It is not for a lack of academic integrity that my comments will not be quite so thorough on the writings by Professor Quinby. I can assure the reader that it is, indeed, the opposite (in a way) – I don’t wish to make presumptions about the author’s intent that I would otherwise feel at liberty to make, were that author not my professor (despite the fact that such critiques have been encouraged). I will, however, comment briefly on a point or two that I made sure to mark off during the course of my readings.
The first such moment came on page 5, where it is suggested that Flint Sky may be “suggesting that fear is one of the things that leads to unwarranted violence, making one more likely to attack in advance without sufficient cause” (Quinby, 5). I would, and indeed did, ask whether this was a comment on the Bush administration, where the doctrine of the preemptive strike came into existence. Whether one agrees with that policy or not is not really of any importance here, and I will not get into that debate. However, my question is moot, as the author moves on to showing the reader that Gibson was in fact making a commentary on the Bush administration by way of critiquing the war in Iraq.
The idea of the “co-savior”, first introduced on page 7 and revisited later on (at times using other terms) fascinated me, as I had not thought to look at these movies when I’d seen them in such depth. I had seen the narratives, and they seemed to follow a formula, as discussed, albeit in a newly entertaining way. Perhaps it was this juxtaposition of the traditional and “new,” as it were, in one silver screen for two hours (or, as I saw them, on my laptop while eating leftover Chinese food – both times, believe it or not) that made them “newly entertaining,” but further reflection leads me to know even less of what in particular was so attractive about either movie. Anyway, to a coherent point: the idea of the co-savior is a very interesting and fascinating one, and I was glad to see it traced through the other movies; I will certainly be looking for such figures in movies that I see in the future.
With regards to Jaguar Paw’s children representing Cain and Able, are we to believe that humanity has no hope? Perhaps these boys could be a new Cain and Able, as it were. Yes, the imagery that tugs on our heartstrings is that which we already know – which would necessitate the narrative’s leaning towards a Cain and Able-type life for the brothers, though we don’t see the actual ending. However, with the world beginning anew, could these brothers not be a new form of their Biblical counterparts – a pair of brothers not destined to end in tragedy? Indeed, as the author notes, one must take into account the fate of their Mayan society – they are both to die, one might guess, at the hands of Spanish conquistadors who are bound to find them eventually. This of course takes away the point of hoping for a new type of existence for the brothers, but at least in the moment we can feel full of the possibility of the moment.
Moving on, my biggest issue with Rosen’s epilogue comes on page 177, where we are told that “if it is true that we have a need for conclusive, meaningful ends, it is possible that the opposite is also true: that there is a corresponding need to avoid the discomfort that accompanies open-endedness.” Truthfully, I don’t even disagree with her; I actually take what she’s saying to be true. However, that’ s given that we avoid the walking-on-eggshells technique that Rosen seems to take in saying that such is a possibility: it seems to be a simple logical step to go from a need for conclusive ends to the need to avoid open-endedness. This is not to say that all people will need to avoid such endings all the time; I can attest to the opposite for myself: despite being uncomfortable with not knowing the origin of a story nor it’s true end (the seemingly natural counterpart to one’s beginning), I will be intrigued rather than incensed if such an ending were to come at the end of a movie that has truly fascinated and entertained me (Inception, for example). However, that’s not the point. All I mean to say here is that Rosen ought to avoid treating what she’s presented here as a possibility and instead present it as a fact.
That paragraph is concluded by a question asking “if enough of us desire a conclusive ending, will we make it happen to satisfy that need?” Though I have no actual basis for my answer, my gut instinct was a simple “no.” In the context of story-telling, one might still see the world as needing an ending, but look at it as someone else’s role to provide that ending – “can’t someone else do it?” The collective mindset, in such a case, does not need to look to the creation of these ends, as for the most part I believe they’ll simply wait out time until their ending comes.
Finally, there is the idea that with an apocalyptic mindset, as it were, we would have to fight against those who do not believe as we do, until we’ve brought about their destruction. Not only does this seem to me to be a veiled criticism of Bush administration policies, but it also seems untrue as a whole. While it is true that some may act this way, it seems to me that most would rather save and convert people to their way of thinking than have them serve as (potentially dangerous) enemies, thus providing a responsive argument to Rosen’s claim (177).
And that’s all, folks. With regards to the title of this post, I honestly have no idea where it came from and am not sure it fits my post. But to be frank, I could not think of a better title.
Thanks for taking the time to read!
