What makes the sun shine?
One of my all-time favorite passages is from Sir Terry Pratchett's book Hogfather. The book tells the story of how the Hogfather — the Santa Claus figure of the Discworld — is destroyed and then saved. The story's theme, I feel, centers around the issue of the human conception of the universe and how we make sense of it.
The passage I'm talking about is a dialogue that happens around the end of the book between Death and Susan — the protagonist, who is also Death's granddaughter — discussing what would've happened if Susan hadn't been able to save the Hogfather.
“Thank you. Now…tell me…”
WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HADN’T SAVED HIM?
“Yes! The sun would have risen just the same, yes?”
NO.
“Oh, come on. You can’t expect me to believe that. It’s an astronomical fact.”
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
She turned on him. “It’s been a long night, Grandfather! I’m tired and I need a bath! I don’t need silliness!”
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
“Really? Then what would have happened, pray?”
A MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS WOULD HAVE ILLUMINATED THE WORLD.
They walked in silence for a moment.
“Ah,” said Susan dully. “Trickery with words. I would have thought you’d have been more literal-minded than that.”
I AM NOTHING IF NOT LITERAL-MINDED. TRICKERY WITH WORDS IS WHERE HUMANS LIVE.
“All right,” said Susan. “I’m not stupid. You’re saying humans need…fantasies to make life bearable.”
REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.
It gives me the chills every time I read it, even after all this time. It does such a good job at capturing the core of the human experience. As humans we don't ever really see the world directly, we see the stories we tell ourselves about it, and we can end up telling ourselves all sort of negative stories about how things work.
This extra layer that we put on top of reality is sort of like a lens that tinges everything we see. This lens' color and shape is dictated by the stories we tell ourselves and the combination of these is unique to each one of us.
However, this same capability is also what enables us to be human: to create, express ourselves through art, connect with other humans, to imagine a better tomorrow. This is perfectly captured in this next passage, which follows shortly after the one above.
STARS EXPLODE, WORLDS COLLIDE, THERE’S HARDLY ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE WHERE HUMANS CAN LIVE WITHOUT BEING FROZEN OR FRIED, AND YET YOU BELIEVE THAT A…A BED IS A NORMAL THING. IT IS THE MOST AMAZING TALENT.
“Talent?”
OH, YES. A VERY SPECIAL KIND OF STUPIDITY. YOU THINK THE WHOLE UNIVERSE IS INSIDE YOUR HEADS.
“You make us sound mad,” said Susan.
NO. YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN’T TRUE. HOW ELSE CAN THEY BECOME?
(Terry Pratchett was truly a genius / philosopher / poet able to express the deepest truths about the human experience in such simple words that they just seem obvious.)
I love how Death, with his omnipresent point of view, has knowledge of the whole cosmos and is baffled by what humans consider normal (in this case, a bed). But in reality these things are all but normal. This specific part always makes me chuckle, and also appreciate how many things we take for granted that are actually truly miraculous.
As humans WE NEED these stories to make sense of the world, a human mind just couldn't work without them. I see it in my own mind: all these preconceptions, ideas, behaviors I force myself to align with (even if I don't like them), all the things I consider to be me.
These stories are also what allow us to perceive magic (good or bad) in the world. Its roots borrow deep into them, and grows forward, bearing fruit into our reality. This is what makes a sunset beautiful, or gives us the sense of awe at seeing a perfect snowflake falling during a windless winter day. A being incapable of perceiving it would just see a "MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS".
The final idea is that creativity is equal parts imagination and hope: imagination allows us to imagine (duh) an alternative, but it is hope that gives it energy and movement, the drive to find said alternative. Hope that an alternative is even possible to begin with.
I might be getting a bit off track but I can't resist sharing another great quote (also by Terry Pratchett, this time from Witches Abroad). I won't comment on it directly but I think it is relevant enough to be included.
People think that stories are shaped by people. In fact, it's the other way around.
Stories exist independently of their players. If you know that, the knowledge is power.
Stories, great flapping ribbons of shaped space-time, have been blowing and uncoiling around the universe since the beginning of time. And they have evolved. The weakest have died and the strongest have survived and they have grown fat on the retelling.
Stories are a powerful thing. Be mindful of the stories you consume (and more importantly how you consume them), and what you tell yourself. I think we frequently underestimate the effect they can have in our lives.
While writing this post I'm realizing that I could incorporate some of these things into my own life.
- Everything — especially the negative things — I believe about myself are stories I accept as true and identify with. But they are not truths set in stone.
- The flip side of the point above: If I can imagine a better version of myself then I can make it a reality with dedication. It's often I perceive things within myself that I would like to be otherwise, and always end up accepting them as facts.
Thanks for reading 🍃 take care!
And to answer this post's title: You make the sun shine, and — conversely — you also make the darkness terrifying.