“Have you seen The Man in the High Castle“? Countless times this question has arisen in my social and professional situations, particularly during leisurely dinner discussions that shape the evenings of our Smithsonian Journeys’ tours. My answer hitherto has been “no.”
If pushed (“Really? With your interest in history?”), I mumble something about it being next on my list.
If really pushed, I raise my eyebrows and ask: “Have you seen Deutschland 83” (an acclaimed German series that portrays with chilling realism the harsh trigger-points of life and death in then East-West Germany)? Their answer usually is “no” and we can turn to other topics.
I’m woefully behind on current cultural manifestations. I always have been. When there’s time for a movie, I turn to titles that are charming and feed my inner “romantic.” If I told you how many times I’ve watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you might stop reading my essays.
Still, determined to cure my ignorance about The Man in the High Castle, I started Episode One a few weeks ago. Violence is hard for me to see in films. Suspense undoes me. Case in point, when accompanying some high schoolers to the new Spider-Man 3 in 2007, I lasted just 10 minutes, spending the rest of the film in the lobby with a book and my own tub of popcorn. I got the best of that deal, actually, but that’s not the point.
Reading The Man in the High Castle would have suited me better (I since have ordered it). Still, the first seven episodes have given me what I need. I see what it is and why it gained attention. Its dystopian premise is interesting: Nazi Germany and Japan have manipulated reality to seem the victors in World War II. Splitting our East (Germany) and West (Japan) Coasts, both “victors” rule despotically over a debased America, while her citizens struggle for a decent life, subject to complete oppression. Underneath it all rises a Resistance that knows the truth of history. The episodes are appropriately grim and suspenseful, particularly due to the excellent musical score. Still, Season One will be likely be enough for me, despite reading that Season Two is outstanding.
Why? Dystopian content is hard on the soul.
The Man in the High Castle was intended for adults, especially those with enough background to appreciate the layers of history and symbolism invoked. But so much of today’s dystopian cinema is mindless and pours unabated into the eyes, ears, and brains of our young. If I come away from an episode of High Castle in despair, what do hours of such grim, violent, dystopian movies do to the delicate minds of our young?
No wonder masses of particularly young people are depressed! I see across our own extended family the effect of young people being glued to screens spewing these qualities in movies and video games. Seriously, if you are what you eat, you are equally what you listen to and read, and you most certainly are what watch.
Modern culture has been drowning in waves of dystopian art and literature for a long time, but its intensity in the past several decades has exploded. Generally I keep my countenance clear of it. Now, with this admittedly fascinating plot and characters, dystopia has invaded my peace of mind.
Reading history means reading about both the goals and achievements of societies driven by the good, and the effects of evil that debase those achievements. Driving the plot of The Man in the High Castle are the brave few who seek the truth, despite awful personal cost, push back against the false narrative through subversion and guerrilla warfare, and just plain refuse to give up the beliefs of what it meant to be an American.
In our very time, growing cells of similar resistance in the form of parents, grandparents, teachers, administrators, patrons, and authors are passionately engaged in an eerily similar battle. So many of our precious core beliefs are under fire or have been exploded. Many otherwise responsible adults have given up. How we came to this point can be sorted out by future historians. But the costs of our social and educational dysfunction are apparent right now and will continue to rise for some time.
Nonetheless, people are fighting back with a potent, if fragmented, array of weapons. Writers more eloquent than I have laid out the battle plan and its rationale. Each person who helps a child learn a poem by heart, master the multiplication table, or learn a beautiful cursive becomes a courageous soldier. The treasures of our heritage, from great literature to mastery of languages, music, art, theater, and dance become our fortresses. Anyone who takes the time to impart the positive, uplifting values of an inspired life helps shatter the darkness of a dystopian view that suggests all is lost or meaningless.
Truth never fails. Vacuums will be filled by something. The fight is on. And truth, ultimately, is more powerful than lies.