A Warning from Cinematic History: The Tragic Case of James Xavier - The Man with the X-Ray Eyes

"He stripped souls as bare as bodies!"

 Ray Milland as Dr James Xavier in

The Man with the X-Ray Eyes (1963)

 

I. 

 

People who subscribe to the myth of Genesis [1] believe that darkness is simply a lack of illumination, or the absence of visible light. 

 

In other words, they think of it as a purely negative quality in binary opposition to divine radiance; that truth, goodness, and wisdom all shine brightly, whilst darkness is the home of secrets, lies, and a shameful form of ignorance that leads to sin. 

 

Such metaphysical dualism is, of course, just a convenient way of ordering the world for simple-minded folk who fear complexity (and, indeed, fear the darkness and those things that go bump in the night).

 

Artists and philosophers, on the other hand, understand that not only is darkness vital - that human life needs a little shadow to add depth and mystery - but light and darkness are coeval. That is to say, they are intimately connected and bring each other forth; not absolutely distinct and separate. 

 

Thus, when I say that I love the darkness, I am not implying I hate the light. 

 

Indeed, my concern, as a philosopher, is not to critique those who wish to see the world clearly by the light of reason, but take issue with those who subscribe to an ideal of total transparency, driven as they are by an insane desire to see through everything in a profoundly dangerous (and nihilistic) manner as if they had x-ray vision like the man who best exemplifies our Transparenzgesellschaft [2], James Xavier. 

II.

 

The Man with the X-Ray Eyes (1963) is an American science fiction film directed by Roger Corman, from a script by Ray Russell and Robert Dillon, and starring Ray Milland as Dr James Xavier, a scientist who develops eye drops that allow him to see beyond the visible spectrum into the ultraviolet and x-ray wavelengths. 

 

What starts out as fun - seeing through a pretty girl's clothing - soon ends in tragedy. For eventually Xavier can see the world only in forms of light and texture that his brain is unable to fully comprehend and - having lost the darkness - he loses his mind and his life. 

 

The film was a huge hit at the time, but it is only now that it's warning about the dangers of total transparency and of no longer being able to close one's eyes and dream in revitalising darkness, takes on cultural pertinence.

 

As Xavier's self-induced condition worsens, he begins to wear thick protective goggles, that uncannily anticipate the headsets that we are encouraged to put on in order to explore a digital metaverse in which reality is dissolved in an acid of virtual light.     

 

One fears that eventually the only thing that will save us from madness will be to gouge out our own eyes, as Xavier does his.  

 

   

 

If thine eyes offend thee ...

 

 

Notes

 

[1] I'm referring here to the famous opening lines of Genesis 1, which detail how light was created by God and separated off from the primal darkness that was upon the face of the deep when the Earth was without form and void.

 

[2] This concept is explored by Byung-Chul Han in his book The Transparency Society, trans. Erik Butler, (Stanford University Press, 2015). I have discussed this book in a three-part post on Torpedo the Ark: click here for part 1; here for part 2; here for part 3. 

Hello Darkness My Old Friend ...

Hello darkness, my old friend - by Niranjan Morkar

dribble.com

 

 

I. 

 

The three fundamental laws of logic - (i) the law of non-contradiction; (ii) the law of the excluded middle; and (iii) the principle of identity - are all well and good, but cannot be thought valid for all forms of thinking. 

 

Why? Because - whether our logicians like to admit it or not - some forms of thinking rely upon creative madness and daimonic inspiration and so are not regulated by reason alone. 

 

Our very greatest poets, for example, playfully affirm paradox, ambiguity, and what Barthes terms the pleasure of the text; they are unafraid of appearing inconsistent or irrational and are proud to proclaim that if, like Whitman, they contradict themselves that's fine with them (for they contain multitudes) [1].        

 

II. 

 

Similarly, our great poet-philosophers, like Heidegger, argue that even the most enlightened thinking requires darkness: 

 

"This darkness is perhaps in play for all thinking at all times. Humans cannot set it aside. Rather they must learn to acknowledge the dark as something unavoidable and to keep at bay those prejudices that would destroy the lofty reign of the dark. Thus the dark remains distinct from the pitch black as the mere and utter absence of light. The dark however is the secret of the light. The dark keeps the light to itself. The latter belongs to the former. Thus the dark has its own limpidity." [2] 

 

This dark limpidity of thinking, is something that must always be protected. However, it's hard to do so when everything is now lit up with electric lights and we aspire to an ideal of excessive brightness that is brighter than a thousand suns.

 

As Heidegger says:   

 

"The light is no longer an illuminated clearing, when the light diffuses into a mere brightness [...] It remains difficult [...] to keep at bay the admixture of the brightness that does not belong and to find the brightness that is alone fitting to the dark. [...] Mortal thinking must let itself down into the dark depths of the well if it is to see the stars by day. It remains more difficult to guard the limpidity of the dark than to procure a brightness that only wants to shine as such. What only wants to shine, does not illuminate. [3]

 

In sum: whenever you start to think about thinking, you are instantly transported into darkness ...

 

 

Notes

 

[1] See Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, 51: click here to read on poets.org.  

 

[2] Martin Heidegger, Basic Principles of Thinking (Freiburg Lectures, 1957), in Bremen and Freiburg Lectures, trans. Andrew J. Mitchell, (Indiana University Press, 2012), p. 88.

 

[3] Ibid., pp. 88-89. 

 

 

This post (as promised) is for Jenina Bas Pendry. 

 

For a sister post to this one, click here.