The Scariest Thing in the World

by Tom Shafer

January 17, 2019

“You know what the scariest thing is in the world? To not know your place in this world. To not know why you are here. That’s . . . that’s just an awful feeling.” Elijah Price (Mr. Glass) from the movie Unbreakable.

Okay, so maybe I was one of the few people who enjoyed the movie Unbreakable. I’m not a big comic book movie kind of guy, but I did like this M. Night Shyamalan offering. And maybe there are others who liked it; I just haven’t run into any of them.

In a week or so, a follow-up to this movie, Glass, opens across America featuring much of the original cast, including Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson. From a trailer that has been airing, it appears that a battle will take place between good guys and bad guys. Again. Like every movie produced these days. Yawn.

Perhaps it is not fair for me to make that observation because I am not an avid moviegoer. In fact, I can’t even call myself an occasional moviegoer. The last film I saw at a theater was The Revenant, when I took my father-in-law to a special showing for the hearing impaired. Google just informed me that that movie was released in 2015 – which frankly is a little shocking to me. Almost four years have passed!

And considering that the last movie I saw prior to The Revenant, Lincoln, was released in 2012 – well, it’s pretty obvious that I can’t wait not to watch the Oscars again, for at least the eighth time in a row.

I used to enjoy “going to the movies,” but I now find it difficult to concentrate on anything for two solid hours – unless it is completely captivating. My mind is a constant whir of activity and can easily distract me from things upon which I should be focusing. A two-hour movie is just too much to ask.

I did catch up with the film industry somewhat this past summer when I flew to and from Scotland. Since I find it extremely challenging to sleep on a plane, my brain definitely needed some distracting on the nine-hour tube flight to and from Edinburgh, and movies were the perfect distraction. I even planned ahead by checking the entertainment schedules for my flights, and selected six films (three over, three back) for my viewing pleasure: The Darkest Hour, Dunkirk, Red Sparrow, The Post, The Color of Water, and Game Night (okay, I needed a little comedy in there). I thoroughly enjoyed the five movies I stayed awake for (including the goofy Game Night), but I suppose I will have to catch The Color of Water at another time – and that’s not an indictment against the movie. Exhaustion finally caught up with me on the way back to the states – along with the pulsing hum of the engines and an unusually quiet cabin. Mmmm, I’m sleepy right now thinking about it.

Wow, speaking – er, word-processing – about lack of concentration! I have completely strayed from Mr. Glass, so back to that. I love this cerebral quote (that “scariest thing in the world” one) because there is just so much here to unwrap. Having spent thirty years teaching language arts, I am drawn to pithy statements like this because they can mean everything – or nothing – depending on your own beliefs, viewpoints, and experiences.

In fact, during quiet times in my classroom, when my students were taking a test, reading a passage, or completing some sort of writing, I would look at each kid, trying to imagine how he or she viewed the world, jettisoning into his or her future to get a glimpse of his or her life. Did my students actually ponder ideas like this? I certainly pushed them to, but never knew whether they did or not. I know I did when I was a child – and still do so today. But there is always danger in dabbling with devilish philosophy or knowing or wondering – and safety in not dabbling. Like the horse wearing blinders so he cannot see what is behind or beside him – so as not to be distracted or panicked. An examined life can be a frightening proposition. An unexamined life is safe and risk-free. Ignorance IS bliss.

When I taught F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, perhaps the greatest novel ever written, I liked to focus some time on Daisy, the sole object of Gatsby’s attention and affection. Before starting the Gatsby unit, I always told my students that she was one of the most misunderstood characters in the history of fiction (yes, that is a thing!) – and that I wanted them to think about her and her life as they read.

For the uninitiated, here is a brief synopsis of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby:

*Prior to WWI, Gatsby and Daisy are an item. Gatsby is poor, Daisy comes from wealth.
*Gatsby goes to war but doesn’t return right away; Daisy marries hunky, wealthy Tom because . . . well, that.
*Gatsby doesn’t believe he can win back and keep Daisy until he himself is wealthy, so he becomes wealthy – sort of through illegal means (he’s a bootlegger . . . and probably some other stuff).
*He returns to New York, buys a large mansion on Long Island close to Daisy, and throws big, lavish parties, hoping that she’ll wander in to one of them – which sort of works.
*She starts to fall for him again, though she still retains some feeling (maybe one) for her husband Tom.
*After Gatsby forces the issue of his love at a very uncomfortable party in New York (with Tom in attendance), Daisy inadvertently runs over Tom’s mistress (Myrtle, yet unknown to Daisy) with her husband’s fancy car (and Gatsby in the passenger seat). Oh, and they don’t stop after hitting – and killing – her.
*Though upset (hitting Myrtle, Gatsby declaring his love?), Daisy returns to her home while Gatsby returns to his, now completely convinced that he has won her back.
*George, Myrtle’s husband, seeks out Tom for revenge (it was his car, according to witnesses), but Tom points George in Gatsby’s direction (he likely doesn’t know Daisy was driving, but would it matter?).
*Anyway, while Gatsby is daydreaming (probably about Daisy) alone in his swimming pool, George appears, kills Gatsby with a revolver, then turns the gun on himself.
*Tom and Daisy retreat from New York, while Gatsby is buried by three attendees: his father (whom we were told by Gatsby was dead), an odd partygoer (“Owl Eyes”), and Gatsby’s next-door neighbor Nick (who is the greatest narrator in literary history – without question, I might add!).
*Nick, who has tried to remain impartial throughout, waxes philosophical at the end, proclaiming how great Gatsby is.
*The end (makes you want to read it now, doesn’t it?).

While and after reading the novel, most of my students colored Daisy as a flirt and a tart (they typically used more contemporary language like “slut” or “whore,” but I won’t use those words here). So, I would point to a discussion she has with Nick (her distant cousin – coincidence?) way back in Chapter 1, and in particular, a statement she makes about her daughter. She offers to Nick that when her daughter was born, she (Daisy) cried and stated that “I hope she’ll be a fool – that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”

Unfortunately, Daisy does know her place in the world – and is powerless to do anything about it. In the mid-1920s, women were still considered second-class citizens. Though they had just been granted voting rights (in August of 1920), women still found it difficult to enter meaningful careers, especially those women who were members of high society. They were rarely taken seriously over matters of any significant gravity, so they supported their men with manners, style, and beauty.

Of course, today we might look at her situation and recognize that at least she comes from privilege and doesn’t have to experience the struggles of a woman of the underprivileged classes. But perhaps what makes her unique among her class is her self-awareness, an understanding that (from her perspective) she has reached the pinnacle of success and finds it hollow and unfulfilling. Like Mr. Glass, she knows why she is here – but doesn’t like it.

So what would you choose? Or have you already? Do you know what your place is in this world, or are you that horse with blinders? Frequently, when dealing with metaphysical issues like these, I turn to The Matrix because it presents them in metaphorical ways that are easy to digest and comprehend. As Neo (Keanu Reeves, portraying a man who knows something is wrong with the world but can’t put a finger on it) is being introduced to the Matrix (the world as it is – aliens harvesting for their energy human beings who are completely oblivious, living in a computer simulation), Morpheus (Lawrence Fishburne, prophetic leader of the Resistance, people who are free from the Matrix) gives him an opportunity to return to his easier “life” in the Matrix, offering a blue pill that will allow him to erase what he has seen of the real world, or a red pill that will allow him to, as Morpheus says, “stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

Those essentially are the choices all of us are presented in life. Do you want the easier path that may bring contentment but little challenge or sense of accomplishment, or do you want to wander down the rabbit hole which may require exertion on a path to realization? I contend that you may be happy with either choice – unless self-awareness rears its ugly head (because it can) and causes you to question your selection. Without self-awareness, Daisy might have been perfectly happy with her life of privilege and leisure. Without self-awareness, you might be happy as well.

It’s so cliché but so true: life is all about choices – and I love that! Unlike what some believe, I really don’t think that choices are necessarily good or bad. They just are. Only their outcomes can be judged (should you choose to) “good” or “bad.” When I was teaching, I frequently told my students that there are really just two profane words in the English language, two words, once uttered, that cannot be undone, that produce Mr. Glass’s “awful feeling”: disappointment and regret. The less you have of both, the happier you will be.

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