Monday, March 25, 2013

Happily never after

Ann Druyan has written the following about Carl Sagan:

When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me - it still sometimes happens - and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don't ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous - not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance....That pure chance could be so generous and so kind....That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time....That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful....The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don't think I'll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.

Also:

Now Carl's fever raged. I kept kissing him and rubbing my face against his burning, unshaven cheek. The heat of his skin was oddly reassuring. I wanted to do it enough so that his vibrant, physical self would become an indelibly etched sensory memory....I sit surrounded by cartons of mail from people all over the planet who mourn Carl's loss. Many of them credit him with their awakenings. Some of them say that Carl's example has inspired them to work for science and reason against the forces of superstition and fundamentalism. These thoughts comfort me and lift me up out of my heartache. They allow me to feel, without resorting to the supernatural, that Carl lives.

Given Druyan's worldview, love itself is a sort of illusion foisted upon us to achieve the continuation of our species. Shouldn't she refuse to take "refuge" in such an "illusion"? Shouldn't she face the truth head-on, flinty-eyed and stone-faced?

Given Druyan's worldview, not to mention Sagan himself saying stuff like we are nothing more than a collection of atoms, how is Druyan's panegyric for Sagan substantively different than a little child mourning the loss of a sandcastle as the tides wash it away?

What's telling is how Druyan's words expose her longing for that which is lasting and everlasting. She lives knowing all things must end, yet she yearns for more.

Some may think there's an achingly beautiful, enchanting quality to Druyan's words. But to me her words are at best like moss decorating dead wood. Or worse like sirens calling to Odysseus. Where's the allure when the truth steals away life and love? Fairy tales tell of princesses kissing frogs that turn into Prince Charming to wed and live happily ever after. That's enchanting. But how would it be enchanting to learn we're all just frogs, and there's no Prince Charming?

4 comments:

  1. It's always amusing to see atheists try to dress up their tragic meaningless lives in heroic or romantic hooray-words.

    "The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday."

    So I guess if she only had ten years with him that would have been even more important to her?

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  2. I often wonder what goes on in people's heads during the long watches of the night.

    It seems to me that even a moderately thoughtful person must stumble across the realization that you've written about here.

    In the case of Carl Sagan's 3rd wife's musings, I tend to think that she's a partisan who's come across these problems prefers to overlook them. She'll paper them over with presumtive, maudlin statements about love and wonder and hope that everyone (including herself) will play along.

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  3. I don't remember eternal being part of the definition of love.
    This piece of vitriol lacks content. If your only literary substance is composed of hateful blind assertions then you might want to keep it to yourself to prevent embarrassing yourself.

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  4. This reminds me of the song 100 Years by Five for Fighting. The tune is very catchy but it gives the false impression that one should expect to live to 100 years old when the truth is that we could die at any age before 100. In fact, most people don't even reach the age of 70 or 80. That being the case, middle age is really more like past 35 years old. In a materialist world there's nothing further to hope for if (as the song says) "... you only have a hundred years to live."

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