Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Beast of the Southern Wild and Allegory

A film like Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012) is meant to be read on so many more levels than just the literal. It’s a story about nothing and everything at the same time, about the inconsequential and the essential. Medieval theorists, mostly concerned with scriptural interpretation, debated the pros and cons (as well as the ethical implications) of using allegory and symbolism to teach about divinity and morals. Each of the philosophers/poets that we studied this week admitted to the benefits of allegory in certain cases. Beasts of the Southern Wild is a perfect argument for the need of figurative language in the arts. The ambiguity of the events leaves the reader open to find countless interpretations, the style in which it’s told gives voice to several underrepresented populations, and it forces the reader to dig deep to find meaning thus making the significance even more poignant.  
                  Through an informal poll of my three friends who have seen the film, it’s very obvious that there is no one interpretation. I myself have seen it multiple times and each time I glean something new. As Thomas Aquinas and Dante both mentioned, to find meaning in any given text you must analyze it through several different lenses: literally, allegorically, morally, and anagogically. On its most basic level, Beasts of the Southern Wild is the story of Hushpuppy, a young black girl living in the slums of the south. She and her father live on an island just off the Louisiana coast lovingly called “The Bathtub” which is completely flooded when a massive hurricane hits the area. While trying to survive the aftermath of the storm, Hushpuppy is forced to face her mother’s abandonment, her father’s failing health, and her own faith and power. At the beginning of the film, her teacher tells the legend of the aurochs, a species of beasts that lived thousands of years ago. The tales of their terror are enough to frighten hushpuppy into making them a reality for her. Coupled with the threat of melting ice caps, the storm convinces Hushpuppy that she has broken something and the aurochs, long since frozen, have thawed out and are coming to attack. These beasts can serve as a symbol of Hushpuppy’s fear and building anxiety. As her “normal” begins to slip away (first with the storm, then her father’s declining health) the beasts get closer and closer. At the end of the film, when she’s searched for her mother, found that she is an impossible option, and comes back to face her father’s imminent death, she turns to literally face the beasts and declares, “you’re my friend, kind of.” The animals kneel before her and she leaves them behind as she goes to be with her father. Acknowledging that her fears are what have driven her to behave certain ways is, in her 6-year-old mind, the equivalent of “kind of” being friends.
Morally, the story offers several different options. The destruction of the levy with the armed alligator leads the rescue team to discover the survivors of the bathtub and evacuate them to the makeshift hospital. This could teach a reader of the consequences that our actions have, especially those motivated by selfishness. Hushpuppy spends the majority of the film believing that all of the issues that are happening are because she got angry with her father, set her house of fire, and hit him. She constantly talks about how she’s broken things and how everything in the universe bust fit together just right in order for it to work. But towards the end she says, “I’m a little piece of a big universe, and that makes things right” teaching us that things aren’t destiny but that we have to make the best of what we’re given. Anagogically, this film has such a wider scope of the infinite than it first admits to. It’s more than Hushpuppy, it’s more than her family, and it’s more than the bathtub. It’s a film for all humans. It emphasizes the potential and the responsibility that we all have to take control of our own lives. Hushpuppy, although young, takes control of her fears and is made a stronger person because of it. The power that comes with confidence is something intangible yet as real as you or me. This power and human will is what sets us apart from the animals and, I argue, is part of the reason for our existence. Reading the film in the four ways suggested gives it four different meanings. From within those, there are an almost infinite number of specific readings a viewer could decipher making the allegory one that is the most beneficial to the individual reader.
As Dante stressed, poetics, scriptures, and teachings need to be produced in the vernacular of the people who need to learn. Making a text more accessible is for the greater good, producing a community of thinkers. Making things easier to create helps give voice to an under-represented group(s). Beasts was told from the point of view of a child (a much underrepresented group) who is a black girl (two, three) living in complete poverty in the richest nation in the world. The types of people who live in a place like The Bathtub are so far removed from the average American that they are never heard from in popular culture. Telling the story of the human spirit and its capacity to overcome adversity is something that resonates with all people. Telling it through such an underrepresented facet of people makes it relatable to everyone, those who are in a similar place in life and those who are much better off.
Being narrated by such a young character often makes the story difficult to decipher. Hushpuppy listens to the heartbeats of animals and the imagined conversation of leaves. The seriousness of the situation she finds herself in isn’t immediately apparent to the audience because it’s not immediately apparent to Hushpuppy. And the argument about whether or not the aurochs were real or not can get heated quickly. By making it less on the nose, the reader has to look past the literal and force himself to see the dozens of layers below in order to find meaning. Looking only skin deep might leave the reader with nothing more than a desire o stay away from Louisiana or to avoid a life of poverty. A deeper reading may help someone become aware of people living foreign lifestyles in their own country, causing them to have a little more compassion for those they interact with everyday. An even deeper reading could inspire a reader to face their own fears, take responsibility for their own actions, and set about to make a change in the world. The deeper the reading, the more rewarding the payoff, as Boccacio preached.

The modern philosophical, theoretical, and critical consensus seems to be very pro-allegory, pro-metaphor, pro-“artsy.” During the time that these philosophers and poets were writing, however, the integrity of the allegory was still in question. I am grateful for their arguments and discoveries that have opened the doors to films like Beast of the Southern Wild so that I am not only allowed but encouraged to dig deeper, ask questions, and find meaning that is significant to me.

Amy Roskelley
9/25/2013

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