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Category: LOST

Mostly these posts were my attempt to read and analyze every book that appeared on ABC’s LOST. A complete list of the 43 books I read can be found here.

The Lost Book Club: Island

From Aldous Huxley’s Island:

“In those days, Pala was still completely off the map. The idea of turning it into an oasis of freedom and happiness made sense. So long as it remains out of touch with the rest of the world, an ideal society can be a viable society.

[…]

Meanwhile, the outside world has been closing in on this little island of freedom and happiness. Closing in steadily and inexorably, coming nearer and nearer. What was once a viable ideal is now no longer viable.”

Finally, I’ve reached the end of the Lost Book Club, at least until more books crop up in Season 4, which starts tomorrow. The last one was Huxley’s Island, a book that was never seen, but was referenced in the Season 2 episodes “?” and “Live Together, Die Alone.” The reference is in the name of the pier where Jack, Kate, and Sawyer are taken prisoner by the Others. It’s called the Pala Ferry, and Pala is the setting of Island, a book Huxley wrote as a counterpoint to Brave New World.

Island is the story of a journalist named Will Farnaby who is shipwrecked on the island of Pala where an ideal society flourishes. Palan culture is a perfect blend of Eastern spirituality and Western science created through an alliance between a nineteenth century Scottish surgeon who came to the island to save its Raja’s life. The two developed an ideal for living laid out by the old Raja in Notes on What’s What, a book within the book. In short, it is a healthy combination of Buddhism, modern psychiatry, psychedelic drugs, limited industrialization, Enlightenment style reasoning, and free love.

Will arrives on the island as an agent of a major oil concern that wants to take over Pala, industrialize it and exploit its abundant natural resources. The inhabitants of Pala fear this as it will lead to the kind of overpopulation, militarization, and systemic poverty (both material and spiritual) so rampant in the outside world. Over the course of the novel, Will comes to love the island and its inhabitants even as the dictator of a nearby island plans his invasion so he can auction the island’s resources off for cash to fight his wars.

It’s a good and heady read that falls in nicely with certain other “ideal society” books that have shown up on Lost particularly Stranger in a Strange Land.

What most gets me is how it provided a possible framework for thinking about the Others. The Pala Ferry references came at the end of Season 2, a time before we met the others. It would have been fun to have read this one before Season 3 as it contains some clues as to what to expect about the Others.

The Connections:

1. In Island, the secular surgeon, Dr Andrew, is brought to Pala to operate on Pala’s leader, who is suffering from a horrific tumor. This is precisely why Jack was taken in Season 2: to save Ben, the Others’ leader, from a tumor.

2. Pala, like Lost Island, is a place that is essentially hidden and off-limits to the outside world, but as with Pala, there are people who want to come to the island, and the Others, like the Palans, fear this above anything else. They believe it will be the end of their way of life. We won’t know for sure until Season 4 gets underway tomorrow, whether the outsiders on Not Penny’s Boat have good or ill intentions, but the title of the Season 4 opener, “The Beginning of the End,” suggests Ben’s fears may be well founded.

3. Both islands have a temple. We haven’t seen Lost’s temple, but Ben did mention it. This hints at a society with roots that go far back, perhaps as far back as four-toed beings? Who knows. Also, both the Others and the Palanese wear white muslin outfits for their ceremonies.

4. At the end of Season 2, we didn’t know that the Dharma Initaitive and the Others were not one and the same. We did know, however, that Dharma like Palanese society, was a fusion of sorts between Buddhism and western science.

5. As on Lost, Pala has scientific research stations scattered around the island geared toward discovering saner ways to live.

But unlike with Pala, something has gone wrong. The Others carry guns and kidnap people. They con and torture. Theirs is a corrupted island, a twisted version of Pala, that must be healed and made whole again. Perhaps, that is what John Locke must do, and what Jack seems to have realized in the Season 3 finale only too late.

The world of the Others is nothing like the perfect society of Pala, but to the Others it is. It is perfect, and it is in danger, especially now that it has been found. Their ideal society is threatened, and the survivors of Oceanic 815 are going to have to decide between protecting the island and going home to a world that might not be the one they left.

Season 4 starts tomorrow with “The Beginning of the End.” In the meantime, go here for a list of all the Lost books I’ve reviewed.

The Lost Book Club: Evil Under the Sun

Agatha Christie’s Evil Under the Sun is a Hercule Poirot mystery in which the intrepid detective finds himself working a murder on a resort island off the English coast. There is a large cast of potential suspects and one body, that of a promiscuous actress who had been blatantly carrying on with a married man. In short: murder, most foul.

It wasn’t as good as the only other Christie novel I’ve read (Murder on the Orient Express) but I did enjoy it, although I started to have a sense of how the murder had occured before Poirot figured it out.

Sawyer is seen reading Evil Under the Sun in Season 3 of Lost in the Nikki and Paolo episode “Expose,” an episode that is essentially a muder mystery.

Like Lost, Evil Under the Sun has a large cast and takes place on an island. There aren’t any big clues about Lost’s mythology hidden in the pages either, which seemes appropriate as “Expose” represents a break from reveals about the island, serving mostly as just good, albeit twisted, entertainment. Kind of like Christie’s novels: nothing earth shattering, but loads of fun.

There is, however, a clue in the book that hints at the way the episode plays out. In Evil Under the Sun, (watch out, here come spoilers) the actress’s corpse is found on the beach. Her lover goes to try to save her, while the woman who discovers the body with him runs off for help. Eventually, we learn that the “body” was a ruse; it was the murderer’s female accomplice. Now he can murder his lover, the actress, while the woman who went off for help can vouch that he was with her the whole time.

In “Expose”, Nikki, an actress who may or may not be promiscuous but is a murderer,� shows up seemingly dead on the beach. The episode revolves around finding out who killed her and her lover, Paolo. Only at the very end, do we learn that she wasn’t dead. Unfortunately for her, only the audience sees her eyes open as Hurley and Sawyer are busy shoveling sand on top her in the island graveyard.

In this case, the inclusion of a book served to signal the type of episode we’re seeing (murder mystery) and offer a possible clue. Perhaps if Sawyer had read it more carefully, he might have realized that while Nikki seemed dead, she might not really be dead, but as we learned with the whole Of Mice and Men incident, Sawyer doesn’t always read that carefully.

Season 4 of Lost starts on Thursday with “The Beginning of the End.” Sometime before then, I will post my thoughts on Aldous Huxley’s Island, the last of the Lost books on my list. In the meantime, Brian at Lost…and Gone Forever has a great preview with no spoilers and lots of good theorizin’.

An index of all my Lost Book Club posts is here.

The Lost Book Club: Our Mutual Friend

Our Mutual Friend was my first forray into Dickens since reading (a probably abridged version of) A Tale of Two Cities back in 8th grade. It’s a weighty tome, but in a year of reading that included Don Quixote and The Brothers Karamazov, I figured my long-book mojo would see me through. And, besides, anything for Lost, right?

Once I got used to Dickens’s paid-by-the-word style, I began to enjoy it. It was uneven, but it left me wanting to read more of Dickens’s work.

Our Mutual Friend is about money, specifically the effects of John Harmon’s inheritance on a great many Londoners of all social classes. Unfortunately, the young Harmon died before he could collect his inheritance, and so the money went to his father’s servants, the Boffins, who haven’t seen John since he was a boy. The thing is, though, Harmon isn’t dead. He faked his death to escape his money and win the heart of Bella Wilfer on his own merits.

Now, the Boffins are newly rich, and John is newly poor. Adding to the complexity of the situation, Dickens presents us with a ponderous cast of con artists, thugs, scavengers, aristocratic lawyers, a psychotic schoolmaster, a dying orphan, members of parliament, a creepy taxidermist, and captains of industry all of whom have either a desire for (and schemes to match!) or opinions about the money and its inheritors.

There are also two love stories. The first is between the lower middle class Bella and the wealthy John. The other is between dirt-poor working class Lizzie Hexam and the young aristocratic lawyer Eugene Wrayburn. Neither is a relationship that should occur, particularly the latter, as they violate the rules of class. These class rules are at the heart of Our Mutual Friend as Dickens examines the effects of love and money on various segments of mid-nineteenth century London society.

Since it was originally a serial, the book has an episodic feel, and one gets the impression that Dickens may have been making some of it up as he was going along. It’s kind of like television. Kind of like Lost, too, in that it has large cast and most of the characters are connected in ways they often don’t ever see.

So how does Our Mutual Friend connect with Lost?

It appears several times in “Live Together, Die Alone,” the Season 2 finale. The episode is the first one to explore the pre-Island life of Desmond. As he is checking out of jail (after serving two years for what we don’t know) he gets his personals including a copy of Our Mutual Friend. He says he’s read every word Dickens wrote except for this, his last novel. Desmond says he checked it with his personal effects because he didn’t want to be tempted to read it in prison since he wants it to be the last book he reads before he dies. I hope he has a few weeks notice; it’s kind of long.

Because he didn’t read it in jail he never finds the letter that Penny Widmore, the love of his life, hid inside it telling him she loves him and that she always will. As we learn more about Penny and Desmond’s romance, both in “Live Together, Die Alone” and in Season 3 flashbacks, we learn that their relationship has always been haunted by her father’s disapproval. Desmond, is not from Penny’s social class, and as a result, her father frowns on his aristocratic daughter hitching her wagon to Desmond’s working class star.

His desire to prove himself worthy of her love is what drives Desmond on his attempt to sail around the world. Of course, he gets shipwrecked on the island and is presumed dead, much like Dickens’s John Harmon. And like the lovers in Our Mutual Friend, Penny’s love is too strong to give Desmond up for lost (har-har), and her defiance of her father and desire to find Desmond are what drives her on her search that may or may not have led that boat to the island (we’ll have to wait for Season 4 to know who’s in Not Penny’s Boat).

Given the relationship between Penny and Desmond is one that transcends social class, it is fitting that Our Mutual Friend, a story of love between classes, should be the book Desmond clings to. It’s also fitting that it should appear on Lost, since so many of the characters are connected in the flashbacks by mutual friends whose mutuality is unknown by the characters on the island. Indeed, Desmond is both Jack and Libby’s mutual friend.

Lostpedia has a pretty good write-up of Our Mutual Friend that takes a look at other connections with Lost including father-daughter relationships and scavenging/hoarding.

For a list of my other Lost Book Club posts click here.

And, with a hat-tip to Brian at Lost…and Gone Forever, here’s the preview for Season 4:

The Lost Book Club: The Fountainhead

Sorry, George, I know you tried to save me, but I had to do it. In fact I had already finished Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.

And I liked it.

I’ve long been suspicious of Rand’s books, but curious as well. Perhaps it was all the years spent training high school debaters how to beat back Randian Objectivist arguments, which seem more than anything an especially culty take on libertarianism (I know, I know Rand disavowed Libertarianism). But we’re not here to talk philosophy, though perhaps we should: Lost is, let’s not forget, a show with a cast of characters named for philosophers (John Locke, Desmond David Hume, Rousseau, etc.), but I digress.

Once you put aside the fact that The Fountainhead is clearly a philosophical manifesto written as fiction, it’s hard to get around the fact that it’s a hell of a story. Architect Howard Roark is a brilliant artist. He fights for a new modern aesthetic that rejects the slavish devotion to the past, a past all but worshipped by the New York architectural establishment. He is misunderstood and society does everything it can to destroy him.

Roark cares only for his work and nothing for fame or riches. He is committed to his art and would rather live in poverty breaking rocks in a quarry than compromise his artistic vision. Rand clearly believes that a man is a failure only if he compromises his beliefs, ideals and vision.

Rand contrasts Roark with a fellow architect who only lives to please the establishment, a socialist who manipulates unions and other weak-minded collectivists to build his own power, and a media tycoon who could have been an ideal man like Roark but sold out his principles. Roark must face each of these people who would destroy him by forcing him to sell himself out.

The Fountainhead can be read several ways. As a statment of artistic principles and the importance of an artist adhering to his vision despite opposition from those who don’t get it, I really liked and identified with The Fountainhead. Rand is right that when an artist compromises his vision to satisfy the almighty dollar and win the accolades of an indifferent public, he sacrifices a piece of his soul. The title itself comes from Rand’s belief that “man’s ego is the fountainhead of human progress.”

It is also a statement of political philosophy that argues that self-interest and enlightened selfishness are the best values upon which men should base their lives. Government regulation and unions are tools of oppression that destroy freedom. Many conservatives of the libertarian stripe consider Rand a genius among political philosophers. The notion that natural resources are meant to be exploited and the environment is not perfected until man has worked his will on it especially rankled. I kept hearing Saruman chuckling about how Fangorn Forest would “burn in the fires of industry.”

Still, it’s an incredibly gripping read. I expected to hate it, but I couldn’t put it down. The characters aren’t realistic – they are all archetypes and ideals. The situations, particularly the romantic (lowercase r) relations are especially strange, but the fact that the whole thing is just a bubble off from reality, that it is so deeply and passionately felt gives it a cool Romantic (yes, uppercase now) vibe that adds to its celebration of the artistic spirit.

What I really liked, though, is the way Rand evokes the skyscrapers and streets of a New York that for me exists only in black-and-white photos, smoky jazz solos, and images of taxi cabs and rain soaked streets. I felt as if I had seen The Fountainhead rather than read it, and throughout the lengthy book, her descriptions of the city at all times reinforce the mood of her characters in much the same way that filters and lighting are used to adjust the lanscapes of film to evoke internal states.

Having lived through the Bolshevik revolution and escaped to America, I can understand Rand’s profound pro-capitalist outlook and rejection of any idea that bears a hint of socialism. The book was published in 1943, and I kept wondering what would become of a comitted individualist such as Roark when the US entered World War II. The novel stops before the US entry into the war, but a part of me imagined him getting drafted and forced to suffer what for him would be the ultimate degradation: taking orders from another man. Despite the book’s triumphalist ending, I kept picturing Roark winding up getting court martialed and sent to Leavnworth for insubordination. And now, I’m off on a tangent…

Hands down, The Fountainhead is the most interesting book I’ve read this year.

So, how does it fit in with Lost?

The Fountainhead appears in the Season 3 episode “Par Avion.” It is one of the many books that we see Sawyer reading on the beach over the course of the series, so presumably he found it in the wreckage of Oceanic 815. I bet he loved it too.

If there is any character on Lost who would hold to an objectivist philosphy of rational self-interest it is Sawyer. He only acts for his own benefit, which as in the case of Roark often happens to correspond with the greater good, but for Sawyer that is purely secondary. Like Roark, Sawyer is an individualist who sees no need to take orders from others nor to act for them. Placing The Fountainhead in his hands is a subtle reminder of the internal conflict Sawyer experiences on the island as he learns to be part of a community, balancing his self-inerested ego-driven nature with his desire to belong.

But, “Par Avion” isn’t about Sawyer. In fact, his role in this episode is practically just a cameo. It’s a Claire-centric episode in which she comes up with a plan for rescue: By capturing a migrating seabird and attaching a message to it, perhaps the message will be found when the birds migrate to a civilized area. It’s farfetched and Charlie and others aren’t shy in pointing that out, but like Roark, Claire sticks to her vision and by singlemindedly pursing her goal, she is able to make it happen.

An index of all my Lost Book Club posts can be found here.

The Lost Book Club: Through the Looking Glass

The Season 3 finale of Lost took its title from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass, the sequel to Alice in Wonderland (referenced many times on Lost – see my post here).

Through the Looking Glass finds Alice dreaming again. This time she travels through a mirror into Looking Glass World where she has adventures traveling through a sort of live chess game in which she encounters Tweedledee & Tweedledum and Humpty Dumpty as well as an assortment of live chess pieces and talking flowers. She also discovers the wonderful nonsense poem Jabberwocky. It’s a fun and clever read, though not quite as entertaining as Alice in Wonderland.

The most obvious connection with Lost is the fact that the underwater hatch discovered at the end of Season 3 is called the Looking Glass Station. I’ve already theorized about the idea that the Looking Glass Station acts as a kind of portal between timestreams much as the actual looking glass that Alice enters takes her into a different world/time. Rereading Through the Looking Glass only reinforces my thinking about the Season 3 finale, which is that Lost has finally shown its hand as a show about travel between alternate timestreams/realities.

From my post on the Season 3 Finale:

The island exists between timestreams or parallel dimensions/universes (“snow globe, brotha”). The only way on or off the island is to go through the looking glass station (or possibly also along a very precise set of coordinates which would explain the Dharma food drops and Michael and Walt’s escape last season).

We know this because Charlie talked to Penny Widmore in the looking glass station – the link to the original timestream – and Penny had never heard of Naomi. I actually believe Ben is telling the truth when he says that Naomi isn’t who they think she is. Ben knows she didn’t come through the looking glass station and therefore can’t be from the universe/dimension/timestream that the survivors came from before being sucked onto the island when Desmond let the counter run down in the Swan Hatch as revealed at the end of Season 2.

In Carroll’s book, Alice finds characters who live their lives out of chronological order, she finds things are the opposite of how they should be in the world she left. In fact, Looking Glass World is not quite a mirror image of Alice’s normal world, it is a reflection through one of those twisted funhouse mirrors that distorts and changes things beyond all recognition. The only constant is that the rules of Alice’s normal world do not apply.

Of course, it is all just a dream. Hopefully Jack’s flashforward in the Season 3 Finale was something more substantial, but I think Jack is in Looking Glass World and Season 4 will be about him getting back, where he will hopefully not realize that the whole thing was just a dream he had while playing with two kittens.

Check out my other Lost Book Club posts here.

The Lost Book Club

It seems that the just-released Lost Season 3 DVD has a featurette called The Lost Book Club. I haven’t seen it since my copy is still wrapped up under the tree, but since I’ve been writing posts about the Lost book club for a year-and-a-half, I figured I should resurface them.

The books associated with Lost fall into two categories. Those seen on the show (usually read by Sawyer) and those referenced either in the show or by an episode’s title. Here’s the list of the ones I’ve already posted about.

I’ll be publishing my posts on Through the Looking Glass, Our Mutual Friend, The Fountainhead, and Island over the next few days.

Another Gilgamesh

I read Herbert Mason’s 1970 free verse version of the ancient Babylonian epic Gilgamesh last year as part of the Lost Book Club. It’s one of my favorites from the Lost project, so I decided to read a different version this summer. (Here’s the link to my post on Mason’s version).

I chose David Ferry’s 1992 version, written in unrhymed couplets in iambic pentameter. The basic story is, of course the same, but where Mason’s feels personal and cuts close to the heart, Ferry’s feels a bit more scholarly. Fine if you’re studying the poem, but not as moving.

Other than the poetic form, the biggest difference lies in what motivates Gilgamesh to go on his great quest. In Mason’s version he is motivated by the pain of losing his friend Enkidu, and he wants the secret of immortality in order to bring Enkidu back to life.

In Ferry’s version, Gilgamesh seems more motivated by fear of his own mortality and his wish to extend his own life.

Interestingly, this version seems more in line with issues on Lost, particularly since we’ve learned that the island appears to grant exceptionaly long life or slower aging or possibly immortality.

Gilgamesh was referenced in Season 2 as a clue in a crossword that John Locke was working on prior to meeting Mr Eko. Now that we have the perspective of Season 3 and Eko’s death (killed for angering the “gods” much like Enkidu), things seem a bit clearer as Locke is on a quest to know the island’s secrets including the one about longevity, though he doesn’t know that yet. I’m guessing Locke’s motivation isn’t as selfless as Mason’s Gilgamesh, though.

I’ll probably have to read another Gilgamesh or two to see which of these versions hews closer to convention. Maybe this will be an annual event.

Through the Looking Glass – The Lost Season Three Finale: Theories & The Lost Books

Note: If you haven’t yet seen the Season 3 finale of Lost (“Through the Looking Glass”) you might not want to read this – major spoilers…

Season 3 of Lost ended with last night’s “Through the Looking Glass” and as the producers promised, it changed everything. As predicted, it left viewers wondering how the show can continue for its remaining three seasons considering that the castaways appear to have gotten off the island.

I’ve been saying for about a year (ever since I started studying the Lost books) that we were dealing with some kind of alternate or parallel timestream. Books like A Wrinkle in Time, Alice in Wonderland, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” The Wizard of Oz, and The Third Policeman all point that way. Some of this season’s books – A Brief History of Time, On Writing, and Through the Looking Glass (all links go to my posts on the books) – only reinforced that notion. And that’s just the books; I’m not even going near all the other alternate time references.

After “Through the Looking Glass,” I’m convinced that Lost is a time travel show. I started to see it about half way through last night’s episode when I began to suspect that the flashback wasn’t what it appeared to be. It was neither a flashback nor a flash-forward. In fact, the scenes on the island were the flashbacks and the stuff with Jack as a bearded drug-addled nut were the “present.” Surely Jack will start reading some Philip K Dick in Season 4.

The problem for Jack is that somehow he seems to understand that he didn’t come back to the same world he left. He is in a world where Christian Shepard is still alive (“Go up and get my dad, if I’m more drunk than him you can fire me” or something like that) and Kate is driving a nice car, apparently not a fugitive. It’s the world that Naomi and her rescue ship came from looking for Desmond. The world in which Oceanic 815 was found along with all the dead bodies.

Here’s how. The island exists between timestreams or parallel dimensions/universes (“snow globe, brotha”). The only way on or off the island is to go through the looking glass station (or possibly also along a very precise set of coordinates which would explain the Dharma food drops and Michael and Walt’s escape last season).

We know this because Charlie talked to Penny Widmore in the looking glass station – the link to the original timestream – and Penny had never heard of Naomi. I actually believe Ben is telling the truth when he says that Naomi isn’t who they think she is. Ben knows she didn’t come through the looking glass station and therefore can’t be from the universe/dimension/timestream that the survivors came from before being sucked onto the island when Desmond let the counter run down in the Swan Hatch as revealed at the end of Season 2.

Somehow Future Jack knows this. This is why he so desperately wants to get back to the island. He knows that he didn’t return to the world he left and his life is a shambles – or more of a shambles than it was – as a result. The only survivors whose stories we can glimpse at this point are his and Kate’s, and Kate seems to have it better than when she left Australia in handcuffs bound for the US under the watchful eye of that federal marshal who died in Season 1. Like Marty McFly in Back to the Future, this new timestream must look pretty good to Kate. I wonder if we won’t see Ben washing her fancy new car for her next season.

So who was in that coffin? Whose death would have such a terrible impact on Jack that he would lose all hope and come to the verge of suicide? I say it was Ben.

Ben left the island because he couldn’t stay. Everything blew up in his face (or rather the faces of The Others sent to steal the pregnant women) and with Locke still alive, The Others would know that Locke can communicate with Jacob now. They would also probably be pretty annoyed about the fact that Ben’s plans wound up killing so many of The Others. Ben’s only hope would be to leave the island and take his chances in the ‘real’ world. Probably by pretending to be John Locke, who probably doesn’t need that name anymore now that he can be the Wizard of O(ther)z.

Once Jack realizes the he has not returned to the world he left, I think Jack would understand that Ben was right about leaving and he has probably come to regard Ben as his only hope in getting back to the island so that they can escape correctly – back through the looking glass – and into their own timestream.

With Ben’s death – unmourned by the other survivors – Jack is on his own. So where does Lost go from here? Jack’s still lost, but not on an island. He’s a castaway in time and in order to save himself, he needs to get back to the island. But first, he’ll need to figure out a better plan than riding around in planes getting drunk and hoping they’ll crash. Fixing time itself seems the perfect thing for the man who always needs something to fix. There are certainly three seasons worth of stories there. At least.

I suspect that much of Season 4 will take place off the island, and we’ll get to see our survivors trying to decide if they like their new lives or their old ones better. We’ll see Jack trying to find information about Dharma, Widmore and Hanso. We’ll also see who stayed on the island. I’m betting Locke, Rousseau, Carl, Danielle, Rose, and Bernard stayed.

There are still many mysteries to solve. Why hasn’t Alpert aged? What was Libby doing in the mental hospital (perhaps that’s where they put people who claim to have come from another dimension)? What is the smoke monster? What about the four-toed statue? Jacob? The temple?

This show isn’t over by a long shot, but it’s following in the footsteps of Battlestar Galactica’s third season when the whole show took a radical change of course, if only for a while. The rest of Lost will be about some of the survivors getting back to the island. And perhaps, The Others trying to prevent that from happening. Or, maybe the returnees will team up with The Others to keep the outside world off the island.

This was a brilliant episode. In fact the last two months or so of Lost have been the best television I’ve ever seen. It’s depressing to think it won’t be on again until February 2008, but I still have some books to tide me over:

  • From Season 1, there’s The Mysterious Island
  • From Season 2, I still get to meet Our Mutual Friend and Island
  • From Season 3, I’ll be wading into The Moon Pool, The Fountainhead, Evil under the Sun and, of course, rereading Through the Looking Glass.

I’ll read these between now and February, but I’ll probably hold my posts until then and do a kind of lead-up to the season premiere.

Here’s the link to the index of my Lost book posts.

For more good analysis of “Through the Looking Glass”, and predictions about Lost‘s future, please see:

The Lost Book Club: On Writing

I saved Stephen King’s On Writing, which was referenced in the Lost episode “Every Man for Himself” for the end of the season. When school gets out, I’ll start plugging away more seriously on my next novel, and I figured that perhaps King might offer some inspiration if not a swift kick in the proverbial pants.

King begins with a series of snapshots of his childhood and young adulthood leading up to the publication of Carrie. This is the memoir section of the book wherein King relates the tales of his wonder years interspersed with commentary about how these things led him to becoming the writer he became. From there, he shares advice and wisdom gleaned from a lifetime of writing. Some of it useful, some of it entertaining.

The most vivid portion is the end. This is the project he was working on when he was hit by a van while walking along a Maine highway back in 1999. He was very nearly killed and spent months in and out of surgery and in rehab learning to walk again. The end of the book, fittingly titled “On Living,” describes how getting back into writing helped him through that event. It’s powerfully written and terrifying in the way that reality often is.

On the whole, I can’t say I learned much that I didn’t know about the craft – that section of the book is thin and frequently not much more than an arrow pointing to Strunk & White – but what I got was a wide open sense of anything being possible. That kick in the pants to get me going this summer when I will have the time (starting next week) to finish the next book. Indeed, King himself describes the book as a permission slip:

…you can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink.

Drink and be filled up.

King’s unabashed belief in the literal magic of writing is a sentiment that I share, and probably the one thing, that more than anything else keeps me banging out these words despite the fact that so few wind up reading them. It is still worthwhile and as much my work as the things that pay the bills.

The optimism and inspiration are the best parts of On Writing.

This magic is also where On Writing connects to Lost when King explains what writng is.

Telepathy, of course.

He explains that the writer sends his thoughts out across time and space to readers scattered around the world and existing in different times. King points out that he is writing in 1999, but that the book won’t be released until 2000 so all readers are at least a few years down the timestream from him. Here king gets at the permanence of writing and suggests the great dialogs that have gone on in print for thousands of years much like (I think) Umberto Eco in The Name of the Rose who described libararies as great silent conversations.

To illustrate his point, King sets up a little thought experiment and this is where King’s telepathic powers manifest themselves on Lost island:

Look, here’s a table covered with a red cloth. On it is a cage the size of a small fish aquarium. In the cage is a white rabbit with a pink nose and pink rimmed eyes. In its front paws is a carrot stub which it is constantly munching. On its back, clearly marked in blue ink, is the numeral 8.

Do we see the same thing? We’d have to get together and compare notes to make absolutely sure, but I think we do.

He then argues that most readers of that paragraph will fixate on the ‘8’ on the rabbit’s back, and it’s this thought that creates the telepathy. It’s this image that the writer has projected into the reader’s mind. I agree; it’s what jumps out and creates the sense of mystery that will keep me wanting more. Aside from the fact that it’s one of the numbers, I want to know why it’s there.

I’m sure Sawyer did too.

In “Every Man for Himself” – an episode that also references Of Mice and Men (“Tell me about the rabbits, George”) much more explicitly than it does On Writing – Ben has Sawyer strapped to a table. He appears to have just come out of surgery. Ben shows him a rabbit in a cage and proceeds to give the cage the kind of shaking that kills babies. The rabbit dies. Ben tells Sawyer that the rabbit had a pacemaker just like the one he’s had implanted in Sawyer, which will explode if Sawyer’s heart rate goes too high as it might if he were to try to escape or sleep with Kate. It’s a clever scene, but what stands out is the blue ‘8’ stenciled on the rabbit’s back. Later, Ben tells Sawyer about the rabbits, or at least rabbit-8 when he confides that there were no pacemakers; instead, it was an elaborate con designed to break Sawyer’s will.

Referencing King’s thoughts about writing and telepathy appears at first to be a clever and subtle reminder of the apparent, though unexplained, role of telepathy on the show. More interesting, though, is the way it begins to lay the groundwork for seeing Lost as a show about time travel, which I think it is. I’m not sure we’ll see characters time traveling as in Back to the Future, but I think we will see (and have already seen) their consciences and thoughts projected through the timestream, which is really what King was talking about so I’m chalking On Writing up to being yet another literary hint about alternate or parallel or shifted timestreams on Lost.

There’s something else, too, aside from the fact that this bit of On Writing is another rabbitcentric literary reference joining Of Mice and Men, Alice in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass, and Watership Down (all of which makes me wonder when Donnie Darko, a time travel film laden with rabbit symbolism will show up on Lost) and that’s The Stand.

I’ve never read The Stand, and it hasn’t shown up on Lost, but I do know that the show’s creators have said that it is an influence on the show. This is interesting because in On Writing, King devotes some time to describing the problems he had in completing that novel. He said there were too many characters, too many storylines. In the end the solution was to blow a bunch of them up.

Sound familiar? That would resolve many of the storylines and propel the other ones towards conclusion. As season 3 of Lost closes out in tonight’s “Through the Looking Glass” with the survivors hoarding dynamite and making plans to “blow the Others to hell,” I can’t but think that this sounds an awful lot like King’s recollection of how he moved The Stand to conclusion.

I suspect some storylines will end tonight and what remains will be the situation that propels Lost to its ultimate conclusion in 2010. Hell, I’m predicting mass doom.

Be sure to check out:

  • Pearls Before Swan for more thoughts about On Writing. (h/t as well since this is how I learned that rabbit-8 was referencing On Writing)
  • Mark at Scribes & Scoundrels also has a theory about the season finale: mass doom… or mass rescue?

Click here for my Lost Book Club index page.

The Lost Book Club: The Wizard of Oz, Watership Down, and Carrie Revisited

Some of the books on Lost are more significant than others. The books that are actually shown are the most significant. If they’re shown and discussed they’re probably of greatest importance. Of lesser importance, but still relevant are those that are referenced by characters, referenced as the titles of certain episodes, and those that are referenced by certain events within the show.

When a book makes multiple appearances, it’s certainly worth thinking about a bit more. This post will take a look at three books that have reappeared in recent weeks.

Carrie

Carrie is a third season addition to the Lost book list. It was the subject of Juliet’s book group meeting in the first episode of season 3 (“A Tale of Two Cities”). Because Juliet wanted to read it and it was mentioned that Ben didn’t, it gave the first hint of dissension in the ranks of the Others, although at the time we didn’t know that Juliet was an Other or that Ben was “Henry Gale’s” real name.

We learned later that Carrie is Juliet’ s favorite book and it made several appearances in the most recent Juliet episode “One of Us.” After reading Carrie, I suggested that this implies that Juliet, like Carrie, does not belong anywhere, and – ever the outsider – she will exact her revenge on those who have tormented her, likely the Others. Likely Ben, especially if siding with the survivors might be her best shot at getting off the island, something that must surely seem more possible to her with the arrival of Naomi the Parachutist. Juliet isn’t on the Others’ side, nor is she really on the surviviors’ side.

She’s on her own and like Carrie killing the promgoers, Juliet will happily exact a terrible revenge on Ben if given the chance, though she may have to get in line behind Locke when it comes time to hand Ben his ass.

Watership Down

I think Watership Down has made more appearances and had more references than any other book on the show. It may even be the first literary work to appear, making its debut in “White Rabbit.” Sawyer found it in the crash; it had been Boone’s book, and when Boone saw Sawyer reading it in “Confidence Man” it was “proof” that Sawyer might be sitting on Shannon’s asthma medication, a turn of events that eventually got him “tortured by a real live Iraqi and a spinal surgeon.”

I wrote about Watership Down and some of the many parallels between it an Lost a few months ago, but seeing Sawyer rereading it again in “Left Behind” brought something else to the fore.

In Watership Down, the female rabbits die on the way to the new settlement leaving the rabbits of Watership Down with no way to reproduce and continue their colony. Sound like the Others? The good rabbits stage a raid on another warren, a totalitarian state, to liberate the female bunnies from the forces of the evil General Woundwart and his authoritarian regime. Not unlike what seems about to happen on Lost, except that the Others are the totalitarian society, at least as long as Ben is in charge.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

While The Wonderful Wizard of Oz has not actually been shown, it was referenced in Ben’s alias and alibi from last season: ‘Henry Gale’ who crashed his hot air balloon on the island.

We got another reference in the title of last week’s episode: “The Man Behind the Curtain.” In it Locke accuses Ben of being “the man behind the curtain” while arguing that there is no all powerful, all knowing “Jacob” from whom Ben take orders.

Last summer, I read and wrote about The Wizard of Oz:

The journey down the Yellow Brick Road ultimately becomes one of self discovery similar to what the characters on Lost experience during their adventures on the island. They too have what they thought they lacked ultimately allowing them the ability to change themselves and find redemption. The Wizard of Oz is about reaching one’s potential, a concept we see time and again on Lost, and also an apparent goal of the Hanso Foundation.

The example that springs to mind first is that of John Locke who finds within himself the strength, the ability to lead, and the conviction that he never knew he had. It’s worth remembering that Henry claimed to be coming for John because he was “one of the good ones.”

It is in this most recent episode that Locke’s trip down the Yellow Brick Road finally lands him before the Wizard. For the first time in his life, he is filled with self-confidence and conviction. Over the past few episodes we’ve seen Locke finally transform into what he has wanted to be all his life: a leader of men.

Naturally, this scares the hell out of out charlatan wizard, Ben. Despite the Norman-Bates-arguing-with-Mother feel of the Jacob scene in “The Man Behind the Curtain,” it’s clear that Ben believed there is a Jacob, and I’m thinking he’s not crazy. There is a Jacob, and my wacko theory is that Jacob is John Locke. Locke doesn’t know it yet, nor does Ben; it’s a future Locke that Ben knows as Jacob.

I’ve always been fond of the alternate reality/alternate timestream theory of the island, and I like the timestream aspect of it lately. Of course it means that Locke has to survive the gunshot wound he received from Ben who fears that Locke is about to become the new leader (dare I say savior?) of the Others, a role that I can’t help but think would have been Mr Eko’s if the actor hadn’t wanted to leave the show.

Another Wizard issue (as I mentioned last summer) is that The Wizard of Oz also suggests the lost continent-Atlantis-Lemuria theory:

The Wizard of Oz also brings us to the Lost Continent Theories in which we are meant to wonder if the survivors are actually on the remains of Lemuria, a Pacific Ocean version of Atlantis. This is implied by the four-toed statue that Sayid sees in the season two finale and by the fact that psychic Edgar Cayce (worth looking into since so many of his ideas correspond to what we see in Lost) “confirmed” the existence of Lemuria (and Atlantis).

Cayce believed that the citizens of Lemuria had psychic abilities and were both technologically and spiritually advanced. He also referred to Lemuria as Oz.

Adding in the many Alice in Wonderland references throughout the show, including in “The Man Behind the Curtain,” and that the title of the season three finale is “Through the Looking Glass,” the alternate time/reality aspect of the island is looking more and more plausible.

As to Locke’s return, it reminds me of The Shining (by Stephen King, who has two books on the Lost list so far.) Imagine Locke standing in a men’s room. Someone who has been on the island for an eternity without aging (Alpert?) informing Locke that he is Jacob, the island’s caretaker:

“You’re the caretaker, Mr Locke. You’ve always been the caretaker.”

And while we’re at it, let’s not forget that “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Sound like Jack Shepard?

And what about Walt? Oh, yeah, that’s right… “Walt isn’t here right now, Mrs. Torrance.”

Okay. I’m getting carried away here.

For some good reading and more ‘serious’ and in-depth (and less book-oriented) analysis of “The Man Behind the Curtain” visit:

Click here for the index of my Lost book posts.