We’ve been asking for a few episodes now, “What happened to Sawyer?” A Sawyer-centric episode gives us some help on that. I’m also thinking that Jack Bauer needs to stroll on over to the island and shout, “WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!” It’s another episode that’s long on mysteries and short on answers. Spoilers below.

Sawyer is, as usual, playing all sides for the purpose of meeting his own personal goals. But we know there’s far more to Sawyer than that. He’s more complex, and under his exterior of selfishness is something far deeper, more meaningful, more human. He plays double-agent to get himself off the island, but when the time comes to sit back and watch how the Widmore/Locke conflict plays out, he goes to Kate, and says, “You and me are getting off this island.”

A few items that struck me as important in this episode:

Locke: While there was plenty of fuel for speculation that Flocke/Smocke might still be the good guy, I think we have here an episode full of both blatant lies by Locke, as well as some very subtle ones. Smocke tells lies and admits to telling lies to Claire. He also spins a tale of a crazy-mommy-issues, which made him the mad Smoke monster he is today, to Kate, and proceeds to tell her that Aaron now has a crazy mommy. But two things are of note: Smocke is likely the one who made Claire crazy in the first place, and Claire’s breakdown at the end says to me that the “darkness” that has reached her heart is not irreversible. Redemption is possible for Claire, which means it’s also possible for Sayid (who’s spending most of his time now with that very serious, menacing look that’s permanently painted on the faces of all the bad guys on 24.)

Sawyer: The flash-sideways is fascinating, because we simply have Sawyer in the opposite career with the same goal: Kill Sawyer/Cooper. I love the line he gives Charlotte: “I was at the point where I could have become a criminal or a cop. So I chose to become a cop.” There’s that “choice” theme again, but Sawyer is still driven by the same pursuit of revenge. His date night with Charlotte is interesting and highlights one of the problems with Sawyer: He needs grace, and there aren’t a lot of people willing to give it. Ironic that the “C.S. Lewis” character is the one who denies Sawyer grace and understanding. “You blew it.” Three very harsh and final words. And this is why the Sawyer/Kate pairing is not yet out of the question. Kate remains the only person who really gets Sawyer. And as Jack becomes more a “man of faith” each time we see him, I may be eating my words with the prediction that it’d be Jack/Kate, with Sawyer becoming the new Jacob.

A few more observations and thoughts:

• I loved that it was Little House on the Prairie that delivered to Sawyer a message of the dead never leaving us.
• Widmore’s back on the scene, but I’m thinking Eloise Hawking is going to be a bigger key to this plot than Widmore. We’ll see her again. And where’s Desmond? He’s also going to be a bigger deal than they’ve let on so far.
• Not much by way of answers this episode. But next week looks like a great big pile of them. Finally, an episode about Richard. I’m thrilled about next week’s episode.
• A final “what if”: What if substitutes are needed for both Jacob and Smokey? What if Smokey is attempting Sayid or Claire to be the new Smokey? What if on the final episode, Widmore has founded a new band of Others, the new Jacob is Jack, and the new Smokey is Sayid? Unlikely, but I’m throwing it out there for discussion.

Related Posts

• LOST: “Dr. Linus”
• LOST: “Sundown” (You better take care…)
• LOST in a Mirror
• LOST: Smocke’s New Loophole
• LOST and Found: “What Kate Does”

Dr. Linus, tell me what’s wrong
You’re enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow
You were always sure of yourself
Now I’ve seen you’ve broken a feather
–Chiquitita by Abba

Ah, how the mighty have fallen. Ben Linus, former ruthless Leader of the Others, has broken more than a feather; Big Bird has been plucked and is digging his own grave.

In the Sideways story, we’re thrown to a scent with S/Ben Linus, PhD, resplendent in tacky sweater vests and a Napoleonic hairstyle, teaching that Napoleon would have been better off dead than stripped of his power. Yet Dr. Linus is a kind man who runs a history club and longs for better priorities in his school. After gazing at himself in the mirror of his microwave door, he patiently listens while his old man Roger moans about their brief Island Dharma Days and how Ben missed his potential (how I hate to see you like this). Ben just stuffs his dad with organic Big Bird, er, turkey, and fills his lungs with oxygen instead of poison.

Ben dreams of running his school in a better way than Principal Reynolds, and even has an instigator in substitute S/Locke (discuss: Locke good or bad here?). And he has a substitute daughter in young Alex Rosseau, whom he coaches for Yale. Enraged by her report of rotten Principal Reynold’s sexual impropriety, Ben makes his play to force him out. Reynolds puts a choice before Ben: your reign or Alex’s future. Ben sacrificially chooses Alex, in contrast with Other Ben allowing Alex to die to on the Island. And in this shining, redemptive moment, he is at peace (the sun is still in the sky and shining above you).

Meanwhile, on the Island, Miles informs Ben that Jacob didn’t want to die and hoped Ben wouldn’t kill him, furthering Ben’s despair (all is gone and it seems too hard to handle). Smocke unchains Ben and offers to restore his Island rule–for his allegiance. Racing after Smocke, Ben has a moment-of-truth face-off (there is no way you can deny it) with Ilana. He understands her devotion to and disappointment with Jacob, and distraught, confesses that his own devotion caused him to sacrifice his daughter, for which he’ll never forgive himself (how the heartaches come and they go and the scars they’re leaving). Smocke is the only one who will have him now. In a moment of supreme grace, Ilana says, “I’ll have you.”  They return to the beach, with Ben now part of the castaways (try once more, like you did before, sing a new song, Dr. Linus).

I can see that you’re oh so sad, so quiet
Bad Dads and daddy issues have been a constant theme in Lost. Consider the book Ben finds in Sawyer’s beach library: The Chosen by Chaim Potok, about a Hasidic Reb of a small community, who raises his son (expected to inherit his leadership place) in silence without explanation, with no expressed love or affection, never speaking to him outside their study of the Law. The father only and rarely speaks to his frustrated, angry, and lonely son through his son’s friend. Think the Others (and castaways), destiny, and Jacob, with his distance and remote instructions.

So the walls came tumbling down
And your love’s a blown-out candle
Here we have three of Jacob’s “children”–Ilana (“he was the closest thing to a father I knew. I endured bandages for him and came here for him. Why did he let himself get killed by such a pathetic little twit like Ben Linus and leave me?”); Ben (“I gave everything to him, obeying his instructions, because unlike my own father, he wanted me. I never wanted power, I wanted to feel loved, needed, and important. But he let me get cancer, and sacrifice my daughter, and never once talked to me, which means my whole life is a lie!”); and Richard (“he touched me and gave me a new life and purpose, and now it turns out he never told me the truth about anything. Being touched by Jacob is a complete curse, and now I want to die, so kill me!”). Isn’t Jacob, at least in their eyes, the Ultimate Bad Dad?

You were always sure of yourself
Now I see you’ve broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together….

To hear Chiquitita: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQFDAa7o9aE

Related Posts

• LOST: “Recon”
• LOST: “Sundown” (You better take care…)
• LOST in a Mirror
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Alice is Harry Potter, and Absalom is Dumbledore. Whatever else is going on in this film, and whatever complaints one might have about lack of faithfulness to Carroll’s story, this is a great film for Harry Potter lovers for a simple reason. The entire movie is centered around one question: “Is this real, or is this only happening in my head?”

This is the story of Alice wrestling with the King’s Cross question. Burton set this up nicely by showing us Alice as a young girl, repeatedly having the dream that we all know as Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. This, of course, means that the whole thing is “not real.” Well, if you listened the last Hog’s Head PubCast, you’ll know to be a bit skeptical about the assertion that the imaginary world of dreams cannot tap into reality.

Alice, who is faced with something of an arranged engagement, leaves her suitor at the gazebo to follow the rabbit down the hole, and she’s immediately faced with many of the characters from her dreams. She is brought before Absalom, who must tell them whether or not she is “the right Alice.” He concludes that she is “hardly Alice,” and everyone takes this to mean she’s the wrong one.

What it really means is that Alice is not yet Alice, but she will be Alice when, by the combined power of choice, faith, and imagination, she embraces her true identity. Burton’s Alice is a story about Alice’s use of imagination to understand reality. In other words, this is classic Faerie material, told with stunning and beautiful visual artistry.

This is where Frederica Matthews-Green’s review of the film falls apart. She is not happy that the film is framed with something of a feminist twist – Alice being told by her dad, lovingly, that she’s “bonkers,” but the best people are. And then at the end, she takes over her deceased dad’s business instead of submitting to an arranged marriage. The middle, Matthews-Green says, is a “predictable” Lord of the Rings with a girl.

Well, there are reasons we love The Lord of the Rings, and there are reasons we should hear the story with a heroine as well. So I don’t really get that complaint. But what Matthews-Green is missing most in her understanding of the film is the identity of Alice before and after her journey into Underland, and the imaginative journey from beginning to end.

Alice has no grip on reality or on her own identity prior to the “real” trip down the rabbit hole. All the dream trips are “not real,” for the simple fact that they are dreams. Her plunge down the whole and subsequent journey toward the final battle with the Jabberwocky find her frequently wondering when she’s going to wake up. But a few more conversations with Absalom allow her to begin to understand that there is no dichotomy between “real” and “in my head.” It’s a conversation with Absalom as he forms his cocoon to “die” that finally propels her toward the battle.

The battle with the Jabberwocky is not a battle of strength against strength, or a simple feminist message of female power. Alice defeats the Jabberwocky with one powerful weapon: belief in six impossible things, the 6th of which is that she can kill the Jabberwocky. The first 5 are things that she previously believed were just “in her head” and therefore “not real;” but now she knows better.

The Alice that returns to London is the Harry that returns to Hogwarts: decisive and strong. Contra Matthews-Green’s review, this is not a story about the vindication of being “bonkers” or “mad,” but a story which tells the same thing Carroll told: The mad ones just might be the only sane ones, and that sanity is found in the imagination. Imagination makes Alice more human.

Some quibbles: The March Hare was so out of control and spastic, he wasn’t funny. The Mad Hatter’s Fetterwacking was completely absurd and struck the wrong note; it broke the magic of the movie for the 10 seconds it was happening.

Strengths I haven’t yet mentioned: Helena Bonham Carter’s Red Queen is worth the price of the ticket. Johnny Depp did a great Mad Hatter, with the right balance of craziness and intelligence. Potter fans will recognize two voices: Alan Rickman as Absalom, and Stephen Fry as the Cheshire Cat; both did a fantastic job.

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• Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland
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Our own Araballa Figg had an article on LOST and fantasy published at The Spokesman Review! She’s very kind and quoted me in the article as well.

Read it here!

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Sundown, you better take care
If you find Locke’s been creepin’ ’round your backstairs

Fake Locke is on a roll. Sayid’s story gets crazier. The temple becomes a veritable Temple of Doom. All on episode 6 of the final Season of LOST. Spoilers below!

Fake Locke has been creepin’ ’round the temple’s backstairs, and he’s finally in. Even Gordon Lightfoot couldn’t scare him away at this point. Evil is taking over.

I don’t yet know whether they’re going to give Sayid and Claire a chance at redemption, or if we’ve seen the end of them – that they’re “Lost” for good. I’m hoping the former, even though I haven’t been much of a fan of Sayid’s character since that absurd, forced relationship with Shannon.

Harry Potter fans should have recognized the central temptation in this episode: The desire to again see someone who has passed on – someone you loved, and someone you hurt. Smocke put that carrot out in front of Sayid: Do what I want you to do, and you’ll get to see Nadia again, even though she’s dead. This sounds a lot like Voldemort, this claim to power even over death. It sounds a lot like the Resurrection Stone which killed Dumbledore’s hand.

The flash-sideways gives us Sayid’s fundamental problem in the Nadia situation: he cannot believe he is capable of redemption. He could not be with Nadia, because in his mind, he “doesn’t deserve” her.

In many ways, tonight felt more plot-ending than plot-moving, at least as far as Sayid goes. But I think that’s a misdirection. The last 20 minutes of the show flew by so fast, and so much happened, it almost seemed a bit contrived. But the idea we’re supposed to be picking up here is that Smocke, “evil incarnate,” is taking over quickly. On second thought, I kind of like the way the plot marched right along at the end there.

Smocke as “evil incarnate” verifies – if Dogen is correct with that description – the idea of his being a demon of some kind, and the island (Jacob in particular) being what keeps him trapped and in exile. I think he has to kill or convert all candidates, and then he can be unleashed to the world, with apocalyptic consequences.

The person who finds herself in the most awkward situation now is most definitely Kate. She’s following this band of evil, but she hasn’t been “infected” as far as we know. I don’t think she’s got the first clue what she’s gotten herself into.

By the way, where’s Sawyer? Wasn’t he with Smocke when last we saw him?

Related Posts

• LOST: “Recon”
• LOST: “Dr. Linus”
• Harry Potter Loves The Hunger Games
• Music To Get Lost To

In a recent article, AP writer Sandy Cohen discusses the increasing prevalence of Hollywood honoring evil characters at the Academy Awards.

Here are just a couple of quotes from the article:

This season’s crop of nefarious characters highlights a long-standing pattern among academy voters of tending toward the dark side.

…academy voters seem to be embracing the unsavory even more of late, reflecting a change in what kinds of roles might be considered Oscar-worthy, says Tom O’Neill, a writer for the awards-tracking website, TheEnvelope.com.

“We’re seeing cutthroat Hollywood exposing themselves in a clear trend … a broader acceptance that these (evil) roles are artistic,” he says. “We’re seeing more artistic movies become darker.”

And

Lang thinks the growing number – and growing appreciation – of villainous characters may be “sort of a postmodern phenomena.”

“Things have gotten really complicated in our world,” he says. “I’m sure they always were, but there was a certain time in the movies when it was black hats and white hats, good guys and bad guys, and I think that has changed … It comes with this age.”

Do you think this is a “postmodern phenomena” and, if so, why? Do you think the days of clear “black hats and white hats” are over? How does this fit with the popularity of Harry Potter?

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I read this in late November, but believing the Pub would want to have some leisurely fun with it, saved it for a less hectic time.

Read about the Algonquin Round Table Experience offered in the famed Neiman Marcus Christmas Book.

Writes Craig Wilson:

Every year about this time the folks at Neiman Marcus put out their Christmas Book, which lists a number of fantasy gifts that none of us can afford to buy. Why they do this I don’t know. Seems rather un-Christmasy to me.

This year they are selling what’s being billed as the Algonquin Round Table Experience. What you get is “an exclusive private dinner party of fine food, engaging wit and sparkling conversation at New York City’s legendary, literary Algonquin Hotel.” That’s the promise, anyway.

The guest list hints of the old New Yorker crowd. Among them: satirist Christopher Buckley, son of William F., Jr.; cartoonist Roz Chast; the Ephron sisters, Delia and Nora; writer Malcolm Gladwell and ABC’s George Stephanopoulos and his wife, actress Ali Wentworth.

Price: $200,000. It doesn’t say if wine is included.

After contemplating the guest list, Wilson then ponders his own:

All this reminds me of that game people have played for years. If you could have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?

The usuals always make an appearance: Eleanor Roosevelt. Abraham Lincoln. Gandhi. Lassie.

I’ve never really cared for the game because I never quite knew who to invite. Do I want to laugh over my linguini with Ellen, or do I want to have a conversation of substance? But wouldn’t it be a shame to waste this fantasy feast on, say, Alan Greenspan?

I only remember the dinner parties where I laugh, so I’ve narrowed my list to Lily Tomlin, Jon Stewart, David Sedaris and my late college friend Vicki.

Vicki was the only person I knew who could make me laugh so hard Coke would come out my nose. That was if I was drinking Coke at the time, of course.

Sounds like the perfect evening to me.

Since fantasy is free here, if you had an Algonquin Table opportunity, who with whom would you like to clink butterbeers in a private room at the Pub and why?

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Beth at Endless Books wrote a bit about symbolism, with particular reference to mirrors, in LOST. Tonight’s episode must have made her happy. Warning if you haven’t seen tonight’s episode: there are spoilers below.Some initial reactions to episode 5 of Season 6 of LOST:

Hurley’s lines tonight were classic. “I just lied to a Samurai.” “She’s kinda not invited.” “He just shows up whenever he wants like Obi Wan Kenobi.” Great stuff! It’s also interesting the Hurley continues to be the only one who can see Jacob. In Harry Potter terms, Hurley is Luna. Jacob, at the end, says that some people can just be met in a cab and told what to do, while others (Jack) have to stare at the ocean for a while. Brilliant line. Hurley (like Luna) can just see. Jack (like Harry) has to learn to see.

Which means, of course, that Jack is the Harry character. But I think we knew that already. And that brings us to the mirror symbolism. As Beth noted, there’s been a mirror scene in every episode this season. Previous episodes had Jack, Kate, and John all regarding themselves in mirrors. This episode was different. Jack smashed the thing.

Why? Because he needed to assert control over his own choices. The mirror showed him that his role has been determined by Jacob since he was a kid. Jack will have none of that. He needs to come to it by choice, not by directive or plan. I can hear Harry’s protest now: “But it comes to the same thing!” And Dumbledore’s agitated reply that the choice makes all the difference in the world. Whatever Jack has to do, he’d choose to do it whether he was “fated” to or not. This is a critical, Mirror of Erised type moment. What has Jack seen in the mirror so far? What will he see as he stares out into the ocean? Will he ever seen who he truly is?

There was more play on the choice theme. Dogen told Jack that “everything is an option” (including leaving the temple), but that Dogen would try to stop Jack if he tried to leave. When Dogen told Hurley he couldn’t be in that corridor, Jacob showed up and told Hurley, “You can do what you want.” This theme of choice keeps getting set up by the Jacob side of things.

Jack’s storyline leads to all kinds of speculation, of course, about who Jacob’s replacement will be. Is the great thing Jack has to do replacing Jacob? I don’t think so.

Think about Hurley’s line about Kate again: “She’s kinda not invited.” Here’s something strange: Jacob most definitely touched Kate as a kid. But Kate is not a candidate. Why? Because Jacob’s replacement is going to come down to two people: Jack and Sawyer. One will become Jacob; the other will go home with Kate. My prediction now is that Jack goes home, Sawyer stays. Why?

We’ve already seen this happen once. Jack went home with Kate; Sawyer stayed behind to save the rest of them. It’s been set up well. Sawyer has foreshadowed his “being alone” in his conversation with Kate from episode 3. “Some of us are meant to be alone.” On top of all this, Sawyer is just a lot more like Jacob than Jack is.

These are, of course, mere speculations, but I’m laying them down as my predictions … as of now.

Finally, we must address Claire. Um … freaky. She’s lost it entirely, which definitely lends credence to the temple’s belief that she’s being infected and claimed by Smocke. The temple is definitely right about this infection, which does not bode well for Sayid. Is redemption possible for Claire? I think it is, but she’s in quite a state at present.

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Another great image from Jabberjays.com!

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Read my first post on Suzanne Collins’s series – The Hunger Games: Panem’s Politics. As with that post, there are spoilers below!

The heart of The Hunger Games is the victory of imagination over the power of tyranny.

Katniss, Gale, Peeta and the others of the Rebellion are involved in a fight no one thinks they can win, because the Capitol is so unbearably powerful. The Capitol quelled a 13-District rebellion once before, and it keeps the remaining 12 Districts in check with The Hunger Games and the heavy hand of tyranny. Two tools are employed by the Capitol: military power and dehumanization.

Dystopia and The Fall

Tolkien wrote, in explaining his storytelling philosophy behind The Lord of the Rings:

“Anyway, all this stuff is mainly concerned with Fall, Morality, and the Machine … There cannot be any ’story’ without a fall – all stories are ultimately about the fall – at least not human minds as we know them and have them.”

I think this explains the appeal of dystopia. Why do we enjoy stories where everything seems to go wrong? Why do we enjoy fairy tales that keep the grim and Gothic details more than the sanitized versions? Because we know there’s truth in the simple belief that the world is not as it should be. Something is terribly wrong. So the appeal of The Hunger Games is a very human one.

The Fall and Power in The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and The Hunger Games

We’ve all heard Lord Acton’s famous statement: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The ideas of the Fall and the corrupting influence of power are related. Because the world is not as it should be – both on the whole and in each individual – things get corrupted. The achievement of power has an important corollary – the absence of restraint. The more power one holds, the less accountability, and the less one has to answer. If I’m your subordinate, I have to answer to you. If I’m your equal, we probably both have to answer to someone else. If I’m your boss, at the top of the chain, I answer to no one. Without restraint, corruption is more likely. We need not get into the Christian theology of sin to arrive at this point. All our history and stories affirm it well enough. The Lord of the Rings was very much about power and the corruption thereof. And remember what Dumbledore said to Harry about power:

It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.

Much like possessing the Hallows, very few are the people who can handle power, and only those who do not want it.

Lord Acton believed the history of humanity was the history of the pursuit of liberty. The history of Panem is that same history. The first rebellion was quelled, and freedom has been prohibited since then. But another revolution is brewing.

The Capitol’s Power and Reality TV

The most obvious form of power the Capitol wields is its overwhelming military power. It can shut down rebellion with brute force with the use of weapons, something we see far too often in our own world. But it also has another, perhaps more powerful tool yet: subtle and slow dehumanization of its citizens.

The most sinister dehumanization has only been hinted at: the smell of blood on President Snow’s breath. No, I don’t think he’s a vampire. I think it’s possible he’s become so monstrous that he’s come to enjoy the taste of human flesh and blood. Along the same lines of dehumanization, we also see the Game Makers’ awful transformation of the fallen tributes into “muttations” – inhuman combinations of themselves wolves – to attempt to finish off the final three tributes in the 74th Games.

But the more subtle version is the dehumanization of the citizens of Panem. What is valued, as is evident by the Capitol, is melodrama, entertainment, and fashion. The stylists working on Katniss are so out of touch with reality that they don’t even think she looks like a human until they’ve given her an extreme makeover. This constant emphasis on the superficial creates a horrifying situation far too much like our own: Capitol people are scandalized when someone’s fashion isn’t right, but are entertained by gruesome violence and death.

I don’t think it’s coincidence that The Hunger Games bear resemblances to the TV show Survivor. Now, before you get upset – I’ve watched a lot of seasons of Survivor! I’m not saying to do so means you’re contributing to the dehumanization of America. But I do think Collins has a warning for us here – one that we might do well to heed.

Survivor similarities include:

• Survivor participants learn to survive in front of cameras.
• TV editors manipulate perception of the characters with editing.
• The 24 tributes are set in an environment, and each year’s is different than the previous. The Survivor castaways face a new location/environment every year, with a new batch of selected participants.
• Consider the usual intro to a season of Survivor: Jeff Probst announces, “Twenty people! Thirty-nine days! One Survivor!”
• The game is “controlled”, though obviously to a much lesser extent.
• Twists and turns are thrown in – including the random changing of game rules mid-season.
• Relationships have developed, and one season, one participant proposed to another on the reunion show. (They’re still married.)
• Participants almost always have to do what they think is wrong in order to win.
• There has even been something similar to the 75th Hunger Games. Twice now, Survivor has brought back previous winners/participants. The 10th season was an All-Stars show, while the current season is a Heroes vs. Villains set-up, all with previous popular players. It’s fascinating to watch certain participants stand in awe of other “legendary” players.

Now, Survivor itself is rather benign. No one ever dies on Survivor. But many similar elements to the Hunger Games are there: out in the wild with only your skills and a few items as resources. Competition against participants. Alliances are formed which will have to be broken in the end. And in fact, one of the ongoing debates of Survivor, season after season, is whether or not it’s required that you lie, cheat, steal, and betray in order to win the game. Usually, the answer is in the affirmative: Yes, you simply must stab people in the back in order to win. It’s just part of the game. This is the same thing The Hunger Games’ tributes must ultimately decide: Yes, I must kill innocent people in order to win this game.

Practically, Survivor was a good choice for Ms. Collins – a TV writer – to mimic because of the adventure element. But it’s also the “original” or first very successful reality TV show. And Ms. Collins is most definitely targeting the dehumanization that accompanies reality TV in these books. Watch this great interview where she calls her story a combination between gladiator games of antiquity and modern reality TV. This is an amazing blend of classical and contemporary.

The story, she says, was sparked by her sudden flipping from a Reality TV show to broadcasted images of the Iraq War. The way those two things fused in her mind created The Hunger Games story.

The blend of entertainment and war – or perhaps more accurately, the use of war by TV stations for the purpose of entertainment and profit (think about Rita Skeeter: “The Daily Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl”) – carries an inherent danger in it, because of its tendency to result in amusing ourselves to death. By creating a culture in which all that matters is the superficial and shallow, and war and violence are amusing past times like baseball, the Capitol wields is most dangerous power: the dehumanization of its citizens by stripping away everything that makes them human.

The Power of Imagination

I wrote in my last post about The Hunger Games that Katniss needed spirit-knowledge to participate in rebellion against the Capitol. This is because spirit-knowledge and imagination are the same thing, really. C.S. Lewis said that “reason is the natural order of truth, but imagination is the organ of meaning.” Katniss understood that the Capitol was oppressive, but she didn’t understand what it meant until she began to understand herself as a human being.

Katniss became the Mockingjay, the symbol of rebellion around which the rest of the Districts have gathered, when she began to understand herself. The remaining Districts do not have the military power to overthrow the Capitol, but in rallying around Katniss and the Mockingjay symbol, they have begun to overthrow the more potent tool of the Capitol – the replacement of imagination (the faculty of knowing the spirit of humanity) with superficiality. When imagination returns to the people, overthrow of oppressive power comes next.

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