The chapter for next week about the embodiment of death – in terms of finding ground between the ‘body’ and the ‘self’ – resonated with me for various reasons. One of the biggest things I noticed was the unwillingness to deny that a person’s identity has left the body after death, which is a theme that has become prominent in various science fiction stories. Iconic characters such as the vampire or zombie relate the idea that after death we do not have to give up our bodies. Reanimated bodies, such as Frankenstein’s monster, also seem to feed into a belief that the remains of a body can be recycled to create new life (or something similar). Furthermore, the father in Pet Sematary who buried his dead son’s body within the grounds that were known to reanimate bodies did so to cling to the fact that his son would return once again after identity and body united.
These representations in literature and media walk a line between trying to beat death and keeping claim over your body, but ultimately there is something in the characters that lacks humanness. Vampires, zombies, Frankenstein’s monster, and the little dead boy from Pet Sematary all lost their identities after death and were changed completely. Something about the mysterious nature of death – one that we cannot completely have knowledge about, yet we all will experience – feeds into these representations of bodies that face the unknown. The characters definitely find an imbalance between the ‘self’ and ‘body’ being continuously connected, but for the most part these characters illuminate a world where bodies are meat and fodder. Identity may change after the cross between life and death, but the body will withstand composition (albeit disfigured and sutured, I suppose).
Oh, these are such good points, and now I want to think about what the rise in zombies in pop culture says about where we’re at as a culture. Hmm.
Argh- now I’m going to have the Ramones’ “Pet Sematary” stuck in my head all night! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3J0iwwsq-w
But seriously.
Your point about the intentionally reanimated characters in Frankenstein and Pet Sematary put me in mind of a story from This American Life a few years back where they spoke with a man who had a clone made of his beloved Brahman bull, named Chance, after its death. He fully believed that the cloned version of Chance (named Second Chance- no, really) would be just like the original bull. The man and his wife projected all of Chance’s behaviors onto Second Chance, and really believed that he was, in the end, the same animal. This feeling continued even after the day Second Chance gored the man who loved him so much. (somewhat ironically, the most severe injury was to the man’s testicles)
A wiser person than me once said that our funerals are not for us, they are for other people. Especially open casket funerals- we want to see that person “at peace,” which implies “whole.” But also, isn’t there always that secret hope that no one wants to admit to- that the person in the casket will spring up and greet us, fresh as a daisy? What I’m getting at is that there is a greed in all of us, I think, that makes us not want to let loved ones go, and I can’t help but wonder if the technology exacerbates it instead of making it easier. We are constantly presented with the wonders of medical science, and the possibility of extended life. In the end, isn’t it natural to want technology to make that next leap, to bring back our loved ones? And maybe that’s what really drives those in the article who don’t want organ donation to take place- because they want their loved one “whole,” just in case…
You can listen to the This American Life story here (it’s Act 2): http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/291/reunited-and-it-feels-so-good