Monday, September 23, 2013

Two Opposing Themes

         A few days ago, I saw the new Star Trek Movie Into Darkness. Of all the things that were in this movie, two opposing themes stuck with me. (WARNING: if you have not seen Into Darkness, then DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. I'm about to spoil the movie.)
         The first theme that I noticed concerned the value of life. At many times, in many places, and in many ways, the filmmakers brought attention to the fact that life has worth. In the opening scene, Spock almost gave his life for the natives of a world that was about to be destroyed by a volcanic eruption. His comrades, in desperation, broke the prime directive so that they could beam him to safety. By so doing, they demonstrated that the many are sometimes willing to go to great lengths to save just one friend from trouble.
         Later on, a Starfleet officer killed several of his superiors, and escaped to the planet Kronos. Captain Kirk was therefore ordered to hunt this man down and kill him (or rather, Kirk requested permission to go). When Spock heard about this order, however, he objected that it is entirely unjust to kill a man without a trial. Although Kirk at first argued with Spock over this point, he eventually relented and decided only to capture the man and bring him back to Earth for court martial.
          In yet another instance, the Starfleet officer (who happened to be Khan) was about to be blasted to bits by special torpedoes. Khan, perhaps to the slight confusion of Kirk and Spock and Uhura, asked how many torpedoes they had. "72," they respond. Then, oddly enough, the villain laid down his weapon and surrendered. Only later was it revealed that these 72 torpedoes contained Khan's 72 fellow genetically altered humans. Khan had surrendered in order to save their lives.
          Sometimes, the characters were willing even to preserve the lives of their enemies. When Khan demanded that Spock lower his shields so that he could beam out his 72 precious torpedoes, Spock complied. But he had armed the weapons before they were transported; the torpedoes exploded, heavily damaging Khan's starship. When Kirk had heard the news he objected to the massacre of Khan's crew. But Bones said, "Spock's cold, but he's not that cold." It turned out that the doctor had emptied the torpedoes before returning them to Khan.
           Of course, there is one last story to tell concerning the value of life. At the end of the movie, Kirk saw that the only way to save the enterprise from a collision with Earth was to fix the warp core--but if he did, it was almost certain that he would die. And so with one last redeeming effort, Kirk gave his life to save his crew.
           That was the first theme that I noticed. The second was very different. From early on, it was clear that this was also story about revenge. Kirk was eaten up by a desire to avenge himself on Khan, who had murdered Admiral Pike, the only father-figure Kirk had ever had. Kirk did decide to get Khan a proper trial, but he hated Khan ever after. Instead of murdering Khan, Kirk severely beat him up before taking him up to the Enterprise as his hostage.
           Disappointingly, Spock also went down the path of revenge. After Kirk died, Spock hated Khan vehemently. He thought (illogically--hey, I thought Vulcans were logical!) that Khan had murdered Kirk--or rather, he blamed Kirk's death on Khan. (This was unreasonable of him. Kirk, and Kirk alone, had chosen to die.) When he had the chance, he went to beat the brains out of Khan, just as Kirk had done before him.
           In conclusion, I find that these two themes, put together in the same movie, are quite contradictory. Even as they protected the lives of those around them, some of the characters ignored the fact that revenge goes against the sound principle that seemed to have been upheld through most of the movie, the principle that all life is valuable. The presence of this contradiction was only brought more to home during Kirk's speech at the end of the movie, where Kirk acted as though revenge was wrong (even though, for the last two hours, the filmmakers had been portraying revenge in a different light). What are we to make of this contradiction?
          I hope this was thought provoking.
             

Monday, September 9, 2013

Latin--Why??

            Over the past year or so (maybe longer), I have been studying Latin using the Henle books provided by Memoria press. Now that I've gotten this far, I can actually orally construct some sentences on the spot with which I can say something useful and meaningful, so sometimes I walk around speaking the language. But I have two major problems: the first is that I have no one around me with whom I can speak Latin; the second is that some of the people around me have a deep-seated distaste for the language. Perhaps I cannot get near people who do speak Latin, and perhaps I cannot convince those who hate Latin to like the language, but I think that I really must say something in defense of it. Therefore, I will deal with these following points: (1) the claim that Latin is a dead language, (2) the apparent uselessness of Latin, and (3) the "impossibility" of learning Latin.
            (1) I have several times been met with the (apparently infallible and irrefutable) claim that Latin is a dead language. But what, may I ask, do people mean exactly when they use this term? There are two possibilities: either (a) "no longer used as a vehicle of communication", or (b) "no longer identified as the language of any country". If people use (a), they simply do not speak the truth. A minority of people worldwide still use Latin. If people decide on (b) then they do speak the truth; Latin is no longer the language of any country, and this has been so for centuries. But a look back at history makes even this definition of the word "dead" sound a little ironic, for although Latin was not the language of any country in years past, it was universally used and understood by all the scholars in Christendom. Sadly, that is not the case today, but it was so once.
            (2) I think that something needs to be said about Latin's uses, it's usefulness. It is useful, though it may not appear to be so, and though "usefulness" is not the only thing we should consider here. For what reasons should people study Latin? There are three kinds: (a) in order to learn grammar, (b) in order to learn word roots, and (c) in order to read the classics. These three reasons are not mutually exclusive; one can learn Latin for all of the above reasons. I'll deal with the first two; I will have to deal with the third some other time, though it is even more important than the other two.
            (a) The first reason to study Latin is to learn the structure of language. But why study Latin grammar? Why not English grammar? The answer is simple: Latin is an inflected language, which means that almost all of its nouns change form to show their function in a sentence. English rarely does this, except with personal pronouns, relative pronouns, and possessives. This absence of inflection, along with many inconsistencies, makes English grammar subtle and difficult. On the other hand, Latin grammar is very consistent, and this makes it easy to learn--if you only take the time and trouble (and if you have a good curriculum).
             (b) The second reason to study Latin is to learn word roots. The vocabulary of the English language (and of many other languages for that matter) relies heavily on that of Latin. Latin vocabulary is so pervasive in English that every other word is of Latin origin. If you know your vocab, then in order to understand a particular word, all you have to do is pick it apart and translate it.
             (3) Now I come to my last point: the "impossibility" of learning Latin. From some conversations with my friends and with others, I gather that there is a lot of frustration attached to the learning of this language. Not only that, but I'm certain that I know what causes this frustration: a lack of grammar. A couple friends of mine, when I asked them, described their Latin courses to me, and one thing seems to be certain: they were either stuck with courses that taught little or no grammar, or they simply did not want to learn the grammar that was being taught, or the course required them to dump immense amounts of grammar into their brains in too short a time. Whatever the case, they were not learning the grammar. But how else will anyone learn the language? When learning how to play a game or play an instrument or argue a point or write a book, what must first be done? One must learn the rules, of course. Otherwise, one will be totally lost in the subject and not understand its structure. Why shouldn't this principle apply to Latin as well? I think that some people, sadly enough, would prefer to learn the language without learning the grammar--but this would be a grave mistake, and would lead to all sorts of frustration later on. Latin grammar must be learned first and learned well, and constantly drilled and memorized--not too quickly, but at a pace at which a student can slowly master all of it. This process of learning the grammar takes time, but in the end it all pays off very well. I myself am a witness to that fact.
              I hope that with this article I have sparked some interest in this apparently dead language. It is a language that I believe deserves to live on, to be spoken, and to be appreciated. I hope that many others think the same.