Flash Post #2
Election, election, election. People won’t shut up about the election. Was there fraud? Is it the Turd Sandwich that’s lying to America, or is it the Giant Douche? Why not both!? While it certainly would be tempting to add my voice to the chorus–I have elsewhere within my social media sphere–I feel like what we all need right now is to just take a step back and breathe. So instead of me posting about the election and you clicking away to some other site out of exhaustion (maybe to look at the latest cat memes), how about I post some thoughts on an episode of The Twilight Zone? Not one of the various reincarnations, mind you, but the original series. Season three, episode eleven, to be exact. First broadcast on November 24th, 1961. That’s fifty-nine years ago as of this posting. To recap, John F. Kennedy was President and it wasn’t even a midterm election year. Point being, I think we can safely say that then, as I am sure we all hope will be the case for us soon, no one was talking about “the election” when this first aired. A nice, simple episode for a nice, simple blog post. Nothing to offend the election-weary reader. So please, oh please, won’t you keep reading?
That said…
***WARNING***
There are ***SPOILERS AHEAD***. If you haven’t already seen the fifty-nine year-old episode of a classic television series that is the subject of this post… who are we kidding? You probably never will. Keep reading.
The Premise
Like many classic episodes of The Twilight Zone, this one was adapted from a short story: “The Valley Was Still,” by Manly Wade Wellman. For the series, the title was rearranged and shortened to “Still Valley.” The story is set sometime during the American Civil War. This much is clear from the identity of the protagonist, a confederate soldier.
Act One: A Stirring
The teleplay opens with two confederate scouts anticipating the arrival of the Union Army. While they wait, one expresses a certain war weariness while the other, who will be our protagonist, remains firmly committed to his duty. After an initial stirring from the valley below, there is a sudden stillness. Our protagonist goes down alone to investigate. He leaves to his war-weary companion the task of carrying word to their superior if he should fail to return within fifteen minutes. Time enough to fill out the second act of a three-act twenty-five minute teleplay.
Act Two: The Still Valley
I’ll be honest with you. Here, “Still Valley” becomes one of the series’ weaker episodes. The lone scout spends several minutes knocking about a small town on the valley floor. While it will take you, the viewer, mere seconds to realize that some manner of witchcraft must be afoot as the place is littered with union soldiers frozen in marching order or mid-task, it will take the protagonist quite a bit longer to come to this conclusion (gotta pad the runtime, I guess). And when he does, he will express only slight bewilderment. In fact, his surprise barely rises above simple bemusement.
Then he meets Teague, an old man who is, like the scout, possessed with the power of locomotion. He can move. It turns out he’s got a book, see? What can he do with this book? Well, for one thing, he can can read out some words and cause whole armies to remain… still. The scout doesn’t believe the old man at first, but then Teague demonstrates by freezing the scout himself. After a suitable interval, Teague unfreezes the appreciably more credulous scout and assures him that this is no mere hypnosis, this power of his, and that the book can be used beyond the valley. Magic. Teague then explains that he is a conjurer and, with some amount of foresight, that he will be dead by sunset. Seeing in the scout the right attributes (recall his devotion to the Confederate cause), the old man offers him the book, to carry on with its power.
There’s just one catch. (Of course there is). Old Man Teague? He’s in league with the devil. And so too will our lone scout, and by extension the whole Confederate Army, if he takes that book and uses it. Well… he takes the book.
Act Three: The Resolution
With his fifteen minutes down in the valley neatly concluded, our protagonist returns to camp with the book and a story to tell. One thing I will give this episode credit for, even if it is somewhat clunky, is the appropriate level of incredulity expressed by all characters on first being told about the book and the powers it is supposed to confer. And how does the holder of the book respond each time? Not with further protestations that the incredulous listener really ought to listen, but with evidence. Actual proof that the assertions made are true. So while the viewer in me yawns as the story drags with a repeat of what I’ve already come to accept as part of my willing suspension of disbelief, the skeptic in me jumps for joy.
Just as the scout doubted the old man until he was himself frozen, he explains to his incredulous commanding officer how he went on to test the book (off screen) on a whole company of union soldiers. His commanding officer’s first reaction is to order this poor, tired man to bed and come back in the morning when he can talk sense. But just then (conveniently) the scout’s report is confirmed as another patrol returns, having come upon that same company of union soldiers, frozen as they were, and duly confounded. With the commanding officer accepting the truth of the claim at last–that the scout has returned with a book of spells capable of freezing the whole Union Army–they then proceed to weigh the pros and cons of its use. Sure, as the scout acknowledges, “it’s the devil’s work” but then maybe, he posits, “it’s time to call muster on the devil.” It’s 1863, people are dying, and the war just keeps raging on. The scout, committed as he is to the cause, makes the case that he should read from the book. His war-weary companion, who is war-weary after all, urges him to follow through as their commanding officer vacillates. Then the scout begins to read from the book, and…
Oh, right, that whole thing about the devil. It seems he must not only call upon Satan, but renounce God to read the spell that would put the whole Union Army to sleep. Well, gosh, who’d have thought that being in league with the literal devil, who we must take for granted for the purposes of this story exists, would necessarily require one to run afoul of God, who we must also for the purposes of this story take for granted as a very real, very extant entity in line with prevailing religious beliefs of the time? Well, I’m just shocked. Shocked, I tell you!
The Moral of the Story
Our protagonist, committed though he is to “the cause,” determines that if he must renounce what he believes to be good and true, what’s “right,” to achieve victory over the Union, then victory over the Union ought not to be had by him. By extension, if the Confederacy turns out not to have “right” on its side (and here I’ll take an aside to note that, given what the Confederacy was fighting for, this is unequivocally true) then it doesn’t deserve to win. All in hearing are thus persuaded, after a maudlin speech to that effect, to stand passively by as the scout throws the spell book onto the fire. It is then revealed that the scout and his companions will soon be on their way to Gettysburg which, fun fact, is where I took the picture at the head of this post (that’s the Eisenhower farmhouse, adjacent to the battlefield). Here it is again if you missed it. Just take a nice, deep breath, but please keep reading. Parting thoughts are below:
Parting Thoughts
The teleplay may lead one to conclude that good will necessarily triumph over evil, but I don’t think it goes that far. I do, however, think it makes a point about how, to the extent we are fallible human beings and may find ourselves unwittingly in the service of “evil” (for lack of a better word) even as we seek to do “good,” we should be prepared to step back and take stock of things from time to time. So if, for instance, you value things like truth, equality, and representative democracy (things I hope we can all agree are not only “good,” but fundamental to our Constitution and our Republic), but are then confronted with evidence that you have been supporting or enabling (perhaps owing to a completely understandable lack of exposure to alternative sources of information that in no way need indicate you are yourself any of these bad things–provided you’re willing to change) a lying, racist, proto-fascist would-be dictator who has made all manner of assertions, but offered no proof. Then, well… maybe you should reevaluate your position. That’s not about the election, that’s just some thoughts I have that I hope you will consider taking on board as America moves forward and puts distance between itself and The Twilight Zone.
A victory against one’s own principles is no victory. It is the most enduring form of defeat.
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