I have been
a bookworm since before I could even read. My mother used to read for me from
illustrated children stories. So, my earliest knowledge about good and evil
came from tales such as Hansel and Gretel
or Cinderella, where the villains
were always totally evil and the main protagonists purely innocence. That
formula then shaped my perspective about the world through my childhood.
When I was
about 10 or 11 years old and already been bored with my children books, my
father—from whom I inherited the love of books—suggested that I tried Agatha
Christie for a change. I picked After the
Funeral from school library, and was instantly falling in love with
Christie's. I don't remember the exact title, but one of the books has really
shattered my conviction about good and evil. The pattern repeated while I
ploughed through nearly all Christie’s book. Christie's murderers were mostly
ordinary, good, respectable persons who, when being under certain pressure,
decide to commit murder. From Christie I learned that a murderer does not have different
qualification from normal persons—which until then I was certain I never
possess. This suggested that every human being has the possibility to commit
murder. It only needs a decision. It
really made me shuddered when I came to this conclusion. I imagined that with
only a weapon (and it could be just a pair of scissors or a penknife) I could
have killed someone if I decided to. I, too, could have been a murderer. And
like all teenagers, there was really a phase when I hated many things in the world;
which only added to my fear of myself! Like Christie said, murder is simple.
And that thought has literally ended my childhood innocence.
Fast
forward; like everybody else, I read Harry
Potter series. On the last chapter of Harry
Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Harry's youngest son Albus Severus has been
worried that he might be sorted to Slytherin on his first departure to
Hogwarts; to which Harry calmed him: "Albus
Severus Potter, you were named after two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them
was a Slytherin and he was the bravest man I've ever known. […] If it really
means that much to you, you can choose
Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account." It
implies that being good or evil is our
own choice; the decision is in our
hand; others will only “take our choice into account”. Really, if I have
not, at that time, been impressed by J.K. Rowling's power of storytelling, that
passage only would have made me love Harry
Potter. Of course, ever since the Agatha Christie period, I have learned
much about freewill and "God created everything good" doctrines; but
that passage has strengthened my believe, that to be good or evil is our own
choices—the freewill God has imposed
upon us, which no one—not even Himself—can
take from us.
For quite a long
time afterwards, I held on to that conviction. Then I got to know one 19th
century French writer who then became my most favorite author: Émile Zola. As
much as I admire and respect his works on the heredity and environment effect
on shaping human psychology, I can’t help thinking that Zola’s characters seem always
to be imprisoned by this handicap (heredity illness). And while I always love his
beautiful prose and mind-blowing stories—and I do admire his genius study on this
subject—I also keep asking myself: “But
what about freewill?” Maybe that’s why Zola has never been as much
respected as his piers—because he praised the nature of man more than his divine
quality.
Fast forward
again… Many classic pieces that I have devoured these years talked about
conscience and freewill (William Golding’s Lord
of the Flies is one of them), but they did not struck me as heavy as John
Steinbeck’s magnum opus that I have just read: East of Eden. It’s as if John Steinbeck, through this magnificent
book—and its prominent keyword: timshel—is
re-convincing me about the goodness of man. That no matter how bad, how evil, how
monstrous were our ancestors, and how thick their blood is inside our veins, it
is what we choose that in the end
matters, because God has imposed us with the most precious gift: the freedom of choice.
This is a great post. I love the way that you have related the entire nature/nurture issue to literature. It is often approached from the direction of philosophy and of science. I like your take on East of Eaden and Timshel. If you are looking interested in a sociological and scientific perspective on all this, I highly recommend Steven Pinker Pinker’s The Blank Slate.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Brian! It's only lately I have realised that my interest in consience and good-and-evil has begun from my childhood. Is it because my father has unconsciously introduced me to Agatha Christie very early or not, I can't tell. But it has moulded my literary nature eversince.
DeleteI don't really keen on non-fictions (I take The Blank State as non fiction, or is it not?), but I'll check on it. Thanks Brian, for the recommendation.