unconsciously or not, to this fact.

The story of the aleph, although more visual and fantastic, is easier to understand than the other two stories if one accepts the idea that it is actually a metaphor for the sublime. The words Borges uses such as “…dizzying spectacles … infinite … spider-web … labyrinth … secret, hypothetical object …” clearly points to classic definitions of the sublime. It is this object “… whose name has been usurped by men but which no man has ever truly looked: the inconceivable universe.” that conceptually links the three stories together. Those same words could arguably be used to describe death or art as it can be for the sublime. The distinction between the story of the aleph and the other two is the representative necessity of the aleph but then, that is the point. We cannot truly know death. We cannot truly know art. We cannot truly know the sublime. It is only through representations that can we conceptualize the unconceptualizable. This is why, according to Borges, the three concepts and the three stories are unreachable and always will be regardless of how much we may fool ourselves that it is within our reach.

The unconceptualizable nature of death, art, and the sublime is due to the limitations of human perception. In other words, the three stories and themes of Borges’ The Aleph share epistemological problems that our senses cannot resolve. We can approximate but never truly ascertain the nature of death, which is why we grieve so much and many times hang onto the memory of love lost. We may approximate but never truly ascertain the qualitative nature of art even though many argue it is firmly within the realm of the subjective. We may approximate the nature of the sublime but we are resigned to simply represent it through language and thought that may never be significant enough to truly understand. Borges’ protagonist is, in a way, sad and pathetic in his relationship with Beatriz and Daneri. His loss in the National Literature contest points to his failure in his art as well and that is the point. The character of Borges is us and we cannot presume, without risk of hubris, that we can achieve true knowledge of the sublime, art, death or we would be just as sad, just as pathetic but this is not a gloomy prospect. There is beauty in his vision of Beatriz as there is in his interpretation of art. There is beauty in the aleph as well but not knowledge and that is the thread between the stories that ties all the other threads together. We can appreciate beauty and the inconceivable without true knowledge of why it is beautiful.

Chris Marker's La Jetee´

This is the first of many posts related to my Comparative Literature class, The Sublime & The Sci-Fi Film. There is a difference in watching a film in an analytic mode versus sprawled out on the couch with a bag of Cheetos. I have already noticed that I am looking with a more critical and appreciative eye. If you love film, I would recommend taking a similar film class, which emphasizes the visual image as much as the narrative. The following and future posts on this subject will be more stream-of-consciousness so I apologize if it is hard to follow.

La Jetee´ (1963) directed by Chris Marker is the first film we viewed. It is only 27 minutes long but is dense with powerful images so it did not feel like a short film. It is interesting that one theme of the film concerns time and the unique style plays with the viewer’s perception of time. The film was shot in black and white and is not a motion picture per se but rather like looking a series of photographs. Instead of 20 or 30 frames per second, it is closer to one frame every 10-20 seconds. It was odd at first but it become less noticeable as the story unfolded. The film opens with an overhead shot of a Paris airport (Orly to be precise) frozen in time but with the scream of jet engines in the background. Oh, I’m pretty sure La Jetee´ means “jet” but I also think it is a play on the term “jetty”, which refers to a structure extended in to the sea. This is relevant to the paradoxical nature of time travel the film touches upon. The sounds transition from the screaming of jets to beautiful opera/choir music, which makes the disconnect between sight and sound even more distinct. The narrative (in French, English subtitles) tells the story of little boy on the observation deck of the airport who has the image of a woman frozen in his memory just as the images of the film are frozen to the viewer. It is interesting that the narrative mentions that it is a Sunday. Maybe a commentary on the religiosity of technology? At the same time the image is frozen in the boys memory, a man dies nearby … the viewer does not know how or why. The narrative then says that WWIII starts shortly after that. The frozen images show Paris before and after nuclear devastation. It mentions that there are victors and prisoners but also that all are driven underground due to radiation. Victory without salvation. Victory but life like a rat.

The narrative speaks of experiments that drive the subjects to madness or death. The boy on the observation deck is now a man, the next subject of mysterious tests. It is subtly implied that the victors are German and whispers in German are heard softly in the background. Feel of Nazi camps and human experimentation. There is even a camp director. The man expects Dr. Frankenstein or a mad scientist but finds a “reasonable man” who explains that the human race is doomed, that space is out of the question, and the only hope is through time. Past and future must come to the aid of the present if they are to survive. Living in the moment theme throughout? What’s up the glasses with multiple-lenses? Questioning of memory? Technology destroyed but the technology will save them? The experiments do not seem to be of a mechanical nature but rather of mental/pharmacological nature. Shots and masks over the eyes that make me think if insane asylums. The first time he “goes under” or “travels back” he comes upon a past in a park with children. The narrative repeats the word “real” many times. Real park, real children, etc. Traveling through time to a timeless world. Am I dreaming or sleeping? If mental, then definitely some Cartesian dualism going on here. Mind body problem. Living in the moment.

This is the end of Part I. I’ll add the rest as a comment later. Now I’m off to read Plato.

Best wishes,
Roger