CS Lewis' The Great Divorce: The Relationship Between Heaven and Hell

In his book, The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis explores the relationship between heaven and hell, connecting life before death to what comes after. Lewis employs a sort of fantasy-style approach to theology in the book, avoiding more conventional, straight-forward approaches seen in the vast majority of theological works. In this post, I will explain and detail The Great Divorce’s treatment of Heaven, Hell, and their impact on determining the totality of experience. From this groundwork, I will evaluate the views presented, concluding that while unorthodox in methodology, The Great Divorce offers readers a fresh and useful perspective on Heaven and Hell, while appealing to many Christians’ deep hope of an inclusive Heaven.

1. The Nature of Lewis’ Project

 Before jumping into the theological content of The Great Divorce, it is important to first examine Lewis’ stated approach to his methodology and aims as found in the preface. At the end of the preface, Lewis clearly gives readers context for their reading experience (pp. x):

I beg readers to remember that this is a fantasy. It has of course – or I intend it to have – a moral. But the transmortal conditions are solely an imaginative supposal: they are not even a guess or a speculation at what may actually await us. The last thing I wish is to arouse factual curiosity about the details of the after-world.

Lewis is not aiming at a literal description of heaven and the afterlife, but rather giving readers a fantastical setting to enrich the moral and theological threads he weaves through the book. Readers then should not waste their time engaging with the minute and descriptive details of Heaven and Hell as places (whether physical or ethereal), but rather engage with the sort of described character that governs each location respectively. With this clarification in mind, readers are prepared to enter the rich fantasy setting Lewis has created.

2. The Relationship between Life on Earth, Heaven, and Hell

2.1 Hell

Before we can say much about the relationship between life on earth, heaven, and hell, I think it is important for us to get a good picture of the character of these locations (for lack of a better word to describe them) as Lewis displays them. Looking at Hell, as the narrator sees it in his brief time there, one sees a very bleak, depressing setting. In some ways though, this picture given is quite different than many Christians’ usual conceptions of hell. Rather than a dramatic, extreme setting of fire and terror, readers are given a setting that more closely mirrors abandoned, downtown regions of cities that are commonly seen today. While the narrator’s experience of Hell is rather short, readers are given a fuller description through his interactions with other individuals on the departing bus he boards.

Individuals departing Hell seem to all share in a dissatisfaction, prompting their departures. One man seeks intellectual fulfillment, another seeks recognition and appreciation, while yet another seeks to bring something real – “that you could really bite or drink or sit on” (pp. 13). The list goes on, but what can be seen here is the sort of deficient character that defines what Hell is for Lewis. In particular, the man noting the absence of “real” things in Hell, although seeing the problem from a business perspective, sums up what all of the characters bear witness to: Hell doesn’t immediately strike one as a terrible place, but when glimpses of the real (Heaven) are had, Hell’s deficiencies immediately makes themselves known. Hell is deficient, lacking the qualities that make individuals truly human. Hell accommodates a complacent contentedness (in the absolute weakest sense of the word), stripping individuals of the goodness God has created them with.

Moving forward with these ideas, we should also examine another thing the man (who wants to bring something “real” back to Hell) says: “The trouble is they (the people of Hell) have no Needs” (pp. 13). People in hell can get what they want by simply imaging it; however, the sort of things they get model the deficiency of Hell due to the lack of quality they exhibit. Here it seems Lewis is touching on a very interesting aspect of the relationship between Hell and humanity. Humanity, as created good by God, is dependent on him. This dependence is a positive aspect of humanity as it helps us to be in proper relationship with God. However in Hell, which Lewis has already described as having a sort of dehumanizing effect on individuals, individuals are separated from God, and thus can’t have a proper dependent relationship with him. This is an almost paradoxical problem for readers to think about however, as most individuals take dependence to be a sort of reduction of independence. If Hell’s character makes things deficient, then how should one think about something most individuals already consider a deficiency? Lewis seems to answer this question by turning dependence back towards independence. However, this resulting independence is certainly not really a true independence in that individuals aren’t free. Rather, individuals are helplessly dependent on themselves, having chosen to rely on themselves but unable to provide for themselves. So, while individuals have no needs in the sense that they can get what they think they want by imagining it, they are unable to get what they really desire and need due to the nature of their twisted independent dependence.

This idea of a chosen independent dependence shows itself later on in the book when MacDonald comments on the narrator’s description of Hell as a state of mind (pp. 70):

Hell is a state of mind - ye never said a truer word. And every state of mind, left to itself, every shutting up of the creature within the dungeon of its own mind-is, in the end, Hell.

One can see the rejection of God in favor of embracing a reduced version of oneself as characterizing Hell. This self-absorbed state of mind contributes to and, in a sense, is Hell. With Lewis’ description of Hell developed (although certainly not exhaustively), it is time to turn and look at the character of Heaven.

2.2 Heaven

The light and coolness that drenched me were like those of summer morning, early morning a minute or to before the sunrise, only that there was a certain difference. I had the sense of being in a larger space, perhaps even a larger sort of space, than I had ever known before: as if the sky were further off and the extent of the green plain wider than they could be on this little ball of earth. I had got “out” in some sense which made the Solar System itself seem an indoor affair. It gave me a feeling of freedom, but also of exposure, possibly of danger, which continued to accompany me through all that followed. It is the inducing you to remember it as I proceeded, which makes me despair of conveying the real quality of what I saw and heard. (pp. 19)

The above is the narrator’s initial description of witnessing Heaven. Already, one can see a sharp and profound distinction from the prior description of Hell. Whereas Hell seemed dark, suffocating, and deficient, Heaven in contrast seems bright, open, and real in a sense that we can’t even fully comprehend in our present state. While this welcome contrast likely won’t seem too out of place for most readers, Heaven doesn’t seem to fully fit into the conception that many individuals have of it. This idea is witnessed in many of the encounters between the not-fully real ghosts (individuals coming from Hell/Purgatory[these are distinguished in section 2.3]) and the fully real spirits (citizens of Heaven).

In these ghost-spirit interactions readers witness individuals hung up on various aspects of themselves, preventing them from entering into heaven. For one man it is his sense of moral superiority over a murder (pp. 28), for another it is his obsession with abstract intellect as an end in itself (pp.40), and for yet another man it is his unwillingness to trust in God coupled with his expectations of God handing him everything on a silver platter (figuratively speaking) (pp. 54-55). The point being driven at in these ghost-spirit interactions is that individuals need to let go of their self-made identities and images if they are to enter into heaven. As one spirit says, "Friend, could you, only for a moment, fix your mind on something not yourself?" (pp. 62).

This self-obsessed state of mind, as previously touched on as leading to Hell, needs to be eliminated through the choice of an individual. This choice between self and God is what Lewis sees as ultimately determining the residency of individuals in either Heaven or Hell. MacDonald addresses this issue in response to the narrator’s concern that not everyone gets a fair chance at Heaven (pp. 75):

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, in the end, 'Thy will be done.' All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened.

Individuals need to allow their own selves to die so that they can become fully real in and through God. It is through having an identity completely in God that individuals can move forward into their final and full purpose. This fulfillment in choosing God over oneself is witnessed in a female spirit’s interaction with her former friend/partner, Frank (pp. 126):

What needs could I have," she said, "now that I have all? I am full now, not empty. I am in Love Himself, not lonely. Strong, not weak. You shall be the same. Come and see. We shall have no need for one another now: we can begin to love truly."

Lewis has outlined the reverse trajectory of the sort of twisted independent dependence found in Hell. Rather than the deficiency of choosing to depend on oneself, citizens of Heaven have complete fulfillment by freely choosing to fully submit to and depend on God, realizing their true potential in him. Heaven is thus characterized by a sort of hyper-realness (a true realness not possible on earth) which is only made possible by fully embracing and choosing God.

2.3 Heaven and Hell as Determining the Totality of Experience

Before evaluating Lewis’ conception of Heaven and Hell, there is a bit more to their relationship that should be touched upon. Lewis spends a considerable amount of time later on into the book elaborating on an individual’s path to his/her ultimate destination, be it Heaven or Hell. MacDonald speaks for Lewis while answering some of the narrator’s questions about a possible departure from Hell into Heaven (pp. 68):

“But I don't understand. Is judgment not final? Is there really a way out of Hell into Heaven?"
"It depends on the way you're using the words. If they leave that grey town behind it will not have been Hell. To any that leaves it, it is Purgatory. And perhaps ye had better not call this country Heaven. Not Deep Heaven, ye understand." (Here he smiled at me). "Ye can call it the Valley of the Shadow of Life. And yet to those who stay here it will have been Heaven from the first. And ye can call those sad streets in the town yonder the Valley of the Shadow of Death: but to those who remain there they will have been Hell even from the beginning.”

Here one sees glimpses of what some individuals may assert to be Universalist traits in Lewis’ description. The description given here of a possible move from Hell to Heaven fits into Lewis’ fantastical writing well as it doesn’t seem to quite make sense to readers who bring with them their traditional understanding of space and temporality. What ultimately defines each location for each individual seems to be the permanence of each individual’s residency. Those who end up in Heaven will have been in Heaven from the moment they entered what is described as not quite Heaven (“The Valley of the Shadow of Life”). Individuals who started off on the dark city streets of what is seemingly Hell will have only been in Purgatory if they wind up residing in Heaven, while those who permanently remain there (the dark city streets) will be and have been in Hell all along. For Lewis, it seems as if the final destination dictates what the entire experience has been. Lewis uses MacDonald again to clarify and work out this idea further: (pp. 69)

Not only this valley but all this earthly past will have been Heaven to those who are saved. Not only the twilight in that town, but all their life on earth too, will then be seen by the damned to have been Hell. That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, 'No future bliss can make up for it,' not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. And of some sinful pleasure they say 'Let me but have this and I'll take the consequences': little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. Both processes begin even before death. The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man's past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why, at the end of all things, when the sun rises here and the twilight turns to blackness down there, the Blessed will say, 'We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven,' and the Lost, 'We were always in Hell.' And both will speak truly.

Lewis is affirming this idea of individuals’ final destinations determining the totality of their experiences, not just of the afterlife, but of earthly life as well. Heaven and Hell can be seen then as the only two complete, possible experiences for individuals. Each works back throughout a person’s life based on the eventual choice that person makes in regards to choosing his/her self or choosing God. This process of reverse-operation is beyond our given and apparent conception of space and temporality.

3. Evaluating Lewis’ Views

With views of Heaven and Hell explained as they are described in The Great Divorce, I will now (admittedly, subjectively) evaluate said views. To begin with, and perhaps most importantly, I believe it necessary to comment on Lewis’ approach to the book. While I typically appreciate a straightforward expository approach to theological issues, I believe that Lewis’ fantastical approach in his treatment of Heaven and Hell was an excellent choice. The value of this approach is twofold.

Firstly, Lewis’ admission of a fantasy style keeps readers from becoming too hung up on trivial and minute details. Lewis isn’t interested in giving a realist (at least in the physical sense) account of what Heaven and Hell are quantitatively like. Rather, he is aiming for a description of the character of each, guiding readers to theological truth rather than any sort of scientific (if you can call it that) truth. This ties into the second and perhaps even more significant virtue of this approach in that as a fantasy description, Lewis’ description actually lies closer to the reality of heaven. To qualify this, I am by no means calling Heaven a fantasy in the sense of something made up or imaginary. Rather, I am drawing out the surrealism of fantasy in describing the surpassing nature of heaven. Heaven transcends human beings’ complete understanding. We may be able to have glimpses of Heaven, but its very essence is beyond us. By describing Heaven in the style of fantasy, Lewis is able to simultaneously draw out its other-worldly character and prevent readers from developing their own individual views of Heaven grounded in who they are as individuals. We can see this prevention as a valuable action in The Great Divorce itself. Part of many individuals’ struggles regarding entering Heaven involve their own self-assured conceptions of Heaven. By emphasizing Heaven as surpassing humanity’s full understanding, Lewis is suggesting that readers hold an openness to what God has in store.

Overall, I generally agree with the descriptions Lewis has given both Heaven and Hell. I think both are necessarily dependent on the relationship of individuals’ own dependence with God. I don’t believe that God simply has humans run through life as a sort of obstacle course, but rather gives humans life and freedom so that they can develop character which will ultimately decide whether to fully accept God or to fully be absorbed in one’s own self. Any sort of Universalist elements which pop up in The Great Divorce don’t really bother me. I think most, if not all Christians, hope in their innermost beings that the all-loving God they know will allow anyone (at any time) to choose him and enter into Heaven. However, this deep hope is something which is hard to wrestle with as the Bible (in its canonical form) doesn’t seem to clearly assert such an idea anywhere in its pages. Christians must then explore how to deal with this tension between the (literally) stated and the seemingly implied. Practically, from my skeptical/conservative epistemic platform, I think in our everyday interactions we as Christians need to err away from Universalist tendencies in respect for and submission to the concepts we see regarding salvation as found in the Bible. However, knowing God to be beyond our own full understanding, I see no problem in hoping that he may yet find another way in which to shatter our expectations and ultimately fulfill our deepest hopes.

“The Twenty-fourth Century Ghost”

The following is a ghost short story I had to write for one my English classes. It definitely isn't top notch, but hopefully some people find it entertaining (the afterword is short and abrupt because I had to keep it to one page).

I carried it with me everywhere. The weight of what I had done, no, the weight of what I had failed to do had stayed with me for sixteen years. Sixteen years of missing those secret moments together. Sixteen years of missing her. I had endured though. The darkness I carried had shaped my career, driven me to strive farther than I could have ever possibly imagined. But now, I was finally cracking under the weight. My once stalwart nature was now decrepit. I was rotting from the inside, the darkness consuming me.

I stared hard into the mirror before me. I was met by a gaunt, ragged face marked with a pallid complexion and two sunken, brown eyes. God, I had let myself go. Despite the tightly cropped haircut and beard, I looked nothing like a warship captain on the cusp of promotion. No, I looked like a man trying to survive one more day. One more night. One more encounter with her.

***

Kathryn and I had met the very first day of academy training. She was a tall woman, with jet black hair and shockingly blue eyes. She had a smile that could melt the bit of icecaps which still remained back on Earth. She- well, in short, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She had walked into our Introduction to FTL Navigation class laughing with a friend. I sat frozen in my seat, gawking like some sort of ape. After what may have been anything from seconds to eternity, I recovered from my stupor as she and her friend sat down – regretfully - on the opposite side of the classroom. I managed to sneak out of the classroom’s backdoor without anyone noticing. Thankfully, I had been one of the first students to arrive to class and had sat in the back where I had remained relatively unnoticed. Walking back up the corridor, I entered the classroom and confidently strode across the room, taking up a seat adjacent to Kathryn. Feeling I had perhaps been a little too bold in my direct entrance, I decided to do some damage control.

“Is this Intro to FTL Navigation?” I asked, feigning uncertainty.

She turned to face me, her eyes wide with mock concern. “Well I certainly hope so, considering you’ve walked into the room at least twice now.” Her piercing blue eyes now danced with laughter.

I grimaced. I guess someone had noticed my departure after all. Despite the strong feeling of embarrassment which rose into my cheeks, I chuckled and extended a hand. “Jim. Jim Engee.”

She returned the gesture and we shook. “Kathryn Aidanso,” she said, brushing some hair behind her ear with her hand before returning it to her side.

At that moment the professor came on over the room’s holo-projectors and immediately began his lecture, the details fully escaping me. I was too preoccupied, wondering whether Kathryn’s observation should leave me feeling embarrassed or flattered.

***

The year was 2342. I was in my last semester of the Sol Ascendancy Academy and had been stationed with Kathryn on the frontier planet of Horizon. All in all, it wasn’t a bad assignment. Sure, it was a remote and rather primitive planet, but as frontier planets went it was relatively safe, lying parsecs away from any recorded confrontations with the Verlind. Moreover, Horizon itself was beautiful. Verdant, green rainforests, sparklingly blue oceans, and tall, snow-covered mountains dominated the landscape of the nearly untouched planet. It also didn’t hurt that I had been stationed there with Kathryn. We’d become fast friends in our first year of the academy and had been romantically involved soon after. Of course, due to military regs, the true nature of our relationship was a secret to everyone but us.

One night, Kathryn and I laid out on the beach together, her head resting on my chest. We gazed up at the radiating stars above us, listening to the gentle crashes of the waves upon the shore. Who said you could only appreciate a day at the beach? It’s not like we had much of a choice anyway, as we needed to keep our relationship discrete. Enjoying the night atmosphere and each other’s presence, we basked in the silence that had fallen between us. We had already talked plenty tonight. Now we had earned the right to savor the well-earned silence that exists between two people who completely know each other. That comfortable silence, whose presence tells you that you are whole with the other. Finally, she spoke. The silence dissolved, but its warm glow remained.

“We should get back. Someone’s bound to notice we’re gone sooner or later.”

I sighed. “I hate it when you’re right. These new frequent shift changes have really put a damper on our late night escapades. I mean, sure the colonists have been getting unruly, but does command really think they’re ever going to attack base? If the colonists put one toe out of line, the fleet will hit them so fast and hard they’ll be gone before they can even feel it. With the Verlind looming, the SA isn’t going to put up with any rebellious, libertarian crap. Come fight with us, or stay out of our way.”

“I know, Jim,” Kathryn said softly. “But it only takes one idiot to cause a heap of trouble. You should know. Don’t you remember that incident on Artemis Prime in our third year at the academy when you-“

“Ok, ok. Point taken”

She continued on, grinning at my sensitivity. “Besides, just be grateful that we’re not out in the Tingle Arm fighting the Verlind. Now come on, let’s get back to base.”

Later, when we arrived back, I immediately knew something was wrong. The guards at the entrance to the barracks, whom we usually had to sneak past to get back in, weren’t there. Kathryn noticed it too.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Looks like power’s been cut to most of the base. It’s odd there’s not activity out here though. Maybe some sort of drill?”

"Let's hope that's it," I replied, and a cold, sinking feeling replaced the warmth of our trip to the beach. “You go check the barracks to see if anyone’s around. I’ll check the CIC and see what I can dig up.”

“All right,” she said. “But be careful.”

“Hey, come on. It’s me,” I said with a wink. She shook her head, rolled her eyes, and walked off towards the barracks.

Twenty minutes later I approached the barracks looking for Kathryn. I had learned that a group of radical colonists had somehow managed to capture the two dozen or so military personnel stationed on Horizon. Knowing that they wouldn’t be able to hold the base long from a retaliatory SA strike force, they were holding the hostages somewhere out in the rainforest, probably in a well-hidden bunker, hoping to negotiate military presence off Horizon. Fat chance that would happen.

I had made contact with the incoming strike force via lightcom and they had told me to sit tight. They would have everything under control. All that was left for me was to explain the situation to Kathryn and think up some plausible excuse as to why we weren’t on base when everyone else had been taken hostage. As I was about to open the barracks’ door, I froze, hearing voices.

“Shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to be here. I was just gonna sneak in, get some valuables, and get out. I'm not a rebel, I swear I'm not! I just didn't think anyone would notice if a few things went missing tonight, alright?"

“Please,” I heard Kathryn say. “Just take what you want and get out. I won’t tell anyone.” There was fear in her voice.

“Liar,” the first voice said. “If I let you go I’m a goner. You’re gonna spill the beans on me and I’m gonna be strung up just like them rebels.” Wasting no more time I barged through the door, my blaster trained on Kathryn’s assailant.

“Let her go,” I demanded.

“Can’t do that” he snarled, holding an old, twenty-second century style glock to Kathryn’s head and using her as a human shield. “Drop the blaster, or the girl gets it.”

“Jim, please. Don’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to be a hero,” she said.

“Let her go,” I repeated. The man was looking increasingly desperate. He knew that, one way or another, he was running out of time. My stomach churned. I couldn’t give him the chance to do anything stupid. I didn’t want to be a hero, but I needed to be. Seeing an opening, I took it. I exhaled deeply, focused my eyes, and squeezed the trigger.

I missed.

***

I carried her death with me every day. I had escaped justice by blaming the thief, whom I had conveniently killed, for her murder. After all, who was going to believe a dead, supposed rebel over an honorable service member like myself? Instead of allowing the event to permanently cripple me, I used it to drive me. For her I was going to become the best captain I could be. For her I was going to become the hero I had failed to be.

 Sixteen years later I had risen in the ranks to become one of the fleet’s best captains and was under consideration to become a vice-admiral; arguably, one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. I had recently survived a scare with cancer that had been discovered during a routine checkup – you’d think we have finally fully cured it after all these centuries – and was feeling the best I’d felt since before Kathryn’s death. My warship, the Venerator, was on patrol in the Tingle Arm – on lookout for the Verlind whom we mysteriously hadn’t encountered for over a decade – when the dreams began. Every night I began to dream about Kathryn and her death. The dreams grew progressively darker. She would just stare at me, face blood-splattered face and blue eyes wide with shock. One night, having awoken from yet another nightmare in a cold sweat, I decided to give up on sleep and found myself headed to the mess hall for a warm cup of tea. As I turned down one of the ship’s narrow, dimly-lit corridors, I stopped mid-stride.

She looked exactly how I had remembered her for the past sixteen years. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, her skin pale, but not ghastly. Unlike my dreams however, there was no blood on her face. Her blue eyes showed no surprise at seeing me there in the corridor; rather, her brow was furrowed and her gaze burrowed deep into me, suggesting something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Was it menace? We continued to stare, our eyes never breaking contact. The silence began to grow. It crescendoed until it screamed out to me. This was not the comfortable silence we had once known together. No, this silence was the silence of accusation. My palms began to sweat and my hands shook uncontrollably. I felt as if I were being swallowed into a void. I was paralyzed, helpless in the now unfamiliar face of what I had once known so well and intimately. Finally, with all the grit I had within me, I tore myself away from the silence’s gravitas.

“I’m sorry” I lamely blurted out. There was no answer. She made no movement. I began to walk towards her, closing the gap between us. “Why are you here?” I asked, my voice shifting from a tone of desperation to one of demand. “What do you want?” I bellowed at her. As I was about to grab her shoulders, a voice from behind startled me, causing me to turn sharply.

“Sir?” a hesitant voice asked, edged with concern. “Is everything all right?” It was Ensign Jenkins, a young communication specialist from Earth on his first assignment. I turned back to face Kathryn but all that greeted me was the corridor wall. She was gone, once again.

“Y-yeah, yes, yes. Every- everything’s fine.” I quickly murmured. “Just, just needed to do some late night, uh, brainstorming out of my, out of my cabin” I said, obviously failing to cover up my behavior. Jenkins didn’t look at all convinced. “You should get back to the comm.,” I said. “Never know who’s going to come calling.”

***

She hounded me. My dreams had turned so dark that I was now hardly sleeping anymore. Worse, when I would wake, she would be there, staring at me in silent accusation, never responding to my questions or pleas. I tried to brush her cheek once with my hand, but my body froze centimeters from her, seemingly preventing me from touching her. She was always there in the night, but wholly unknowable to me.

My work began to suffer. I was losing control of the crew. I heard their whispers as I would walk by them. Their concerned stares followed me wherever I went. I finally decided to visit the ship’s doctor, Callista Stevens. She was one of the best doctors in the fleet and had been assigned to the Venerator after my recent scare with cancer.

            “So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” I tried to ask nonchalantly.

            “You say you’ve been having some insomnia?” she asked. I had left out some of the details of my situation. I couldn’t afford to come clean, not when I’d come so far in my career. One admission that I had been seeing a dead person and I’d have been stripped of command faster than I could I have blinked.

            “Yeah, it’s probably nothing though. Just figured I might as well bring it up since I was due for a checkup anyway.” She looked into my eyes for a brief second. Her face flashed... something, but I couldn’t read it.

            “Well, Captain, I didn’t pick up anything abnormal with my tests so I don’t know what to tell you. If you feel things are getting worse though, please, don’t hesitate to see me.” As I left I noticed her scribbling something down hard into her holo-board. Doctors and their damn charts.

***

I’ve thought about going back to see the Doc since then. I think about it every day. The nights have only gotten worse. Kathryn’s always there now, in the night. I know why too, even if she won’t tell me. She’s come back for justice. I may have escaped it sixteen years ago, but I can’t run forever. Did I really push myself for her sake, or was it just for my own benefit? Was it just my own way of lying to myself to cope with the guilt? Even if it was for her, does she care? She’s dead because of me, because of my failure. A failure for which even the greatest achievements can’t compensate for. Even in the twenty-fourth century, human nature hasn’t changed from what it was in primal civilization. Justice always has and will always be an eye for an eye. A life for a life.

I turn from the mirror and stare out the small viewport into the empty void of space. Tiny pinpoints of starlight are nearly swallowed by the immense darkness. I’ve thought about dumping myself out an airlock. To allow myself to finally be swallowed by the void. God, I hope I fade into nothingness when I die. Anything to escape. I decide the airlock’s not the best way to go though. I’d probably get caught before I could make it out, and whatever happens, this needs to end now. I can’t face another night, can’t survive another encounter with her.

Drawing my blaster from its holster, I raise it to my head. Might as well end this the way it began. If anyone can understand a complete cycle, ghosts must be able to. I exhale deeply, close my eyes, and squeeze the tr-

***

Far away, back on Earth, two men watched Jim’s vitals flat line. “Dammit,” one said. “I really thought he was going to be the one.”

The other man sighed. “You’ve said that about almost every candidate so far.”

“I know, I know,” the first man said, resigned. “It’s just… do you ever feel guilty? You know, about what we’re doing?”

The other man turned to regard the first, his head cocked slightly. “Every day,” he said gravely. After a brief pause he laughed. “Christ no, how would I ever get any sleep? The candidates are necessary. While they may be ignorant of some of the, uh, finer points regarding their service, they all willingly gave their consent when they swore to protect Earth and her colonies.”

“But are they really doing that?” the first man insistently asked. The other man now looked at the first in complete surprise.

“Of course they are” he stated. “You know what’s at stake here. You know we need to find someone to command the fleet against the Verlind.”

“Yes,” the first man said, resigned. “I know that we need someone who can resist the mental influence of the Verlind. Someone who won’t be compromised of his ability to effectively lead and defeat the enemy. But how do we even know for a fact that the Verlind can control or even influence our thoughts? What’s more, why don’t we ever lie to any of the current admirals and make up some bullshit about them having cancer so that we can implant them with cognitive influencing devices?”

The other man began to grow agitated and angry. “You’ve seen the old reports from first contact showing the brain activity of some of the survivors of Verlind attacks. You know perfectly well that PTSD can’t fully account for some of the observed abnormalities. You’ve also seen the battle logs. It would be far too generous to pass off some of the captains’ behaviors as simply irrational.  Do we know for certain that the Verlind can screw with our minds? No, but we can’t take any chances. We need to hit them hard and with everything we’ve got before they come back and finish what they started.”

“And,” he continued on, “you also know perfectly well why we can’t test the admirals’ minds. They’re the ones who commissioned this project in the first place. No way in hell are they going to let us mess around inside their heads.”

The first man sat there, looking unconvinced. Finally, he spoke. “Shall I close the file?”

“Yes, and open up the file on candidate number 378. We need to finish up the 300’s soon if we’re going to get any work done on the 400’s before the end of the year.”

Afterword

            “The Twenty-fourth Century Ghost” came about as a sort of exploration of the question “where might ghosts in a technologically advanced future come from?” The answer which the story provides doesn’t actually drastically differ from modern or past ghost stories. While the exact means and mechanisms of ghost appearances may change with the times, the general theory behind the appearance of ghosts remains the same: the most potent and frightening ghosts arise when our deepest fears and regrets intersect with the right opportunity (often others exploiting for gain). So, while on the one hand this story is unconventional due to its science-fiction setting, it remains conventional in its approach and philosophy of ghosts.

Most of the story deals with Jim’s own fear and regrets. The ghost is clearly born from and dependent on Jim’s own regret and shame towards the night that he accidentally killed Kathryn. It’s hard to feel sorry for Jim’s torment during most of the story. Yes, he is suffering from regret and fear, but it seems that in many ways he brought this predicament on himself. When Jim commits suicide, readers may feel that justice and resolution have been reached. Jim has finally had to pay the price for his dark past. If the story ended here, it wouldn’t be a truly potent and frightening ghost story.

The final section of the story adds the opportunity that the story needs to be potent and frightening. The story becomes scarier not only due to the true malevolence behind the ghost’s appearance (the exploitation of man – albeit, perhaps for a greater good), but also due to the uncertainty readers now have in viewing both Jim and his ultimate fate. Are they now supposed to view him sympathetically due to his exploitation? The reader is conflicted, just like ghost-encountering characters. This story also fits the conventions of ghost stories due to its use of the uncanny, non-linear storytelling, a disturbed individual, and a ghost that is hard to pinpoint.

My Thoughts on Chuck's Series Finale

Josh Schwartz and Chris Fedak never fail to excel at mediocrity.

Call me unsatisfied with the Chuck’s finale. Not mad, but definitely not satisfied. I felt that the writing did the tremendous actors (specifically Zachary Levi, Yvonne Strahovski, Adam Baldwin, and Joshua Gomez) of Chuck a great disservice. I guess I'm more disappointed with what the finale could have been (and wasn't) then what it actually was.

I mean, the whole bittersweet ending isn't always bad, but it just doesn't seem like the best choice for a show like Chuck - which ran 5 seasons thanks to its passionate fans (and NBC's woes). The main problem with the finale is that the ending just doesn't fit with the character of the show. Chuck was always pretty lighthearted and optimistic, never taking itself too seriously or encouraging/expecting its fans to take it seriously (nearly every episode required fans to suspend at least a moderate amount of belief/reality). The ending to the finale would be fine on a different sort of show, but it just feels really out of character for a show like Chuck. It's like the show, and not Sarah, lost its sense of identity for the finale.

While the final scene taken by itself might come across as hopeful, taken in the context of the two (finale) episodes, it just didn't sit right or feel like an appropriate ending to the series. Appropriate for the end of episode 5-12? Yes, but not the series. In the finale, I never really got any sort of real sense that Sarah has any sort of romantic connection or feelings regarding Chuck anymore. Honestly, the ending gave me an impression that Sarah and Chuck might try to date for a while but end up just being good friends and nothing more. Perhaps I'm way off base here, but that's just what my gut told me and is telling me in the context and framework of the last two episodes (what Schwartz and Fedak provided).

Perhaps the reason that the Chuck finale failed to resonate with viewers such as myself, is that it’s ending was designed to be viewed in the lens of the popular American idea (or myth) of “soul-mates,” an idea that many individuals like me don’t buy into. I get the idea of the soul-mates notion that most of the finale's supporters seem to be citing; the problem is though, a lot of people (and from that I think we can extrapolate Chuck viewers) don't necessarily buy into the idea of soul-mates. (Now is not the time or place for me to get into the details of why, but I just don’t think the concept fits well into the Biblical worldview I try to shape my thinking around.) In fact, I'm not sure Chuck as a show has ever supported such an idea. Chuck and Sarah fell in love, but it wasn't easy and it didn’t just happen. Think of all of the fighting and work they had to do in order to finally get together. Chuck as a show seemed to support an ethic of "fight for what you believe in" as opposed to a "if something's meant to happen, it will happen." This doesn't mean that Chuck and Sarah won't fall in love again, but it'd be very hard (likely impossible) to replicate the same situations and circumstances that led to Chuck and Sarah falling in love. Additionally, Sarah really doesn't seem to want to pursue a romantic relationship with Chuck. Yes, she kissed him in the finale’s final scene, but I really don't think that kiss invalidated her character's state as previously presented in the finale. So yes, if you believe in soulmates/think that Chuck (as as an entire series) has advocated for such an idea then the ending will seem happy to you. If you don't however, the notion of Chuck and Sarah merely ending up as (good) friends really doesn't seem too far-fetched. If Schwartz and Fedak really wanted for us to have that sort of hope and optimism that some are citing, you'd think they've put more of it into the two hours they had for the finale. There's a difference between being subtle and being lazy – building something into your story versus just expecting viewers to choose the right lens needed for viewers to comprehend your story in the way you’ve intended for it to be interpreted.

I think Chuck will always hold some sort of spot in my heart regardless of its ending (and my feelings towards the ending). There will however be a lot of criticism (fair or unfair) due to the sense of ownership and investment so many individuals have towards Chuck as a show. In part, perhaps those of us expressing criticism are really just trying to be convinced that the finale was a good and proper one (proper in the sense of fitting the character of Chuck as a show) so that we can come to grips with how we are feeling now.

Worst Case scenario: Chuck's finale is a primer for the upcoming movie The Vow.

(Sorry for not touching on more of the finale – there are a lot of good and poor parts to it. Chuck getting stuck with the Intersect again could be a source of great debate and contention but is a smaller issue when compared to the one I’ve discussed.)

January Series Reflections: Pedro Noguera

NOTE: The content of this post was originally authored for a class I'm taking this Interim on Calvin College's January Series. This content was written to be a short, one page reflection prompted by a speaker's presentation. Therefore, this post does not have much context and has not been edited (or perhaps through out) very well. It is essentially just some of my very rough, incoherent thoughts that will not be backed or exegeted well due to the nature of the original assignment.

Being raised in the rural, remote Upper Peninsula of Michigan, thinking about inner-cities and all of the problems they face is a difficult task for me. I feel that Dr. Pedro Noguera did a wonderful job in getting me to better grasp the true depth and breadth of the problems that public inner-city educational systems face. A list of such problems is quite extensive: poor or no healthcare, overpopulation, economically depressed neighborhoods, broken families, poor and dangerous living conditions, instability, and perhaps most of all, a lack of hope.

Perhaps the greatest contributing factor to this lack of hope is the frustration that we all feel at seeing politicians and government officials make the same plans and promises as their predecessors: plans and promises that we all know will fail and be broken. Yet, I don’t think that most of us believe that the politicians and officials are stupid or purposefully being wasteful and ineffective. Rather, I think we realize that there is a large disconnect between the people and the policymakers; an abyss separating the two. Both sides wonder why they can’t reach the other while an abundance of resources is futilely thrown into the chasm. The people can’t figure out why they aren’t receiving the resources they believe they are entitled to and the policymakers are scratching their heads in bewilderment at the ineffectiveness of the resources they are distributing. If we are to begin addressing and fixing the inner-cities’ myriad of problems then we must first effectively deal with the central problem inner-cities face – providing a quality education in public schools.

To best do this I believe that policymakers need to have more direct contact with both the people they makes policies for and the environments in which such people live. Looking at reports and lists of statistics and numbers may be useful to some extent, but creating policies and solutions solely based on such figures isn’t good enough. The public education system not only needs, but deserves more. Policymakers need to spend ample time in the worst public schools and the harshest neighborhoods that such schools’ students come from. If we don’t have a full, comprehensive picture of the problem (specifically all of the problem’s factors rather than just how the factors manifest themselves) then how can we expect to have a real chance at solving the problem? Can you really expect to solve a complex math problem by only looking at the numbers and not the operations involved? Without practical, firsthand knowledge of public schools and their students our theoretical and detached knowledge becomes very limited in usage capability as we have no proper way to apply it.

Can we fix public school systems? Sure, but it’s clearly going to take a lot of work and not just on the part of policymakers. While they do need to go out and engage with schools and communities, the schools and communities need to reciprocate such engagement, opening up and joining in the difficult process of helping outsiders understand a specific brand of culture. Not only do they need to be open and helpful, but they also need to better understand the sense of entitlement that so many of them possess. What are people currently entitled to in regards to their public education and what should they be entitled to? What does such entitlement presuppose from the individuals that possess it? These are the questions that we must all come to answer if a better public education system is to be achieved. While answering them may be challenging, choosing not to answer them will only lead to greater challenges.

January Series Reflections: Eric Metaxas

NOTE: The content of this post was originally authored for a class I'm taking this Interim on Calvin College's January Series. This content was written to be a short, one page reflection prompted by a speaker's presentation. Therefore, this post does not have much context and has not been edited (or perhaps through out) very well. It is essentially just some of my very rough, incoherent thoughts that will not be backed or exegeted well due to the nature of the original assignment.

Overall I found Eric Metaxas to be the most interesting presenter/speaker of the 2012 January Series thus far. I found him to be witty, engaging, and right on the mark on the vast majority of points he made. He definitely has a fair share of charisma – something that will no doubt help him to sell piles of his books (I’m already planning on getting the Bonhoeffer book eventually). Two minor quibbles I had with him were his insistence that Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet Spy is truthfully history, free of his personal thoughts and opinions, and his statement that he doesn’t disagree with Bonhoeffer on any (major) issues. First, while it’s great (and perhaps somewhat obligatory) to say that a biographical book you write sticks to history just as it was, we all know that authoring such a book is impossible by definition. Part of history is the lens through which it’s viewed meaning that history can’t be practiced without some sort of spin being put on it. Secondly, I think we can also pretty easily realize that it’s (near) impossible to agree with someone else on every issue. So, to understand Metaxas’ statement that he agrees with Bonhoeffer on everything we must accept one of three possible conclusions: either Metaxas didn’t feel like answering the question (it was towards the end of our Q&A and perhaps he was growing tired of answering Bonhoeffer questions), or Metaxas interpreted the question as only referring to a limited number of issues and could indeed feasibly agree with Bonhoeffer on say, a dozen or so issues, or finally, Metaxas does in fact believe that he and Bonhoeffer do agree on all issues. I find this last conclusion to be rather troublesome as it indicates to me that Metaxas may have very well projected some of himself onto Bonhoeffer when interpreting Bonhoeffer’s writings and while writing his book. If this were to be the case then it would seem that Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet Spy would be greatly diminished as it would begin to slide more towards a book about how Metaxas applies Bonhoeffer’s writings and teachings rather than an actual biography on Bonhoeffer. I tend toward believing that the Metaxas’ statement falls somewhere between the first and second options – he generally agrees with Bonhoeffer and didn’t feel like picking at nitty gritty details that individuals lacking much background on Bonhoeffer (such as most of our class) probably would be unable to appreciate.

The issue I (and probably a great deal of the class) found to be most interesting was Metaxas’ handling of the kill vs. assassination vs. murder distinction. On the whole I think Metaxas handled the subject quite well, warning against “all-or-nothing” and “black-or-white” approaches so often took. Circumstances dictate what action should be taken in such scenarios, making it impossible to have a sort of general rule about when it’s ok to take another human’s life. However, I do think Metaxas could have gone further on the distinction of the great weight that results from taking another’s life versus the beautiful and amazing story that unfolds when a villain is redeemed rather than killed by a hero. Thinking about the some of the great stories that have been told in literature and cinema, while stories of vigilantism and “redemptive violence” (making things right by killing someone) are extremely popular and constitute one of America’s greatest myths (think of all of the Westerns that have been told), stories of non-violent redemption have posses the potential to have even more resonance with audiences. I think this may be a good reflection on the way God has created us. While we can take drastic, somber actions in dire circumstances, we are ultimately more satisfied with actions that reflect God’s patience, forgiveness and most of all goodness.

January Series Reflections: Edith Mirante

NOTE: The content of this post was originally authored for a class I'm taking this Interim on Calvin College's January Series. This content was written to be a short, one page reflection prompted by a speaker's presentation. Therefore, this post does not have much context and has not been edited (or perhaps through out) very well. It is essentially just some of my very rough, incoherent thoughts that will not be backed or exegeted well due to the nature of the original assignment.

After listening to Edith Mirante’s talk, “Burma on the Brink,” the thing that really struck me is how blessed and fortunate we are to live in the United States, a country with a stable, rational democracy. While it’s encouraging to hear that Burma seems to be moving towards a full-fledged democracy, I still can’t help but wonder if they will ever fully implement such a democracy in the near future. Mirante’s comparison of Burma’s fake, military democracy’s officials pretending to take up democratic roles to children pretending to be the characters they dress up as for Halloween is an area of great concern for me. While individuals sometimes truly do take up the personas or fronts that they put up, crises of faith or identity are bound to eventually occur, reawaking individuals’ previous states and beliefs. As the planned “real” democratic election begins to loom, it seems to me very likely that the powerful military officials of Burma may begin to realize what a real democracy will mean for themselves as individuals; meaning, they will finally grasp that they are on the cusp of relinquishing the tremendous power they’ve firmly grasped for so many years. When I consider some of the great historical figures whom were unwilling to relinquish their power, I begin to have serious reservations that the historically cruel Burma military leaders will be willing to simply “ride off into the sunset,” accepting menial lives and positions of little to no power.

Reinforcing this idea is the fact that the Burma military has been known to arbitrarily “gun down” and execute its own citizens in order to reinforce its power and remind the population that the government is in control. The military run government is the population’s family: father, mother, little sister and big brother. The government has gone to great lengths to establish that they are god to the population – it decides who lives and dies. Clearly the government has a history of possessing both megalomaniacal and irrational traits, a fact that bodes very poorly for the hope of a real democracy in the near future. Destructive habits and ideas are entrenched in the very fabric of the government, making it very hard for such habits and ideas to simply disappear after a couple of years of government officials pretending to be democrats. History has shown that radical government shifts rarely come peacefully. Are there exceptions to this? Sure, but they are few and far between. A (cynical) person such as myself can’t help but think that the road to a free, democratic Burma is and will continue to be a long, uphill one.

Does this all mean that Burma can’t hope and believe that it will be soon free? Not at all; as Edith Mirante mentioned in her presentation there are many hopeful signs that Burma is well on its way to a democracy. The country is, in some ways, in the best shape it’s been in for decades. What has to be remembered though is that while the signs are positive, a positive result is not guaranteed. Burma and its supporters need to stay vigilant and firm in their push towards freedom. The freedom that Burma hopes and longs for has not and will not be had easily; however, this difficult journey will only make such a freedom all the sweeter when it is finally obtained.

January Series Reflections: John Varineau

NOTE: The content of this post was originally authored for a class I'm taking this Interim on Calvin College's January Series. This content was written to be a short, one page reflection prompted by a speaker's presentation. Therefore, this post does not have much context and has not been edited (or perhaps through out) very well. It is essentially just some of my very rough, incoherent thoughts that will not be backed or exegeted well due to the nature of the original assignment.

John Varineau defined music as “the organization of sound and time to move the human soul.” His definition varies from the standard definition due to his addition of the “to move the human soul” bit. I think this addition is a very appropriate one as it makes an understated truth about music much more obvious. What piece of music hasn’t been created in an effort to influence humans? Even seemingly dull and annoying “on-hold” music was likely created and chosen in an effort to keep individuals waiting on the phone in an at least a somewhat pleasant state. One can even argue that “music” produced by birds and other animals was designed by God to help humans enjoy his creation.

With this universal “soul-moving” property of music in mind we can begin to think about how music has, is, and will continue to be used as a form of propaganda. After all, propaganda is essentially content distributed with a purpose of influencing individuals towards some idea or ideology. So then, why does Varineau believe that music is only abused when it is used as a part of propaganda? Isn’t all music suggesting and trying to influence individuals toward some idea or ideology? I think what Varineau may have not articulated clearly enough is that music falls into the realm of propaganda when it forcibly pushes its listeners to a specific idea or ideology. I think music in its purest form is something that is very open to interpretation. That isn’t to say that music shouldn’t have a message; however, it’s meaning should be something that listeners are allowed to come to on their own terms, not shoehorned into. Listeners should be free to critically and freely examine what they hear and come to a conclusion they find to be best (perhaps best in regards to a hybrid between rationality and creativity). Music when used correctly should foster creativity in its listeners, inviting them to join in a song/work’s movement.

With this in mind, Varineau’s idea of the misuse of music becomes to come into clearer focus. Misuse is just a less restrictive form of abuse. When we are given music in a controlled setting our minds often become limited by what they’re observing. Creativity is diminished and avenues that are available in an open environment begin to close, forcing us down just a few particular paths. Not just one path like propaganda’s abuse, but a number that has been reduced in comparison to the music’s original starting point. This isn’t to say though that all uses of music in movies, television shows, video games, etc. are all necessarily cases of negative misuse. Such environments can be beneficiary when they are thoughtfully and tastefully applied and used. Sometimes a completely open environment is too hard for us to work from. We may need a nudge in some direction and certain closed environments can offer an appropriate nudge that gives us an idea of purpose and direction without shoving us. Really then, the misuse of music becomes something of a grey area, up to personal interpretation as to whether or not such use is a positive or negative factor.

With these clarifications in mind I believe that we can begin to have a better understanding and grasp on how music should be created, cultivated and consumed. Music and art in general are most often at their best when they afford their audience a chance to explore and build upon the ideas and feelings that a work has exhibited. Through this practice we can all mutually participate in being human – creatively and rationally exploring and building thoughts and ideas.

January Series Reflections:

NOTE: The content of this post was originally authored for a class I'm taking this Interim on Calvin College's January Series. This content was written to be a short, one page reflection prompted by a speaker's presentation. Therefore, this post does not have much context and has not been edited (or perhaps through out) very well. It is essentially just some of my very rough, incoherent thoughts that will not be backed or exegeted well due to the nature of the original assignment.

I’m not entirely sure what to think of Dr. Sherry Turkle’s presentation. After some reflection, it seems to me that her presentation’s main thesis, “technology is most seductive when its affordances meet out human vulnerabilities,” really is just another way of saying that technology – like other areas of life – is seductive when we’d expect it to be. Anything is most seductive to us when what it offers is something we lack; so, the fact that technology exhibits this same behavior really doesn’t tell us much about what makes technology unique. In fact, Turkle’s main thesis seems to say that technology isn’t so unique. She seems to be giving a stark warning against looking towards technology as a sort of god or savior that can save humanity from its own problems and mistakes. While this sort of warning has been issued frequently over the past decade, it was refreshing to hear Turkle’s own, insightful take on the topic.

While I mostly agree with Turkle’s overall claim that technology cannot solve all of humanity’s problems, I don’t agree with her stance on individuals’ privacy. In today’s world, Mark Zuckerberg’s claim that “privacy is no longer a social norm” seems to be a perfectly reasonable observation. I don’t think Zuckerberg was necessarily arguing that privacy shouldn’t be a social norm, which Turkle implied that he was. I’ll thus be addressing Turkles two questions given in response to his claim from the observational standpoint rather than the argumental one. After all, in today’s postmodern world who are we to be telling cultures what they should and shouldn’t be doing.

Turkle’s first question in response to Zuckerberg’s claim is, “What is intimacy without privacy?” True, there definitely is some level of privacy needed for a sense of intimacy to be had in most cases. However, Turkle seems to be taking a pretty extreme interpretation of Zuckerberg’s claim. She seems to be saying that a loss of privacy means that one no longer has control over any descriptive details of his or her own life. Privacy is then an “on or off” switch. You either have it or you don’t. Zuckerberg on the other hand seems to be taking a less extreme view of privacy, suggesting that a loss of privacy isn’t flipping a switch to “off,” but rather dialing a knob down a little. Sure some privacy is lost, but not every personal, descriptive detail. Taken with Turkle’s extreme interpretation of privacy, of course Zuckerberg’s claim comes across as absurd; however, when we reexamine what privacy is, we see that Zuckerberg’s claim accurately describes the social world we live in. We have lost full privacy because of modern social conventions like cell phones (the social norm is to have one and having one entails a loss of some privacy), but we haven’t lost total privacy as it’s not the social norm (or even possible) to broadcast all of our thoughts and feelings.

Intimacy can still be had in today’s social world. Is it as prevalent as it was in other times? Probably not; however, we can still be intimate with others if we choose to be, even in times when some level of privacy is seemingly compromised. Think of scenes from romantic comedies where two star-crossed individuals finally meet in a busy place and share an intimate moment. Sure, there are other people around that may be watching and listening, but the fact of the matter is that those other people don’t know what’s going on in the minds of the two individuals and the two individuals choose to have an intimate moment regardless of what level of privacy they have or don’t have. While such an example isn’t an actual case, it does seem to suggest that we find such intimacy, in situations where privacy may be compromised, plausible.

Turkle’s second question, “What is democracy without privacy?” also seems to fall rather flat. In a true, pure democracy everyone should be able to voice his or her own views and opinions without fear of retribution. A democracy works best when individuals are openly sharing ideas and thoughts in an effort to better the lives of others. A loss of privacy means backdoor, shady dealings that are done in private to benefit only an exclusive group of individuals. Sure, people shouldn’t be afraid of others attacking them for their ideals, but such an attack wouldn’t be allowed by a true, properly functioning democracy.

All in all, I found Turkle’s presentation informative and stimulating, even if I didn’t fully agree with all of her points. While I do not know what sort of faith Turkle has (if she has any), her message is one that Christians often need to be reminded of. Jesus, not ourselves or our technological creations, is the true savior and the ultimate way to fix the problems we face in this world.

My Thoughts on the Hunger Games Series

(If you haven't read the Hunger Games trilogy, you should probably quit reading now, since a moderate amount of spoilers are to follow in this post.)

To begin, I'll apologize for the lack of coherence that this blog post may reflect. It’s been ages since I've blogged anything due to college, work, and bouts of slothfulness. Christmas Break is already halfway over for me and I really haven't done much at all – not that this is a bad thing, but I was hoping to do some writing last week. I had some other topics lined up, but none are very fresh in my mind, so I'll just be writing about my recent thoughts; specifically, my thoughts on the Hunger Games Trilogy.

My experience with The Hunger Games began when I got a Kindle Touch for Christmas (it’s great by the way – and I wasn't fully sold on it [and the concept of ereaders in general] when I ordered it). Having a device to read digital books on, but possessing no digital books of my own, I decided it would be an opportune time to finally read the Hunger Games Trilogy that everyone’s been talking about (there’s a movie coming out after all so I knew I needed to have read the books before I saw the movies, or I’d risk be lambasted to do so by all of my friends and acquaintances).

Let me give you a breakdown of my mental-state throughout the series before I discuss some of my deeper thoughts. As I started the first book, I had to work fairly hard to get through the first chapter – it’s hard for a twenty-year-old male to be thoroughly captivated by an account of a teenage girl and a cat, especially on Christmas Eve. By chapter two though I was hooked, and ripped through the rest of book one without a second thought. From about two-thirds of the way through section one to the beginning of section three the book is simply enthralling. I was at the mercy of the book and felt my heart pounding hard for the entire duration of this passage. I found the last section of the book to be a bit on the disappointing side. It’s not bad by any stretch, but it pales in comparison to the section before it, and winds up being a bit predictable and stale. No doubt there are some great moments, but I feel that too many pages were wasted purely setting up the great moments and the grandeur of the previous section is partially spoiled by an absence of creativity. I was fine with the ending itself and while I won't praise it, I certainly won't penalize the book for it (although the rest of the series is penalized by it – more on that later).This book winds up being just short of a masterpiece (you could probably count the number of books I’ve called masterpiece on one hand so this is still a great compliment from me). I’d probably give Collins’ writing an 8 (recognizing the target audience) and her ideas a 9. For a sort of reference with other young adult/teen books let me say that I’d give the Harry Potter series a cumulative average of an 8.5 writing and a 9 on ideas while the cumulative average of the Twilight series has a writing score of 3 and an idea score of 5. So, all in all, I greatly enjoyed the first book and had high hopes for the rest of the series (although I already began to question whether such excellence could be maintained due to the nature of the first book and where the series seemed to be going).

Book two started off pretty slowly, but I remembered book one’s slow start which allowed me to maintain high spirits. In fact, most of section one is a snoozer with things finally heating up at the very end. The last two sections definitely improve, although they still can't recapture the magic of the first book. Really, in retrospect, the last two sections feel like a spliced together version of books one and three. This isn’t a great combination though considering one of book one’s main strengths was its freshness and creativity, something that clearly cannot be preserved if it is closely repeated. All in all, book two is solid, primarily marred by a slow first section and the hindsight for knowing what book three holds in store. I'd give it an 8 again in writing but only a 7 in ideas.

Book three is when we finally realize that Collins may have just hitched two books onto the first in order to get a heavy-handed ending that is rather predictable and safe, although perhaps not quite in the conventional sense. It’s kind of like going to an awards banquet with a fantastic opening dinner and ceremony, followed by hours of predictable speeches and obligatory messages that you have to sit through because you're locked in the room (maybe not literally locked, but locked nonetheless by social etiquette). The first section of the book once again is an entirely predictable and snoozable affair. What makes it worse though is that the book never really takes off, as it just goes through the motions of wrapping up what we knew was inevitable about fifty pages through book one. This doesn't have to necessarily be bad (in some sense it is required), but Collins’ execution is what makes it such a dull affair. Really the book is a mini-story with gobs of introspection set on repeat. Section two feels like it should have been the boring section one that has somewhat plagued all of the series’ entries; it's just stalling, waiting for section three to begin. While Collins doesn't make a Stephanie Meyer mistake and completely bag out of giving us the required (or at least greatly appreciated), climactic ending, she does a rather half-hearted job of it. It lacks any sort of creativity and just seems to mimic the dull repeating introspection we've already suffered through in this book and a large portion of book two. Katniss is tired throughout the whole book, seemingly reflecting Collins’ state and the soon to be state of the reader. I suppose one could give Collins credit for having written a consistent book in this regard. The last few chapters are drawn out and a bit sloppy. When we think the final climax is coming we get a confusing stall to a severely less dramatic climax that is about as shocking as finding presents under the tree on Christmas morning. Yeah, the presents weren't there the night before, but you knew they were coming. Anyway, the epilogue tries to wrap up the book properly, but after arguably sacrificing the entire book for her ending, Collins isn't willing to sacrifice her ending state for a proper epilogue; instead, we get what feels like a bit of staple fanficition. Overall the writing in this book comes in at about a 7 and the ideas drop to a pale 4. It’s a pretty sorry way to end a trilogy that began with such promise. It’s hard to give the series an overall rating as I feel the ending and narrative progression (a chain is only as strong as its weakest links) really hurt the series’ lasting effect. Hard pressed, I’ll give the writing an 8 but the ideas only a 6.5. Clearly a large factor in this letdown was a rushed book. If Collins had taken a little more time (or perhaps if the publishers has allowed her to) this could've been a suitable ending to the series.

Now to some more substantial (but still rather incoherent) thoughts.

The Ending of Book 1 and its Impact on the Rest of the Series:

As I said before, the ending of book 1 is a fine way to end the first book of a trilogy. In fact, with a few added pages, or perhaps even just paragraphs, it would be a serviceable ending to a standalone book (something that I think I would have preferred over what we got from the entire trilogy). The main problem is that the ending we are given at the end of the trilogy is far too similar to the ending we're given at the end of the first book. Essentially in both, Katniss returns home to spend the rest of her life with Peeta in a depressed state of mind and depressed environment. There a few noticeable differences as in the last ending it’s more of a freely-made choice to be with Peeta, Katniss is more scarred mentally and physically, and the environment is no longer under the harsh control of the Capitol. However, are these differences so great that they justify two additional books?

Taking into account the negative progression of the narrative, I feel that the differences aren't so great. First, the choice to be with Peeta still isn't exactly a completely free choice: Katniss is pretty messed up and Peeta is just kind of there while Gale has run off (he’s in no state to be anywhere else). Additionally, it wouldn't have taken too much to tweak book one just enough so Katniss is happier to be with Peeta. Secondly, it also wouldn't have taken much for Katniss to be more scarred in book one. Losing Prim is something different that would've been harder to add to book one’s ending, but it’s somewhat of an irrelevant factor as Prim’s death is barely touched on after it happens. Finally, in many ways, the environments balance out - taking into consideration what Collins gives us. While book one’s ending has Capitol control, Katniss gets a comfortable life in her new house and with the entire District still intact. Book three’s ending never really explores what the new government’s like; presumably it’s better, but for all we went through it leaves this point far too much alone. The District still seems rather depressed as it tries to rebuild and most of the people that seemed dead under the harsh control of the old government are in fact dead even in the new ending.

So in essence, the endings are rather similar. Perhaps if certain points such as the new government and Prim’s death were touched on more there’d be a more concrete difference between the two thus justifying the additional two books. Or even if a sort of disharmonious echo was drawn out between the two endings by Collins, it might have been easier to like or at least appreciate the trilogy's ending. What I've come to conclude is that an expanded book one ending would've been far more preferable to the rushed, minimalistic trilogy ending that Collins used. True, a story isn't just about the ending and is often more about the journey (a case in point being LOST), but as some of my next points address, the journey given by the final two books considerably drops off in quality from the first book, making me wonder why we even had them at all (corporate greed cannot be fully blamed as Collins adamantly states that the narrative was always intended to be in a trilogy format, something that is also clear in how she wrote the books).

Peeta and the Indecision of the Plot:

Here I feel that Collins never really could decide what kind of priority the Peeta and Peeta/Gale relationships to Katniss should have on the overall narrative. Originally it seems that the narrative of the Hunger Games is centered around Katniss’ survival. Obviously her relationship (not just romantically) with Peeta is an important part of her survival, but as the first book ends and as the second book progresses, it feels as if the narrative has shifted to Peeta’s relationship to Katniss. In fact, I think I very reasonable case could be made for Peeta being the main protagonist (or at least hero) of the Hunger Games and Katniss serving as a narrator for his narrative. This however breaks down as the third book ends leaving the reader (or at least me) very disoriented as to what he or she has just been reading (perhaps my next section has some bearing here). Is Peeta the hero of the series or just a sideplot and how important is the love triangle? Again, perhaps this could’ve been clarified and greatly improved if the third book had been handled better.

Katniss’ Internal State and Topic Range:

While Katniss serves as an interesting narrator, she seems wildly unreliable at times (while some authors like George R.R. Martin purposefully do this, I don’t know if Collins had this in mind) and certain sections of the books don’t come off clean and are a little clunky. I feel like an additional narrator or narrators (whether other characters or an unknown observer) could have enhanced the trilogy. I’m not saying they need to be given large sections of the book, but a few chapters here and there of some other narrator would've been helpful for some clarity and tone issues. Focusing on Katniss alone causes some confusion and greatly restricts the series from breaking some new, creative ground that would've added another dimension to the series. As is, we have a narrative that seems to want to be focused on Katniss, but doesn't quite work due to some of the other elements Collins has tried to weave into the series. Due to this, the range of the book is greatly limited which seems a waste given the potential waters that Collins has to tread in and seems to want to tread in. The effect of war on individuals is sufficiently explored via Katniss, but not as fully as it could be. Meanwhile, the effects of rebellion, tyranny, and public figures along with topics such as the power and role of government, ethics, and the power of the press are hinted at but never satisfactorily explored. I know these are supposed to be young adult books, but Collins clearly had a more comprehensive and complex narrative in mind, something she doesn't quite reach.

A Lack of New Creativity and Abandoning an Expanding Universe :

Perhaps the greatest bane hounding the series is the complete abandonment of creativity once book one comes to a close. Collins lays all of her groundwork in book one and expects it to carry the rest of the series. While this seems like a logical thing to do, most excellent narratives continue to add more and more into their mythos right up until the final act. A few new characters are introduced, but they comes across as flat and don't contribute a whole lot to the narrative. Most of the setting of the final two books follows very predictably from book one, keeping the final two books from having the level of excitement and wonder book one produced (book three is especially guilty of this). Collins signs off of world-making after book one, a cardinal sin in an expanding universe.

Sending a Message but Offering a Poor (if any) Response:

Perhaps the primary reason for this discard of creativity is Collins’ utter devotion to her message of the effects of war on (young) people. While this is a fine message to send and explore, Collins’ obsession to it limits the rest of the series. Any adventure elements are completely abandoned as we move into a single (somewhat one-dimensional) character study. As the series closes, the plot elements tightly constrict around this theme, greatly restricting the narrative. Any sort of plot choices are thrown out the window as Collins must craft her yarn around her message to ensure that it sticks in the mind of the reader. It does, but isn’t necessarily effective as it comes across as heavy handed and doesn’t quite resonate the way it should with readers. Also, Collins really doesn't offer any sort of advice to the reader. While not required, it would've been nice to have seen a bit more of a moral (or morals) drawn out and displayed towards the ending, especially since what we've been given has been excessively heavy-handed anyway.

Overall, the Hunger Games is an above average series (I focused on the negative in this post as I figure most people have already been told of all of its admirable attributes) that starts superbly, but roughly coasts to the end. The series could’ve been in the excellent or perhaps even legendary range if more time had been put into crafting a comprehensive and more focused final book, along with some refinements in the middle book to properly reflect the series’ expanded and yet clearer focus. What makes the Hunger Games so disappointing in my mind is the fact that this very good series could have and should have been an amazing one.