Announcing the official publication of Literary Lost: Viewing Television through the Lens of Literature by Sarah Clarke Stuart.
To purchase the book click here
The Publication Party
Please join us for a celebration and book signing.
When: 7:00pm, Wednesday, February 2, 2011
(part of downtown Jacksonville’s Artwalk)
Where: Chamblin’s Uptown, 215 N. Laura Street, Jacksonville, Florida
I’m so pleased to share these positive reviews for my upcoming book, Literary Lost. To pre-order the book, see the link to Amazon below.
“I did not need to be convinced that the recently completed Lost was a series of great complexity and depth, one of the most narratively rich in the history of the medium, but I was not prepared to discover the Lost Sarah Clarke Stuart discovers in this important and insightful book. By diving deeper than any critic has to-date into Lost’s intertextuality, by asking questions nobody so far had thought to ask, Stuart not only takes our understanding of a small-screen masterwork to a whole new level; she also builds ready-to-be crossed bridges between one-time adversaries: literature and television.”
– David Lavery, co-author of Lost’s Buried Treasures
“I’ve been arguing for decades that not only is television not inimical to literacy, it is a great ally of reading. Sarah Clarke Stuart’s Literary Lost provides a brilliant, meticulous, soaring and satisfying proof of that proposition. Her tour-de-force analysis examines the roles of nearly a hundred books in Lost, ranging from the Holy Qu’run to the Wizard of Oz. The television series had highs and lows of narrative; Stuart’s work has only highs, and is destined to become a classic in television studies.”
– Paul Levinson, author of New New Media, and The Plot to Save Socrates
As most fans know by now, the season six collection and the full collection have been released on DVD and Blu-ray. For those of you interested in delving deeper into the literature and theology of Lost, check out the Lost University Master’s Program where courses such as “the Building Blocks of Storytelling” and “Redemption and the Afterlife” are featured. You’ll see that I am one of the “professors.” Also, my soon-to-be-published book, Literary Lost, is on the reading list for one of the classes. Here’s a link to a description of one of the lit courses, LIT 601.
I have spent the last month or so completely immersed in finishing my book manuscript for Literary Lost. Now that I’m done I can post here on a regular basis again, returning with book recommendations and the occasional commentary on the final season.
A Recommendation: The Island of Dr. Moreau
Though I don’t cover it much in my book, this brief H.G. Wells novel is a new favorite of mine. For “Lost readers” wading waist-high in book titles, I would recommend this one as a priority read. With its central plot revolving around a mad scientist and his frankensteinian drive to create life, it doesn’t readily lend itself to a comparison to the show (besides the fact that it is set on a strange, uncharted island). But one passage that strikes me as relevant reflects a broader theme of the human condition in the confines of civilization and social life. The following line recalls the frequent description of Lost‘s island as a “microcosm of life”:
“A strange persuasion came upon me that…I had here before me the whole balance of human nature in miniature form, the whole interplay of instinct, reason and fate in its simplest form” (149).
The creatures that Dr. Moreau “humanizes” are destined for a crueler fate than brute animal life; they are bound to an existence in which they must “stumble in the shackles of humanity.” Moreau is the god of these creatures, but even he is subject to the limitations of animal life. As the castaway narrator eventually concludes, “A blind fate, a vast pitiless mechanism, seemed to cut and shape the fabric of existence” (150).
In a way, this is also Lost‘s conclusion. Though the central characters are redeemed in a spiritual sense, most of them suffer greatly as a result of their own physical fragility and the calculated forces of other human beings. They face brutal deaths as they are hunted down not only by the Smoke Monster, but by one another. Naomi, Sayid, Daniel,Jack, Charles Widmore, Dogen, Charlie–these characters “stumbling in the shackles of humanity” find their doom in the “pitiless mechanism” of both the violence of the wilderness and the cruelty of human nature.
“Let no one build walls to divide us
Walls of hatred nor walls of stone
Come greet the dawn and stand beside us
We’ll live together or we’ll die alone”
Billy Bragg,“The Internationale”
The last 15 minutes of the finale left me speechless. Mostly, I was surprised by my own reaction. Typically, I’m turned off by anything so blatantly sentimental, but I was sincerely moved, awed by the emotional power of those last few scenes, which were intensified even more by the subtle tenderness of Vincent’s entrance. I realize that, despite my recent criticism of everything Lost, from hokey dialogue to implausible motives, I still feel a deep connection to these characters. Much has already been said about how the finale, and the series in general, is fundamentally a character-driven story. But it wasn’t just the individual personal dramas that moved me; it was the return of a few very fundamental themes, most notably, redemption through community. Emotional interdependency and salvation through a communion with others drives this episode and, arguably, the entire narrative.
—Christian Shephard
Jack’s transformation from doubting Thomas to savior was compelling by itself. He journeyed from being a reluctant leader to a prodigal son and, finally, a man of faith. From there, he was able to see that he had a purpose, that there was an order to the universe and that he was chosen to protect it from chaos. As Damon Lindelof said in an interview and I will paraphrase here, the metaphysical conflict has shifted from faith versus reason to order versus chaos. The Smoke Monster threatened to destroy everything and send them “all to hell,” as Isabella (Richard’s wife) told Hurley. Granted, we did not get an explicit answer about what exactly would happen, but we can assume that by destroying the monster, Kate and Jack might have very well saved the world, and that whatever Jack did with the giant cork, he preserved the island. Jack did all of this selflessly; he served as the sacrificial lamb for all of humanity.
Jack’s Redemption
Jack became a willing participant of an extraordinary community, a kind of microcosm of the world, and worked with this group to shift the paradigm of the island. He had to accept, not only his role as a leader, but his function as savior. Quite literally, he did all of this “in communion” with others. So it was not only Jack that was redeemed, but everyone who cooperated in the greater cause. And they all achieved a sort of salvation, or at least authorization to “move on,” by re-assembling the group in the afterlife and by remembering the significance of their lives together. This theme—redemption through community—has arisen throughout the series, most notably in Jack’s “live together, die alone” speech, so it is no surprise that it plays such a crucial role in the resolution of the plot.
It makes sense too, within this context, that Hurley has been appointed as the next Jacob. He understands the value of community and how, if done right, a collaborative effort can elevate human beings. Recall his very first job on the island—to distribute food to the “masses”—and remember the golf course he made to ease the tension within the group and bring them all together. He is clearly in communion with others. What many of us didn’t realize before, including me, is that being in communion with the island is not as important as emotionally connecting to others.
Hurley Organizes a Golf Day
The episode’s inherent message is that social collaboration and emotional engagement are the keys to redemption and a “life after death.” Christian tells Jack that all of his friends have come together “to remember;” they have constructed a shared space together because “No one does it alone.” Like Jesus and the disciples gathered at the last supper for communion, in anticipation of renewal and transcendence, the Lostaways gather to create a place for their own salvation, even if being saved is simply “letting go.” (Remember the “Lost Supper” image?)
Hurley Distributes Food to the Castaways
“When I’m tired and weary
and a long way from home
I reach for Mother Mary
and I shall not walk alone”
—–Blind Boys of Alabama, “I Shall Not Walk Alone”
As the global tribe of Lostians gathers around the flickering light of broadcast television tonight, the anticipation is high. Unlike some fans, I am eager for it to be over, not because I’ve grown tired of the series, but because I can’t wait to work with a complete narrative, to discuss the text in its entirety.
So what do we want from the finale? Well, it’s just a television show, just like any story is “just a story.” What can we expect from fiction? What is the purpose of spinning yarns in the first place? Because anyone who has ever been captivated by a tall tale knows that there is a purpose.
Like all good storytellers, the creative forces behind Lost are expected to enchant us while providing meaning within the narrative, and any good resolution should bring some sort of order to the fictional cosmos that has been established. An ending does not require a list of answers, but it should demonstrate that the central conflicts transpired for a reason. Like Jacob’s fire, the story will soon be extinguished, but its spirit will be preserved through those who choose to protect it, if it is worthy of being protected.
So here’s hoping that the final hours of Lost will simply do what a story is meant to do: delight, entertain and, just maybe, reveal a profound message or two. Happy watching!
Free and open to the public. Please see RSVP information at the bottom of the page.
Get “LOST” For the Night: Scratch Your Head with the Rest of Us with a Series Finale and a Serious Discussion
The series finale of the television series LOST has garnered much attention in the media, and for good reason. For years the show has been hailed as groundbreaking, criticized for redundancy and trite storytelling, and dismissed as too complicated in its plot. Not surprisingly, for seven years LOST has been a centerpiece for “watercooler” talk .
With the series “finale” at hand, we invite you to attend a discussion of the cultural and literary impact of LOST. We also invite interested parties to present their readings of the significance of the show, with particular attention paid to the potential “reverberations” the show will have.
The “conversations” will take place on the UNF campus on Wednesday, May 26, from 5:00 – 10:00 pm. The order of events:
5:30 – 6:00, scholarship panel
6:00 – 7:00 discussion and refreshment
7:00 – 9:00, the series finale
9:00 – 10:00, a group discussion
Help us as we say farewell to a show and greet a field of inquiry in popular culture studies.
Please RSVP to englishdept@unf.edu by Wednesday, May 19, if you plan to attend.
Please forward panel/presentation proposals to lhowell@unf.edu by Friday, May 14.
This is an entry that I posted a couple of days ago but, in light of the new promo, I have something to add. The promo’s music, Jim Morrison’s “The End,” is another nod to Apocalypse Now in which the song serves as a compelling backdrop for the film’s most significant scene (no spoilers here but if you want to view the scene, a very graphic one containing explicit language, mind you, click to see a youtube clip)
Here are a couple of stanzas that are interesting when interpreted through a “Lost lens” and the lyrics in their entirety are provided at the bottom of this posting.
“This is the end, beautiful friend/This is the end, my only friend/The end of our elaborate plans/The end of everything that stands/The end
The killer awoke before dawn/He put his boots on/He took a face from the ancient gallery/And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived/And then he paid a visit to his brother/And then he walked on down the hall/And he came to a door/And he looked inside/Father?/Yes son/I want to kill you/Mother, I want to………….”
–Jim Morrison
And now begins my original “Apocalyptic Heart of Darkness” bit:
“The wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance for the fantastic
invasion. I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude–and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core” –Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness
Young Locke's prophetic rendering of the Smoke Monster
The corruptibility of the human soul is a central theme of both Heart of Darkness and Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 movie, Apocalypse Now. The latter is a loose interpretation of Conrad’s novella but set in a very different time and place. Both stories prefigure Lost’s concern with the nature of evil and the tension between wilderness and civilization, isolation and community.
So is Lost an updated interpretation of Heart of Darkness emerging from yet another medium and genre, the television drama? Probably not. If we’ve learned anything about Lost’s vast array of literary and pop culture references it’s that, taken individually, they act like red herrings, leading us down narrow, winding trails to nowhere; yet they always provide a deeper understanding of the show’s themes and characters. Taken together they help to expand the meaning of the show, which is sometimes a great relief when meaning within the text seems a little thin.
But I find it particularly interesting that a recent promotional trailer featured the famous lines of Conrad’s novel, probably even more familiar to modern viewers as the dialogue from Apocalypse Now: “The horror, the horror.” In fact, the entire promo was centered around this and another line from Heart of Darkness. The short clip shows John Locke, the smoke monster, marching towards some of Widmore’s men with a menacing expression on his face while the words on the bottom of the screen read “His soul had gone mad. Being alone in the wilderness.” Here is the full passage from the novel: “But his soul was mad. Being alone in the wilderness, it had looked within itself, and, by heavens! I tell you, it had gone mad. I had–for my sins, I suppose–to go through the ordeal of looking into it myself. No eloquence would have been so withering to one’s belief in mankind as his final burst of sincerity. He struggled with himself, too. I saw it,–I heard it. I saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet struggling blindly with itself.”
Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now
An excerpt of dialogue from the film Apocalypse Now shows an even more explicit study of the struggle between good and evil. Before General Corman sends Willard on his mission to find Colonel Kurtz, a man engaging in horrendous acts of violence against the native people, he warns him of the limits of the human spirit: ” There’s conflict in every human heart between the rational and the irrational, between good and evil. The good does not always triumph. Sometimes the dark side overcomes what Lincoln called the better angels of our nature. Every man has got a breaking point….Walter Kurtz has reached his. And very obviously he has gone insane.”
This is one way to look at evil—as insanity, beyond the pale of anything rational. Is this what the Smoke Monster embodies? Pure madness? For certain, we know Claire has been left in the wilderness and reached her breaking point. Sayid was pushed over the edge by his own actions and the inability to forgive himself. And Ben, the original bad guy, has always exhibited signs of mental instability. Perhaps the Smoke Monster’s plan works this way: the more “mad souls” that he recruits, the stronger he becomes. The apocalypse will come to pass one “infected” spirit at a time.
“The End” by Jim Morrison
(Featured in the 1979 film Apocalypse Now)
This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of ev’rything that stands
The end
No safety or surprise
The end
I’ll never look into your eyes again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of
some strangers hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
There’s danger on the edge of town
Ride the king’s highway
Weird scenes inside the goldmine
Ride the highway West baby
Ride the snake
Ride the snake
To the lake
To the lake
The ancient lake baby
The snake is long
Seven miles
Ride the snake
He’s old
And his skin is cold
The west is the best
The west is the best
Get here and we’ll do the rest
The blue bus is calling us
The blue bus is calling us
Driver, where you taking us?
The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived
And then he paid a visit to his brother
And then he walked on down the hall
And he came to a door
And he looked inside
Father?
Yes son
I want to kill you
Mother, I want to………….
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus
This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end
It hurts to set you free
But you’ll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end
A university-sponsored event, free and open to the public
Series Finale Re-watch and Discussion on May 26th
The series finale of the television series LOST has garnered much attention in the media, and for good reason. For years the show has been hailed as groundbreaking, criticized for redundancy and trite storytelling, and dismissed as too complicated in its plot. Not surprisingly, for seven years LOST has been a centerpiece for “watercooler” talk .
With the series “finale” at hand, we invite you to attend a discussion of the cultural and literary impact of LOST. We also invite interested parties to present their readings of the significance of the show, with particular attention paid to the potential “reverberations” the show will have.
The “conversations” will take place on the University of North Florida campus in Jacksonville, FL on Wednesday, May 26, from 5:00 – 10:00 pm.
The order of events:
5:30 – 6:30, scholarship panel
6:30 – 7:00, refreshment break
7:00 – 9:00, the series finale
9:00 – 10:00, a group discussion
Help us as we say farewell to a show and greet a field of inquiry in popular culture studies.
Please RSVP to englishdept@unf.edu by Wednesday, May 19, if you plan to attend.
Please forward panel/presentation proposals to lhowell@unf.edu by Friday, May 14.
As usual, the Lostaways are doing a terrible job of asking the right questions or insisting on specific answers. And those who evade the inquiries always have the same lines: “It doesn’t matter,” “No time to explain,” etc. I’d like to pin down what kind of threat we’re dealing with here. Someone should demand that Richard explain what he means by “everything being over” if the Smoke Monster were to pull off his escape plan (“Everybody Loves Hugo”). What degree of danger are we talking about?
Simulation of a black hole
What follows here is not so much a theory as an exploration of the “impending oblivion” motif. Imminent doom in the form of nothingness or meaninglessness preoccupies many fantasy novels, science fiction narratives and children’s works of fiction: A Wrinkle in Time, Coraline, The Neverending Story, Haroun and the Sea of Stories and Donnie Darko. In Lost, the stakes seem to be equally high. If we are to believe Charles Widmore and/or Richard Alpert, the Smoke Monster’s escape from the island spells certain oblivion. So the question I would like to pose is this: how is “the end of existence” illustrated in other narratives? What might this mean for the final days of our island adventure?
In the 2001 film Donnie Darko, the threat of eternal nothingness takes the form of a black hole. If one interprets the film as a science fiction story, rather than a psychological thriller about a schizophrenic teen, the basic premise of the story is this: A Tangent Universe has been created and will collapse on itself in 28 days. According to the tenets of the fictional Philosophy of Time Travel (a device used by the screenwriter to establish the rules), the collapsed Tangent Universe will create a black hole, taking the Primary Universe with it. The author, Roberta Sparrow, suggests that “If a Tangent Universe occurs, it will be highly unstable…Eventually it will collapse upon itself, forming a black hole within the Primary Universe capable of destroying all existence.” Can this be what Charles Widmore means when he says that if the smoke monster gets off this island “everyone we know and love – would simply cease to be”? Or when Richard Alpert tells Miles that “if that thing gets off the island, it’s over,” and then clarifies by saying “everything” will be over. Is John Locke just the beginning of a black hole, a sort of nothingness that consumes all?
In the film, Donnie is the “Living Receiver” responsible for saving the primary universe by sacrificing himself. Like Desmond, he is a time-traveling hero. Donnie reads a poem in class one day inspired by what he is experiencing: “I will deliver the children back to their doorsteps. (I’ll) send the monsters back to the underground. I’ll send them back to a place where no one else can see them.” Donnie Darko is actually an interesting text to interpret the workings of Lost and I’m certainly not the first to notice the similarities between the film and the series. Others have drawn out the comparisons in much greater detail. Here is one of the more thorough readings: http://www.losttv-forum.com/forum/showthread.php?p=2153769 I like these Donnie Darko theories; after all, the last line of The Philosophy of Time Travel is telling: “We are told that these things occur for a reason.”
Frank the time-traversing bunny from Donnie Darko (think Geronimo Jackson album cover)
The Neverending Story, a German children’s novel, popularized in the 1980’s through its film adaptation, features a parallel universe, of sorts, to illustrate the power of hope, imagination and the creative power of the human spirit. There is a protagonist for each universe: Bastian in the real world and Atreyu in the fictional world, which is aptly named Fantasia or Fantastica. Bastian is portrayed in a realistic setting with a storyline and conflict of his own (his mother recently died; his father is in despair). But he becomes involved in the other universe when he reads about Atreyu’s adventures in a magic book titled The Neverending Story. The nemesis in the story is simply called “The Nothing” and its threat is no less than the obliteration of all Fantastica. It symbolizes a growing emptiness in the human heart. Atreyu is a young warrior charged with triumphing over The Nothing. Bastian enters the world of Fantastica to help Atreyu fight the war and returns with the “Water of Life,” a symbol of spiritual strength. He is told that “There are just a few who go to Fantastica and come back…and they make both worlds well again.” The wise but curmudgeonly old book shop owner, Mr. Coreander, says to Bastian “you will show many others the way to Fantastica, and they will bring us the Water of Life.” By helping to ward off the Nothing, Bastian saves Fantastica and is able to traverse back to his own world, where he can continue fighting against the forces of meaninglessness and emptiness, first by curing his own father’s depression.
Face of the impending "Nothing" in the film adaptation of The Neverending Story
In A Wrinkle in Time (Madeleine L’Engle), an “official Lost book,” there looms a similar malevolent force, “The Black Thing,” described as a dark cloud. With their friend Calvin, Meg and Charles Wallace travel through space and time to rescue their father, a time-traveling scientist who has been captured by dark forces. They find him on Camazotz, a mind-controlling planet where all of the inhabitants are hypnotized under the spell. The Black Thing’s effect is taking over the universe and already partially covers the earth. Meg, the heroine of the story, learns how to defeat it through love and human connection with her family.
In Neil Gaimen’s children’s novel, Coraline (2002), the “Other Mother’s” domain is surrounded by endless blank space. Again, we are dealing with parallel worlds, one that is realistic and ordinary, the other fantastic and dangerous. Initially, Coraline finds the world beyond the fourteenth door of their family’s home perfect. The food is better and the parents (the Other parents) give her more attention. But she soon realizes that the Other home is ruled by dark forces and that the Other Mother has been capturing and imprisoning children for a long time. Coraline must save them. One day she is taking a walk out of doors in the Other universe and finds herself lost in what seems to be an empty canvas. “The world she was walking through was a pale nothingness, like a blank sheet of paper or an enormous empty white room. It had no smell, no taste, no texture.” “Nothing to find here,” the cat tells Coraline, “This is just the outside, the part of the place she hasn’t bothered to create.” Again, a lack of creative power is the problem and the villain is responsible for oppressing the innocent and destroying hope.
Desmond reading Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories
In Haroun and the Sea of Stories, the death of imagination is a central concern and the repression of creativity is illustrated in the form of dark forces attempting to poison the “Sea of Stories.” Haroun’s father, a storyteller, has lost his gift of yarn-spinning and the father and son duo travel to Earth’s second moon to help reclaim his powers. Two societies live on this moon; one lives in complete light and the other in complete darkness. The dark side wants to poison the Sea of Stories and dampen the imaginative forces behind the power of storytellers. But Haroun helps protect the magical waters: “…even though he was full of a sense of hopelessness and failure, the magic of the Ocean began to have an effect on Haroun.” Again, in this story the child saves the father and the family’s original world is restored.
Will a black hole be created if the smoke monster isn’t restrained? Is he the Nothing? Will dark blankness settle over the entire universe if he is released from the island? (If so, then, why?)Let’s not forget last week’s Wonka-inspired promo: “Not a speck of light is showing/So the danger must be growing”
The nothing, the smoke monster, a black hole, a gaping chasm swallowing up all of existence– they all represent our fear of complete emptiness or, at a more abstract level, the oblivion of imagination and the human spirit. As Jacob says in “Ab Aeterno,” “There’s many other names for it too: malevolence, evil, darkness. And here it is, swirling around in the bottle, unable to get out because if it did, it would spread. The cork is this island and it’s the only thing keeping the darkness where it belongs.”
Lost: A Transmedia Story 