October 30th, 1987. Bill Moyers sits with Joseph Campbell to discuss the hero’s journey in a series that would later be named, The Power of Myth. In their first hour of conversation, Campbell references the inevitable tension between serving oneself and serving humanity using Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker as examples.
“This thing up here,” says Campbell, pointing to his head, “this consciousness, thinks it’s running the shop. It’s a secondary organ. It’s a secondary organ of a total human being and it must not put itself in control. It must submit and serve the humanity of the body.
“When it does put itself in control, you get this father [Darth Vader], the man who’s gone over to the intellectual side. He is not living in terms of humanity. He’s living in terms of a system, and this is the threat to our lives. We all face it. We all operate in our society in relation to a system.
“Now, is the system going to eat you up and relieve you of your humanity or are you going to be able to use the system to human purposes?”
Moyers considers Campbell’s argument and asks, reasonably, how to change the system. But Campbell is disinterested in changing systems. He’s only interested in what he can control, in what we can control, and that’s our choices, saying, “I don’t think it would help you to change the system, but it would help you to live in the system as a human being.”
Moyers again considers Campbell’s response and pushes back, taking on the persona of a skeptic, arguing, “That’s all well and good for the imagination of a George Lucas, for the scholarship of a Joseph Campbell, but that isn’t what happens in my life.”
But before Moyers can get the rest of the phrase out of his mouth, before he can finish, “…but that isn’t what happens in my life,” Campbell anticipates the dismissal and has no tolerance for it, saying, “You bet it does.”
David, the shepherd, tells Saul, the king, some version of “You bet it does” when he advocates to square off against the Philistine, Goliath in 1 Samuel 17. Goliath is not unlike Darth Vader in his ability to invoke fear with stature and presence alone.
The Israelite army, and its king among them, thinks in systems. Power is achieved through dominance. Size is strength, therefore bigger is stronger and the loudest most bombastic voice is mightiest. Saul and his army are duped by the shiny bronze armor, the antagonistic shouting and bullying of Goliath, challenging Israel’s mightiest warriors to face him in battle, negging them to descend into the valley, into despair, into death.
Goliath is performing, and it is a well-prepared performance, playing off of Saul’s anxiety, his vanity, and his fear; and because Israel’s king is vain and fearful, Israel’s army has become vain and fearful as well, susceptible to the blustering of a blowhard confident in his ability to bully his way to victory, to dominance, to the submission of his opponent.
Along comes a shepherd, visiting the battlefield at the request of his father, bringing grain to feed his soldier brothers and cheese to gift their superiors. David is not one to draw inside the lines, nor one to adhere to, nor respect, the systems constructed by men; he is armed only with cheese and grain.
David is not intimidated by the six cubits and a span, he is not impressed by the bronze, nor startled by the braggadocio performance of Goliath. He is immune to the drama of Goliath. David simply sees yet another predator, no different from the bear and lion that come to take his family’s sheep. He hears Goliath’s taunts, and he is offended, questioning who dares to challenge the people of Israel and, by extension, the living God.
David is not burdened by the hierarchy of a system, nor his place within it. He shares characteristics with nearly all Lana and Lilly Wachowski protagonists, having little tolerance for the constructed system in which they live. David is not interested in changing systems. Such a lofty goal for one person would be as obtuse, and ego driven, as Goliath and his taunts. Instead, David’s focus is singular. He is confident he has the tools to resolve this specific conflict and advocates for the charge to do so.
In the previous chapter, 1 Samuel 16, David is anointed to be Israel’s future king by the prophet Samuel. After his anointment, David does not mount a glorious steed and ride it to a palace and challenge Saul for the thrown of Israel, nor does he don a bejeweled crown. David does not even consider elevating his status within his own family unit, amongst his father and brothers who bore witness to his anointing. Rather, David continues to tend sheep. It is an earnestness not unlike John Boorman’s Arthur in Excalibur.
Perceived vulnerability is David’s strength. Day in and day out, he dutifully serves his father as a shepherd, protecting the family’s sheep from the claws and mouths of hungry predators. Choices made daily as a shepherd, brother, and son prepare David for his descent into the Valley of Elah and his confrontation with Goliath.
Once convinced to send David into battle, Saul provides him armor for protection, but David refuses it. He goes into the valley as a shepherd, with only his staff visible, a few stones in a pouch, and a sling. David trades what is believed to be protective armor for his authentic self. What others mistake as vulnerability is David’s earned strength.
David’s arc is not unlike recent choice narratives. Campbell offers Luke Skywalker. Richard Donner, begrudgingly, with some help from Richard Lester, offers Kal-El, and piggybacking on Donner’s narrative, Sam Raimi offers Peter Parker. Return of the Jedi, Superman II, and Spider-man 2; all 3 protagonists navigate their own Davidic journey in that the multitude of their choices make the consequential heroic choices all that easier.
Culturally, David’s confrontation with Goliath is nothing more than a tall tale, an early iteration of a Jack and the Beanstalk story. Spiritually, it can be misunderstood as a testament of unyielding, if not blind, faith. Yes, David’s faith in the God of Israel is strong. Yes, David is outraged with Goliath’s obtuse blasphemy, but it is not David’s love nor loyalty that protects him from Goliath and compels him to victory. It’s how he chose to live his love and loyalty that helps and guides David to victory over yet another predator. It’s the culmination of who David has chosen to be over and over again that prepares him for this moment.
The thesis of Tom Tykwer, and Lana and Lilly Wackowski’s Cloud Atlas is summed up in a few words in the film’s final act when spoken by one of Jim Sturgess’ many characters, Adam Ewing. Adam’s father-in-law accosts him for his choice to be an abolitionist, saying, “No matter what you do it will never amount to anything more than a single drop in a limitless ocean,” Considering these words, Ewing responds, “Yet what is an ocean but a multitude of drops?”
When making choices daily, we are preparing for confrontations with imposing giants who intend to do harm. Whether these giants are literally six cubits and a span, more machine now than man, or a system that serves itself, they feed on fear and anxiety, encouraging doubt, which stymies acts of kindness.
Maybe this is all well and good for Luke Skywalker and David, Superman and Spider-man, and the full Wachowski bullpen, but is this what can happen in our lives? Do simple choices of kindness make a difference and prepare us for the more consequential and complicated choices that are surely coming? To borrow from Joseph Campbell, “You bet they do!”
Good stuff, as always.