Avatar and the Agrarian Vision
So yesterday I went to a movie theater to watch Avatar, the consummation of filmmaker James Cameron's 15-year effort. I have to say that I really enjoyed it and I was spectacularly entertained. The visuals were indeed stunning, the 3D worked wonderfully, and the the story, however "simple," warmed this heart, at least.
What reviews I have read online are very divided. Some accuse the movie of racism, sexism and misanthropy. Others contend that its message is sublime and of paramount importance. I do think that the former tend to misunderstand the movie or are sadly unaware of the multitude of historical precedents for the tragedy that unfolds in the film. The former might take the movie a bit too seriously, but that is largely because it is a rehash of, well, a LOT of other movies, including at least the following: Dances with Wolves, FernGully, The Last Samurai, The New World, and At Play in the Fields of the Lord. I also have to say that there is one bit of Hollywood in Avatar that keeps me from making too much of it. In the end, Cameron gives us a happy ending, making the film improbable even by science fiction standards. And that's because the kind of story being told here, one that has been repeated throughout history, has sadly enjoyed few happy endings.
Let's see what I can sum up without ruining the plot. The story is set in 2154 and humans are traveling to the stars, although slower than the speed of light. A life-filled moon named Pandora, orbiting a gas giant planet, contains a highly valuable mineral useful for the energy needs of a dying Earth. However, mining for this mineral puts human interests at odds with the needs and desires of a sentient, humanoid population living a clan-based, hunter-gatherer existence - the Na'vi. The corporation that collects the mineral entertains multiple options for getting what it wants: scientists who study the native Na'vi and seek to earn their trust and military mercenaries who will gladly blow some junk up to git r' dun. A paraplegic ex-Marine arrives to participate in the scientists' avatar program, in which his mind directs a genetically-engineered Na'vi body. When the Marine, Jake, gains entrance into one of the clans, he must decide between helping the people whose ways he is learning or feeding tactical information to his fellow soldiers.
The Na'vi are referred to as the "indigenous population" or sometimes as the "savages." The parallels to the real-life experiences of indigenous peoples, and Native Americans in particular, should be too obvious to miss. What the mercenaries of the corporation intend to do is what has been done in Central America, on Manhattan Island, at Wounded Knee, and countless other places. The tall, blue Na'vi even oddly look like Native Americans, at least in their faces, I thought.
I thought the connection was particularly strong when it came to the profound sense of place held by the Na'vi clan that welcomes Jake. The entire group inhabits a gigantic tree known simply as "home tree." They have lived there for generations and could accept no material inducement to abandon it. Not far away there is another tree which is a sacred landmark. Its destruction would traumatize the Na'vi for generations to come.
This strong sense of place, of trees that cannot be bought and sold, commodified and packaged, is very strange to us, but not to American Indians. The Cherokee of western North Carolina believed that their ancestors emerged from the Smoky Mountains and it was their sacred trust to preserve forever. The Lakota Sioux of the plains, meanwhile, saw the Black Hills as holy ground. Most Americans don't realize that Mt. Rushmore is a horrendous blasphemy to them. Of course, I think it's a horrendous blasphemy as well, although for other reasons...
In other words, the land is intrinsically valuable and it holds a claim on the people more than they hold a claim on it. The land cannot be purchased or traded because it is invaluable. It is more than "resources" or capital. It is life itself. It is blessing and gift. I don't imagine most Christians in the West think of the land where they dwell this way. We've wandered a great deal from the land ethic of the Old Testament, in which adam comes from adamah, or, as the pun describes it, "human from humus." We do not share the sense that the land is nahalah, a gifted inheritance made possible by the relationship between the people and God. If we Christians look at Avatar and the first thought is "pagan tree-hugging nonsense," then perhaps we have forgotten the land ethic to which our Scripture calls us. This ethic is not alien to what the Native Americans traditionally felt or what the fictional Na'vi see in their trees. But it is alien to us now. Or, rather, as in the movie, we ourselves are now the aliens.
What reviews I have read online are very divided. Some accuse the movie of racism, sexism and misanthropy. Others contend that its message is sublime and of paramount importance. I do think that the former tend to misunderstand the movie or are sadly unaware of the multitude of historical precedents for the tragedy that unfolds in the film. The former might take the movie a bit too seriously, but that is largely because it is a rehash of, well, a LOT of other movies, including at least the following: Dances with Wolves, FernGully, The Last Samurai, The New World, and At Play in the Fields of the Lord. I also have to say that there is one bit of Hollywood in Avatar that keeps me from making too much of it. In the end, Cameron gives us a happy ending, making the film improbable even by science fiction standards. And that's because the kind of story being told here, one that has been repeated throughout history, has sadly enjoyed few happy endings.
Let's see what I can sum up without ruining the plot. The story is set in 2154 and humans are traveling to the stars, although slower than the speed of light. A life-filled moon named Pandora, orbiting a gas giant planet, contains a highly valuable mineral useful for the energy needs of a dying Earth. However, mining for this mineral puts human interests at odds with the needs and desires of a sentient, humanoid population living a clan-based, hunter-gatherer existence - the Na'vi. The corporation that collects the mineral entertains multiple options for getting what it wants: scientists who study the native Na'vi and seek to earn their trust and military mercenaries who will gladly blow some junk up to git r' dun. A paraplegic ex-Marine arrives to participate in the scientists' avatar program, in which his mind directs a genetically-engineered Na'vi body. When the Marine, Jake, gains entrance into one of the clans, he must decide between helping the people whose ways he is learning or feeding tactical information to his fellow soldiers.
The Na'vi are referred to as the "indigenous population" or sometimes as the "savages." The parallels to the real-life experiences of indigenous peoples, and Native Americans in particular, should be too obvious to miss. What the mercenaries of the corporation intend to do is what has been done in Central America, on Manhattan Island, at Wounded Knee, and countless other places. The tall, blue Na'vi even oddly look like Native Americans, at least in their faces, I thought.
I thought the connection was particularly strong when it came to the profound sense of place held by the Na'vi clan that welcomes Jake. The entire group inhabits a gigantic tree known simply as "home tree." They have lived there for generations and could accept no material inducement to abandon it. Not far away there is another tree which is a sacred landmark. Its destruction would traumatize the Na'vi for generations to come.
This strong sense of place, of trees that cannot be bought and sold, commodified and packaged, is very strange to us, but not to American Indians. The Cherokee of western North Carolina believed that their ancestors emerged from the Smoky Mountains and it was their sacred trust to preserve forever. The Lakota Sioux of the plains, meanwhile, saw the Black Hills as holy ground. Most Americans don't realize that Mt. Rushmore is a horrendous blasphemy to them. Of course, I think it's a horrendous blasphemy as well, although for other reasons...
In other words, the land is intrinsically valuable and it holds a claim on the people more than they hold a claim on it. The land cannot be purchased or traded because it is invaluable. It is more than "resources" or capital. It is life itself. It is blessing and gift. I don't imagine most Christians in the West think of the land where they dwell this way. We've wandered a great deal from the land ethic of the Old Testament, in which adam comes from adamah, or, as the pun describes it, "human from humus." We do not share the sense that the land is nahalah, a gifted inheritance made possible by the relationship between the people and God. If we Christians look at Avatar and the first thought is "pagan tree-hugging nonsense," then perhaps we have forgotten the land ethic to which our Scripture calls us. This ethic is not alien to what the Native Americans traditionally felt or what the fictional Na'vi see in their trees. But it is alien to us now. Or, rather, as in the movie, we ourselves are now the aliens.
Labels: Agrariana
Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now. Keep it up!
And according to this article, I totally agree with your opinion, but only this time! :)
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Saturday, February 20, 2010 5:17:00 AM
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