Retro Nostalgia: Contact (1997) and Conflating Faith and Science and Its Hopeful Ethos
Anyone with a passing familiarity with Carl Sagan’s popularization of science will recall his profound optimism, both with humanity’s scientific endeavors and its almost desperate need to strive for “more.” I think it’s fair to say that he imagined science as humanity’s great thrust to greatness — to controlling itself and its environment. After all, he famously said that “[imagination] will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere.” And while he was not a religious man, he didn’t fear suggesting that science could provide a spiritual vision of the world: Science is not only compatible with spirituality; it is a profound source of spirituality. When we recognize our place in an immensity of lightâyears and in the passage of ages, when we grasp the intricacy, beauty, and subtlety of life, then that soaring feeling, that sense of elation and humility combined, is surely spiritual. So are our emotions in the presence of great art or music or literature, or acts of exemplary selfless courage such as those of Mohandas Gandhi or Martin Luther King, Jr. The notion that science and spirituality are somehow mutually exclusive does a disservice to both. Sagan’s optimism, understandably, bleeds through the narrative of the film adaptation of Contact (1997) (how could it not?). Ellie’s father, Ted (David Morse), for example, answers his young daughter’s (Jena Malone) question about life in the universe by cleverly playing the “it’s too damned big of a universe” card — he suggests that if there isn’t anyone else out there, then all that space is wasted. Adult Ellie (Jodie Foster) eventually relays these lines to preacher/religious popularist Palmer Joss (Matthew McConaughey), who also repeats them to the world after Ellie’s return from her mission and the media firestorm of the perceived failure of the project (not to mention Ellie’s implication that faith in her story is necessary). What’s fascinating about the film (and, I suspect, the book, which I have not read) is its refusal to shy away from implying that this optimism will ultimately form the basis for a faith argument for science. In the end, it is that unison of religion and science which offers one of Sagan’s most optimistic visions: namely, that science and religion could ever unify in an increasingly hostile political environment. Palmer and Ellie are themselves stand-ins for these respective fields, suggesting that the romantic conclusion of their narrative must be deferred too, lest faith be rested from the audience on all counts. Sagan must have been quite hopeful for the future of science to have imagined a world where the greatest religious “threat” to science is an attractive religious guru who can see the writing on the wall. Hence why the last line in the above quote is so crucial: “The notion that science and spirituality are somehow mutually exclusive does a disservice to both.” Contact is essentially Sagan’s spiritual mind at work, imagining all the possibilities of the science and spiritual realms coming together for the same united purpose: seeking some deeper truth about the universe — science on the natural questions; spirituality on the questions about understanding our place in a suddenly crowded universe. Sadly, if Contact had been written in the late 2000s, Sagan might have seemed naive. Perhaps that’s actually a good thing. When people called for more optimistic SF in 2009-2010 (resulting in Vries’ Shine Anthology), they must have had Contact on the mind, if not in actuality, then in spirit. Contact is a film that strives to find the positive in a world bloated with bureaucracy, religious terrorists, and fear (it is also a largely male world we are presented, with some exceptions). The government wants to control everything, the vain scientists want to use Ellie’s discovery to further their own careers, even at the expense of others, the people at large cower or clamber in supplication before things they do not yet understand, and, finally, the religious extremists, seeing this great moment as a threat to their authority, want to destroy the entire project, even if that means preventing humanity’s next great leap forward. Ellie’s almost desperate need to remain involved, to discover whatever is “on the other side,” to leap into the darkness and bring back answers, holds her up in this storm. She won’t participate in the politics or the glory of discovery; she only wants to discover, to know, to understand. Unlike the people around her, with the exception, perhaps, of Palmer and a handful of minor characters, Ellie has only one desire: to use this momentous occasion to understand humanity’s place in the universe. It’s her optimistic view of the world that I find so pleasant. She truly believes in the mission, not because it will bring her material wealth in the future, but because taking the leap of faith by building and using the machine will actually advance human knowledge. She is the idealized scientist (the film actually offers a foil to this idealized image; he dies — not insignificantly). But whereas Ellie’s journey to discover “the answers” proves successful, the world at large is left in the dark. The aliens, descended from a collective who occasionally reach out to new species as those species reach the next stage in their technological evolution, prevent anything but 17 minutes of static from being recorded during Ellie’s trip. In a final nerve wracking scene, Ellie must defend herself against a verbal onslaught by the government, almost as if in a mirror of McCarthyism. The irony? For a government so encumbered with religious thought, they cannot accept her meek request that everyone has to take what she says on faith (she doesn’t put things in those exact words, but that has to do with her apprehension over faith). It’s not made clear whether the government does take her seriously, or if they see this as an opportunity to attack her and the billionaire financial backer who made the project possible. Regardless, the fusion of science and faith in
A Comic Journey: New Comics, New Reading, and the Happy Shaun
Nothing I’m about to say here will seem cohesive. I’ve become obsessed with comics, if you didn’t already know. Gloriously and deliciously obsessed. You all probably saw it coming, though, particularly after I wrote this post about my first trip to a comic shop in years (and this review I wrote some time back). What follows will be a rough outline of my journey into this new obsession…thus far — by way of what I’ve read. Since my first trip to the comic store, I have read the following comics or hardcover/softcover collections (in print or digital form)(I’ve included quick thoughts under each item): Batman (New 52) Vol. 1: The Court of Owls (Snyder, Capullo, and Glapion) I freaking loved it! So much so that I have officially become a Batman nut, and this despite having almost always been a Marvel guy. Snyder is an amazing writer, in my very humble and ignorant opinion. If you are interested in superhero comics, I definitely recommend The Court of Owls. I’m not sure you could get into it if you weren’t already familiar with Batman as a character, but if you’ve seen the Nolan Batman movies and enjoyed them, then I think you’ll love The Court of Owls. Green Lantern (New 52) Vol. 1: Sinestro (Johns and Mahnke) Honestly, I was not impressed. This collection contains the full narrative arc for the start of the new Green Lantern series, but it moves so quickly that all the character development is shoved to the side. I love action in comics (see some of the stuff that I’ll mention later), but I need something more than thin character conflict amidst lots of fighting and flashy stuff. I don’t know if this is a reflection of the entire set of Green Lantern comics (there are many), but this one didn’t impress me enough to check them out. The Avengers Disassembled (trade paperback)(Bendis and Finch) I bought this because it forms the basis for the huge shifts in The New Avengers series. Unfortunately, so much happens in such a short series that I couldn’t get into it. Essentially, the Scarlet Witch alters all of reality, killing off a lot of characters, turning people against one another, exposing some of her friends’ worst fears, etc. And why does she do this? Because she’s sort of gone insane. The problem? None of this is explored in any depth. We start with action, we continue with action, and we end with action. Maybe there’s more to this that I’m not seeing, as sometimes happens in Marvel (other series might address what occurs here, for example), but considering how good the Avengers vs. X-Men cross-over has been thus far, I don’t really see that as an excuse. Basically, I was not impressed. The New Avengers: Breakout (Vol. 1, trade paperback) (Bendis and Finch) Following the conclusion of The Avengers Disassembled, this first volume in the new-ish series actually improves upon the flaws of its predecessor. But it still does not reach the same level as some of the things I’ll list here that I actually loved. Yes, there is a lot more character development (particularly surrounding Stark and Captain America as they deal with trying to make a new response team in a drastically different world), but I found the initial “OMG, all da mutants got out-a-da jail” plot pretty dull. This stuff happens so often in superhero comics that I honestly can’t figure out why humans and mutants alike haven’t bothered trying to figure out ways to stop jailbreaks from happening. That said, I do think this moves things in the right direction. Uncanny X-Men #1 (Marvel NOW) (Bendis, Bachalo, Townsend, Mendoza, Vey, and Caramagna) First, I do not recommend starting with this particular incarnation of the classic series (what is referred to as Uncanny X-Men Vol. 3). The first issue refers to a number of huge events that occurred in the Avengers vs. X-Men cross-over, which you can find in trade paperback collections. Basically, you need to read that cross-over before you dive in here, unless you don’t care about what happened to some of the classic X-Men characters (deaths, people switched sides, etc. etc. etc.). However, the first issue is really good. For some reason, Bendis does an excellent job creating balance between character and the group-focus of the X-Men (something he didn’t do all that well in the New Avengers stuff). X-Men #1 and #2 (Stan Lee) That’s right, the classic X-Men! And they are bloody terrible. Yes, I know they are representative of the time period and that many of the things I can’t stand about the classic Stan Lee comics existed for a reason, but I definitely prefer reading newer stuff. Nostalgia is nice, but I can only take so many sexist jokes at a time… Marvel Point One: Behold the Watcher (2011) (too many names to list) Everything I have to say about this can be found here. All of the following are part of a narrative sequence — hence the odd order. I gave up trying to list all the names (sorry): The Avengers: Sanction #1 – #4, The Avengers #24.1, Avengers vs. X-Men #0-#1, Wolverine and the X-Men #9, New Avengers #24, Avengers vs. X-Men #2, Avenger #25, AvX: Versus #1, Uncanny X-Men #11, and AvX #3. Honestly, I’m still neck deep into this particular series, and I’m loving every single issue. There’s a lot of action, of course, but one of the things I really like is the attempt to get into the heads of each character as the action ramps up. Basically, most of these issues actually explore the personal conflicts of the characters leading up to the physical conflict. There are a few hiccups here or there, but I think the series is fantastic overall. If you like group-based superhero stuff, I definitely recommend this one, not just because it’s good, but also because it also sets up a lot of the stuff that happens in the Marvel NOW Uncanny X-Men series. I am currently reading the following (w/ brief