It was nearly a month ago that David Attenborough and I went to see a preview of the Jon Amiel film Creation.
Well, I say that, but there were 398 other people there too. And I didn’t actually get to meet Attenborough. Or even see him. But we were in the same room. I say ‘room’, but I mean the Science Museum. He touched Karen James’ shoulder! And she’s my friend, so that counts. Doesn’t it?
Where was I? Oh yes. Heroes. David Attenborough is a hero to many. On the other hand, Charles Darwin has been turned into a saint. I’ve reviewed the movie elsewhere. These are some thoughts that didn’t quite make it there.
Philip Campbell welcomed us to the IMAX theatre at the Science Museum, telling us that Nature is a magazine as well as a journal; the narrative is as important as the science. (There may have been a small cheer from the LabLit representatives at this point.) After welcoming various luminaries (the producer Jeremy Thomas, screenwriter John Collee and Toby Jones—who played Thomas Huxley), he introduced the director John Amiel.
“This place is so cool!” Amiel said, before apologizing that the film was in 35 mm and not IMAX. He played on the narrative theme again, explaining but not apologizing for the liberties taken with objective reality: He made the point that a ‘true’ dramatization would have to spend eight years studying barnacles: ‘I’m not going to say, guys it’s only a movie: get a life.‘
The film we were about to see was an imaginative rather than a literal truth, dealing with the spirit of Charles Darwin: man and scientist, because his ‘life and science were one piece’. I don’t know if it was intended, but I saw him drawing direct parallels with the Biblical account of creation. Truth in spirit if not in literal fact.
Nature selects for survival; man for appearance
The film was a feast of visual elements and hidden meaning. The (fictionalized) account of Jemmy Button and the del Fuegians; the bad science (or medicine, rather) juxtaposed with the bad theology; Jenny the orangutan; the process of decay, Huxley’s bullying and the balance of nature with a fox and a stunt rabbit. The opening scene of the movie, with the finger of Charles reminding us forcefully of the finger of Michelangelo’s God. (And I would have cheerfully held Darwin’s coat while he thumped the vicar—or performed harm bodily and grievous myself.)
We would do well not to idolize our scientific heroes. Darwin himself tells the doctor that ‘logic isn’t everything’—and tries to make a childish bargain with God for the life of Annie. All great scientific advances are made by human beings, heir to the same heartache and thousand natural shocks as all flesh: and the message of Creation is that this, not our idealized notions, is true cause for celebration.
RG: We notice that spelling and the consistency of the theme of this blog is seriously. Congratulation is very good the theme!
Why, thank you Alejandro! Much appreciated.
Thank you.
You forgot to mention that the snacks looked like potpourri.
Potpourri? Sounds fancy! The less the food looks like food, the fancier it is.
Yeah, I seem to remember standing around wondering if it was edible or not.
Hopefully it didn’t smell like potpourri…..
Nice post, but can you idolize selectively? Everyone has admirable traits as well as flaws and you can laud the former without signing up unthinkingly for the latter?
No Sabbi, it didn’t. I can’t tell you whether it tasted like pot pourri because I’ve never tasted it… this stuff had an overwhelmingly apple flavour, and was very dry. I seem to remember choking on it.
Damn, hit ‘submit’ too soon. Meant also to say that I think once you start idolizing non-selectively you get into hagiography, which is kind of what’s happened to dear old Charles. And that puts people like me off.
All my heroes are flawed geniuses, and I like that, because it means that me and my faults have a chance. Hmm. Maybe there’s something in there–we accept the flaws of ‘true’ heroes, with good reason. I mean, look at Batman.
In the end then it depends on how much the good deeds weigh against the bad? I mean Batman brooded a bit and his carbon footprint was probably quite high with that car and all, but what were his other flaws compared to his ability to lock up crazy murderous villains?
With Darwin, the distillation of a key framework’s the thing and such an idea is what makes a scientist a hero in posterity. We remember Hutton’s ideas, not the fact that very few people can decipher his prose, so he takes his place as a scientific hero despite this (really frustrating) flaw.
I think if a person is particularly good at one thing, or achieves something momentous, they become a hero. Jenny’s written before about meeting heroes (link somewhere up there) and that we possibly shouldn’t do it…
I don’t think it’s a simple case of weighing good and bad deeds, not that that’s a simple equation anyway. There are plenty of sports heroes who have pretty messy private lives. All our troops who have been killed in Afghanistan; the Sun and others (me included, before you get the wrong idea) call them heroes, with no reference at all to their backgrounds. Can the level of heroism negate all ‘badness’ in one’s private life?
My heroes are Sirs Winston Churchill and Harry Secombe. What do you make of that? 🙂
I can still remember being a student and paying good money to go to a symposium in which Stephen J. Gould was giving a talk. He was definitely an icon/hero for me back then.
When I told this at lunch at work not so long ago, they looked at me as if I were a freak. Half the people didn’t even know him of course.
do young students offer to help you across the road too, Mark?
They should.
Look both ways, watch out for taxis.
Rather than heroes I think of people as mentors or guides. And Sir Harry Secombe? Please explain!
I don’t think I have true heroes, although I used to during my younger and wiser days. I do have people whom I admire, and who inspire me. These tend to fall into two categories:
People I haven’t met, who inspire/are admired from a distance, clay feet and all: Isaac Asimov, J K Rowling, Richard Feynman, Carl Sagan, Vikram Seth, William Gibson, Steve Jobs…and many more.
People I know in daily life who are inspirational without necessarily achieving fame (or notoriety).
And Mother Teresa, who falls somewhere in between the two groups (I only met her once).
Sir Harry Secombe needs no explanation.
I vaguely associate him with everyone’s favorite misunderstood crack commando unit, the A team.
(I’m sorry to offend but I think they were scheduled close together on TV when I was really little- I’ll go and educate myself now)
Ye-es… step away from the steam-powered wireless and needle nardle noo.
When I grow up I want to be just like Bluebottle.
SRSLY.
“Eight years studying barnacles” made me laugh… reminds me of looking through various available Darwin works on the Project Gutenberg website. Coral reefs certainly seemed completely impenetrable, and would probably also have taken eight years to read.
It’ll be a cold, dark day in Hades when you or I grow up, Richard.