intrige wrote: ↑Sun May 13, 2018 1:35 pm
If we're gonna talk about Eli's morality we can't just talk about what he had to do in order to survive. He fed on people and killed them yes. But what about Oskar and the pool? Eli could have just got in, picked up Oskar and left. But did he? No, he killed one teenager and one child(according to the book). Wouldn't Eli's morality be mssured on such an action then? Because he didn't have to?
Trige, every word of your post is perfectly true, and you said it with a power that echoes through the bones.
The trouble with morality is that it isn't a quarter you can flip to come up with a "right" or a "wrong" answer so much of the time. It's a continuum, and many of the choices we make are "right" in the light of
this line of reasoning but "wrong" in
that light: "damned if you do, damned if you don't", "caught on the horns of a dilemma", and so on.
Another problem with the whole idea of morality to begin with is that it seems to mean so many different things to so many different people. The
wikipedia page discussing it testifies to this difficulty subtly just by being something that Joe Sixpack probably can't read.
Eli's killing three boys at the pool (in the movie) is a graphic case in point. Lots of people seem to feel it was
way over the top because she could have just flown in, grabbed Oskar and flown right back out leaving the boys rubbing sore heads and maybe nursing broken arms. I personally
don't find her response excessive because if confronted with similar circumstances, my own boiling blood might not have left
any survivors. Blood calls for blood. In a consonant but much colder light, if these boys can be moved to gang up and conspire (or even just
permit) the murder of another for no good reason, then they themselves become an enemy to society, and the massacre Eli perpetrated was in practical terms a public service. This doesn't mean I think the people who condemn her massacre are
wrong, it just means I can't find it in myself to agree.
We do what we have to in order to survive, and sometimes we do what we have to do because our needs and our passions leave us little choice. This, too, is a law of human nature. It's the first and foremost law of all living things.
On one end of the "moral spectrum" we have some disreputable so-and-so bashing people over the head with a hammer for the money in their pockets. Without knowing why he's doing that rather than just getting a job, it's pretty clear he's a criminal (i.e., morally transgressive) and needs to go to jail for a while. Life is full of head-bashers.
On the other end of that same spectrum are people like cops and firefighters. When their phones ring, they know very well answering them might mean not living to see the sun set. They're not slaves (not in my country, anyway), and they, too, have a choice. They can decide not to answer that phone, they can tell their bosses where to put those phones. Most of the time, they
do answer, and they
do go running pell-mell into burning buildings and rabid crowds. They get shot, they get beaten up, they get bones broken when buildings fall on them, they spend time in the hospital getting poked full of holes and eating horrible food, and then they scoot right back to their phones, ready to do it all over again. It's just what they do.
For what reason do you suppose they'd value the lives of people they don't even know over their own? I have to believe it's because they believe in something, and they keep doing it even after their jobs have corroded them into something barely recognisable as fully human, because they still believe in what they're doing. These guys will protect themselves, yes, and they'll protect their families and their friends, but they'll also protect their worlds, and their worlds don't end at their living room doors. Life is full of these guys, too.
Most of us are somewhere between the head-bashers and the world-savers, and most of us are never tempted (or forced) into bashing heads or called on to help save the world. We'll still jump behind the steering wheel after we've had a couple too many beers and drive ourselves home, and we'll still do the dishes for Mom even when we'd really rather be upstairs playing computer games. We're not wholly sinners, and we're not wholly saints, we're just regular people.
But we
could be forced, and we
could be called on. Wouldn't you steal a loaf of bread if you had no other way to feed your starving kids? Would you have unprotected intimacy with your Significant Other if you had HIV and your SO didn't?
This is essentially how I view the concept of morality: "as ye harm none, do as thou wilt". Simply put, not so simply lived: "harm" runs a gamut from hurt feelings to whole fields of graves of murdered people. "Do as thou wilt" is the recognition that we have our individual things to want or need, and we're not going to take any guff from anybody because of it; "As ye harm none" is the conviction that we have responsibilities towards other people just as we expect other people to be bound by their responsibilities towards
us. What they "wilt" ain't always so good for
us.
People reading about Eli's massacre in the papers might not have the whole story. Assuming the authorities could piece enough of it together to form a coherent and faithful picture of what factually happened in just those few minutes, Joe Sixpack would understand from the newspaper that one of the kids (just
one) held another boy's head under the water while brandishing a knife, and the other two kids were just standing around watching it happen. Was this kid really trying to kill Oskar? "Naw", says Joe Sixpack, "them's just boys being boys, happens all the time, nobody ever dies". The authorities probably wouldn't have the time, the manpower or - truth be told - the interest to probe more deeply than that, and wouldn't understand the massacre in the context of the history of steadily worsening abuse Oskar's had to endure. Even if he knew the whold story, as we do, Joe Sixpack would still claim that nobody actually had to die, but he wouldn't be able to say it with the same simple conviction.
We
do know the whole story. Well, we know bargeloads more of it than what the newspapers would have told us, and this is part of the problem we have with assessing Eli's moral stature. We see the desperate loneliness - we see Oskar suffocating long before he gets anywhere near the pool. We see the pas de deux the two kids dance, we see them learning about each other, growing closer, and choosing to be together no matter what. It's very sweet, and the movie leaves most of us wandering away with stupid sappy smiles on our faces. We see in them something we'd like to be for ourselves, something we'd like to be
doing for ourselves:
with somebody as a soul mate.
We want to
be those kids at the end of the movie, and if loving them is wrong, then we don't want to be right.
Eli probably doesn't know that she destroyed Lacke when she ate Jocke and set (or worsened) conditions for driving a wedge between Lacke and Virginia. She watched over Tommy, presumably for Oskar's sake but possibly because she didn't really want to cause death when it wasn't needed as a matter of principle, so maybe if she'd known what could happen to Lacke, she might have skipped on over to the other side of town to have somebody else's day ruined - somebody she doesn't know, somebody who can't touch her. Somebody whose pain she doesn't have to see and feel.
We know all about Lacke's pain, though, and if my personal example is any indicator, it's just a remote blip on a radar, something to talk about when we talk about exactly
this kind of thing. It be (the English language has no narrative!) not something to be bothered by or concerned with otherwise. In effect, Lacke's whole arc was just a series of events meant to lead up to the confrontation in the bathroom to force Eli to skip town. He was just a prop on a movie set.
In this way, I can see what Eli is talking about when she says that "yes, that's unfortunate" when Oskar comments on all the people who have to die for her. I should be able to identify with Lacke much better because I'm also an old man, and I shouldn't be able to identify with Oskar or Eli at all because childhood was literally in another millennium for me. I don't, and I do, and I can't be a "fair and impartial moral judge" for this reason.
Eli ate Jocke and Lacke, and tried to eat Virginia. Abby ate Larry (I think was his name) and the cop, and tried to eat Virginia. In the cases of Jocke, Larry, Virginia and Virginia, this was the beast needing to feed and not Eli or Abby committing some morally indefensible crime - at least, not directly, and not immediately. In Lacke's and the cop's cases, this was straight up self defense, and I attach precisely zero moral substance to these cases because if you invade MY bathroom with a knife or gun, you'll be sailing out the window in broken little
pieces (if I catch you invading my daughter's bathroom, your demise will be considerably less comfortable).
Seriously, no single specific thing in either the novel or the movie that I can remember that Eli or Abby actually did makes me think she's morally irredeemable. When seen in a particular way, nothing either girl did is actually wrong. Her needs simply outweighed the needs of the people she destroyed.
That's the short term view, and it's in the context of the law of the jungle. Eli's (and Abby's) view isn't "short term" - she's old enough to be my maiden great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great AUNT, for crying out loud, and even if she's only twelve years old, she's had plenty of time to consider where she is and ponder if this is where she really wants to be.
And, we don't live in a jungle.
Joe Sixpack would say that she's either human, or she's not. If she isn't, we have no more responsibility towards her well-being, feelings, rights, health, safety or peace of mind than we would towards any other rabid dog. If Joe Sixpack agrees that she
is human, things get stickier because we have to recognise her right to expect we'll treat her as such, but we'll also have the right to demand she'll recognise the same in and for
us. Conflict! - this, precisely, is what she can't do.
It's been said that one of hallmarks of human intelligence is the ability to entertain paradox without being destroyed by it. I'm guessing I'm not very intelligent.
"Yes", she says, "that's unfortunate". She also implicitly admits to herself that her continued survival is fundamentally wrong, that she can't have anything (
because you should be dead). She keeps on doing it, and she keeps on running away when things start looking a little hot. This almost necessarily assigns to her the moral status of "small child or adult moral imbecile" in that the constraints placed on her existence don't allow her the luxury of thinking in larger moral terms than just "don't get caught".