06.20.09
Dreams, Imagination, and Fatherhood
I just now got around to watching the 1998 Robin Williams movie, What Dreams May Come, which borrows loosely from Dante’s Divine Comedy. I liked how it wasn’t afraid to deal with death, depression and despair despite the obvious problems with reincarnation, imagination, and the premise of “I think, therefore I am”. Creation is presented as an illusion and heaven takes the form of an individual’s dreams as that is how the person can relate to reality. But dreams are not reality itself, which always remains hidden. The artwork and especially the use of color is stunningly decadent, and just before the eye candy starts inducing a sugar coma, the journey leads to hell, which is thankfully more understated than heaven was.
Robin Williams comes off as a good guy, but there are cracks that I’m not sure were intentionally presented as such. The relationship with his wife is fleshed out pretty well with the good and bad, but his relationship flaws with his children is more opaque. The viewer seems more informed than Williams is. The resolution with them seems self-serving.
In our romantic fulfilment society, children are presented as an afterthought and their happiness comes way further down the list than an individual’s. And the good times with children are seen as a consolation prize to be enjoyed between the star attractiveness of the husband and wife. There are plenty of stories from a child’s point of view, but even that is the author’s point of view of a time before he found romantic fulfillment. There are some parent-child oriented stories from the parent’s point of view, but these are usually single-parents who were forced into it through abandonment by the other spouse and the inability to attain their first choice.
At least What Dreams May Come wasn’t forced to deal with the parent child relationship in that way. Perhaps the reason these stories are so oriented is that children require self-sacrifice and are not usually patterned after dreams, but harsh, fallen reality, even though God made them incredibly cute. But even in heaven, Robin Williams’ children become what he can relate to instead of who they really are. I don’t think God is that accommodating. We are the ones who have to change to accommodate reality, not the other way around, but who wants to hear that? Robin Williams does make this accommodation for his wife though, but conveniently his children didn’t need it. In reality, our spouse and our children all need it.
Before I vilify dreams too much, this morning I came across this letter from Fr. Seraphim Rose to one of his spiritual children,
D. is right – don’t be too taken up by “fantasies.” But don’t entirely squash them, either – without dreams, we can’t live! May God grant your Reuben the grace to be baptized and find his place to be a fruitful Orthodox Christian…
May God grant you to continue with such freshness towards Orthodoxy as you felt with reading St. Symeon’s Homilies! Be aware, however, that this will be possible only with sufferings; everything you need to deepen your faith will come with suffering – if you accept it with humility and submission to God’s will. (Father Seraphim Rose, His Life and Works, p. 798)
He then goes on to say a lot about accepting suffering with joy. Sorry to switch back to a movie, but What Dreams May Come probably does present a balanced view of this in Williams’ willingness to go to hell for his wife. His eye is on the prize, even when she’s at her worst, and he endures with love and joy. And I think children are glad when their father sacrifices himself for his wife. Women are typically more tuned in to the kids than men are, but I think we are confused and not entirely satisfied by this arrangement. What Dreams May Come at least considers this, but it is not the driving force of the movie. Fatherhood and father figures are more peripheral and almost expendable. Perhaps we have given up too much on this dream.
Maxim said,
June 20, 2009 at 4:11 pm
How did you know what my next blog post was going to be about?
Andrea Elizabeth said,
June 20, 2009 at 7:14 pm
There’s always room for variations on a theme. And it is Father’s Day tomorrow!
debd said,
June 21, 2009 at 7:05 pm
you said: “I don’t think God is that accommodating. We are the ones who have to change to accommodate reality, not the other way around, but who wants to hear that?”
Amen, amen, amen!! Along those lines – I get so tired of people telling me that they have to water down the Gospel and worship (presentation) so people can relate to it or feel comfortable with it.
Thanks for reminding me of this movie. It is one that I have wanted to take a look at for many years… but that is because I have a weird interest in death and end-of-life.
Andrea Elizabeth said,
June 22, 2009 at 9:48 am
I don’t think it is weird to be interested in the great unknown. There are many Orthodox instructions to be mindful of death. I admire your work with hospice care.
Deb said,
July 2, 2009 at 9:57 pm
hubby and I got a chance to watch this over the week. Having never read “The Divine Comedy” I can’t speak to that. But one thing that did strike me was that heaven seemed like a very lonely place and hell seemed to be a place where “community” (such as it was) was occurring.
Also, the writer’s idea of heaven seemed to be merely a really great vacation place with a good view. So, then what??? That’s it??
I agree with you about the idea that heaven is whatever you make it out to be. That just doesn’t sit right with me. Plus, it doesn’t make sense – because why isn’t hell whatever I make it out to be too???
I would have like to have explored the issue of grieving, loss, and depression more. I found those parts intriguing, and perhaps something with which some screenwriter has had an experience with (unlike the afterlife).
Andrea Elizabeth said,
July 3, 2009 at 6:31 am
It seemed that the family relationship was the only one that mattered in heaven, in a nice secluded vacation spot at least, like you say.
Then hell is presented as other people crowding in on you. Even the other person’s experience of heaven as being more crowded was bizarre. More like a circus than community.
So it was like “hell is other people”. Actually, even his wife and children were like hell to him, and his fantasy of his wife was heaven, but the reality was pain. He didn’t seem to enjoy his children either, until, sorry to repeat, they became what he could relate to.
In hearing about Fr. Schmemann’s journal yesterday on the podcast I linked to, about how he disliked hearing confession and most other conversations, I wonder if he sort of felt the same way as the character in the movie. I don’t know anything about his family life though. It makes me want to read the rest.
debd said,
July 4, 2009 at 5:40 am
Interesting comment about today’s American society: hell is people encroaching on my personal space. As much as I long for solitude it isn’t my understanding of heaven.
I had heard that about Fr. Schmemann and confession. I don’t really have a desire to read the book though, out of respect for the family who was against its publishing. We have two of his grandchildren and their families at our parish.
Andrea Elizabeth said,
July 4, 2009 at 9:17 am
The idea of a crowded heaven bothers me in theory, but I think it will be different than how we think of frantically crowded cities and traffic jams. I imagine it will be more like Church with the icons of Saints occupying every space, but in person instead. I also admit I like evening services that do not have many people in them, but the more icons the better!
Perhaps Father Alexander did not like putting up with immaturity and the unfortunate consequences of sin in people’s lives. Yet I imagine he endured with patience, which is work. I suppose in heaven, with the absence of sin, we will not have to “patiently endure”. Plus we’ll realize how our own sins aren’t much fun for those around us either, and be more merciful.
I did not know some of the family did not want the Journal published. I wonder if they sell it at the Monastery of the Transfiguration, where his daughter, Father Thomas Hopko’s wife, frequently comes. I am so conflicted about how much of people’s personal lives, mainly mine, should be hidden. On one hand, it seems isolationist, and a denial about how even our innermost thoughts already automatically affect everyone else. But Noah’s sons sinned in looking at their father uncovered.
Lord have mercy on me a sinner.