Morality is Not the Lack of Evil

I've mentioned in an earlier post about the danger and ultimate inability of government to dictate moral direction. I thought that maybe I would expand on the concept of morals since I might

My wife and I were watching The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian recently. In the movie there is the cliched scene where the good guys hold the main bad guy at their mercy, literally kneeling helpless, and then decide not to kill him. The movie presents this as some great moral test for young Prince Caspian (the villain had murdered his father and had tried to assassinate the prince). The fact that Caspian thinks hard on it, but does not ultimately kill this man is celebrated as some great moral victory.

Thinking on this scene though I began to wonder why this is seen as a moral victory. I mean Caspian didn't murder the man who murdered his father. Why not?

The character was not developed enough in the film to come to any conclusion (and I have to admit that I've never read the book). He did not seem to possess a great sense of ethics that could easily be defined or evidenced (he was that type of person who is the good guy because we're told repeatedly that he's a good guy). It seemed most likely to me, though, that Caspian did not kill because he would have felt bad or guilty about the action. In other words, because he was weak.

Simply not having the fortitude to kill is not a moral stance. It says nothing about one's ethics. While it is true that morality is about making a choice, the basis on which we make a moral judgement about an action must be on what is intended by the action. Intention is what provides the basis for judgement, since intent is the only aspect of the choice that a person has full control over.

In the case of Caspian, his intent is questionable. He seems afraid of what he may become, seems afraid of having to live with the guilt from the killing. --By the way, there's a fair amount of killing in the film and not all in obvious self-defense. Killing, in itself, is not presented as a necessarily immoral act.-- Weakness of this sort is not morality, nor is it a proper substitute. Compare this scene to the moment in The Dark Knight when Batman refuses to run over the Joker following the semi-truck flip. In Batman (at least the two most recent, Christopher Nolan films), we have a character with a highly developed and demonstrated moral code. Among the rules of his moral code is the fact that he does not kill. Thus, the temptation to run over the Joker (and his choice not to) is not a moral choice, but rather a refusal to be corrupted-- to make a choice he knows is wrong according to his moral code. In this case his morality is demonstrated and not chosen. Yet Caspian's refusal to kill is presented as a correct moral choice. Kill or not. Good or evil. So at the end of the day in Narnia, we're left with the film celebrating the fact that Caspian, this moral paragon, did not act in an evil manner and that seems to be enough to create morality.

This has always been a peeve of mine when this appears in the various forms of narrative. Goodness is not simply the lack of evil, and morality is not simply the lack of immoral behavior. Someone is good because of demonstrably good acts. Morality is an action taken, not an inaction of evil intent.

Pearls

I have to admit that I'm not a big fan of what's considered contemporary American literature. Yes, there are some current American writers who produce works of great beauty and merit, but if you were mention their names to most people frequenting university English departments they would merely scratch their head and say "who?" Katharine Haake, a writer of rare quality and seemingly an absolute unknown outside of small So. Cal. circles may be chief among my list of the under appreciated.


I suppose part of my problem is the resistance I feel to the writer's authority. It seems that current American writers have taken on the need to have something to say. The theme of the work becomes the primary purpose of the work, suggesting that fiction is synonymous with editorial, that a lecture has somehow become equivalent to "story" or conversation. The author throws his pearls of wisdom to the swine, the ignorant rabble groping for comfort and leadership (if not for the author, maybe they'll cling to their guns or religion). For the most part, American literature since the 1950s seems intent on teaching the reader "great" truths, imparting upon him/her some pat wisdom, and changing his/her mind toward a set viewpoint-- a set goal.


Personally, I get very nervous with the elitist structure that is created from this idea-- the reader subjugated to a passive role, becoming merely a blank and unthinking page on which to emboss the writer's ideology (here pigs take your pearls). It seems to presuppose the basic inferiority of the reader as well as suggest a frightening-- but unrealistic-- malleability.


When I read Yusanari Kawabata or William Golding or Herman Melville, I don't feel that I'm reading a newspaper editorial diguised by pretty words and narrative structure. Yes, certainly Golding (author of Lord of the Flies certainly not a book lacking in a solid theme) and Kawabata (The Sound of the Mountain) and Melville (Billy Budd, the Sailor) all have something to say. The difference being that their work opens a discussion with the reader, not subjects him/her to a lecture. While engaging the work, it is up to the reader to tease out what the writer has to say, and in doing so the reader makes this theme his/her own and gives the reader that much more freedom to reject or accept the theme to varying degrees. With most popular American literature writers, the format creates very little freedom and the reader is usuually only allowed the option to accept wholly or reject utterly because nothing of the work is his/her own. The reader has invested no thought into the work-- only attention and emotion.


I suppose because of this attention to emotion American literary writers seem so attracted to topics that so easily generate emotion-- race, contemporary politics, feminism, etc. Let me be clear, I am not saying that there is anything wrong with these topics being the subject or theme of a literary work. All of these topics are very deserving of thoughtful discussion-- and that probably is my problem right there. How very few times these topics are given thoughtful examination in contemporary American literature.


Something very unique in literature is lost when the writer flexes his authoritative muscles, turns fiction into editorial. One of the great appeals of written fiction, at least to me, is the active manner in which a reader's mind engages the writer's words. The words stimulate, the mind thinks (not merely absorbs like a sponge), and meaning is derived through the interaction. The reader gains knowledge through his/her own mind's active churnings and not passive observation. The writer is a moderator between his/her ideas and the reader. The literary writer is not a teacher.


This audience participation is unique to written fiction, a wonderfully clean place where story is laid down to its essentials, unencumbered by a performance (either by actors or a speaker) outside of the narrative itself. It seems regetable that the current trends in literature seem so intent on controlling the active minds of the readers.