On Thanos, the White Walkers and postapocalyptic futures
Now that the end of an era is signaled by “Game of Thrones” and, ostensibly, the “Avengers” franchise saying their goodbyes, I’ve come to some realizations. Not only are these shows ending, they (among others) have also dealt with iterations of the world’s end, of rebuilding and of dystopian futures.
I suppose that in the past decade or so, it’s safe to say that popular culture — and geek culture, in particular — has always had this ominous sense that the world is ending.
Actually, I might extend my argument here and acknowledge the vast number of literary and media forms which have dealt with civilization ending prior to this period (from H. G. Wells, modernist literature, pulp stories and early comics, to early science fiction/fantasy writers and disaster movies).
Have comics, genre fiction and sci-fi/fantasy movies and shows replaced the Greek oracle, biblical prophets, and, yes, even that man on the street with a sign saying “The End is Near”?
Have these popular media forms, both denigrated and wildly enjoyed, been foreseeing an ominous future?
After all, the threats and what they represent are all arguably interchangeable and incredibly interesting. Replace your zombies with frozen zombies (read: the White Walkers); with dystopian futures set in virtual reality, or with handmaids in Gilead, or with every male creature on Earth dying (leaving the planet only with women), or with Immortan Joe; with Milla Jovovich as Nimue the Blood Queen. And let’s not forget Thanos and his MO (modus operandi) of wiping out populations, getting to act as both judge and executioner.
With every comic, series, book or show, there’s this undeniable sense of dread and fear. If the world hasn’t ended yet, it’s on its way. And soon. I may be overreacting, but I think this dread and fear is quite palpable in our own world. From right-wing politics in the West and the threat of global warming to the spread of hatred yet again, religious or otherwise, it appears as if those fears are justified.
It’s ironic that our sci-fi/fantasy movies, series, books and comics these days are havens of escape and momentary pauses in reality despite their dealing with very serious subjects, all veiled in CGI and plot points. Why? Watch “Doomsday Preppers” on National Geographic or read about nuclear weapons testing. Think about Elon Musk. People really are keen on preparing for a future—or in this case, a nonfuture.
The characters who may take the form of villains or antagonists always tell the heroes or protagonists something. That humanity has made terrible choices and mistakes, and that these villains have decided to take on the roles of tyrannical repairmen and leaders. We have let the wrong people gain power, thereby losing our own. At other times, we get caught up in greed. We’re not very able managers and caretakers of our own world and of each other. And that’s when things go terribly wrong.
So what must we do? What could we do? How do we bridge the gap between the world of superheroes, imagined futures, fantasies, and the real world? I read H. P. Lovecraft, so I’m tempted to give in to his ideas of cosmic and temporal horror.
Let me bring up Thanos again and address the elephant in the room (not quite a spoiler). In “Avengers: Endgame,” even superheroes give in to despair and hopelessness. As we’ve seen in the previous movies, even they can be defeated.
But in our world, there are no superheroes. There’s death and poverty, meaninglessness—and politicians. There’s a lack of justice, a staggering amount of pain, a resurgence of blind hate and a lot of people who don’t care and may never will. There’s an onslaught of information, threatening to disorient and distract us from what’s really important.
This is the actual reality we’re living in. But there will always be literature, film, television and even music to serve as our modern-day Tiresias. And we can think about these things and do what we can to choose another direction, no matter how many people, real or imagined, preach about the end of our world.
Karla Patricia D. Cristobal, 27, is pursuing her MA in English at the University of the Philippines Diliman after giving up on digital marketing. She has written stories for comics sold at Komikon (and collaborates with illustrators), writes songs and, if her schedule permits, performs at open mic gigs.
