Teoría de la Ciencia. Gustavo Bueno y el Cierre Categorial


La Fundación Juan March ofrece cuatro conferencias en formato audio, en las que Gustavo Bueno expone los ejes fundamentales de la Teoría del Cierre Categorial.Se trata por tanto de un material de enorme relevancia para conocer de primera mano la génesis gnoseológica de este modelo filosófico que ha venido conformando a la Escuela de Filosofía de Oviedo y el Materialismo Filosófico
http://www.march.es/conferencias/anteriores/index.asp?busqueda=avanzada&conferenciante=Gustavo+Bueno

memoria histórica: un concepto espúreo (via Arsfilosofotv el arte del filósofo en eTV)

los hechos históricos deben ser manejados con prudencia

El video sobre la memoria histórica colgado en anterior mensaje ha de ser contrastado con el análisis en el que Gustavo Bueno define como concepto espúreo memoria histórica http://www.nodulo.org/ec/2003/n011p02.htmRead More

via Arsfilosofotv el arte del filósofo en eTV

chat con Gustavo Bueno


Lunes, 18 de Enero de 2010
texto tomado de http://www.fgbueno.es/med/dig/20100118.pdfChat con Gustavo Bueno
Celebrado el día 18-01-2010
Filósofo; autor de ‘El fundamentalismo democrático’
El filósofo nació en 1924 y es autor del sistema conocido como materialismo filosófico.
En 1960 se establece en Asturias, donde ejerce como catedrático en la Universidad de
Oviedo, institución en la que colabora hasta 1998. Fundador de la revista ‘El Basilisco’, es
autor de numerosos libros y artículos. Entre sus obras más importantes destacan
‘Ensayos materialistas’, ‘El animal divino’, ‘Primer ensayo sobre las Categorías de las
Ciencias Políticas’, ‘El sentido de la vida’, ‘El mito de la cultura’, ‘España frente a Europa’,
‘Panfleto contra la Democracia realmente existente’, ‘Telebasura y democracia’, ‘El mito
de la Izquierda’ y ‘La vuelta a la caverna: Terrorismo, Guerra y Globalización’. Ahora
presenta, con la editorial Temas de Hoy, ‘El fundamentalismo democrático / La
democracia española a examen’. Es una obra que somete a crítica los principios
ideológicos del fundamentalismo democrático, que considera a la democracia como la
forma perfecta de la sociedad política, el fin de la historia y el mejor de los mundos
posibles.
1. ¿Qué es más corrupto a su juicio, que una emisora de radio emita
ilegalmente o que sean los gobiernos de las comunidades autónomas quienes
den (segun les parezca) las licencias para emitir?
Enviado por: Luis
La corrupción tiene muchos grados, y depende del criterio que se establezca y de las
clases de corrupción. Por ejemplo, si distinguimos como se hace en el libro entre
corrupciones delictivas y corrupciones no delictivas, puede decirse que una emisora de
radio que emite ilegalmente es más corrupta delictivamente que un gobierno autónomo
que de licencias dentro de las normas para emitir.
2. Usted lleva bastantes años escribiendo acerca de temas relacionados con la
democracia y la política actual (Pensamiento Alicia; Panfleto contra la
Democracia realmente existente; Mito de la izquierda…) ¿Va a continuar o
con este libro se cierra el ciclo?
Enviado por: José Luis
No lo se. Depende enteramente de como vaya evolucionando la democracia en nuestro
país o en otros: lo que puede suceder en los próximos años es que las democracias
evolucionen hacia formas muy diversas, por ejemplo en la linea de la democracia
popular de Chávez, si los pluscuálidos le permiten desarrollarla.
3. Buenas tardes, el problema real de España, es la facilidad que hay para
eludir el pago de impuestos, es insostenible tener gratis tantos servicios
(sanidad, educación, seguridad, pensiones, justicia, obras públicas,
televisiones, subvenciones, subsidios por el desempleo, etc…), cuando existe
el dinero negro en el 90%, de los trabajos de construcción, hostelería,
agricultura, transportes, limpieza, talleres, alquileres, compraventa de
viviendas, contratos a media jornada cuando se trabaja el día entero, (eso si
hay contrato). ¿Porque ningún partido se atreve a realizar los cambios
estructurales necesarios? ¿Creen que se quedarían sin votos? y por lógica
sería una sociedad mucho más exigente a los desmanes políticos que se ven.
Muchas gracias. (Carlos Beltrán)
Enviado por: carlos
Probablemente los partidos políticos no hacen más cosas por temor a perder votos, y en
esto no obran imprudentemente, porque si perdieran tantos votos dejarían de ser
partidos solventes.
4. ¿Podría explicarnos brevemente en qué se basa usted para oponerse a la
nueva ley de plazos del aborto que está impulsando el gobierno?
Enviado por: Jon
En lineas generales porque la ley establece plazos artificiosos en un curso continuo, a la
manera como los geógrafos establecen meridianos y paralelos sobre un territorio en el
que no hay ni meridianos ni paralelos. La cuestión de fondo se reduce, por tanto, a
demostrar por qué los plazos del aborto son extrínsecos y por tanto la elección de un
plazo determinado (las catorce semanas) es tan gratuita como pudiera serlo elegir como
plazo los ocho meses y medio o incluso los dos años del infante (es decir, el que todavía
no habla, aunque ya está desprendido del seno materno).
5. Juan Luís Cebrián, consejero delegado del grupo PRISA, publicó hace unos
años un libro que se llama igual que el suyo: “El Fundamentalismo
Democrático”. ¿Conoce este libro? ¿Trata de lo mismo?
Enviado por: Pedro
Conozco el libro de Cebrián, que fue publicado cuando mi “Panfleto contra la democracia
realmente existente” (en donde yo oponía fundamentalismo y funcionalismo
democráticos) llevaba más de un año en la editorial. El fundamentalismo democrático de
Cebrián y Felipe González lo he definido como arquetipo de la acepción
“fundamentalismo democrático miserable”. Las razones las doy en el siguiente artículo
de El Catoblepas de este mes de enero: http://www.nodulo.org/ec/2010/n095p02.htm
6. ¿Qué sentido le da usted a la “corrupción” en su libro?
Enviado por: JJ
Diversos sentidos que se exponen precisamente en los primeros capítulos del libro, y
que sería improcedente pretender resumir en unas líneas. Por ejemplo, el capítulo
primero consta de los siguientes epígrafes: Capítulo 1. Sobre las acepciones ordinarias
del término «corrupción» El término «corrupción» tiene acepciones que desbordan
ampliamente el campo de la democracia Las definiciones genéricas de «corrupción» del
diccionario solamente son filosóficas por su apariencia La idea general y vulgar de
corrupción es oscura y confusa, y requiere para ser utilizada en los debates políticos
mayor análisis La claridad y distinción de la idea general de corrupción no se obtiene por
criterios prácticos ad hoc, sino que requiere penetrar en la estructura ontológica de la
idea
7. Si para Sócrates fue peligroso enfrentarse a los políticos de su época, como
se cuenta en la Apología, ¿qué puede significar hoy y aquí filosofar contra el
poder?
Enviado por: Francisco
Significa cosas parecidas pero no idénticas.
8. ¿Por qué la sociedad aguanta a la clase política que no hace más que
trincar y trabajar en su propio interés como se confirma día a día?
Enviado por: Hartita ando
Porque la sociedad está implicada con la clase política, y viceversa, y cuando no hay
clase política en absoluto, como estamos viendo hoy en Haití, la sociedad se degrada
hasta límites puramente etológicos, en conductas similares a las de una banda de
babuinos.
9. Buenas tardes, según usted, cuánto daño le hace al PP el ¿integrismo
religioso de muchos de sus dirigentes?
Enviado por: Sara Rodríguez
Es muy difícil cuantificar las ventajas e inconvenientes que aportan al PP los integristas a
los que usted se refiere. ¿No sería peor que estos integristas estuvieran fuera del PP?
10. Hola, ¿qué le parece lo mejor de Zapatero?¿Y lo peor? ¿Prefiere a Aznar
o a Zapatero?
Enviado por: Julio R.
No conozco personalmente a Zapatero. Mi preferencia es aquí irrelevante.
11. Qué le parece una teoría que dice que el día que uno de los dos grandes
partidos (PSOE o PP) desaparezca, el otro, irremediablemente lo hara? ¿Cree
que podría desaparecer alguno?
Enviado por: Menda
Usted parece que está equiparando los partidos políticos a los Dióscuros.
12. integrista en politica quien es para vd.?
Enviado por: Enjuto
El integrismo puede ser fundamentalista y puede dejar de serlo, y el fundamentalismo
puede ser integrista o puede dejar de serlo. Es decir, el fundamentalismo apela sobre
todo a sus principios o fundamentos, mientras que el integrismo apela a todas las
circunstancias, corolarios, consecuencias, &c., que acompañan al partido. Por ejemplo,
la Iglesia católica, en muchas épocas, ha sido fundamentalista, pero no integrista, por su
institución de la confesión auricular, mediante la cual estba dispuesta a perdonar en
cualquier momento.
13. ¿Deberíamos intervenir el resto de países cuando observamos abusos de
poder y falta a la democracia como en Venezuela?
Enviado por: Tití
Si ese “resto de países” pudiera intervenir conjuntamente, lo haría sin duda, pero iría en
contra de los principios de la ONU, y además, en ese resto de los países, por ejemplo,
no estarían los aliados de Venezuela, como por ejemplo Irán.
14. cómo se puede arreglar el alto nivel de absentismo y fracaso escolar que
tiene nuestro país?
Enviado por: munito
Me declaro incompetente para contestar esta pregunta aquí y ahora. Doctores tiene la
Santa Democracia que sabrán responder.
15. ¿Aprueba la democracia española?
Enviado por: María Palacios
Depende.
16. Ve a Rajoy un hombre para liderar el gobierno de este país?
Enviado por: Chataaaaa
Sí, hasta que no se revele otro mejor…
17. Hoy cumple 95 años Carrillo. ¿Qué opinión tiene de este hombre? Gracias
Enviado por: Crikmson
19/01/2010 Diariocrítico – chat con Gustavo Bueno
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Efectivamente, Carrillo nació hace 95 años en Gijón. Aprovecho esta ocasión para
felicitarle por su cumpleaños. A estas alturas de su vida es una figura histórica en la que
hay que distinguir muchos aspectos, como él mismo lo hace.
18. a qué partido ve más integrista? a psoe o al pp o al pce
Enviado por: mariana
Integrista en realidad no lo es ninguno de los tres, y es dificil que lo sean por la
indefinición de muchos de los aspectos de sus programas y prácticas políticas.
19. Si libro se titula el fundamentalismo democratico. Precisamente ahora que
está tan cuestionada la clase política de nuestro país, con un gobierno malo y
una oposición peor aun, ¿es un buen momento democrático? ¿por qué no
funciona lapolitica en nuestro país, por la crisis o por el mal hacer de nuestros
políticos?
Enviado por: Luis R.
No entiendo qué quiere usted decir con “buen momento democrático”.
20. A qué se refiere cuando dice integrismo democrático?
Enviado por: Luis
Integrismo democrático sería la conjunción de todos los principios, pero también de
todas las normas prácticas, usos y costumbres de una determinada democracia ya
consolidada.
21. ¿estaría bien hacer un gran hermano de la politica encerrando a politicos
de distintos partidos en una estancia durante unos dias? cree que serviría
para que el ciudadano viera algo distinto?
Enviado por: carmencita
Creo que la experiencia sería inutil y no probaría nada.
22. Hola Don Gustavo, Todavia vale la pena leer a Bertrand Russell? Si
hacemos caso a Platon, un filosofo deberia estudiar muchas matematicas,
como es que las facultades de filosofia se preocupan mas de analisis
filologicos? Se anima a presentar un lista de conocimentos imprescindibles
para el aspirante a filosofo?
Enviado por: Pedro Pereiro
Su pregunta es muy interesante, pero no me es posible responderla de un modo
presentable en este contexto.
23. Sr. Bueno cómo es que ha pasado de una defensa de las ideas de
izquierda a sostener y apoyar ideas conservadoras, representadas por el PP?
Gracias.
Enviado por: Victor V.
Está usted completamente equivocado, y me parece que es víctima de un maniqueísmo
primario. Al hacerme esta pregunta debería usted haber tenido en cuenta que todos mis
últimos libros vienen a defender en serio la tesis de que la distinción entre derecha e
izquierda es hoy un fósil; y si es así, su pregunta queda totalmente desbordada.
24. Si desde su filosofía sólo puede corromperse lo corpóreo, ¿en qué sentido
puede hablarse de la corrupción en ideologías y pensamientos?
Enviado por: Alexia
Lo corpóreo está utilizado en el libro de un modo asertivo y no exclusivo, para utilizar la
terminología escolástica. Las ideologías y los pensamientos están también vinculados a
estructuras que tienen que ver con el cuerpo.
25. Usted escribió ‘Telebasura y democracia’. Pero, ¿no cree que si hay
programas basura es porque hay público basura? ¿Cuándo vamos a definir los
conceptos hasta en sus últimas consecuencias?
Enviado por: rick
Si usted tiene la amabilidad de releer ese libro, “Telebasura y democracia”, advertirá que
en él se distingue constantemente entre basura fabricada y basura revelada. Por cierto la
basura revelada o desvelada (por ejemplo, lo que una cámara de televisión puede
ofrecer cuando la enfoca ante un arrabal de Calcuta lleno de ratas que corretean por
montañas de podredumbre) es un contenido de televisión de la mayor importancia
sociológica y, por tanto, sería una pena que las televisiones dejasen de ofrecer esta
basura real.
26. Hablenos un poco del juez Garzón. ¿Cómo lo retrata en este libro?
Enviado por: JIM
En el capítulo del libro se trata del juez Garzón como de una persona que, al margen de
sus disposiciones individuales (afán de protagonismo, frustraciones políticas…, en las
que yo no quiero entrar) ha ejercitado una serie de conductas que pueden ser
diagnosticadas precisamente como propias de alguien que padece un complejo de
Jesucristo, en su advocación, no de Cristo llagado, o de Cristo salvador, sino de Cristo
Juez que ha de venir a juzgar a los vivos y a los muertos, según la fórmula del Credo
romano.
27. ¿Qué aspectos supersticiosos o irracionales de la religiosidad cristiana
popular podría señalar desde su posición materialista?
Enviado por: Atia
No todo aspecto supersticioso es irracional, puesto que muchas supersticiones se
alimentan de un funcionalismo que puede ser considerado como perfectamente
racional. Convendría revisar también ese concepto de “religiosidad cristiana popular”. En
“Cuestiones cuodlibetales sobre Dios y la religión” o el “Dios salve la razón” puede usted
ver opiniones mías relacionadas con su pregunta.
28. Si los dioses del politeísmo son posibles al ser finitos y corpóreos, aunque
no existan, y el Dios monoteísta es imposible, por contradictorio, ¿por qué son
19/01/2010 Diariocrítico – chat con Gustavo Bueno
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mucho más irracionales las religiones secundarias que las terciarias según el
materialismo filosófico?
Enviado por: Ernesto
Porque la existencia no es el único criterio para definir la racionalidad.
29. Por mi propia experiencia puedo afirmar que el fundamentalismo
democrático no afecta a una parte del pueblo español (real, no metafísico)
que ni siquiera es capaz de responder a la pregunta de qué es la democracia.
En esta parte del pueblo (de la ciudadanía) sigue teniendo absoluta
preeminencia la capa basal. Creo que el fútbol tiene un papel básico en la
cuestión, que el fútbol español es en gran medida el que hace patente a
España, incluso por encima de la democracia. Por poner un ejemplo, la
importancia de un partido Madrid-Barcelona hace fuerza contra el
inedependentismo catalán (un Estado catalán independiente tendría como
equivalente un Barcelona-Lérida, por ejemplo). ¿Está usted de acuerdo con la
importancia de primera fila que tiene el fútbol en el mantenimiento de la idea
de España?
Enviado por: Victor Paton
Sin duda, el fútbol es una ceremonia que ha alcanzado la capacidad, por muchas
razones que aquí no es posible exponer, de servir de símbolo a los conflictos entre
diferentes partes de una sociedad política, o de diversas sociedades políticas.
30. Si el feto es ya un individuo, aunque no una persona,y la ética gira
entorno a la protección corpórea del individuo, ¿por qué razones el aborto no
sería un asesinato, es decir, un crimen horrendo merecedor de la eutanasia
procesal?
Enviado por: Horacio
Podría decirse que quien mantuviese esta conclusión sería consecuente, pero de un
modo más bien integrista.
31. A qué se refiere cuando habla del cierre categorial?
Enviado por: harris
El cierre categorial es una expresión formada por el término “cierre” (que procede de las
matemáticas: por ejemplo, entre otras cosas, la operación adición aplicada al campo de
los números naturales es cerrada porque la suma de dos números naturales da otro
número natural) y el término “categorial”, referido a la denominación de los campos de
las diferentes ciencias positivas (Aritmética, Física, Biología…). Con la expresión cierre
categorial de una ciencia quiere definirse la condición de esa ciencia como un proceso
que se desarrolla en el ámbito de una categoría a la que constituye; en cada ciencia ese
proceso cerrado se lleva a cabo mediante la identidad entre resultados de operaciones
en las que se manifiesta el concepto de verdad científica. Puede usted consultar
libremente en internet, por ejemplo, el opúsculo “¿Qué es la ciencia?”
http://www.helicon.es/pen/7848489.htm
32. Despedida
Enviado por: Diariocrítico
Agradezco a “Diario Crítico” que haya canalizado estas preguntas tan interesantes, según
aquello que se dice: Prudens quaestio dimidium est scientiae.
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notas sobre el cine: Robert Bresson

El cine , en tanto séptimo arte sobre todo, tiene un interés crucial para la actividad crítico filosófica. Este texto de Robert Bresson resulta en este sentido de gran interés para nuestro sitio introfilosofia ; ( no hemos podido encontrar una versión en español, por ahora )

Russel,Orwell,Chomsky Conferencia en el College de France

Interesante conferencia de Jacques Bouveresse en el Collège de France, en la que habla sobre racionalidad,verdad y democracia. Como referentes los filósofos Chomsky,Orwell y Russel. El video está en francés…
http://www.college-de-france.fr/default/EN/all/phi_lan/Colloque_du_28_mai_2010_Rat__2.jsp

sindicalismo vertical corrupto en la España de los socialfascistas


El pasado martes 8 de junio de 2010 convocaban varios sindicatos una huelga de funcionarios, que según el folleto que repartieron en los centros de educación secundaria , no mostraban ningún tipo de pliego petitorio ante algún hecho concreto de parte de la empresa, en este caso el Estado español, que fue quien a través de un decreto ley directamente concido desde el ejecutivo decretaba recortar el salrio a todos los funcionarios . Este modus operandi de las democracias en España ha venido siendo regla hace varios lustros con lo cual la democracia deja de parecerse a lo que se suponía que era desde las tesis expuestas por John Locke frente a la monarquía absoluta a fines del siglo XVII. Esta democracia de corte fundamentalista y demagógica donde las haya sólo sirven a la granbanca,nacional e internacional y a un mundo de financieros que se dedican a imponer sus reglas a los gobiernos de todo el mundo
DE cualquier modo , los funcionarios no han hehcho mucho caso de la convocatoria de los sindicatos que supuestamente representan- jurídicamente lo hacen- a los trabajadores. Estas fotos que pongo aquí son muestra de ese circo del día 8 de junio en una ciudad de provincia del Norte de España. Por cierto, no deja de resultar cuando menos curioso que en elPaís Vasco no haya habido prácticamente ni una sola muestra de descontento con las medidas tomadas en Madrid por el Gobierno de España. “Ellos- los vacos- tienen su propio sindicalismo”
A continuación el llamado Informe Petras que aun siendo ya de hace unos 15 años, sigue totalmente vigente en elpresente, con la aclaración de que en este momento España está siendo ya objetivo de tercermundialización por parte de los Estados imperiales de Europa y EEUU

comentario sobre Tarkovsky

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Senses of Cinema
Solaris
Solaris
Andrei Tarkovsky:
Truth Endorsed by Life
by Pedro Blas Gonzalez

Pedro Blas Gonzalez is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Barry University Miami Shores, Florida.

The Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset has referred to man as a “conscious cosmic phenomenon”. What he meant by this has everything to do with the fact that there is at least one cosmic entity that is capable of self-awareness in the universe. Ironically though, Ortega recognized that this reality remains the most transparent truth that man has failed to embrace. Throughout his collected work, Ortega argues that life and reason – that is, pure reason – are not compatible. What ought to matter most for man, he tells us, is the realm of the vital in human affairs. Vital reason, then, is the tool that is most appropriate for life.

Ortega’s work brings back to philosophy a grandeur and sobriety that is conspicuously absent in 20th century thought. The greatest task for the philosopher, Ortega argues – and he does this eloquently and convincingly – is to reflect on human existence without simultaneously robbing it of its lived vitality. Hence, he writes in The Dehumanization of Art, a book that was published in 1925:

Perception of ‘lived’ reality and perception of artistic form, as I have said before, are essentially incompatible because they call for a different adjustment of our perceptive apparatus. (1)
Solaris

As with Ortega y Gasset, the guiding force behind the cinematic and written works of the Russian cinéaste Andrei Tarkovsky (1932-1986) is a vision of man as a spiritual entity who is embraced by spatial-temporal objectification. Tarkovsky made seven full-length feature films, beginning in 1958. Even though I will mention his other films, the focus will be on Solyaris (Solaris, 1972) and Stalker (1979).

Solaris is considered a science-fiction film. Yet, this is a rather misleading understatement. To test this, we only have to look closely at the reaction of most science-fiction fans whose idea of this genre is based on the likes of Star Wars (George Lucas, 1977), Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979) and The Terminator (James Cameron, 1984). Such moviegoers react violently to any work that does not move along like a video game. We can say much more than this, but time is the genuine proof of any argument or intuition.

Solaris uses a fictional world in order to make sense of our own. The story essentially has to do with the power of memory – of the sacredness of the passage of time and how this dictates our past as well as the future. But, make no mistake about it, as Tarkovsky writes in his brilliant book, Sculpting in Time, Solaris is only by chance a science-fiction film. He explains:

Unfortunately the science fiction element in Solaris was nonetheless too prominent and became a distraction. The rockets and space stations – required by [Stanislaw] Lem’s novel – were interesting to construct; but it seems to me now that the idea of the film would have stood out more vividly and boldly had we managed to dispense with these things altogether. (2)

Tarkovsky was enthralled by Lem’s novel, Solaris. And, even though the film is based on it, Tarkovsky does not fully develop the science-fiction element of the book. Tarkovsky instead develops other themes, including love and the memories that are formed from this. Tarkovsky is clear and upfront about this point when he writes in Sculpting in Time:

I have to say at the outset that not all prose can be transferred to the screen.

Some works have a wholeness, and are endowed with a precise and original literary image; characters are drawn in unfathomable depths; the composition has an extraordinary capacity for enchantment, and the book is indivisible; […] (3)

The latter was a rather bitter point of contention for Lem after he viewed the finished film. Lem, though, has criticized most science fiction for its exaggerated plots and conventions.

The film opens with a shot of a gently flowing stream and Chris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis), the protagonist, looking at falling rain. He then walks around the back of a country house. Next, two men walk up to the house. They come to tell Chris that, “The Solaris crew is transmitting puzzling data.” Chris is to go out to the station and confirm whether this is true. If proven, the station will have to be shut down.

The impression that the scientists have is that those aboard the station are possibly suffering from fatigue of some kind. This is an optimistic account, because what is actually occurring on the Solaris station cannot be solved with additional science.
Solaris

After hearing of the strange events taking place on the station, Chris decides to stay out in the rain, as if he might never get to experience it again. Thus, from the start, Solaris conveys a strong feeling of isolation. This emotion is powerfully conveyed by Chris Kelvin in his country home long before we witness the same emotion on the Solaris station. In effect, Tarkovsky’s images and moods effectively depict a vital poetry of life that is rooted in daily reality. Dr. Kelvin, who is a psychologist by training, as we see later in the film, is mourning the death of his wife.

The documentary film that Chris is shown about what is happening on the Solaris station and the planet that it orbits is shot in a sepia tinge. The colour of the film resembles Tarkovsky’s other science-fiction film, Stalker. The brown look of the footage has a sense of unreality that Henri Burton (Vladislav Dvorzhetsky), the astronaut who filmed it, cannot truly reveal. For the first time, the viewer is offered the suggestion that the planet that the station orbits is intelligent. The question is then brought up: “Is it possible that Burton was affected by the vital force of the ocean, which is thought to be a gigantic brain, a substance capable of thought?”

The documentary film also shows a briefing of Burton that turned into a kind of hearing that attempts to confirm what he indeed witnessed. The tone of the briefing becomes condescending when a scientist argues that the “problem” lies in Burton and not with the planet. Some indication of Burton’s resistance to the overbearing scientific scrutiny that he is exposed to is felt in his comment to Chris that, “Knowledge is truthful only if it’s based in morality.” Chris rebuttals by saying, “Moral or immoral, it’s man who makes science.” The latter is an early indication of Dr. Kelvin’s training as a scientist. But as the film progresses his respect for scientific materialism begins to wane.

Not knowing if he will ever return, Chris proceeds to burn his papers before going into space. This is a powerful scene of anticipation and foreboding. The next scene shows Chris in space over Solaris. Once he enters the space station, Dr. Snaut (Jüri Järvet) tells Dr. Kelvin that one of the three men onboard has committed suicide after the “trouble” began.

The initial scenes after Chris arrives on the station create a surreal drama of expectation and resolution. At that point in the film, we are confronted with a new level of metaphysical phenomena – strange occurrences and uncomfortable situations that force us to make sense of our human condition.

Chris attempts to solve the enigma of the “personality disorders” that the others on the station are experiencing. Our initial thought, along with Chris, is that the desperation that those onboard suffer from is born of radical loneliness and disorientation that can only be solved by returning the astronauts to Earth. This is the scientific explanation that seems in order. But, as we witness later, science was the last thing on Tarkovsky’s mind at the time of filming Solaris. We are quickly reminded of Friedrich Nietzsche’s notion of whether we truly want to know ultimate truth. Tarkovsky adds:

… Solaris had been about people lost in the Cosmos and obliged, whether they liked it or not, to take one more step up the ladder of knowledge. Man’s unending quest for knowledge, given him gratuitously, is a source of great tension, for it brings with it constant anxiety, hardship, grief and disappointment as the final truth can never be known. (4)

The latter is one of the dominant themes of the film. This quote captures the essence of the many exchanges that take place between Chris, Dr. Snaut and Dr. Sartorius (Anatoli Solonitsyn). This theme is developed alongside of Chris’ internal struggle to understand his wife’s appearances. This is a key ingredient in Tarkovsky’s films because his characters are developed according to their own internal struggles and not through outward action. The major contribution of cinema according to Tarkovsky is to represent interior reality through a visual medium. He writes of

[…] that prerogative of film, which has to do with what distinguishes its impact on his consciousness from that of literature or philosophy: namely the opportunity to live through what is happening on the screen as if it were his own life, to take over, as deeply personal and his own, the experience imprinted in time upon the screen, relating his own life to what is being shown. (5)

When Chris enters the station and goes to the room of Dr. Gibarian (S. Sarkisyan), he encounters the problem that is afflicting those on the station through a video made by someone who has already committed suicide. Gibarian:

I have a little time and must tell you something and warn you. By now you know about me. If not, Sartorius or Snaut will tell you. What’s happened to me is not important. Or rather, it’s indescribable. I fear that this is just the beginning. I hate the idea but here it can probably happen to anyone. Only, don’t think I’ve lost my mind. You know me well. If I have time, I’ll tell you everything. If it happens to you, just know that it’s not madness […] That’s the main thing. As for further research, I lean towards Sartorius’ suggestion subjecting the ocean to radiation. That has been forbidden. But there’s no other way. We … you … will only get bogged down. Radiation may get us out of deadlock. It is the only way to deal with this monster. No other way. (6)
Solaris

After watching the video, Chris becomes baffled by Sartorius’ suicide and the latter’s contention that he is not insane. Chris walks around the space station disoriented, out of place, as if someone were hiding something from him. The fact that Gibarian mentions the lack of time to explain what has taken place in the station signals a threat of some kind. Second, he suggests that what is taking place is indescribable.

This seemingly epistemological breakdown is a fundamental theme of the film. But what is more significant still is the way in which Tarkovsky presents the question. If he presents the phenomenon that is taking place onboard the space station as being a mere paradigm change, then this will constitute yet another problem to be solved by science. Instead, Tarkovsky’s concern is in demonstrating that, if truth could reveal itself to man in its totality, it would undermine our present worldview.

Tarkovsky presents the viewer with the genuine possibility of entertaining a new notion of what we regard as understanding. His method is striking: we are not introduced to beings from another world who will enlighten us with some new truth. Tarkovsky does not care to entertain us with aliens and the fright that comes from another dimension. It is our relationship to ourselves, individually and spiritually, that Tarkovsky explores. What if, he seems to suggest, the understanding of human existence that we possess is not only limited but also lacking in some fundamental clarity? What seems to be at stake on the Solaris station is an imprinting of our memories in a universal, cosmic mind that we only realize exists when we arrive at that point in our development. Fanciful? Perhaps.

Tarkovsky’s motive for posing the question is to explore whether we merely live metaphysically on what can be considered the surface plane of human existence. His concern is not with scientific exploration but with the non-rational.

Another theme of the film is the importance of memories in our lives. Can we live without them? What about constantly having to relive our worst tragedies? Can we be selective? Tarkovsky’s answer to this question is expressed when his wife, Hari (Natalya Bondarchuk), dies again on the space station and Chris is forced to experience loss once again.

As Chris walks around the station, he looks out onto the pulsating sea of the planet that Solaris orbits. He sees a woman walking past him. He follows her. Chris immediately comes to understand the indescribable anomaly that Gibarian mentioned in his video. The woman is Hari. His understanding is verified by Snaut after Chris tells him, “I know you’re not insane.” Snaut replies, “Insane! Good God. Insane! That would be relief!” The truth that is too much to bear becomes a living hell for all onboard the station.

Chris sees Hari again when he wakes up to find a young woman sitting on a chair facing him. She comes and kisses him. When Chris asks her where she came from, she just says. “How wonderful.” And, after Chris asks her how she knew that he was there, she becomes confused and asks, “What do you mean?”
Solaris

Chris puts Hari on a rocket and launches her into space. In this regard, Chris is both reacting to what he considers a hallucination on his part and creating closure of the past. The decisive moment in this sequence takes place when Snaut reveals to Chris: “It’s the materialization of your memory of her.” Snaut explains that the problems began when “we finished the experiment of beaming x-rays down at the ocean’s surface. Apparently the x-rays enabled the ocean to explore all the little islands of our memory.”

Dr. Sartorius, too, offers a scientific answer to what they experience as a metaphysical conundrum. Sartorius figures that the hallucinations “consist of neutrinos and not atoms like everywhere else”. He explains that neutrino systems are supposed to be unstable, but Solaris’ force field stabilizes them. This scientific explanation sounds valid. After all, they are all trained as scientists and, when faced with questions of an unclear nature, the best route to take is the simplest. This may very well turn out to be the case: a scientific explanation that would decode further aspects of our superficial understanding. But this only remains a viable option as one possibility amongst many.

However, even if the above-mentioned remains true, Tarkovsky is nonetheless concerned with the question of how we experience reality, and not so much as to what it is. Regardless of the possible explanations that Chris entertains onboard, he nevertheless feels the emotions brought about by these radical experiences. A point in question in the film is the relationship that exists between my true “internal” memories and the hallucinatory, external ones experiences on the station. The touching interlude where Chris plays a home movie of himself as a boy walking in the snow juxtaposes the two. The memories that the home movie evokes are true memories. But the same cannot be said of the hallucinatory memories, as he literally relives them. While memories cannot exist of their own accord, they trigger a return to a real space and time.

This is easily evidenced when Hari cannot remember or make sense of her self, or her past, because she does not exist for herself, but only for Chris. When she makes any headway whatsoever in this regard, she does so as a negation of herself. In fact, Hari comes to the realization that she is not the real Hari because Hari was poisoned. She begins to see herself as a memory. Of course, this opens up a complexity of questions that remind us of Jean-Paul Sartre’s pour-soi and en-soi, and René Descartes’ “cogito ergo sum”. Something of this can also be seen with the replicants in Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982).

Chris initiates a conversation with Hari that may be interpreted as really being a conversation with himself: that is, with his memories. Hari presses him to tell her what or who she really is. Hari is desperate to find the ontological basis to establish her own existence. She wants to know why the real Hari poisoned herself. Chris replies, “I suppose she felt that I didn’t really love her.”

Perhaps a great deal of the film can be understood from the conversation that takes place in the library. Some critics who perhaps have not understood Tarkovsky’s vision of cinema complain that his films are too dominated by conversation. Yet conversation in Tarkovsky’s films is essential to a broadening of his overall effect of visual storytelling. Tarkovsky writes in Sculpting in Time:

Pictures, visual images, are far better to achieve that end than any words, particularly now, when the world has lost all mystery and magic and speech has become mere chatter, empty of meaning […] (7)

The essential quality or pathos of his films has to do with what amounts to man’s capacity for feeling, and not with intellect. This is a central question in studying his work because some people are under the impression that his films are “intellectual” in nature. This is not exactly true. A close and sincere look at Tarkovsky’s work demonstrates that the idle talk of some of his characters is always juxtaposed with a subtle but profound silence that refutes all forms of over-intellectualization. Now, this does not mean that Tarkovsky cannot employ dialogue that establishes this kind of atmosphere. A significant scene has Chris and Hari reading a passage from one of Miguel de Cervantes’ works:

“I only know Señor, that while I am sleeping I have neither fear nor hope, nor delight, nor glory. Sleep makes the shepherd equal to the king. It has only one fault … it looks like death.”

After this, Sartorius offers a toast to science and Snaut, as if to curtail the effect of the reading of the text. But Snaut does not share in his respect for science. He says:

“Science? Nonsense! In this situation, mediocrity and genius are equally helpless. We don’t want to conquer space at all. We want to expand Earth endlessly. We don’t want other worlds; we want a mirror. We seek contact and will never achieve it. We are in the foolish position of a man striving for a goal he fears and doesn’t want. Man needs man!”

Hari enlightens the scientists by telling them that the “guests”, as they are called, are nothing more than their conscience. “They are yourselves”, she tells them.

Solaris has a surreal quality that is reflective of a true understanding of man as an interior being who lives outwardly on borrowed time. It is interesting to speculate on the nature of a reality that all of a sudden projects our memories into the external world as materializations for all to speculate. Today, in this digital, cyber age, we find ourselves debating the nature of intellectual ownership, as if a hyper public reality places man’s internal character up for review. What effect would a reality such as that on the Solaris station have on man, if all of our memories were to become public property? What greater claims would the public sphere have over our lives in such a world? Isn’t it enough that we give the world a portion of ourselves through our actions, works of art, conversations, emotions, writing and good will, for instance?

It seems that, on a private level, a scenario such as that which takes place on the space station would be welcomed. In such a reality, we would “revisit” our lives, as it were, and perhaps we would gather the strength and understanding necessary to comprehend that which is fleeting – all that has dissipated in the rush of our lived immediacy.
“Hunters in the Snow”

Of course, this would also suggest a new phenomenological reduction, whereby we would also be taking time out to reflect or “relive” our past to the detriment of our present. In such a reality, we would still manage to neglect our present. There is a sense in which this form of reality might actually harbour a sheer state of hell for us. Some might even become addicted to their past more so than their present condition. This surreal, Unamunian sense of life is invoked in the scene of Pieter Bruegel’s painting “Hunters in the Snow”. That scene is reflective of how the people and places in the painting are only real to us in the same degree as we are real to Solaris’ overseeing ocean.

Hari, too, begins to have memories. She has a memory of herself in the snow.

Tarkovsky brings those on the station back to their present state of being through periodical 30 seconds of weightlessness that the station experiences. This oscillation between what is real and what is merely a memory creates a timeless, emotional buoyancy in the lives of those onboard. This only works to compound our phenomenological commentary on the film.

Eventually, Chris is moved by what he feels for Hari and how his sensations are “real” regardless of their illusory nature. He contemplates staying on the space station in order to not let go of his memories – of her. He believes that in doing so he will find a new longevity for the reality that he values most: his love for Hari. But, as we see take place at the end of the film, the sanctity of his love for Hari will be kept alive through his real-life memories.

Chris believes that we only love what we can lose. He says: “Maybe the very purpose of our existence is to perceive mankind as the reason for love. Shame! That’s what will save mankind.” This same point is effectively developed by Rantes (Hugo Soto), the mysterious and spiritually gifted protagonist of Hombre mirando al Sudeste (Man Facing Southeast, Eliseo Subiela, 1986). In that film, Rantes, who shows up in an asylum, tells the head physiatrist that he does not understand how humans can bury their dead so easily. Rantes’ point is that he can’t let go of his loved ones.
Solaris

But staying on the station, as we have already seen, does not come without a heavy price. Chris values the fact that he can be with Hari more than he fears witnessing her death over again. Chris asks, “Snaut, why does he [the ocean] torture us?” Dr. Snaut answers: “We’ve lost our sense of the cosmic.” Tarkovsky’s suggestion seems to be that, at least for those involved in the Solaris project, a sense of the cosmic returned only under dire and abnormal conditions. Thus the cosmic, as Ortega too tells us, is a holistic understanding of our pressing need to transcend or become fully cognizant of our translucent immediacy. What makes this reality so surreal, as I have previously said, is that often what is most translucent – that is, what is closest to us – is also what we neglect the most.

Snaut counters Chris’ longing for understanding with the notion that we only ask ultimate questions when we are unhappy. He tells Chris, as if to play devil’s advocate: “When a man is happy, the meaning of life and other eternal questions don’t interest him. Those are questions to be asked at life’s end.”

Snaut’s comment can be interpreted in several ways. He might not be as aware of the passage of time as Chris or he simply is afraid to confront such questions. Chris counters by telling him: “We don’t know when the end will come, so we hurry.” But Snaut is not ready to drop the point and tells Chris: “The happiest are those who never ask these damned questions.” Again, Dr. Snaut seems to be irritated by such questions.

Chris’ rebuttal is essentially the main point of the film: “Questioning means a desire to know. But to preserve basic truth, we need mysteries. The mysteries of happiness … death … love.” The importance of these few lines of dialogue cannot be overlooked. Many times throughout the film, the subject of exploration and knowledge comes up as a central focus of the lives of those involved in the project. Back in Chris’ home, at the start of the film, this seemed to be the main plot vehicle. There, when they are watching the documentary footage of the conference, the viewer quickly gets the impression that Chris will join the others on the station to solve a scientific problem. This is, after all, what scientist do and what most viewers expect of this genre. But Solaris is not a typical science-fiction film. It will frustrate the viewer who expects high-flying special events, alien beings and exploration of a merely physical nature.

Tarkovsky’ point in the above-mentioned dialogue is not to come across as a sceptic or critic of science. When he says that knowledge safeguards a sense of mystery, he is suggesting a Socratic notion that to know is to know what cannot be known. This can be taken to mean two things: either we can know all things, eventually, or we can know all things at once. Obviously the latter point is not the case. This leaves us then only with the possibility that we can arrive at an immensity of future knowledge. Thus, Tarkovsky brings us back to his original point: the eventuality of knowledge is contingent on our desire to know, but the desire to know can only arise due to our recognition of ignorance.

Tarkovsky’s contention is that in this desire to know we must be willing to accept that, during any given period in man’s history, our ignorance has always been greater than the immediate scope of our knowledge.

When Chris sees Hari on first arriving on the station, he becomes confused. This confusion leads to a sense of disorientation, one that keeps him guessing whether Hari is even real. As he becomes more attached to her materialization, his emotions take hold of him. Naturally, he finds her presence to be a gift of some kind. But, after his mission ends and he understands that perhaps it is Solaris’ ocean causing the apparitions, he decides to return to Earth. His decision is based on the understanding that his memories of Hari are real as long as he feels them and not when they are the effect of a cosmic mind. Chris’ decision to return to Earth will be a sacrifice in the sense that he can easily remain on the station and use the ocean as a form of projector where memories are conveyed in three dimensions. The ocean serves Tarkovsky much the same way that the murti-bing pill serves Stanislaw Ignacy Witkiewicz in his novel Insatiability: as a narcotic that assuages the passage of time and the heaviness of human existence. (8)
Solaris

Thus, the film ends as it starts, with scenes of flowing water and Chris walking around the woods by his father’s house. But his return home is more than just a physical return. In visiting the space station, Chris discovered a sense of cosmic mystery that he must retain in his worldly existence. This is the strongest suggestion that Tarkovsky makes at the end of the film. The water that surrounds his father’s house is not only a symbol of nature, but also what is vital in human existence. At the end, we come to a full understanding of Tarkovsky’s juxtaposing of the vital and immediate with the cold and overly intellectual. Solaris’ ocean signifies a realm of pure thought, pure consciousness. By the end, we are made to see how such a one-dimensional aspect of human existence necessitates an infusion of the concrete and vital. The greatest irony in the film is that Tarkovsky makes use of what some have criticized as a too cerebral form of filmmaking to emphasis vital life. (9)
Stalker

Like Solaris, Stalker is also a science-fiction film that breaks with the traditional themes of the genre.

Stalker begins with a quote from an interview that a professor Wallace, a Nobel Prize winner, had given the RAI press. It reads:

What was it? A meteorite that fell to Earth? Or a visitation from outer space? Whatever it was, there appeared in our small land a miracle of miracles: the ZONE. We sent in troops, none returned. Then we surrounded the ZONE with police cordons. We did right … although ugh I’m not sure […] (10)

What is most important about the quote is that a scientist should use the word miracle in describing aspects of the physical world. Also, the word itself depicts a zone of mystery that goes beyond the physical devastation, as was, for instance, the Tunguska, Siberia, event of 1908. But the ZONE is equally dangerous. As Stalker (Aleksandr Kaidanovsky) lies in bed with his wife (Alisa Frejndlikh) and young daughter (Natasha Abramova) in a grungy room, the room begins to shake due to a passing train. This is a sign that they live in an industrial area. He then gets up and goes to the kitchen in what is essentially a barren home. His wife follows him and asks a series of questions: “Why did you take my watch?” “Where are you going?” She is concerned that he will be killed going back to the ZONE. She tells him:

“You promised me … I believed you. If you don’t want to think about yourself, what about us? Think about your child. She’s not even used to you yet and you’re back to your old ways.”

She doesn’t want him to return to the ZONE because he has already served five years in prison for taking people there.

Ironically, Stalker’s Wife is concerned with the danger that he will encounter from the state authorities that have closed off the area. He, on the other hand, is concerned with the danger that the enchantment that is contained in the ZONE possess for man. Stalker essentially treats the ZONE as fertile moral ground for the initiated. When he takes people there, they are instructed to respect its internal principles. What is important here as well is that the ZONE demands a level of spiritual engagement from those who enter it that is uncommon. Tarkovsky’s stalker is a kind of Prometheus that disperses cosmic secrets to man. Yet, unlike Prometheus, he understands the inherent dangers of the knowledge that the ZONE dispenses. His fundamental problem, then, is that he cannot guarantee the moral and spiritual integrity of those who enter with him.
Stalker

Stalker meets two people that he is to take into the ZONE in a small and rundown café. Unnamed in the film, they usually go by the simple description of Writer (Anatoli Solonitsyn), and Professor (Nilolai Grinko). As Stalker approaches Writer, who is talking to the woman who is dropping him off, he hears Writer utter the following words to her:

“The world is governed by cast-iron laws, and that is terribly boring. And don’t know how to be broken. It was interesting to live in the Middle Ages; each house had a goblin, each church had a God.”

Writer tells Professor that he is going into the ZONE because “I’ve lost my inspiration. I’m going to beg for some.”

The little physical action that occurs in the film takes places in the opening sequences. Driving through the entrance to the ZONE, where armed guards are posted, is the epitome of action in Stalker. Physical danger does not concern Stalker in the least. In fact, driving Professor’s jeep up to the gate where the ZONE begins seems a rather mundane exercise for him. As they drive through the entrance, they are shot at, but they are not followed in. Once inside the ZONE, they then ride a railroad handcar closer to the centre.

When this episode comes to an end, the film takes on a sense of calmness that continues until the end. This is also evident in that the film becomes coloured, while up to that point it was sepia. This is the point where the science-fiction fans who have come to expect incessant physical action become dislodged from their expectations.

Stalker was taught everything he knows about the ZONE from a man who is referred to as Porcupine and who brought people there for many years. This conversation about Porcupine is important; as the viewer learns that Stalker was imprisoned several times for stalking, we come to an understanding of what Stalker does and why. Who, then, is Stalker stalking? Clearly, he stalks no one. Why, then, do the authorities make it illegal for anyone to go to the ZONE? After the meteorite hit the village and burned it down twenty years earlier, stories began to circulate that the centre of the ZONE granted wishes. The problem began, Stalker tells us, when the ZONE was “guarded by barbed wire, for who knows what wishes a person might have”. If Stalker does not stalk anyone, as we understand the word, then what he stalks must be the possibility of truth. This would explain both the government restrictions as well as his reticence to take just anyone there for fear of what they may find. Perhaps the great symbolism of the film has to do with the notion that, in order to arrive at the centre, they must not go straight ahead – the shortest path always being the most dangerous.

When Writer takes off, walking on his own, he makes Stalker nervous because he fears that he too will become affected by the irrationality of writers. Stalker cautions: “The ZONE’s a maze of traps. All of them death traps.” The indication here has to do with an allegory of life itself where “that which has become hard shall not triumph.” Another example of this same symbolism is seen when Stalker lies down to rest and hears a voice tell him a story of how man can destroy himself by intemperance.

Stalker, much like Solaris, contains a great many scenes of water. Water in Tarkovsky’s films serves both as a form of purity and also renewal. In one scene, they enter a tunnel and finally come out in another strange room that is filled with water; this signals a rite of passage for those who have completed the trek. At this point, Writer delivers an unforgettable confession to anyone that is willing to listen:

“But what’s the use of your knowledge? Whose conscience will be bothered by it? Mine? I have no conscience. Only nerves. Some rat will pain me; it leaves a wound. Another rat will praise me: it leaves another wound. You put your soul into it, your heart into. They’ll devour your heart and your soul. Remove filth from your soul: they’ll devour filth. Why, they are all literate! They suffer of sensory hunger. They keep crowding around: the editors, the critics, the endless dames. All of them clamoring for more! More! What kind of writer am I if I detest writing! If it’s torture, a painful, shameful occupation, something akin to extruding pities.”

This is a significant conversation because it signifies Tarkovsky’s critique of the coldness of intellectualizing over vital emotions. What Writer is describing is an impersonal world where no one can retain the right to his or her personal vision. The problem with the “wishing well” at the centre of the ZONE is that our wishes come to mean nothing when devoid of our sweat and will. The import of Tarkovsky’s point concerning human vision is to suggest that, “The most sincere one is always the one that is reached through suffering.” Writer:

“I used to think that my books helped some to become better. Why, nobody needs me! I’ll croak and in two days they’ll be devouring somebody else. I had hoped to change them, but they changed me! To fit their own image! Once, the future was only a combination of the present. Its changes loomed beyond the horizon. But now the future’s a part of the present. Are they prepared for this? They don’t want to know anything, all they do is gabble!”
Stalker

Stalker, besides being visually stunning, has a quality about it that offers an objectification of the truth contained in axioms. Tarkovsky has achieved with cinema what Plato accomplished in philosophical discourse utilizing the dialogue form. Tarkovsky is adamant about not giving away the meaning of his films. Yet some critics view his films as being too slow and employing too much dialogue. But what is actually the case has more to do with vital emotions than with dialogue. Tarkovsky’s films are grounded in a particular mood that carries the plot to fruition. What appears to be a diatribe against editors and readers in Writer’s commentary actually turns out to be a heartfelt look at the anatomy of disillusionment. Writer’s disparaging comments on the nature of writing come as the result of placing a great degree of faith in the written word. His disappointment is metaphysical in quality. Because we know very little about what constitutes his life, besides writing, we come to view his statements as raw, universal examples of life itself. Granted, the life that we have before us in the persona of Writer is but one example. His level of disenchantment remains universal in the same measure that axioms achieve their desired goal: he speaks about principles and not particular oddities. He has the following to say about the wishing-room at the centre of the ZONE:

“But world supremacy? A just society? These aren’t wishes, but an ideology, action, concepts. Subconscious compassion cannot yet be realized as a common, instructive wish.”

Writer’s verbalizing of his knowledge is indicative of Tarkovsky’s regard for the dichotomous rift that he sees as being central to human reality. The problem essentially has to do with the attainment and subsequent objectification of knowledge. While Writer undergoes an internal dialectical settling concerning some of the truths inherent in human reality, he merely guides his actions with his understanding. The problem does not really begin to take place until he attempts to make his life findings known. Stalker’s conversation with Writer finds the latter man at a crossroad in his life. Writer comes on the trip in an attempt to reconcile himself with a vital existence – one that he has lost due to his cynicism. Yet his attempt is sabotaged by the precise thing that he is trying to run away from: himself. He makes no progress as a consequence.

Writer and Professor are essentially materialists out on an experiment. Professor, too, has a past that he wants “cleared”. His motivation for going to the ZONE has to do with a vendetta. Stalker’s concern for the type of people that he takes to the ZONE has to do with the fact that the ZONE is a kind of Pandora’s Box where evil, as well as good, can be realized. Stalker’s notion of human life is summarized as possessing a correlation with man’s existence where we “see” and “feel” what we are capable of and no more. He tells the others:

“Music: If it has anything at all to do with life its mechanical, lacking ideas or associations. But it goes right to your soul. What chord in us responds to its harmonies? What gives us such pleasure, and unites us, and stirs us so? […] In the long run, everything has a meaning and a season.”

After their return from the ZONE, Stalker is seen as being the one who has suffered the most. While the other two appear to be merely entertained by the experiment, it is Stalker who returns home to his wife disenchanted. His disillusionment originates in his belief that he could actually improve the circumstances of the other two men. Stalker resembles Ortega’s notion of belief as a vital form of life that negates artificiality and over-intellectualizing. Stalker fashions arguments not to debunk the over-intellectualizing of Writer and Professor, but because he lives out his emotions and is guided by them. Is Tarkovsky attempting to exploit a dichotomy in human existence between the intellect and our emotions? When Stalker returns home, he talks to his wife in a manner that we have not seen from him previously. He is clearly shocked by the world of the men that he has come into contact with. He tells her:

“Some intellectuals, those writers and scientists. They don’t believe in anything! They’ve lost their sense of hope! My God! What kind of people are they?”
Stalker

This is why his return home is essentially the culmination of the story. If Tarkovsky had ended the film in the ZONE, the film would have remained a tale of adventure and self-discovery. Stalker’s paralyzing disenchantment after he returns home allows the story to develop into more than just the fulfilment of three people. This rounding effect to the film is best understood when Stalker’s wife tells him: “It’s not their fault. They should be pitied.” Her allusions have everything to do with the split between life and the intellect that so aptly defines modern life. (11)

Stalker, still reeling from his shock at the emptiness of the men that he has just spent time with, adds:

“But their eyes are black! They keep worrying about getting their full share. Getting paid for every breath they take! They know they weren’t born for nothing. Can their kind believe in anything? Nobody believes. It’s not just these two. But the worst of it is that nobody needs this. Nobody needs the room.”

Once he returns to the simplicity of his room, his wife, and his handicapped young daughter, he puts into perspective the clash of his world with that of the seemingly more worldly and sophisticated intellectuals. What keeps Stalker anchored to reality is his web of core beliefs. At the end of the film, we come to realize that the room at the centre of the ZONE confronts all who go there with a moment of truth when they must make sense of reality based on their beliefs and convictions. This confrontation has to do with the limits of the knowable, and what this means in our own existence, and not necessarily with knowledge itself. Perhaps even more important is a reflection on the transformative and cathartic power of what we do know. The latter has to do with what Ortega means when he describes man as a conscious cosmic phenomenon.

These points are evidenced throughout Tarkovsky’s films, but they are made explicitly clear in his notion of æsthetics in Sculpting in Time. Of course, the films are enjoyed on their own merits. Whatever impression his films make on us will be sanctioned by his ability as a film director. It would be simplistic to assume that the book does not entice us into a greater understanding of the man’s vision and his chosen vehicle to accomplish this. Tarkovsky’s cinematic vision transcends his films. His vision is made manifest in the degree of clarity of his spiritual embracing of reality. In other words, Tarkovsky’s sense of reality is brilliantly transformed into a visual collage, while his overarching æsthetic sense is mediated through his book, Sculpting in Time.

Endnotes

1. José Ortega y Gasset, The Dehumanization of Art (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1972), p. 25.
2. Andrei Tarkovsky, translated by Kitty Hunter-Blair, Sculpting in Time (Austin: University of Texas, 1986), p. 199.
3. Ibid, p. 15.
4. Ibid, p. 198.
5. Ibid, p. 183.
6. Andrei Tarkovsky, Solaris (New York: Fox Lorber Home Video, 1991).
7. Sculpting in Time, pp. 228-9.
8. Stanislaw Ignacy Witkiewicz, Insatiability. Witkiewicz’s novel is perhaps the greatest example of the brave new world that man seeks, like small children whose sole responsibility is to play in make-believe worlds. His narrator says: “That they were living, thinking, sentient creatures seems indisputable, whereas the existence of inorganic matter, of the sort physics would like to posit on the basis of data derived from its own mundane vision of the world, would seem highly problematic, unless one assumes the existence of a mundane dualism, a mundane ‘pre-conceived order,’ and that people have altogether ceased to think in a mundane way – so there! The ‘collapsing’ of time was unendurable. Life teetered on an arête like a seesaw. On one side were sunny valleys of normality and great numbers of cosy little retreats; on the other loomed the murky gorges and chasm of madness, smoking with thick gases and glowing with molten lava – valle inferno, kingdom of eternal remorse and unbearable guilt.” (p. 400).
9. In Sculpting in Time, Tarkovsky develops a spiritual æsthetics that cannot be separated from man’s vital responsibility for his own existence. He writes, “I am convinced that any attempt to restore harmony in the world can only rest on the renewal of personal responsibility.” (p. 235).
10. Andrei Tarkovsky, Stalker (New York: Fox Lorber Home Video, 1993).
11. Allusions to this dualism are in evidence throughout Sculpting in Time.

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