Dave's Progress. Chapter 112: A Journey to the Dark Side.

I remember when I first became ill that some of my friends remarked that I had, to use a "Star Wars" analogy, "gone over to the dark side". Of course, we will all remember (well, most of those of my generation will) Luke Skywalker and his battle against the evil "empire" and the "dark side" of "the force", which was personified in the character of Darth Vader, who, as it turned out, was also Luke's father (gasp!). And then I got to thinking about why it would be that some of my friends would make such a comparison. I have blogged before about how mental ill health is often confused with just simple bad behaviour (see my blog, "Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know") and it seems to me that we live within a culture which is almost, if not obsessed, then fascinated by the aberrant, the dangerous, the bad.
Indeed, during a certain period in the '80s and '90s, it seemed that films and books, at least those of the thriller genre, were almost always about serial killers. It was probably Hannibal Lecter in the film "Silence of the Lambs" that started the trend. But, far from being portrayed simply as a very bad man, Hannibal was complex, himself a psychiatrist of, it seemed, genius, and cultured to the point of loving classical music and being able to sketch a scene of Rome in incredible detail just from memory. So, audiences were introduced to a paradox- a man who could bite off someone's tongue without his pulse going above a normal level, and yet intelligent and sensitive enough to listen to Bach. One is reminded, perhaps, of the philosopher Martin Heidegger, who, despite being a philosopher of importance and an incredibly intelligent man, also harboured Nazi sympathies. OK, so he didn't exactly murder people like Hannibal did, but the duality was there. Indeed, in the sequels to "Silence of the Lambs", Thomas Harris seemed to latch on to the fact that his Hannibal character was fast becoming the most popular thing in his novels, both of them, "Hannibal" and "Hannibal Rising", being mostly about his strangely appealing invention. So, it seems, no longer were audiences contented with seeing someone as simply a bad egg, they were interested in what made them tick, what their motives might be, finding them, perhaps, as I have said, strangely appealing.
All this seems a far cry from the "Dirty Harry" movies, the first and best of which, directed by Don Siegel in the '70s, starred Clint Eastwood as the eponymous hero. In the film he was pitted against the random killer, "Scorpio", who was, quite simply, just a very bad, twisted man. Eastwood's character, on the other hand, was the upholder of the law, who didn't mind twisting the rules to his own advantage to get the job done, hence his nick name, "Dirty" Harry Callahan. So, in this film, it is clear where the audience's sympathies should lie. Along with Harry, as he chases Scorpio to a final shoot-out. However, it is hard now to watch this film and not be slightly shocked by its sometimes casual racism (almost all the criminals Harry comes across are black, with the exception of Scorpio himself) and its seeming endorsement of Harry's own dubious "methods". In fact, when the film was released, some critics accused it of being an endorsement of fascism.
So, when speaking of such things, it seems hard to avoid some political questions. As our understanding of what makes bad guys bad guys has increased, has this led to a more humane society? Or is it that the whole issue has become confused, and the bad guy gets off lightly? However we choose to look at it, there is no doubt that our interest in badness has increased and this has been reflected in our culture. One apparent answer to whether this is a good or bad thing in itself is provided by Arthur C. Clarke in his book "3001: The Final Odyssey", in which he states that, in the future, an over-interest in "badness", or as he puts it, "pathological" psychology, comes to be seen as "pathological" itself. In his argument, then, our very own way of thinking about such things might be, in itself, a sort of aberration.
As for my own "journey to the dark side", I am glad to report that I am finally out of it. Although I can say that I may have shared the culture's obsession, at one point, with badness (perhaps through my depression), I have come to see that it is far from as interesting as we think it might be. In my experience, the pathological, the aberrant, always turns out to be banal, cruel, humourless and boring. I much prefer, in the words of "Monty Python" and Eric Idle, to "always look on the bright side of life".