Empire Strikes Back: The Subverter

So this is the subverter part of the subversion chapter in the subversion trilogy of the Star Wars cycle, the story center of the Skywalker Saga. So all the stuff that's the most important is right here, right now. So strap in, 'cause it's here that most uncomfortable truths of the entire Saga reside in the most explicit form. Ready?

We start this whole thing off with the cave incident which, if you grew up with Star Wars like I did, is well-known. It's one of the most chilling moments in all of Star Wars. But, as I was sitting down to write about this section it hit me: what's true about Anakin is true about Luke, but the reverse is true. While it's true that there's a bit of evil inside of Luke that means that there's a bit of good still inside of Vader. No matter what Vader, Hitler, Stalin, or a rapist may do there's still a bit of good inside of them. So long as they're here, alive, there's still something inside of them that can be redeemed. You may not be the person to do it but, as Luke says later, no one is ever really gone. And the reverse is definitely true. No matter how good we think we are there's still something that lurks inside of us, angry and vengeful and, unless we address it, it'll rise up and eat us whole. And Luke is very afraid of this.

And it's here that I bring up Vader's conversation with the Emperor, which just confirms what I'd said a second ago. Vader is outright lying to Palpatine. He asks how it's possible for his son to be alive, knowing full well that Luke is his son, already having killed quite a few people to get to Han and Leia. Vader's offer to Palpatine here is completely phony and that's where the greatest twist of the Star Wars saga finally unveils itself: Vader never really gave up. He may have thought he did, but given the chance to get back into contact with his son, he does so without a second's thought. It's not arguable that his means are evil, but the Shadow, when it finally comes back to itself and realizes that there's still some hope, generally doesn't use very good means to get back into contact with the Overworld. It will throw the person's world into complete and utter disarray, demanding attention and relationship. All of its attempts are wrong, of course, but the sad part is that part of ourselves has no idea how to do it anything right anymore, but it must try to reintegrate somehow. Unable to do anything we might recognize, it creates a huge mess, trying to get us to face up to what we truly are. It's a violent attempt to love that may very well break the person apart, but at that point the Shadow doesn't care anymore. Its message must be delivered.

After the failure at the cave Luke begins to improve. Failures can do that to people from time to time. Stimulated and challenged by the limits they hit they push ever harder, thinking that by doing more impressive things they can overcome the flaw that they perceived within themselves.  Yeah, if you think that (and I know I have) you're about as full of it as that X-Wing that just sank. Luke's reaction is pretty typical for someone who's trying to improve himself: this goes completely outside my line of thinking, so what makes you think it can be done? But Yoda shows that the issues that we find ourselves running into are, in the end, inconsequential. If you believe it will happen. And if you don't think it will it won't. It's about as simple as that. But this lack of belief in himself, shown by the encounter in the cave, is rooted deeply into Luke. This is not the first time we've seen it and it won't be the last.

Witnessing Yoda's transcendence helps Luke break a wall of his own: he can now see into the future. But what he sees completely changes his perceptions of what he's doing. His friends will suffer and Yoda tells him he can't go and help them. Reaching enlightenment of any type is always a sobering process. If, at any point in time, you reach a point in your spiritual journey where you think you've hit the top, I've got very bad news: you're deluding yourself. As long as you're in this world all gifts will be measured out with a healthy dose of pain. And Luke's is knowing that something is coming for his friends and there may be nothing he can do to stop it.  The Shadow always reacts to the growth of the Ego and pushes back, reminding the person that there is no growth without a similar amount of pain. This keeps ushumble.  One day we will not struggle, but that day is not this world.

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That's honestly what makes Han's and Leia's brief respite all the more painful. Leia knows something is wrong but she's actually learning to open up to Han and be vulnerable... just in time for Vader to show up. But all is not lost. Lando is already regretting his decision and Leia finally figures it out: she loves Han and saying it won't break her. And, mercifully enough, it comes from the left. Unlike her mother, who was too weak to realize when it's a good idea to stick to your well-intentioned promises, Leia realizes that to not say something here, when it counts the most, is weakness itself. Faced with losing Han she makes the most courageous decision any of us can ever make: she loves Han anyway. And then she lets her heart shatter as Han is taken out of her life. It wasn't a very long moment that Leia did the right thing. But it means a whole lot.  The girl who watched her planet blow up right in front of her has finally healed and, as horrific as it is, she walks away a much stronger and better person for it.  Only you can destroy you.

The Saint Ambrose Prayer Book

Before I begin to actually talk about this prayer book there's a few things you should know about me as a person, so that way my review has context. I am an incredibly practical person when it comes to the spiritual life. My first question is not "is this Orthodox?" but "Does it work?" Because if it brings up interior silence while professing the name of Jesus it is Orthodox. Full stop. However you think the spiritual life works is utterly irrelevant to me. If hesychia is created in your soul because of the synergy with God then it's Orthodox. So that's my metric for this prayerbook (and the Western Orthodox rite in general). Complicated speculation disguised as pious reflections are absolutely useless in spiritual combat and I've no time for it.  This doesn't negate the need for solid theology, doctrine, dogma, and a spiritual father, but ultimately the spiritual life is a practical matter, not a speculative one. If that's something you find offensive my apologies, but considering the amount of time and heart (not to mention wondrous silence) put into the Western rite I feel it's best to leave aside whatever gets away from my central question: does it work?

Until I read this prayerbook I'll confess that I did not really understand the Western rite, Orthodox or Catholic. Part of this is the incredibly bad catechesis of the Roman Catholic Church, particularly when I was a child. But that's just a contributing factor, to be honest, because I don't think I've ever been Western. The beauty and the overwhelming grandeur of God has always been what's reached out to me, so much so that it's impossible to understand how on earth anyone could do anything else. I know I'm hardly alone in that; I've never met an Easterner who didn't have a little bit of triumphalist in them. And why shouldn't we? What Easterners do works. And, after living in a world that many of us find almost completely meaningless without God, why shouldn't we have some feeling of triumph in ourselves? 

But I found something in this prayer book that was completely different. There's a tenderness, a specificity, to the prayers in this book that are not usually found in the East. The prayers feel smaller in the same way that a tender caress is smaller than a day in the life of a married couple. One could focus more on the day itself and say "the day went well, thank God!", but one could also say "that quick caress changed everything that day", and both would be equally valid.  It's just a question of approach. Which level do you primarily work on?

This difference in approach is shown in the physical product. It's small, easy to fit into your pocket. The leather-ish is very soft and is a pleasing black, with gilt edges. The paper's a nice white and there's the golden iHs on the front and back. Picking up this book is comfortable and comforting. When I first held the book I wondered why it was so small and I felt a bit gipped  by how small it was. But the more I hold it and look through it the more the production value stands out.

The prayers themselves are unabashedly Western: the specific requests that are relatively rare in the Eastern mindset are bread and butter here.

Most Holy and adorable Trinity, one God in three Persons, I believe that Thou art here present; I adore Thee with the deepest humility, and render to Thee, with my whole heart, the homage which is due to Thy sovereign majesty. -pg 28

 Like said previously, it's the specificity, the tenderness, the wish to not bruise a reed, that stands out. It's not a state of mind that I can do, although it is helpful in getting me to understand  my own self as an Eastern Christian. And, occasionally, I may find myself in this war we call life in a state where I am a lot more fragile than that reed. 

There's one thing that stands out: the Devotion to the Sacred Heart. For most Orthodox this is incredibly controversial, verging on (if not running with neon signs) heresy.The devotion has been edited to evoke more the Orthodox sense of what the heart of Jesus actually is. Uberdox will balk even at this, claiming that nothing Western can be salvaged. Going back to my first ideological point (If it works do it and hang what you think of it) I decided to add the short prayers in the book to my Rule of Pachomius. Nothing stood out as wrong to me and, if anything, deepened my appreciation of the mercy of our Lord, something I'm always in need of reminding. There's nothing in the devotion, as presented, that doesn't work. And that's as far as the criticism should go, as far as I'm concerned. 

There's a lot to this book, surprisingly so. Father John Winfrey has packed in lots and lots of content, including two liturgies, morning and evening prayers, Stations of the Cross, the Rosary, the list goes on and on.  I won't pretend to go through the whole thing. But the prayers are beautiful and (most important) useful. Argue all you like about the Western Orthodox, I really don't care. I'll be happily dipping into this book to supplement my prayer rule and showing my children that there is more than one way to evoke hesychia. There's no harm if they can't use the Jesus Prayer or Eastern prayers to help them evoke silence, because the Western rite exists. I'm very thankful for that.

Empire Strikes Back: The Opener

See that ending bit? Vader is looking specifically for Luke. Vader knows. Can you imagine, finding out that not only did your wife not die by your hand, but that she gave birth and the child survived her and you almost shot him down? For nineteen years you've been laboring under the delusion that you caused your wife's death and now you know that the one person that you thought you could trust was lying to you. How would you react?

Kinda like this?

Yeah, I'd be pretty pissed off too. And who else would you trust at this point to rule the galaxy? Certainly not Palpatine, right? Nope, it's time to take control. Anakin, for all his myriad flaws, has always thought himself a family man. That's what he always wanted, after all. Well, now he can have it. Screw Palpatine, the Jedi, the Rebellion, the galaxy, everything but his son can burn for all he cares. And so he sends out probes looking for the Rebellion, cause he knows that to find the Rebellion is to find Luke. He seems awfully crotchety throughout this movie too, killing as many admirals as he can for pretty much any reason. One could argue he's reasserting his dominance after losing The Death Star three years ago... or that he's clearing out the Navy's top brass so it's easier to take over when the time comes. That's just speculation on my part, who knows what's actually going on? Vader certainly doesn't say. And, truthfully, it's not relevant. He wants Luke. That's what matters. How's that for a subversion??

Luke, for his part, has had three years to... stagnate. Solo became a general in three years after assisting with blowing up the Death Star, and Luke's only a commander?? I mean, sure, Luke's more confident, more assured.... but barely able to pull a lightsaber out of the ground. Fantastic. Talk about a bit of a letdown. Fortunately, at the edge of death, he's finally able to talk to Ben again.He goes to Dagobah as soon as he can.

Left to right

Right to left. This is not an accident.

Han and Leia, for their part, are in continuous conflict. Leia would like to love the relatively safe and incredibly attractive Luke. Yes, being attracted to never-before-seen family members really is a thing, as Turin Turambar of the Silmarillion found out the hard way, pun not intended. But regardless of which dude she's attracted to it's hard for a woman who watched her home planet explode to open up to anyone. So not only has our hero not really advanced but it looks like he's not going to get the girl either! Does anything actually work out for Luke?


As for the Battle of Hoth...

Notice the similarity? Walkers, going right, on a desert planet. Sure, the colors aren't the same, but we'll get to that in The Closer of this episode. Suffice to say the two scenes comment on each other. The similarity of direction is intentional. What may have confused before is now crystal clear: the Jedi really did betray their soul. The Separatists were right to leave, just like the Rebellion. But, unlike the Separatists, the Rebellion is able to get away. Granted, they have to lose a lot of people to do it, but at least they get away. Han and Leia's escape is especially good, because Vader wants them so he can get to Luke. After some fancy flying they find what seems like a nice hiding spot. Well, nice if you think a space slug's stomach is a good place to hide, that is.

Luke, for his part, finally meets Yoda and becomes aware of just how woefully inadequate he is. He really has no idea what he's in for, going to the Jedi for training. He has no idea what they know and only sees the Jedi as warriors. And of course what he sees is not what he'd imagine as a warrior, but just a wrinkly old goblin. If only Luke knew. But Yoda makes an ominous prediction: someday Luke will submit to his fears. It's coming, one way or another. This is not the Luke we knew in A New Hope. His time in the military has changed him, hardened him, made him less trusting. He wants something to affect the outer world, to save his friends. The lives that have ended around him have made Luke spiritually numb.

 And yeah, Luke looks afraid.

But not half as afraid as he does here.
But don't worry, the Sequel Trilogy people don't know Star wars and this doesn't relate at ALL.

A New Hope: The Closer

Kinda weird it's happening from right to left, right? But this is where things get interesting, because the shots are highly reminiscent of the film's opening, almost shot-for-shot. Don't believe me?






Yeah, they diverge after the opening, but it's still a nice call-back, and also offers a deepening of how Star Wars uses right-to-left and left-to-right. The opening fight failed, and this small, ridiculous, assault isn't supposed to work either. This is a suicide mission and Han is very right to call it so.

There's not a whole lot I want to comment on this fantastic turn of events. Luke assumes leadership in a ship he's never flown, working with everyone and everything that will come to him. It's interesting to see how the epic events of Episode I (no, I did not mistype) affect a 19 year old, as opposed to a 9 year old. Luke is old enough to understand exactly what's at stake. Unlike Anakin, who hasn't developed enough to actually appreciate the epic nature of what's at stake, Luke is incredibly aware of what's riding on this assault and is humble enough to be scared by it. And, unlike Anakin, Luke has a deep personal stake in this as well. Biggs has been friends with Luke since he was a kid, who immediately trusts Luke with leadership. So when he goes, Luke has yet another opportunity to turn to the Dark Side and he doesn't. He keeps his perspective, something Anakin was never good at. And yes, he keeps hearing Ben and wondering if he's crazy or not, which is a good sign. He's not confident in himself so much as he must be confident to save everyone, so he is by necessity. But Luke isn't going to make it. He was never going to, the cinematography has always told us that this attack is doomed to failure and it shouldn't be much of a surprise when-

Yeah, I know I control the pacing so saying "On cue" is kinda dumb.
But RIGHT ON CUE.

This time is different. Luke can see who helped him and why the did. Unlike Anakin, who never realized that his ability to destroy the ship was contingent upon Padme's success (a success inspired by him), Luke knows why he was able to destroy the Death Star. His friend, Han, the guy who never seemed to give a crap about anyone, has come around, because of the power of friendship.

AH! KILL IT WITH FIRE!

The episode ends the way it began: with a bunch of soldiers staring at their l
eader(s). Only this time it's the triumph of right and goodness and community over evil and despair and forced conformity. It's a beautiful moment, one full of so much promise, so much hope, so much utter naivete... cause what happens when the twins find out they've been lied to so much? While this is actually a pretty good stopping point for the series there's so much more to explore as Luke and Leia discover more of who they are and what their place in the world is.  At the end of this fourth episode there's a lot of possibilities for where Star Wars can go. But the darkness always has to catch up...

A New Hope: The Subverter

Kinda funny that we're going to an entirely artificial world, kinda like Coruscant, isn't it? But this is part and parcel for what we're going to run into with Star Wars: remixing previous images and, by doing so, creating new meanings within us. Most mythologies do this with words: Joseph the foster-father of Jesus, the son of Jacob, has a dream about Mary's child being the Messiah while Joseph, the son of Jacob, has a dream about him saving his brothers, thousands of years previous. Hercules kills snakes as a baby and is killed by Hydra venom, ending his earthly existence. Padme went to an artificial world looking for help, escorted by two Jedi and someone out for himself. Padme's daughter Leia has been captured by an artificial world and two Force-sensitives along with a guy out for himself go to rescue her. Yes, I just said that Han and Jar Jar fit the same archetypal space.

I hope you feel as... happy... about that as I do...

But that's a digression. Leia's captivity sheds more light on what's actually going on in The Phantom Menace: Padme was Palpatine's puppet and she was truly out of her element, a virtual prisoner on Coruscant. But Ben, Luke, and Han are allowed to see the captivity for what it is, unlike Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Jar Jar.

All of a sudden Obi-Wan is in his element. His teaching style has completely changed since Anakin. Gone is the self-conscious and prideful Obi-Wan that would snap at and publicly embarrass his padawan. In his place is an older, wiser, sadder Ben. His rough edges have been sanded off in the harsh desert of Tatooine in his contemplation of the Force. Ben lets go of Luke in a rare showing of emotion in Star Wars. Having finally met Luke and, giving him the few words of wisdom that he can, Ben heads off to save them all. This is the first good subversion of the entire series: everything actually works out.

Even this

I rag on Obi-Wan a lot. I make no secret that he's one of my least favorite characters of the series, and for good reason: about 95% of the time it's him screwing things up. But not this time. This time Ben steps up and demonstrates that he has finally embraced the present moment, just as he was told to in Episode I. I genuinely believe that Ben could have taken Vader here. That is a hill I will gladly die on. Honestly, what's changed since the last time Vader and Ben fought? Yeah, Vader's a cyborg, so he doesn't tire as easily, but it's proven in ROTJ that Vader can be overpowered and he can be worn out. And Ben has learned new levels of patience since ROTS. So yeah, given enough time I think Ben could have beaten Vader again. But that's not what's needed here. Luke is the Chosen One (another hill I'll gladly die on). Whatever Luke decides to do will work and balance will be achieved. Ben would need a lot of time to get a more cautious Vader into a bad situation to take advantage of. It's implied by this scene that Ben could have become one with the Force at any time he chose and, looking at Luke, he does it to show Luke that there is something more to this life. This act of being utterly present removes Ben in a way that we can interact with him.

Does Luke any understand of what we talked about? Of course not, he's 19 years old! When does anyone actually understand much of anything at 19? But there's a sense of catharsis with Ben's death that-

"Run, Luke, run!" And Luke hears him.

Look at how lazy he is, re-using his images!
He couldn't possibly mean something more by it, right?
Right?

Let's remember: Ben had to be taught to commune with Qui-Gon. Ben was no slouch, having been put on the Council at an early age. But Luke? He hears Ben like it's nothing. In a world where there is no known afterlife Luke not only hears Ben but trusts what he hears, without question. "I can't believe he's gone" is not just the mournful saying of a boy who lost his father figure; he literally can't believe that Ben is gone because the guy was just talking to him! This is the best news we could possibly get. Not all subversions are bad and, since we spent a whole trilogy around a tragedy, this news that Luke is actually spiritually aware is the best we've had in all four movies so far. Everytime I get to this point in the series I almost just turn off the movie, because everything that I personally would have wanted in a narrative is complete. Ben, the true moron of Star Wars, has finally ascended. There is peace for someone, somewhere, in the middle of this mess we call life.

And that's true here, as well, in our world. From Mount Athos to the Himalayans there are people who have figured out how to be at peace, and what happens? The most tragic thing of all: we ignore them. Like Luke we don't even comprehend that things like world peace are not only possible but probable, if only we were to imitate those around us that have had to leave our depressing world in order to find a place where they can find real peace. We just run onboard the Falcon and barely comprehend what's going on.

But this time the subversion ends on a seeming sour note: Darth Vader let the Falcon get away and he's tracking it. But where is Leia taking our heroes? Alderaan has been destroyed, all is lost. There is no place of peace left. (The following was Andy Hauge's idea)

So, pop quiz: without looking it up, who can tell me which one is Earth, Alderaan, Endor, Yavin 4, and Naboo? If you can you're missing my point. By way of imagery Lucas shows that goodness is invincible by way of analogy. As said in "Meditations on the Tarot": "Analogy is not a tenet or postulate... but is the first and principal method (the aleph of the alphabet of methods) whose use facilitates the advancement of knowledge." (pg. 12). Analogy is how we link these five worlds together. Are they the same worlds? Of course not. But are they similar? Absolutely, and by analogy we can lump them together.  And it's by analogy that Star Wars draws us across the movies and it's by analogy that we enter into the myth and advance interiorly. Far from being an "inferior" sense of knowing analogy is the support that we place all other forms of knowledge on, especially for our own inner lives. And since green is usually associated with life and life with goodness these worlds represent the goodness in all of us, somehow. And it survived the fake world blowing it up. Nothing that happens can wipe out anything good in any human being, ever. It may have to morph or change a bit to adapt, but ultimately that spot in the heart of every human being lives on, regardless of what we think happened to it. It just may have moved, that's all.

And in the case of Yavin 4 it may have finally figured out how to weaponize itself. If evil is the weaponization of your pain against yourself and the world how can good possibly hope to win out over evil? By finding the weakness that powers the evil inside of us and removing it. Evil can't subsist on its own, there is no objective evil in the universe. And it doesn't take much, once we figure out what the weak point inside of us is that allows us to move past the vice that threatened us for so long.

I only semi-did that on purpose.