Description
In this module we’ll be finding and explaining connections between the philosopher-activist Hannah Arendt’s notion of the “banality of evil” and Martin Scorsese’s disturbing film — based on true events — Silence.
The 1966 “source” of the film Silence is the novel by Shûsaku Endô. The film’s about Jesuit (i.e., Catholic) priests who suffered and were martyred for their faith in 17th century Japan, where Christianity, according to historical records, was outlawed.
Hannah Arendt: the “Banality of Evil”
It might be said that this course takes up the call of “how to be good in a world that seems to be falling apart,” a world that seems to be shot through with evil — both systemic evil (atmospheric evil); and individual evil which typically tends to be the byproduct of systemic evil: it’s is when the “absence of good” (Aristotle’s definition of evil) is felt by the individuals of X-community to be such a ubiquitous and omni-present condition that it might take an almost Herculean strength to not be oneself an outgrowth, a mirror of the evil of X-community.
As the renowned cultural critic-blogger Maria Popova reminds in the reading that I assigned for this module, the novelist Maya Angelou defined the above-mentioned species of evil — ubiquitous “banal evil” — in her 1982 conversation with Bill Moyers about courage and facing evil, in which she observed:
“Throughout our nervous history, we have constructed pyramidic towers of evil, ofttimes in the name of good.”
Angelou prefigured the sentiments of the intellectual Joseph Brodsky on the matter of “banal evil” —
“What we regard as Evil is capable of a fairly ubiquitous presence if only because it tends to appear in the guise of good.”
I wish to emphasize that the word “banal” — which dictionaries typically define as “cliche,” or “so lacking in originality as to be obvious and boring and unremarkable” — was chosen by Arendt to capture the notion that sometimes evil — in certain times and places and among certain communities of people — becomes unremarkable; evil becomes something that doesn’t shock us anymore: it becomes cliche, so much so that to do evil would be to be mirroring a kind of normal or “normative” or “workaday” condition of life.
Roger Ebert — commenting on the film Silence — once remarked that the act of evil in the film (which indeed is represented by Scorsese vaguely as a “caution,” or as a “cautionary” message) is as “matter-of-fact” as the act of merely “showing up for a day’s work.”
In other words, according to Arendt’s concept of “the banality of evil,” evil has become so “normative” that to not-do-evil would be to be actively breaking with a moral “code,” a “norm,” something regarded by the citizenry as “normal.”
Arguably the most potent example of “banal evil” was witnessed in the acts of slaughter inflicted upon the Jews by the “workers” of Nazism during what would later be named the “Holocaust.”
We speak of “workers” for whom the act of slaughtering Jews was akin to the matter-of-fact (“cliche”) act of “showing up for a day’s work,” which was essentially the act of keeping solidarity with just a “job description” written up by the CEO — i.e., the Chancellor of the German National Party — namely, Hitler.
In the words of Popova, taken from our module reading:
“A core cause of this perplexity [with regard to “banal evil” lies in the fact that while acts of evil can mushroom into monumental tragedies, the individual human perpetrators of those acts are often marked not with the grandiosity of the demonic but with absolute mundanity.”
We’ll glimpse the above “variety of evil” in the film Hannah Arendt (reserved for another module); but this “variety of evil” — banal evil — is similarly depicted in Silence.
Banal Evil = Silence; and Silence = a Character (a Composite Character) in the Film
“Silence” is a central theme in the film Silence.
And so I would like us, moreover, to understand the “work” of “silence” in the film as the “work” of many characters vaguely represented as one total (composite) character ticking in union with each other, adding up to one shadowy, ghostly presence of banal (silent) evil working itself out as one many-partied reality.
Banal evil — equated with the work of “silence” in the film — is (duh!) both invisible and only somewhat-audible; but it doesn’t mean that banal evil doesn’t exist… even as we cannot see the silence (I mean Scorsese’s sense and representation of “silence”) of banal evil. After all, we are called to ask:
Why did Scorsese choose to name his film “Silence”?
Because we are right to think of “silence” as a central character — as the work of many persons adding up to one reality of depraved, evil personhood.
As Ebert said of the film — “it starts with a long moment of actual silence, and embraces silence throughout. A few shots go inside characters’ perceptions, but for the most part you’re an observer, watching ‘silence,’ watching people from a distance — wood burning, waves crashing, wind moving through grass: this is what you often hear – the [vague-shadowy] audible presence of silence.’
“Silence” is not quiet — it is filled with moans of pain and screams of agony and the sounds of bones being broken and flame searing flesh. During such moments you fear silence, partly because the grave (at death) is silent.
The story is simple: two priests (Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver) leave Portugal for Japan. They find a third priest (Liam Neeson). He has gone missing while working as a missionary. The third priest is believed to have left priesthood – he stepped on an image of Jesus Christ after being tormented by the Japanese.
Eventually, one of these wandering priestsGarfield’s character, Father Sebastião Rodriguesgets captured and goes through a similar experience, surviving torture and witnessing the torture of others while pondering unanswerable questions: How much suffering can a man take before breaking and renouncing that which is most important to him? If he does break, does it mean he has failed God? Does God want him to resist blasphemy no matter what the cost? Or does he want the priest to give up and renounce his faith, secure in the knowledge that God’s love is great enough to forgive him for not being able to endure unendurable pain? Is God indifferent to the suffering? Does He even notice it?
Is God — from the standpoint of the faithful — silent? If “silent,” that would make the film representative of a “close system of evil.” Or is God’s “work”– from the standpoint of the faithful — still present, still working to bring about the goodness or redemption among mankind– even vaguely so? If God’s somehow “present”– from the standpoint of the faithful — that would make the film representative of an “open system of evil. “
Indeed, such questions have everything to do with our discussions about “closed” and “open” systems of evil from our first module lesson, because if Scorsese leaves the door open to an alternative to evil (namely redemption, even the tiniest possibility of goodness, redemption) — then it is a open system of evil; but possibly Scorsese leaves you feeling that the door has finally closed on an alternative to evil, in which case it’d be a closed system of evil that is represented in the film. It’s not easy to answer this question because it’ll be a matter of opinion — it’ll be about how you personally feel about what Scorsese does with his film.
The above will be one of your module questions. DO NOT expect to answer this question perfectly / correctly! I merely want your best guess based on evidence / lines from the film which you deem to be persuasive, convincing with regard to the question: Is God – from the standpoint of the faithful — silent? Or is God’s “work” — again from the standpoint of the faithful — still present, still at work?
Your second module question will be: find examples in Silence of the “banality of evil,” as defined above and in this module’s reading assignment– in the reflections of Maria Popova on Hannah Arendt’s characterization of evil as “banal.” Part 1:
In the film Silence, is God — from the standpoint of the faithful — silent? (Keeping in mind the title of the film: Silence)
If “silent,” that would make the film representative of a “close system of evil.” Or is God’s “work”– from the standpoint of the faithful — still present, still working to bring about the goodness or redemption among mankind– even vaguely so? If God’s somehow “present”– from the standpoint of the faithful — that would make the film representative of an “open system of evil. “
Indeed, such questions have everything to do with our discussions about “closed” and “open” systems of evil from our first module lesson, because if Scorsese leaves the door open to an alternative to evil (namely redemption, even the tiniest possibility of goodness, redemption) — then it is a open system of evil; but possibly Scorsese leaves you feeling that the door has finally closed on an alternative to evil, in which case it’d be a closed system of evil that is represented in the film. It’s not easy to answer this question because it’ll be a matter of opinion — it’ll be about how you personally feel about what Scorsese does with his film.
The above will be one of your module questions. DO NOT expect to answer this question perfectly / correctly! I merely want your best guess based on evidence / lines from the film which you deem to be persuasive, convincing with regard to the question: Is God – from the standpoint of the faithful — silent? Or is God’s “work” — again from the standpoint of the faithful — still present, still at work?
Part 2 –
Your second module question will be: find examples in Silence of the “banality of evil,” as defined above and in this module’s reading assignment– the reflections of Maria Popova on Hannah Arendt’s characterization of evil as “banal.” Use and explain quotes for your answer.
Study Materials:
1. Maria Popova, “The Banality of Evil: Hannah Arendt on the Normalization of Human Wickedness and Our Only Effective Antidote to It”
