I went last night to see James Cameron’s Titanic in Imax 3D. At least a couple times, I found myself dodging things that appeared to leap from the screen. There were the ice bergs, of course, and then there were Kate Winslet’s tits. I use the word ”tits” deliberately. It seems more appropriate than boobs or breasts or mammae. Why else would they call it Titanic? The film is still as good as it was when it first came out. And the theme song is just as dreadful as ever. I’m glad Celine Dion has moved to Vegas; the Americans can keep her.
On April 13th, with the approach of the Titanic centenary, or at least the centenary of its destruction, I saw this on the Globe & Mail twitter feed: “Why the Titanic has captivated people for a century” with a link to an accompanying opinion piece.
I retweeted with this: “Because they’re trapped inside? Duh.”
It seems obvious to me.
A more serious answer would be that it stands as a cautionary tale that is almost classical in its mythic pull on our psyches. Or something like that. Arrogant men claimed the ship was unsinkable, and they were punished for their hubris. Some might call it Karma. Except for the fact that 1,500 mostly innocent people lost their lives for this hubris. If Karma is simple justice, then maybe the gods aren’t so just. But forgive me; I’m mixing my myths.
I once met a survivor of the Titanic. For a couple years, an elderly man worked as a part-time custodian at the church my family attended when I was a boy. One Sunday, we arrived early, and I stood by while my dad chatted him up and gradually got it out of him that he had been a kid my age when grown-ups put him on a lifeboat and said their good-byes.
When I was a kid, I could be an arrogant prick, at least in the privacy of my own thoughts. I remember thinking two things while the old man spoke:
1) I bet he’s lying. Not a wholly irrational thought. After all, anybody of a certain age could lie about such a thing. I could tell a wildly elaborate story about being in Manhattan on 9/11 and who could say otherwise? In fact, I bet a lot of people have placed themselves near ground zero that day when, in fact, they were picking their teeth in Kansas or wiping their asses in California.
2) Assuming he did survive the Titanic, don’t you think he should have been destined for greater things than pushing a broom? I mean, didn’t he survive for a reason? Didn’t his survival signify a higher purpose? Wasn’t it part of a bigger plan? Ending your days pushing a broom seems so … so mundane after surviving the most famous maritime disaster in history.
Ah yes, I’m no stranger to hubris.
Speaking of Karma, last week I participated in a Buddhist initiation rite. (Don’t ask. I have no answer.) It was an all-day affair and the leader, whom I first encountered through her book, digressed from time to time to tell us stories. When she was speaking of Karma, she paused to tell us the story of a cat. She said it happened to her aunt, but really it’s an urban legend probably as old as the Titanic itself. The story goes like this:
My aunt was driving her car to meet friends for lunch when a cat leapt from the curb. She slammed on the brakes but it was too late; she had struck and killed the cat. There were young children playing on the other side of the road. My aunt didn’t want them to be upset at the sight of a dead cat, so she rummaged through her trunk and found a Holt Renfrew bag that a friend had given her for something or other. She scooped the cat into the bag and shut the bag in the trunk of her car.
Arriving at the restaurant, my aunt was afraid that the cat might start to stink in the trunk. The front of the car was in the shade, so she took the bag from the trunk and set it on the hood where it was cooler. She met her friends inside the restaurant and took her seat by the window. From there, she watched as a Jaguar pulled into the parking space beside her car and a fashionably appointed lady got out. The lady noted the Holt Renfrew bag on the hood, and looking from side to side, scooped up the bag and carried it with her into the restaurant.
My aunt watched the lady order her lunch. As the lady waited, she took up the bag from beneath the table and peered inside. The lady fainted at the sight of the dead cat and the waiters were unable to revive her. They called an ambulance and as the paramedics loaded her stretcher into the back, one of the waiters ran outside with the Holt Renfrew bag held high. The paramedics stuffed the bag inside with the lady before they shut the doors and drove off.
Karma.
Once our leader was finished telling her story she said: “If only it was that simple.”
Karma isn’t really about justice, any more than the Titanic is a story about hubris. Innocent people died in the water. Without parents, children grew up to spend their lives pushing brooms.