Frayn on Death and Immortality
Those who wish to abolish death (whether by
physical or metaphysical means)–at what stage of life do they want the process
to be halted? At the age of 20? At 35, in our prime? To be 35 for two years
sounds attractive, certainly. But for 3 years? A little dull, surely. For for 5
years–ridiculous. For 10–tragic. This film is so absorbing that we want this
bit to go on and on. You mean, you want the projector stopped, to watch a
single motionless frame? No, no, no, but perhaps you’d like the whole sequence
made up as an endless band, and projected indefinitely? Not that, either. The
sea and the stars and the wastes of the desert go on forever and will not die.
But the sea and the stars and the wastes of the desert are dead already.
by
Michael Frayn, Constructions, 1933
I talk about immortality in my course on philosophy and
death. I begin by noting it’s not the case that the choice is immortality or
our current life span, thinking about the question from the point of view of
what one would most prefer. Surely we could say that 80 is not enough, while at
the same time thinking that forever would be too much. Those of who favour
extension of the human life span needn’t have immortality as our goal. But what
I like about the Frayn passage is the connection he draws between change and
life itself. I think about this in terms of my children and the speed at which
they change. It seemed barely had they been born that they grew into toddlers now
older children and I miss so much the babies they were. Children lose that newborn
smell and feel so quickly. And yet would I want them to be babies forever? No.
At what age would I pause and spend more time? Fast forward the terrible twos
for certain. I could freeze the babies in time and have the new people my
children were becoming as well. Imagine a house full of babies and their later
selves at various stages! Too many children. No, change seems built into our
relationships with children and with other adults too. Sometimes I miss the 20
year old I fell in love with though he’s still with me in his 40 something
form. So it’s not just our own younger selves we long for. But freezing
ourselves or others in time is not a happy alternative. So as much as I liked
35, I must admit I look forward to 50 as well. Bring it on.
