What’s the draw of pre-apocalyptic stories?
I read with interest io9.com’s article on the growing popularity of pre-apocalyptic movies, compared to post-apocalyptic movies. The post-apocalyptic concept had big audiences during the Cold War, sparked in my thought by the relative newness of the suddenly-potentially realistic possibility of total nuclear obliteration. Before that, probably the only thing people “realistically” thought could wipe out the entire world was God.
The io9 writer ascribed greater meaning to pre-apocalyptic stories this way:
We may or may not be living in a pre-apocalyptic world right now, but most of us are definitely not living in a post-apocalyptic one. The only thing post-apocalyptic stories tell us is that some of us may survive the end of everything, in whatever reduced circumstances. But pre-apocalyptic stories have a lot more meaning — they tell us how to use our last days, and whether it’s worth struggling against the looming disaster.
I would have gone one step farther than that in the first sentence. I believe one of the biggest draws to pre-apocalyptic movies is not that we may or may not be living in a pre-apocalyptic world, but that from a subjective perspective every day we live is a pre-apocalyptic experience to our ultimate individual apocalypse–our death. Pre-apocalyptic stories about the world are a macro-level view of our own internal dialogue about what we do with our life every day.
A lot of the stories described deal with the knowledge of a future event that is perceived as either unavoidable, or avoidable only at great effort. It’s date may or may not be known. Even in the Termiantor movies when the date “Skynet” was switched on was a known quantity, that was only an “end date” . . . the protagonists had up to that time to affect change, but not more unless intervening events provided more, and quite possibly a lot less. I think our lives are viewed much the same way. I may not know the day I’m going to die, but I know what my life expectancy is (roughly), so I can’t count on having much more than that time, and I may have significantly less time.
In these pre-apocalyptic stories, the protagonists are often trying to, obviously, prevent the apocalyptic event with the kind of fervor that we don’t normally run around with trying to stave off death. But not always true . . . Deep Impact comes to mind, where the apocalypse, at least for some, becomes unavoidable, and how do people deal with that. I think stories like that tend to be more uncomfortable, because they hit closer to home. We are all going to die, and we would rather watch movies about how heroes go about preventing the inevitable than movies about people trying to deal with the inevitable (unless they’re doing something very heroic while grappling with the inevitability, and even then that’s generally frowned upon as not being happy-ending enough). Let’s face it, most of us are, at best, heroes in small ways rather than big ones. Being a good parent, or a good friend, or being a volunteer, or a charitable contributor. Rescuing a dog.
I don’t think it’s necessary to invent artificial apocalypse scenarios, whether it is putting faith in ancient Mayan calculation, or the Biblical warnings of the end of the world (which was originally supposed to have come shortly after Jesus’ death), but I do think it is important to ascertain potential apocalyptic events that have their basis in fact, such as the potential consequences of global warming or how to deflect a giant asteroid, or, if humanity lasts far into the future, how to escape Earth permanently.
At the end of the day, we are all living in our own pre-apocalypse. If you would be unhappy with your legacy if you died tomorrow, then what is holding you up?
on September 12, 2008 on 8:41 pm
True, but ultimately no one really leaves a legacy. Despite having a written language, humans are generally as forgotten as the beasts of the field after only a relatively short time after death. If you’re propped up by thoughts of a legacy, then it’s all an illusion.
on September 12, 2008 on 8:49 pm
To whatever small piece of the world we have, some of us leave a genetic legacy. Additionally, in the short term, we leave our influence on family (most importantly probably children) and friends and, in some cases, acquaintances and strangers. Ideas invented or propagated may have effects that linger and die after death, or gain momentum to affect change.
On the one hand you can look at it like the pebble in the river . . . in the grand flow of human history and events your individual legacy may mean nothing. On the other hand there is the thought of a butterfly flapping its wings that later causes an impact halfway around the globe . . . some view even the small things we do as having potentially large effects at some point in the future. Perhaps even world-changing events.
I’m not stating one is right and one is wrong, only that I do believe pre-apocalyptic stories resonate with us for reasons that have to do with our mortality.
on September 12, 2008 on 10:52 pm
Genetic: gets diluted exponentially with each generation.
Influence: dies with the influenced. Ripple effect diminishes rapidly and gets diluted rapidly beyond the directly-affected.
Ideas: most ideas would have been thought of sooner or later. The gaining of momentum is whatever everybody else adds and isn’t mine to claim.
Butterfly effect: illusory. Many different events affect an outcome, which is only one of many things that affect the next generation of outcomes. Ultimately, all efforts are diluted by the large scale mass action of cause and effect. Either way, no one knows or cares who started it all.
“I’m not stating one is right and one is wrong, only that I do believe pre-apocalyptic stories resonate with us for reasons that have to do with our mortality”
I think you’re absolutely right on this one, though. You certainly did get me thinking about it.
on September 13, 2008 on 1:51 am
“Genetic: gets diluted exponentially with each generation.”
You’re taking that the wrong way. As long as that chain continues, there is a piece of your genetic legacy there. Whether it is diluted or not, it is something of you left behind. Sure, it may disappear, or the human race may be wiped out, but just because it’s diluted doesn’t mean it is meaningless.
“Ideas: most ideas would have been thought of sooner or later. The gaining of momentum is whatever everybody else adds and isn’t mine to claim.”
You’ll be dead . . so, no, you won’t get to claim adds. But if your idea was the conclusive, end-all of what it meant to leave an idea or a push as a legacy, then we would not remember or credit the contributions of anyone in the past. And we know that isn’t true. It is possible to leave a legacy yourself, or attempt to bolster the legacy of someone whose ideas or actions you don’t want to see lost in the wash of history. And history is full of examples where this has occurred.
“Either way, no one knows or cares who started it all.”
Some people might not think it is necessary to have credit. The fact that you may have made a difference may be enough. If the butterfly effect is illusory, so be it, but I think that is a matter of opinion, not fact.
I’m not saying that everyone is going to be the next world leader, super star, or influential person, or even that one has to make that attempt. But I don’t think most people have that need. I think most people would just be happy to leave a little something behind and hope that it was good. Whether that is any better or worse than believing you will be resurrected by a giant sky faerie, I dunno. There are a lot of different ways that people find to be happy on this rock during their time here.
I would just prefer it if people spent less time trying to tell me how I should be happy. That’s why I’m a libertarian.
This is fun.
on September 13, 2008 on 6:13 pm
Well, we can argue all sorts of things about the legacy of a rotting corpse, but I still say that the “legacy” idea is just a fantasy. My legacy will ultimately be no different than the legacy of the fly that I crushed against the window screen:
I lived.
I increased the entropy of the universe by turning perfectly good living things into poop.
I died.
Yes, it does matter if I get resurrected. That’s the only thing that matters. A million years from now, if I don’t still exist, then it matters not whether I ever existed. Meaning only exists for those things which are eternal. Everything else is dirt.