It is constitutive of being human that the
events which happen to us, and those we make happen, appear to us to have a
surplus of meaning, or no meaning at all, or something in between. The
uncertainty we have on this score lies at the nexus of chance, predestination,
and, since we all yearn and pray, if only to an unknown God, the power of
prayer.
The movie Forrest Gump is a gateway into the
subject matter. Superficial people like to think of it as an arcane philosophical
and religious debate. As if John Calvin were a man of leisure who had nothing
better to do than amuse himself with philosophical conundrums. It isn’t so. The
subject matter is quite simply at the heart of what it means to be human.
There is a prayer in Forrest Gump that
casts its shadow across the whole film. Jenny Curran, the woman of Forrest’s
life after his mother, is a young girl. Her father is chasing her through the
fields to beat her when she stops and hides. From her hiding place she prays:
Dear God, make me a bird. So I could fly far,
far far away from here.
As those who have seen the movie know, God
answers Jenny’s prayer. In spades. To begin with, through the desires of her
own heart. The result is bitter more than sweet. Her desires do not take her
far from home, no matter how many miles she logs. What she hoped her father
would give her, but never did, she has a hard time finding elsewhere.
Forrest Gump: He should not be hitting you, Jenny.
Forrest is a place far, far away that Jenny
finds, off and on, never for long. She cannot bring herself to stay with him.
It’s not that she doesn’t believe in Forrest. The problem is, she no longer
believes in herself.
Forrest Gump:
Will you marry me?
[Jenny turns and looks at him]
Forrest Gump: I'd make a good husband, Jenny.
Jenny Curran: You would, Forrest.
Forrest Gump: ...But you won't marry me.
Jenny Curran: [sadly] ... You don't wanna marry me.
Forrest Gump: Why don't you love me, Jenny?
[Jenny says nothing]
Forrest Gump: I'm not a smart man... but I know what love is.
Is Jenny’s life marked by destiny, or does it
make no sense at all? She dies young, but before she does, finds it within
herself to marry Forrest, and have a child with him. Here are Forrest’s final reflections
on chance and predestination:
Forrest Gump: You died on a Saturday morning. And I
had you placed here under our tree. And I had that house of your father's
bulldozed to the ground. Momma always said dyin' was a part of life. I sure
wish it wasn't. Little Forrest, he's doing just fine. About to start school
again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he
combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong.
He's really good. We fish a lot. And every night, we read a book. He's so smart,
Jenny. You'd be so proud of him. I am. He, uh, wrote a letter, and he says I
can't read it. I'm not supposed to, so I'll just leave it here for you. Jenny, I
don't know if Momma was right or if, if it's Lieutenant Dan. I don't know if we
each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a
breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same
time. I miss you, Jenny. If there's anything you need, I won't be far away.
I realize the book and the movie have
different endings (go here). But, since I knew
a Jenny Curran who died of AIDS, it is the movie version that speaks to me with
greater directness.
To be continued.
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