Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Online Response #5: The Fountain, Death, and Kant


Tommy and Izzi, husband and wife in The Fountain, regard death very differently.  When Izzi first reveals her sickness in the bathtub, she explains why she has delayed in telling Tommy about her increasing inability to sense hot and cold: “Because I feel different inside…I feel different.  Every moment.  Each one.”  The supersensible perceptions of her sickness take precedence over the literal loss of her senses.  As her cancer progresses, Izzi, unlike Tommy, who becomes more and more desperate, accepts the inevitability of her passing with eagerness.  Speaking of her fall at the museum, she says, “I wasn’t afraid…when I fell, I was full, held.”  It’s clear in this scene that Tommy and Izzi, while speaking to each other, do not understand each other.  In response to Izzi’s reassurance, Tommy replies, “I know.  I caught you.  I held you.”  His memory deals with the sensible world, the sight of Izzi falling, the feeling of lifting her up.  Her welcoming attitude towards death is mental, internal, and places her in the supersensible world, at odds with Tommy and his goals.  For Tommy the idea of death is terrifying; for Izzi it is beautiful.  To illustrate death’s beauty, Izzi recounts a story she heard from Moses Morales, her tour guide when she visited Mayan ruins.  The story, which involves heavy doses of Mayan legend, ends with Izzi paraphrasing a theme: “Death was his father’s road to awe.”  Izzi experiences death’s beauty in a Kantian sense, as she is able to view it arguably disinterested, differently than someone with full health, like Tommy. 



We desire that which is agreeable; Kant uses hunger to demonstrate this idea: “Hunger is the best sauce; and to people with a healthy appetite anything is tasty provided it is edible.  Hence if people have a liking of this sort, that does not prove that they are selecting by taste.”  Tommy, in comparison, desires immortality.  Not only does Tommy desire immortality; by dint of his profession, he believes he will create a means for immortality (in fact, his last name, “Creo,” means “I believe,” but what he believes is different than what Izzi believes).  What he desires is physical immortality, and he has a vested interest: his wife.  He wants to prolong his time with her, as evidenced by the repetitious memories of his sensible experiences: the sight of a healthy Izzi with long hair, wearing a red dress, beckoning him to follow, the feel of the hairs on her neck as he leans in close to her.  If Tommy desires, or better put, “needs,” to find a way to immortality, it follows that he fears death.  In the three categories of Kantian judgment, “agreeable” never rises above the subjective.  It is always sensible because it satisfies a physical need, or desire, which leaves the subject unable to judge the object in an unbiased manner.  What we fear, the corollary to what we desire, is also subjective.  The biological imperative to survive is assumed in most healthy things, but what does one near death feel about survival?  Tommy meets resistance when he assumes his desire is universal, both when he informs Izzi of the new discoveries that will help her and when he fights with his lab partners, the latter frustrated at his attempt to play God in the face of scientific ethics. 

Tommy’s desire to achieve immortality is an attempt at transcendence, but one does not transcend death by being forever mortal.  His self-perception as conqueror (helped by a certain amount of projection in the conquistador story of Izzi’s book, definitely not an object in itself) of his wife’s cancer leads him to view her as an object of the sensible realm.  Izzi’s body is a vessel, which, although living, is susceptible to all manner of wear and tear, not unlike a tree.  Izzi as tree does figure prominently in one of the film’s narratives as Tom, bald and meditative, accompanies her to Xibalba.  In a scene involving Tom and the tree, Izzi/Isabel appears, tying together each of the three different narratives and leading Tom to his first feeling of true transcendence, a harmony of the sensible and supersensible.  Up to this point, Tom has arguably viewed death as sublime.  His “imagination strives to progress toward infinity, while [his] reason demands absolute totality as a real idea.”  As he struggles to conquer the unconquerable, he grows frustrated at Izzi’s demand to “finish it.”  Finish what—the book or the belief that he will live forever?  It is not death, “the object,” that is sublime, “but the attunement that the intellect [gets] through a certain presentation that occupies reflective judgment.”  The more Tommy convinces himself of the possibility of immortality via scientific discovery, the more terrified he is of death, an object that exceeds the capacity of his senses.  With Izzi’s encouragement, Tom acknowledges that he will die, which will ultimately reunite them: “Together we will live forever.”  Like Izzi, Tom’s view of death, not an object in itself, has changed, and it is now beautiful to him. 

      

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