With these iconic words, the filmmaker George Lucas introduced the world to Star Wars, arguably the most successful science fiction or fantasy franchise of all time.
Over the past month or so, my wife, Leah, and I have binge-watched our way through much of the Star Wars saga -- and it must admit, it has been thoroughly entertaining. I say this as an admission because, before the pandemic, we were not all that into science fiction and fantasy. But over the course of the past 20 months, we have binge watched not just Star Was, but also five other SciFi and fantasy series -- collectively, many dozens of hours of movies, all of which we have really enjoyed.
It didn’t take us long to realize that we were hooked on the genre. And quickly, we began to wonder: what is it about science fiction and fantasy stories that is so engrossing? Consider, for a moment, the sheer volume of blockbusters and bestsellers that this genre has produced over the past few decades: Star Wars, Harry Potter, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, the Marvel Comic movies, The Hunger Games. The list goes on. What is it about science fiction and fantasy that has captured the imagination not just of me and Leah, but seemingly, of the entire world?
I think that one part of the answer can be found in those iconic opening words at the beginning of every Star Wars movie. SciFi and fantasy allow us to be transported to an utterly different world -- to events that happened a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. That is to say: SciFi and fantasy provide us with a degree of escapism. They allow us to temporarily leave behind the real world, to forget about our own lives and problems -- and for a few hours, to inhabit a universe that is completely different from our own. Especially during the pandemic -- and in particular, during those first few months of the pandemic, when we were all stuck at home, unable to go anywhere, and our only contact with the outside world came through the bleak headlines that we read in the news -- we have all needed a strong dose of escapism. Science fiction and fantasy allow us, for the moment, to forget the problems of our world and instead be immersed in a world that is a galaxy away.
But these stories don’t merely provide a strong dose of escapism. More often than not, they also present us with a world that is neatly ordered and morally unambiguous -- where it is easy to tell the difference between good and evil, between heroes and villains. And although the heroes might sometimes experience a setback, or someone who we thought was good reveals himself to be evil, we know that in the end, before the final chapter comes to a close or before the credits roll, all will have been set right in the universe. The heroes always win; the villains are always vanquished; and the world is always restored to order.
Film critic Mallory Rubin has pointed out that Star Wars was the perfect film for its time. The original movie was released in 1977 -- as the United States was still recovering from the aftershocks of the tumultuous sixties, the Watergate Scandal, and the Vietnam War -- a period that challenged longstanding norms and traditions. And into that tumult, George Lucas introduced exactly the right balm: a fantasy world in which good could easily be distinguished from evil in clear and obvious binaries: with the Jedi Knights on one side, and Darth Vader, easily the most recognizable villain in all of film history, on the other; with the Galactic Rebellion on one side, and the evil Empire on the other; with the mystical power of the Force on one side, and the menacing Dark Side of the Force on the other.
As we descend into winter, and Chanukkah approaches, I have found myself thinking about the Dark Side of the Force. We often describe Chanukkah as our Festival of Lights -- at the coldest and darkest time of the year, our Jewish way of celebrating light. Of course it is not just the Jewish religious tradition that, come winter, goes to battle with the Dark Side of the Force. Christmas tells the story of a star that shined in Bethlehem -- a sign that God’s son had been born and brighter days were ahead. The Aztecs used to offer winter sacrifice to their Sun God -- in hopes that doing so might cause him to return soon.
But unlike these other religious customs, Chanukkah bears yet another striking resemblance to the world of Star Wars. It is not too hard to translate the Jedi into the Maccabees, Darth Vader into King Antiochus, and the Evil Empire, intent on ruling the galaxy with an authoritarian grip, to be translated into the Syrian Greeks, forcing their Hellenistic culture not only onto the Judeans, but also, onto every other unwilling kingdom in the ancient near east.
Like Star Wars, Chanukkah is the story of righteous rebellion. Like Star Wars, Chanukkah is presented as a battle between good and evil -- where there is a clear distinction between heroes and villains, where we trust that light will surely triumph over the Dark Side, and the universe will be restored to order.
But of course, we know that the world does not often work this way. Our lives are not neatly ordered and morally unambiguous. It is not always so easy to distinguish right from wrong, truth from opinion. Sometimes, the people we think of as heroes lose. More often than not, the universe isn’t restored to order. Science fiction and fantasy will always be exactly: only a fantasy -- the world as we might wish it to be, but not the world as it is.
Despite many of the movies being rated PG13, George Lucas has asserted that, in their essence, the Star Wars movies were intended for children. And indeed, the movies present a worldview that is very childlike and simplistic: where good and evil are clearly defined, and the heroes always win. Similarly, perhaps it is Chanukkah’s childlike and simplistic worldview that accounts, at least in part, for the holiday’s blockbuster popularity -- especially among children.
Science fiction and fantasy might allow us to escape to a galaxy far, far away -- but equally so, we need other powerful stories that enable us to grapple with the real world in all of its complexity. We need stories that help us to live with ambiguity and endure disappointment. And this week’s Torah portion provides us with exactly one such story.
It is one of the most famous stories in the entire Torah. We often refer to it as Jacob wrestling with the angel. But if we examine it more carefully, we will find that Jacob’s wrestling partner is anything but an angel. Recall that their wrestling match takes place in the middle of the night -- and that Jacob’s wrestling partner insists that he must leave before the sun rises. It seems that he is some sort of night creature, who gets his power from the dark. Recall also that, when he sees he is outmatched, Jacob’s wrestling partner resorts to fighting dirty -- and, according to one particularly evocative translation, punches Jacob in the groin. And yet, this dirty-fighting night creature, whom we might expect to be the very embodiment of the Dark Side, turns out not to be a villain, not a manifestation of evil, but instead, when their wrestling match has concluded, he offers Jacob a blessing.
Unlike the world of science fiction and fantasy, this is a story that is rich with complexity -- where even the Dark Side has a blessing to offer. Unlike George Lucas’s galaxy far, far away, Jacob’s wrestling match might remind us of our own world, which is neither neat nor orderly: where good things sometimes emerge in the dark, where people who we thought were our enemies sometimes turn out to have something to teach us, where the disappointments and anxieties that keep us up all night wrestling in the dark might sometimes lead to a blessing.
This year, as our Chanukkah candles burn down, perhaps we might permit ourselves to linger by the menorah for a few moments longer than usual -- in order to behold not just the beauty of the light, but also, to wait and see if there might be a blessing that is waiting for us in the quiet stillness of the dark. The candles will burn out -- but in their place, the musky scent of the smoke will arise: a sweet aroma that we otherwise might have missed, a gift to us from the Dark Side.
Great gift of words..
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