LOST Discoveries
LOST:
Created
by: Jeffery Lieber, J.J. Abrams and Damon Lindelof
Air
date: Wednesday, February 15th, 2006
ONE
OF THEM: If you’re not with us…
A Soulful Spike Society Review
One of
Them: If you’re not with us...
Well,
one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so that I couldn’t
come down again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air struck
it and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night I traveled
through the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the
balloon floating over a strange and beautiful country.
~The Wizard of Oz
We
have met the enemy and he is us. ~Walt
Kelly
Forget a
torturer: what this island needs is an
English major. If not that, then a
movie buff or a trivia geek—anyone who might recognize some of the allusions
and illusions the Others seem so damn fond of.
Heck, even Walt might have noticed upon meeting a man with the same name
as Dorothy’s uncle that Sayid’s buddy Henry Gale just happened to crash on the
island using the same mode of transportation that landed the future Wizard
squarely in Oz. But not our intrepid
castaways. Maybe if a house had fallen
on them...
At any
rate, the issue of otherness was obviously front and center throughout the
episode, as just about every storyline we saw prominently featured some
variation of the “us vs. them” theme: Sayid and Tariq vs. the Americans, Sayid
and the Americans vs. Tariq, Sawyer vs. the tree frog (and, to a certain
extent, Hurley), Sayid and Locke vs. Henry, and the ongoing castaways vs. the
Others conflict.
As I
thought about this episode and the process of deciding someone is “other,” one
of the things that popped into my head was Orson Scott Card’s hierarchy of
exclusion with its four levels of foreignness in Speaker for the Dead: utlänning,
a stranger who is human but lives in another city or land; framling, a
stranger who is human but from another world; raman, a stranger we
recognize as human but of another species; and varelse, the true alien,
with whom communication is impossible.
More important, though, was the assertion made at the beginning of Speaker’s
first chapter: “the difference between
raman and varelse is not in the creature judged, but in the creature judging.
When we declare an alien species to be raman, it does not mean that they have
passed a threshold of moral maturity. It means that we have.” Put another way, the difference between
inclusion and otherness rests largely on our ability to empathize with the
being in question—to recognize and relate to someone else’s feelings and
actions from having seen the same thing in ourselves. If we do, they’re one of
us. If not, if either their actions or
our own make us unable or unwilling to acknowledge there is a bit of ourselves
in them, then that’s what the person remains—one of them.
Indeed,
this episode demonstrates the ways in which humans make conscious choices as to
who is and is not a part of their community, be it a physical community or an
emotional one—most noticeably as we watch Sayid’s twin stories unfold. When we first saw Sayid, it was clear that
his loyalty was with Tariq; to Sayid, Tariq was one of “us” as Sayid defined
it: a fellow Iraqi, a comrade-in-arms, someone to stand with against the
American invasion. Inman, our presumed
CIA spook, recognized this and knew that the only way he could get Sayid to
harm Tariq was by inducing him to remove Tariq from his inner definition of
“us” and re-categorize his commanding officer as one of “them.” The easiest way to do this? By showing Sayid Tariq’s crime against those
who were a much deeper and more integral part of Sayid’s emotional community
than Tariq was: the friends and neighbors Sayid grew up with. Suddenly Tariq was no longer one of “us”—he
was “that person” who’d done this horrible thing to “us.” He was now “other.” And if human history teaches us anything,
it’s that while we may sometimes hurt the ones we love, we’re capable of doing
truly hideous things to the people we perceive of as “them.” So with that one step of remove that is the
difference between seeing a human being as “us” or “them,” torturing Tariq went
from inconceivable to a necessary evil.
In
Henry’s case, it wasn’t so much about Sayid making that switch in perception—it
was a matter of his ability to maintain it. Even if Sayid weren’t already
inclined to mistrust any stranger he met, Rousseau constantly referred to Henry
as “one of them” after bringing Sayid to where Henry was trapped, making it
more than likely that Sayid had already put his mental check mark next to
“them” before he’d even begun carrying Henry back to the camp. Throughout the interrogation Sayid spoke and
behaved in ways designed to reinforce the emotional distance that kept Henry
firmly ensconced on the “other” side of Sayid’s mental line, starting with the
simple gesture of tying his hair back; once he’s done that, suddenly he's no
longer Sayid, the man who crashed on the island—he was the short-haired kid who
was handed a box and told to uncover a secret. He was Sayid Jarrah, a torturer,
capable of doing whatever it took to protect his community from “them.” He asked questions requiring specific,
factual answers, both to try and catch Henry in a lie and to keep him from
sharing anything—like, say, a description of what his first night on the island
was like—that might inspire a commensurate emotional response and thus shift
Henry out of the “them” column and onto the “us” side.
However,
after Jack had brought an end to the interrogation and it was just him, Sayid,
and Locke talking, Jack reminded Sayid of an important point: Rousseau once
thought Sayid was one of the Others, that he was raman instead of
a framling. And it was only because Sayid managed to connect with her,
to tell her about Nadia and establish a fragile bond of empathy, that he was
able to get her to reclassify him in her mind. Locke said much the same thing,
although being Locke he of course had to sound like a freshman in a philosophy
course: we’re all others to someone else. Then again, Locke didn’t hesitate to
help Sayid deceive Jack so he could have some quality alone time with Henry, so
I’m not sure I’m gonna give Locke’s opinion much weight this time around.
Meanwhile,
a few more questions that came to mind as I considered the episode:
Then
there’s the B story: the tale of Sawyer, Hurley and the tree frog. As we are
all well aware, the Lost writers never throw in anything simply for
filler. So why show Sawyer stalking and killing a wee little frog? It could
simply be that they wanted to reinforce the “don’t forget—Sawyer is a bad, bad
man” message from a week ago, and let’s face it: do we really think Sawyer
wanted to find the frog so they could commiserate about how it’s not easy being
mean?
But as a
friend pointed out to me, Sawyer’s actions also mirror Sayid’s in a very
crucial way: both were seeking to reassert their sense of control in their
worlds. For Sawyer, it was pretty simple. Noise bothering you? Find the source
and end it. Accidentally reveal a little of your soft underbelly to Hurley?
Squash any inkling of weakness right along with the frog. For Sayid, it was a little more complicated.
Remember, as the show’s timeline goes Sayid has seen an old friend blow his
brains out from mere inches away, lost his second chance with Nadia, survived a
plane crash, broken his vow never to torture again, been tortured himself,
heard whispers in the woods, seen backwards-talking Walt, and watched Shannon
die in his arms minutes after declaring his love for her—all within the space
of two months. I think there’s every chance that, despite his fairly steady
outward demeanor, the man is most likely on tilt.
However,
when it was just Sayid and Henry in that room, Sayid was in an environment
where he was in absolute control. He dictated the conversation. He decided when
and how Henry would feel pain. He determined what was truth and what was
falsehood. And it was Sayid who decided to go directly to torture—his
forte—skipping Go, the 200 dollars, and any alternatives the average person
would try first. I mean, think about it: did the first option when it came to
questioning Henry have to be torture?
Frankly, I think I’d start by sitting him down with Sawyer and Kate and
using our resident con artists to try and suss out the truth—after all, their
professions require them to be adept at reading people, and if anyone’s going
to recognize a confidence man it’s gonna be a fellow grifter. Not to mention
that given the many references to books and movies that pepper Sawyer’s everyday
conversations, he’s probably the castaway most likely to pick up on the Wizard
of Oz motif in Henry’s story. So I
have to wonder: did Sayid torture Henry because he felt he had to in order to
get the truth, or because he could?
Let’s not
forget the highly entertaining mini-showdown between Locke and Jack. Over the past few weeks we’ve watched them
struggle to work together, searching for some sense of balance but constantly
undermining themselves through their own actions: Jack tends to decide on a
course of action and expect Locke to fall in line, while Locke maneuvers behind
the scenes and appears to be a big fan of the “it’s easier to ask forgiveness
than permission” principle. In this episode, the rift between them took on
Grand Canyon-esque proportions; Jack was rightly pissed over Locke’s decision
to facilitate Sayid’s interrogation, while Locke was just as justified in
calling him on having established an army on the side. Usually their conflicts seem to end with
Locke gaining or holding the upper hand, but this time Jack had an unexpected
bit of leverage to work with: a ticking clock and Locke’s awareness that their
resident skeptic was almost assuredly not bluffing. Faced with standing on principle or adhering to his beliefs, it
came as little surprise that Locke chose his belief in the island over any
loyalty to Sayid.
Which
leads me to that tantalizing glimpse we got of what will happen if those 108
minutes pass with nary a digit in sight: or at least that whatever takes place
starts with lots of rumbling and some Egyptian hieroglyphs. By now most folks have heard that the
hieroglyphs were one symbol away from a sequence meaning “cause to die,” an
interesting message to say the least.
Are we meant to presume that the island was saying “yep, now you’ve done
it—you’re toast. Happy trails!”? Yet
doesn’t logic dictate that any message meant to actually be understood by
another person would be in a form the average Joe would have a chance of
recognizing? Cripes, even Klingon would have had a better chance of being
deciphered than hieroglyphs. So I suspect the ‘glyphs were all about the
intimidation factor, a final bit of weirdness meant to cause any potential
rebel to change their “let’s see what’ll happen” stance to more of a “how fast
can I type” demeanor. Especially since it takes a goodly amount of time for all
those tumbling images to fall into place, providing more of a “just in case you
change your mind” delay than I’d expect from any self-respecting
countdown-to-disaster machine.
At any
rate, I suspect we’re far from finished when it comes to examining the issue of
otherness and the ways in which who is and is not an “other” is almost entirely
a question of perception: expand that perception and you expand your community,
narrow your definition of who is with “us” and who is an “other” and your
circle gets smaller even as your enemies increase in number. In fact, it would appear the castaways are
demonstrating that very principle: the longer they’re on the island the
narrower the castaways’ definition of “us” becomes. To a certain extent this is understandable, given the behavior of
the capital “O” Others—they appear to have stricter inner circle entrance
criteria than the Freemasons. But last season, as you’ll recall, Locke spoke to
Boone about those they wanted on “their” side, and it appears that now we do
indeed have factions forming among the castaways. First Sawyer and now Sayid
appear to question having Locke and Jack in charge, and both have reached out
to Charlie to share their discontent—a particularly interesting development
given how we’ve recently seen all three men regress into darker, less
flattering perceptions of themselves.
Jack and Ana have the army they’re building, with those they’ve excluded
sounding none too happy about it. And
we’re already getting the sense that Eko and Locke will inevitably clash over
matters of faith and fate.
But
ultimately, I’m thinking the stage is being set for a future reckoning between
two camps, the beginnings of which we’re already beginning to see, representing
two antithetical philosophies. On the one side you’ve got folks like Sawyer,
Sayid, Charlie and (at times) Locke, those who increasingly feel the only law
that matters is the proverbial law of the jungle. On the other, people like
Jack, Hurley, and Eko who strive to abide by the same mores and constraints on
their behavior as they did when they were back in civilization. Or, put a
slightly different way, we may be looking at a showdown between the astronauts
and the cavemen (waitaminute…. maybe Wolfram
and Hart brought the plane down.
Hey, don’t laugh—for starters, “Wolfram and Hart” can be anagrammed into
“Dharma Law Front.” No, really. Maybe all roads really do lead back to
Joss...).
Lord
of the Flies time,
indeed...
Author’s
note: This time around, I have Rachael
to thank for helping me start to sort through some of the questions and themes
of this episode. Without our conversation,
I might still be flailing away in front of a blank document.
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