Wit and the meaning of life.

I watched a film called “Wit” recently. It was a heart felt jerker of the tears. I watched in an uncomfortable conference room where the chairs roll on the slick, wooden floor whether you want them to or not. It was a room full of interesting and diverse people who were unified in the single thought that this film could not end soon enough. Now, that’s not to say that the film didn’t affect any of us as we hoped for time to speed up. Quite the contrary, I witnessed this wide group of almost 40 get sucked into the issues of the film. There were a few who checked out in the first few minutes but most of them came back as Emma Thompson laid out her character’s misery. It is certainly worth watching and even more worth discussing. The reason being that there comes a point toward the end where, knowingly or unknowingly, director Mike Nichols and company answer the question “What is the meaning of life?”

I find it hard to imagine that a man as shrewd as Nichols was unaware of that moment in the script and later the film where Thompson chucks a life’s worth of work dissecting John Donne in favor of a popsicle and the kind touch of a fellow human being. There is no sex or even romance attached to the touch and that may very well be the point. The scene is simple, straightforward and exceedingly powerful. The point made, or the one that I got, is that the meaning of life is kindness, full stop. That’s all there is to it really. Be kind to your fellow travelers. No amount of speculation as to what Donne meant by anything he wrote could replace kindness, especially in a time of need. Further speculation on how (or if) Joyce wrote densely to vex literary critics or if Rothko meant his blocks of color as landscapes is even less useful.

The moment wasn’t properly discussed amongst the crowd of semi-strangers who were in such a hurry for minutes to turn to hours since discussion of this provocative point would only further delay the very event we were all hoping would arrive. In retrospect, nothing could have been further from the truth. Discussion was inevitable and should have certainly included this particular point. We spent time talking about how healthcare and research do not have the same goals and how, too often, a willing participant in a study is akin to one of Mr. Wonka’s golden tickets. That is an extremely valid point and both Christopher Lloyd and Jonathan M. Woodward do a wonderful job showing the ugly side of the eagerness to solve medical problems. But, the point just isn’t as big as the meaning of life. I would have enjoyed the ensuing argument of how it cannot be that simple and how there is inherent value in intricate work whether it is medical research or literary study. I haven’t a qualm with the latter point but take serious issue with the former.

Why can’t it be that simple?

What is wrong with simple?

Perhaps a group of approximately forty semi-strangers isn’t the best forum to discuss the meaning of life. Or, more likely, it is the perfect forum for such things. I think of what a young friend once told me when I invited her to go swimming. She explained that in her culture it would not be acceptable for her to go swimming with a man who is not her boyfriend (or husband) since he will then see her body covered only by “very small amounts of clothing.” I pointed out that the pool we would meet to swim is a public place where we both swim fairly often and that there are many people who have seen and will see her in “very small amounts of clothing.” She responded by saying that it was okay for them to see her because “they don’t know me.” This is why discussing the meaning of life with semi-strangers would be ideal. The relative anonymity of the situation would create greater amounts of honesty. The final aspect worth mentioning about the swimming situation is that when I did see this young woman at the pool we both pretended that we did not know each other out of deference to her culture and/or her boyfriend. It’s just another highly amusing entry in the cross-cultural divide.

But, we did not discuss the meaning of life. We spoke about the heroism of Audra McDonald’s character, Susie. Susie was the dispenser of the kindness in question and the antithesis of the researchers. She was the easy-going, uncluttered conscience of the film. She understood that it could be that simple. I didn’t realize until I looked up the film on IMDB that McDonald had played that role. I was familiar with her as a singer.

Before you start to think that kindness is all that there is in the world I’d like to explain what spurred me to even write this. It’s not a happy thought, nor is it kind. It’s a frightening thought, in fact.

I am willing to accept the hypothesis that kindness is ultimately to what we should aspire. My fear is simply that I have experienced kindness from either end and while I find it to be a wonderful thing I do think I may have had my fill. Not in the sense that I am out to be unkind but more to the point that if this is the meaning and if I feel that I have exhausted my enjoyment of it then why continue?

And that is the question.