Friday, September 26, 2014

Death Vs. Dying

It would be absurd to say that people do not wonder about death. We show curiosity toward it every day, even if we’re not directly aware of it. Death is the largest existing concept dealing with the unknown, so it only makes sense why it crosses our minds so often. But there is an important question to be asked here. Are we truly oh-so-curious about death itself, or is it the process of dying that begs for our attention?
When we flip through the newspaper, or, more likely in this day and age, stumble across news on or electronic devices, we often come across articles covering the topic of death. There are feature stories, crime updates, the obituaries section, and many more random snippets of our chosen publication that discuss some sort of death-related theme. It’s how we react to different kinds of media-related death references, though, that reveals a great amount about human nature.

 Take the obituaries section as an example. Most obituaries do not specify the cause of death, unless it is a special case or is already widely known throughout the community. We’ll read the short piece, learning about this particular person’s family, hobbies, character, and even the time and place of passing, but we’ll inevitably be left with the question: how did he/she die? We’ll ask ourselves this question whether we are aware of it or not and if we like it or not. Since we are not presented with a clue as to how this individual left the physical world, there is nothing that draws us in to the story of this stranger. What’s missing is the allusion to the process of dying, something that captivates us and feeds our curiosity toward the unknown.

 Although it may seem dark, imagine a story about a woman who was brutally murdered, such as the recent news of former Oak Park resident Sheila Von Wiese Mack’s beating death, filling the headlines of your local newspaper. “Beaten,” “strangled,” “stabbed,” “left in a ditch,” even “stuffed in a suitcase:” it’s hard to admit that these phrases don’t capture our attention. We’ll leave the story remembering the details of the gruesome murder for a long time, while we most likely will not remember the favorite professional golfer of the elderly man whose obituary said that he died “peacefully, surrounded by family and friends” at 7:13 p.m. last Wednesday.

 The point is, we like to get an image of the process of dying, and, once obtained, that image sticks with us longer than a casual mention of death does, and thus, death and dying are two very different concepts. The Stranger by Albert Camus makes this differentiation clear. Mersault, the protagonist and narrator, shows virtually no emotion regarding his own mother’s death, disregarding details of her passing, neglecting opening the casket to see her body, and passively participating in her memorial service. The lack of details and descriptive scenes in this part of the story lends to a lack of interest in the mother’s death on both Mersault’s part and the readers’ parts. However, in another part of the story, Mersault shoots a man referred to as “The Arab,” and the description of the killing includes more vivid imagery and complex language than the part about his mother’s death does. The clear description of the details surrounding the murder of the Arab show more interest in the death on, again, both Mersault’s part and the readers’ parts. Thus, we can see a clear difference between the notions of “death” and “dying.”

 It may seem a bit dark to argue that we like to learn gory details of death, but these details stick with us to a greater extent than just casual mentions of death itself do. This point lends itself to a greater discussion about human nature and our unconscious drives and interests in the process of dying.

No comments:

Post a Comment