Dying To Be Entertained (The Hunger Games And Philosophy)

In a previous series of posts, I used The Walking Dead and Philosophy to look at the worldview issues in AMC’s hit series. Since the release of Catching Fire is not too far away, I am going to use The Hunger Games and Philosophy as a springboard to dive into some key themes in the Hunger Games Trilogy.
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In the opening section, Brian McDonald (“The Final Word On Entertainment”) and Anne Torkelson (“Somewhere Between Hair Ribbons and Rainbows”) look at the power of the arts to shape both individuals and cultures.

McDonald begins with Aristotle’s claim that art is mimeses, imitation, intended to “delight and instruct.” Artists accomplish this by showing the most noble aspects of life within the boundaries of the Golden Mean:

"At the right times, about the right things, towards the right people, for the right end, and in the right way, is the intermediate and best condition, and this is proper to virtue."

Art that does not elevate the soul in this fashion is merely empty spectacle. Those who wish to entertain should not seek to be innovative envelope-pushers, good art won’t promote extremes. Virtues such as bravery are destroyed by deficiencies (cowardice) or excesses (rashness) in real life.

Torkelson looks specifically at the power of music. The Greeks believed that bad music resembled bad character: graceless, without rhythm or harmony, and lacking truth. Good music mimicked good character: fearless, courageous, self-controlled, and wise.

Socrates claimed that the music we absorb shapes the souls of individuals, cultures, and even the laws of the city. Mousike, the realm of the Muses, is so powerful that the government needs to make sure it exhibits mimesis, celebrating and promoting all that is known to be good. Assuming the city is just, imitative music will nourish the soul of both the people and the culture; conversely, innovative, envelope-puushing music in a good society will almost necessarily corrupt it. McDonald quotes cultural critic Philip Reiff's blunt assessment of the situation:

 “Every true culture expresses and celebrates the power of re-creation [mimesis].” 

If Reiff is correct, false cultures are those that de-create the good through extreme innovation detached from historical moral norms. Herein lies the problem with the Capital. The city clearly lives, promotes, and is entertained by a life of extremes. The Hunger Games are perhaps a logical culmination of this sickness.

Cutting The Baby In Half: A Review of Neal Shusterman's "Unwind"

“In a perfect world mothers would all want their babies, and strangers would open up their homes to the unloved. In a perfect world everything would be either black or white, right or wrong, and everyone would know the difference. But this isn’t a perfect world.”

To help us better understand the entertainment shaping today's youth, I offer my latest review of books effecting a primarily YA audience. My goal is not to critique the art form as much as look at the worldview in the story.

This review will feature Unwind, the first book in an unfolding trilogy by Neal Shusterman that has justifiably earned an unbelievable amount of critical acclaim. It's set in a dystopic culture that has embraced the killing of innocent human life for the greater good. As Shusterman so adeptly shows, it's neither great nor good.
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In the not-so-distant future, the conflict over abortion has worsened. The pro-life crowd is killing doctors at a regular clip; the pro-choice crowd is flaunting their freedom by getting pregnant just to sell fetal tissue. The inevitable war fractures the country and threatens to topple the nation.

The two sides reach a compromise: there will be no more abortion, but parents can have the government Unwind their children when they turn 13. Unwinding is a process made possible by a recent medical breakthrough called neurografting, in which every part of a human can be detached and placed into another human. Since all the parts of the Unwound person are still alive, that person is still alive in some sense – or at least that’s how the argument goes. Abortion without death. All the pleasure of choice with none of the burden of responsibility. It's all very tidy.

It was meant to be a Swiftian compromise designed to shock both parties into sanity, a cultural version of King Solomon's suggestion that two mothers fighting over a baby should cut it in half. In the Biblical story, the real mother begs Solomon to spare the life of the child and give her baby to the other woman - which was exactly the outcome Solomon anticipated. Shusterman stated in an interview with The Trades that he wanted to look at what would happen if a baby's life was on the line and neither side flinched.

“When I go and speak at schools, one of the first things I talk about is the King Solomon story -- how the two women are fighting over the baby, and how Solomon proposes the idea of cutting the baby in half. What if one of those women didn't let go? What if the two sides were so entrenched in their positions that they would rather see the baby cut in half than ever compromise? Unwind is what happens when society decides to cut the baby in half -- figuratively and literally.” 

This kind of horror must be hidden behind a wall of ideology and propaganda. As the kids targeted for Unwinding find out about their doom, they reflexively repeat the mantra that has been droned to the damned: “I’d rather be partly great than entirely useless.”

The Last Apprentice (Seventh Son)

"Someone has to do it. Someone has to stand against the dark. And you're the only one who can."

To help us enter into and better understand the entertainment shaping today's youth, I offer my latest review of books effecting a primarily YA audience. My goal is not to critique the art form as much as look at the worldview in the story.

This review will look at The Last Apprentice, the first of a dozen books in Joseph Delaney's The Wardstone Chronicles.  The Last Apprentice won New York Public Library's "One Hundred Titles for Reading and Sharing" as well as the ALA Best of the Best Books for Young Adults. A movie based loosely on the series will soon arrive on the big screen as Seventh Son.

Tom Ward is the seventh son of a seventh son. That's an interesting lineage, sure, but who really cares? John Gregory, for one. He is a Spook, the last line of defense between the forces of evil and the rest of a blissfully unaware world. John's not getting any younger, and he needs an apprentice - namely, Tom, who has arrived after just the right amount of sevens.

You can read the plot elsewhere. I'd rather focus on the messages within the story.

The Day Miley Couldn't Stop

As always, significant cultural events reveal significant things about our culture. MTV's recent Video Music Awards were no exception.  In the midst of MTV’s glittery ode to itself, Miley Cyrus hijacked twitter for a while, and for good reason: her performance was incredibly inappropriate. In an industry that prides itself on pushing the envelope, she managed to shock almost everyone. 

When I saw the footage the next day, I felt embarrassed for Miley. The desperation and emptiness in her performance was heart-breaking.  On the one hand, I am encouraged that so many people were bothered by what she did. On the other hand, I am puzzled by the duplicity of the uproar, specifically from those in the entertainment industry. After all, she just did what her song said she wanted to do. 

Here is what the VMA’s celebrated and Miley brought to life in "We Can't Stop":

Joseph Finder's Paranoia: A Review

When I saw previews for the movie version of Paranoia a couple weeks ago, I thought, “I believe I read that book last winter. Something about a self-centered jerk who got caught in the middle of corporate espionage between even bigger self-centered jerks, and I didn't really care what happened to him or anyone else at the end.”

Yep, that was the one. I am apparently an outlier: critics seemed to like the book quite a bit, and audiences lapped it up (it was a NYT best-seller; the hardcover version went through four printings). Though the trailer for the recently released movie looks good, it's getting a 3% from critics and a 39% from the audience at Rotten Tomatoes. I guess the trailer is the best part.

This review will only cover the book, which differs from the movie in both appropriateness (for a YA novel, there was a surprising amount of R-rated material) and plot (the book is far more believable). Speaking of the plot....

Adam is a childish, self-centered slacker who has no idea what to do with his life other than make easy money, get laid, and drink himself into happiness (or forgetfulness). It’s not a roadmap for success.  He works for a Trion, a large corporation that apparently hires anyone. Frustrated by the impersonal nature of the company, he impersonates the VP for Corporate Events and caters a retirement party – to the tune of $78,000 dollars. Once he’s busted, he finds out that his little prank could earn him 30 -50 years in prison and a one million dollar fine. He spins a yarn about the retiree being his dying father.  It doesn't work, but it does highlight his ability to lie egregiously and convincingly.

This would be a downer to his employers, but not when the employers are soulless. Who better to infiltrate their competitors than a low-level con artist who can't cover his tracks? Not to worry. As his corporate espionage coach tells him, “You're a natural, Adam. You’re going to do just fine.” She was right - Adam is really good. But she was wrong about him doing just fine.

Honor, Idealism, and the Monsters Within: A Review of Jonathan Mayberry's Rot and Ruin Series

“When writers tell a story about monsters, we’re usually using them as a vehicle in order to tell a story about our own world.” - Jonathan Mayberry

In an attempt to better understand the entertainment shaping my kids and the rest of today's youth, I submit my latest review of books impacting a YA audience. My goal is not to critique the art form as much as look at how the story reflects and shapes the readers' worldview. 

This review will look at Jonathan Mayberry's Rot and Ruin series. According to Amazon.com,  Rot and Ruin was Booklist's Ten Best Horror Novels for Young Adults and a Bram Stoker and Pennsylvania Keystone to Reading winner. It was also nominated for several state Teen Book Awards, the Cybils Award, the Eva Perry Mock Printz medal, the Dead Letter Best Novel Award, and four Melinda Awards). Dust and Decay was the winner of the 2011 Bram Stoker Award. Rot and Ruin has already been optioned for the big screen.
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As part of the ongoing evolution in the horror genre (such as World War Z, Warm Bodies, and The Walking Dead), this series uses the zombie motif to address some surprisingly deep questions. Here's the primary one that lurks in the background: If zombies are basically amoral animals ruled by instinct, and they can feel no pain, why should people treat them with any respect at all? When faced with the dilemma of how we ought to interact with other living things, we usually begin by making several important distinctions.

• First, we note that a plant is different from an animal. I can spray poison on a thistle but not a hamster. So far, so good.
• Second, we consider the ability of something to feel pain. Lobsters are not the same as dogs. That’s a core argument that proponents of animal rights make as they fight for a world that is as free of all forms of pain as possible. 
• Third, we make a difference between moral animals (that would be people) and instinctive animals. When my cat brings a barely living bird into my backyard and eats it, I don't think she’s immoral.  If a person would do the same thing to a human victim, he or she would be a monster. 

What argument can be made against people who dismember, torture, and dehumanize a zombie? The argument would most likely be that this type of bestial violence destroys the souls of the perpetrators even as they desecrate their victims. 

And that is exactly the argument that Jonathan Mayberry makes in this surprisingly insightful series.

Elysium: Fighting For Paradise

According to Brittanica Online,

"Elysium, also called Elysian Fields or Elysian Plain, in Greek mythology, originally the paradise to which heroes on whom the gods conferred immortality were sent... In Homer’s writings the Elysian Plain was a land of perfect happiness at the end of the earth.. In the earlier authors, only those specially favored by the gods entered Elysium and were made immortal."

In Neill Blomkamp's latest incarnation of this story, the "specially favored" are not heroes at all; they are, however, extremely wealthy. When the earth went to environmental and political hell in an overcrowded hand basket, the 1% built a bourgeois paradise in space, leaving the 99% on a decrepit earth to gaze longingly at the home of their betters. The rich got everything money could buy: perfect health, longevity, luxury and ease. Those left behind inherited a hard life that creates harder people, and the camera does not look away (see Focus on the Family's review for more detail on the relentless portrayal of very fallen world). 

As far as social, economic and political commentary go, Elysium is intended to be a sci-fi parable of health care and immigration in much the same way Blomkamp's disturbing District 9 dealt with racism. It's caricatured class warfare and naive revolution are a distraction at best and dishonest at worst, but they will certainly generate discussion about the morality of wealth disparity.

I am more interested in Max.

"The Wolverine": Of Dark Roads, Monsters And Men

"The great battle, I always thought with Wolverine, is the battle within himself."  - Hugh Jackman, aka Wolverine

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Since the disastrous events at the end of the last X-Men film, Logan (aka Wolverine) has retreated into the woods, living a life of solitude among the another animals. His past haunts him every night as the ghost of the woman he both loved and killed lingers. He's a Ronin, a samuri without a master and thus without a cause. Even worse, he's basically immortal, and the events of the past promise a future full of ruin and despair.

I left The Wolverine with mixed emotions (you'll see why in a moment). I ran an early version of my review past a good friend, Karl Meszaros, who has made appearances on this blog before. He knows the Marvel mythology behind Wolverine far better than I do, and he completely disagreed with my reaction to the film. Rather than rewriting my review, I have decided to post both: my response as a casual fan of the X-Men movies, and his insight as a follower of the Wolverine mythos for quite some time.

Perhaps our opposite reactions are inevitable considering the difference in knowledge about the story; perhaps we simply bring the very disparate circumstances that formed our lives into our analysis. After you have read these two perspectives, I'm interested hearing your response.