Okay, fellow fangirls, admit it: you are some smart, sexy readers. And while sexiness definitely has its place, our brains allow us to enjoy the best of what genre work has to offer.
There are “Philosophy of…” books for just about anything nerdy these days (check the sister blog for an excellent post on the philosophy of superheroes). This is partly because science fiction/horror/urban fantasy/what have you allows us to explore high-fallutin’ ideas in an accessible way–by making the situations big, stylized, and occasionally totally over-the-top; however, the characters are often deeply rooted in conflicts and struggles that are as classic as you get. The search for meaning is an easy example, but this is tied in with another struggle that has become highly prevalent in nerd pop culture as of late: the nature of destiny.
Take, for instance, the latest Doctor Who special, (David Tennant’s penultimate outing as the 10th Doctor) which aired on the BBC this week. The stresses of being The Last of His Kind, The Last of the Time Lords has been getting to the Doctor more and more–this isn’t terribly new. After all, the Master died in his arms after refusing to regenerate, companion after companion left him for one reason or another, even his tin bloody dog got a new owner (The Sarah Jane Adventures is adorable, though, so it’s hard to get too mad). But, after all of this, after saving the Earth and reality as we know it–thanklessly–for the zillionth time, the Doctor picked up on the fact that he isn’t long for this world, with little more to go on than the vague clue “he will knock four times.” Whether this means true death or another intensely painful regeneration, he doesn’t know. It does, however, make him question his place in keeping time the way it “should” be, if his dying “must” be.
For those who aren’t familiar with Doctor Who (especially nuWho, a.k.a. 9th Doctor and beyond), a bit of backstory: the Doctor has mentioned on a few occasions that most time is in flux, but the big things? They always happen, they’re destined. This is how he adventures about time and space with fairly little consequence–he shifts some details here and there on occasion, but it’s not like he exits the TARDIS to find the Nazis won WWII, you know? An example of a “fixed” event would be what happened at Pompeii: that city must always burn. Always. Too many crucial elements of the future depend on Pompeii’s destruction for it not to happen (if you’re wondering, yes, the Doctor is responsible for letting the volcano erupt). It is revealed in “Waters of Mars” that “fixed points in time” are a concept of the former Time Lord society, and that the Doctor has observed this for the entirety of his journeys without question. But, as a man who knows he will not die that day (no knocks!), something inside the Doctor’s brain breaks a little on that Mars base. He brazenly–and in a manner that is fairly frightening–saves the doomed crew, those poor souls that were meant to die, had to die that day. The Doctor gets a maniacal look in his eye (a look more than a little reminiscent of the Master, of all people) and essentially proclaims himself a god, really playing up the Lord part of Time Lord. However, the captain of the Mars mission puts two and two together, concludes that her continued life goes against nature and humanity’s brilliant future, and kills herself moments after they’re all safely back on Earth. That which is destined will always occur, Time Lord or no Time Lord, and the Doctor learns a cruel lesson.
Another show that is currently dealing with destiny in a very direct, we’ll-go-Calvinist-on-all-your-asses way is Supernatural. Both Winchester boys have had a “special destiny” at one point or another (when you base your show on Campbell’s hero’s journey, ala Star Wars, that shit is bound to happen…though to be fair, Dean is pretty awesome as a modern, highly intelligent, slightly redneck Han Solo): Sam was a “special child” of the Azazel, the Yellow-Eyed Demon; Dean was pulled from Hell by the armies of Heaven to do the work of God; this season, it turns out that both boys are destined to be vessels for the biggest, most badass angels of all: Lucifer and Michael. For four seasons, Sam and Dean have tried to avoid their destinies. They’ve cheated death a ridiculously high number of times, they’ve tried to piece together what’s happening to them at any given time (still usually a few steps behind whatever force is running the show…destiny, thy name is Eric Kripke), but for four seasons their efforts have done little more than add a sense of futility to the proceedings. More often than not, avoiding their destinies has directly caused destiny-fulfilling events to occur. This became even more apparent with the introduction of the charmingly alcoholic prophet Chuck–when you see your life story written down before it happens, you start to lose faith in your own sense of free will.
What makes the fifth and current season special is that the Winchester boys are not running from their destinies any longer; rather, they’re facing them head on and saying “fuck you.” Dean and his angel buddy Castiel (IDK my BFF Cas!) are hunting down archangels and demanding answers, all the while refusing to be–and forgive the expression, but Dean’s colloquialisms are just too good–angel condoms for Lucifer and Michael.
Are Sam and Dean doomed to their supposed destinies? Didn’t that one episode that one time show that all is written and shall always come to pass? Well, dear readers, the answer is maybe. It’s been pretty much established that past events are set in stone (i.e., the episode “In the Beginning”, where Dean plays Back to the Future–now with more angels!–and while trying to save his younger parents, inadvertently sets up a causal loop which set in motion the events of the entire freaking series), but the future seems like it may be up for grabs. Some of the more powerful angels can run elaborate virtual reality-style scenarios to determine possible outcomes for the apocalypse, but enough details–significant details–have been altered since the last time the archangel Zachariah pulled that particular stunt that those projections don’t necessarily hold of ton of weight. Since one of this season’s main storylines is Castiel’s search for God–for realsies, dear readers–it’s fairly safe to assume that God will show up as an actual character at some point and pull the most epic deus ex machina ending of ALL TIME. And, since God is theoretically the Alpha and the Omega and all that jazz, wouldn’t that mean the outcome is still fixed? Does God have a vested interest in the destinies of angels and men, especially once events are already set in motion? How about demons? It’s enough to make your head spin, and unless God turns out to be a skee-ball playing Alanis Morissette I won’t be completely satisfied anyway, so let’s move on.
While the previous two examples featured predominantly male characters (though one could argue for the “destinies” of female companions on Doctor Who, especially particularly awesome ones like Donna Noble and Rose Tyler, who during their tenure as companions became inexorably entangled not just in time and space, but time and space between parallel universes), it is important to note the overwhelming number of female characters who have rocked the sexy boots of destiny. While organizing this article, I couldn’t help but laugh a little every time I started a sentence with “[character name] and his/her special destiny…”, when that phrase was first attributed to Kara “Starbuck” Thrace of the rebooted Battlestar Galactica.
Also on Battlestar, the cylon hybrid–a.k.a “that schizophrenic lady in the murky tub”–acted almost as an oracle or a prophet, spouting half-nonsense, half-Jesus-Christ-monkey-balls revelations.
Buffy Summers of Buffy the Vampire Slayer deserves her own article regarding struggles with destiny (and I’m sure they’re out there–we live in a world where “Buffy scholar” is an actual job title at certain universities, which is fabulous): she accepted and subsequently rejected her Slayer-dom numerous times, at one point running away from home and working in a sketchy diner for tips to avoid her calling. But, as trouble seems to always find the Slayer, even then she was forced to step up and do what must be done. Buffy’s ever-evolving opinion of her Slayer destiny is most interesting, then, when in the series finale she allowed and even encouraged Willow to complete a rite that allowed for a dozen Slayers-in-wait to join in on the fun (before that moment it was understood that only one Slayer may be called to serve at a time).
One important link between all of these examples is the fact that nearly everyone listed has died and been given new life at least once–is this a prerequisite for the fulfillment of a hero’s destiny, or merely a strange quirk common to overwrought material? Of course, a main character staying dead (you know, when it’s no longer the season break) poses obvious story issues, but each example listed has also used resurrection and rebirth as vehicles to deal with–or at least acknowledge–their characters’ psychological issues. In so doing, these characters often better understand (though still not always accept) their destinies after taking a trip into that white light/hellfire/nothingness.
Speaking of series’ writers and creators, perhaps the idea of destiny tied in with death is so prevalent because the Joss Whedons of the world (or, if you prefer, the Eric Kripkes, Ronald D. Moores, and Russell T. Davies of the world) fancy themselves deterministic Gods with a sadistic streak? They created these rich worlds with fascinating characters, after all…so, like a child with a magnifying glass on a hot sidewalk, they delight in setting their little ants aflame. And isn’t that the point? Vonnegut said once: “Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them–in order that the reader may see what they are made of.” Were there no suffering, no growth, would destiny matter at all?
