Monday 17 February 2003

Pic of the day: I'm nearing the end of my pictures from the anime Hikaru no Go. Here we see in cyberspace, the child Hikaru transforming into the ancient spirit Fujiwara no Sai, the world's greatest Go player.

Borderline humans

Frequent readers will have noticed lately my interest in the animated TV series "Hikaru no Go", about a Japanese boy and a ghost playing the old board game Go. But there are parts of the series I love in particular. There is the beginning, which is very original, with the introduction of the ghost. It is, what can I say, haunting? The lost soul's love for the game pulls him back into the world once again. I can sympathize with that, although I sincerely hope it won't happen to me.

But the part I liked the best was perhaps the episodes where Hikaru became an Insei, a full-time student of Go. At the beginning, he did not even know how to take notes of a game, he only knew how to play Go ... and even that only at the level of the very weakest of his fellow Insei. Over the next months, he learned from both his wins and his losses, overcame an obstacle in his own soul, and came out near the top.

It is true that this reminds me of my own time at high school. I came from the outskirts of a remote village in another part of the country, all alone, knowing no one and with only vague ideas about what to expect. (Only one of my brothers had gone to high school, and he had moved out and had little contact with home during the time.) I was young for my class, immature for my age, and with mixed experiences about school. Yet during my high school years I experienced this dramatic transformation of my soul. A scary time but ultimately rewarding. As a side effect of the changes within me, I also became one of the best students toward the end. But unlike our hero Hikaru, I did not do all this in one year.

***

Yet it is not the direct parallel to my own life that fascinates me. The fictional character Hikaru far exceeds my own abilities (as do some people in real life too). It is the basic nature of the thing. The transition from the ordinary to the extraordinary. From a common human to an uncommon human ... and possibly something more, though that may happen only in fiction and religion.

I know I have told at least once about how I loved Byrne's reboot of Superman, the first issues where the young Clark Kent gradually became aware of his extraordinary powers. (Unlike the silver age Superman, Clark was no Superbaby or Superboy. His abilities only manifested gradually after several years under a yellow sun. Byrne probably saw his powers as psionic, as do I. Byrne's work on Gladiator in the Marvel universe is so close to his Superman work that it must have been intended to make a statement.) Anyway, only when he accidentally starts to fly instead of falling off a cliff, does he realize that he is somehow different. He still tries to hide it, until the fateful day when a plane comes out of control above the city. We see an aerial shot of the crowd, everyone looking upward with wide eyes. Only Clark's expression is subtly different. He is not afraid of being crushed under a falling plane, but of losing his humanity by using his superpowers in public.

(I understand that there is a TV series these days, "Smallville", with a somewhat similar angle. Clark Kent is not superman, just a super young man. And he cannot let anyone know. I haven't seen the TV show since I don't have a TV, but I'm sure it will sooner or later become available in digital form if it is really good.)

Hikaru has a bit of the same problem: The ghost of the world's strongest Go player is so different from himself that whenever he lets him play, people take notice and rumors spread all over the land and eventually around the world. He is afraid that Hikaru will be forgotten and only Sai (the spirit) will remain. It doesn't go exactly like that ... but I won't spoil the series for those who haven't seen it.

The upper reaches of humanity. The stratosphere of human ability, where most will never come. Somewhere there is a kind of border; when you pass it, you pass out of sight. Or rather out of understanding. People can no longer relate to you. You are no longer one of them. They don't expect you to be like them anymore, to be fully human. You are different. And even if they try to treat you like a human, you don't really fit in anymore, because your interests and your outlook are so different.

***

It is this part that fascinates me so intensely. I wonder about the Messiah, for instance. We Christians believe this was Jesus Christ. Some think he was like God in disguise all that time, but read the book and you'll see that he grew and progressed. It is written right there. Go read the gospels for yourself if you doubt me ... and if you care, which probably most of you don't. Anyway ... when did he pass beyond human understanding? How far had he come when he was 12, and the scribes in the temple were baffled by his wisdom? They must still have been able to see some of it, which they evidently did not see later when they opposed him. One thing I like about Jesus is how he remains human in some ways all through his life. He is hungry, he is angry, he is sad, even afraid. Yet he perseveres. He goes on till the bitter end and beyond. I like Jesus. God Almighty is a bit too much to relate to sometimes.

On the whole, I don't find gods very interesting. They are too remote from human endeavors, especially these days with cosmic gods. I guess it was easier to relate to the Iron Age gods with their family squabbles and sex scandals, but that's really not an option. Instead we've got supermodels and soap operas. Like the Iron Age gods, they are works of fiction even though people kind of believe that they are real. They are real and fictive at the same time. But these are too human for my purpose again. Money and fame really does not take people to the limit of my perception. Only exceptional genius can do that. An Einstein, a Tesla, perhaps Gates. People who do the impossible and then do the impossible again. What is the path they took to get there? When did their path diverge from the thousands who started out in the same direction?

I'm not envious, nor do I ever expect even to try to follow any of those. I wanted for a long time to leave my humanity behind, but I reconsidered. I don't think I did it for the right reasons. Perhaps I did not reconsider for the right reason either, but there you are.

But it's not about me anymore. I just wonder what happens, what it is, how far it goes. I just wonder about the changes, about the loneliness, about the giving up or not. About the price you must pay and the rewards that you reap. Most of my fiction deals with these things. My main characters tend to be people who somehow break the normal limits of what a human can do ... and don't turn back.