Leonard Nimoy died last Friday, and with him a
part of my childhood. The obituaries dutifully ran through his long and varied
career, but let’s face it, if it wasn’t for the role of Mr. Spock, he would
have died in semi-obscurity, another TV character actor whose resume consisted
of one-off guest appearances on Wagon Train
and Marcus Welby. Spock made him immortal,
and in the afterglow of that one gig, we could tolerate the awful singing and
the goopy poetry. But Spock is nothing to be ashamed of. He’s one of the great
TV characters, a humanized alien and alienated human who touches the nerd in
all of us. When I was nine years old, I wanted to badly to be him that one
weekend afternoon, I took my father’s barber kit down from the tin closet in
the basement and cut my hair straight across my forehead. My hair is much
thicker and curlier than Spock’s. It was not a good look for me.
I often think that in creating Spock, Roddenberry
and Nimoy misread the zeitgeist of the 1960s. They put forth rationality as an
ideal at precisely the time when rationality had become suspect. The counterculture
wasn’t interested in logic, which could justify the pitiless violence in Vietnam,
or in science, which had created the weapons for it. No, what was wanted in the Age of Aquarius were authenticity,
free love and feel-good spirituality, and as Star Trek dragged on into seasons two and three, Spock changed with
the times. He became less of an organic supercomputer and more of a space-going
maharishi, with his meditation and his quest for truth beyond science. (At the beginning
of the first movie, he was actually living as a monk.) I also recall, in the
late, bad episode Savage Curtain, one
character (Abraham Lincoln, no joke) mentioning the Vulcan philosophy of the
One. There’s empiricism for you.
Then there the questions of whether we will
ever find humanoid life off the earth (the answer is no), and how in heaven’s
name races that evolve on separate planets ever manage to interbreed. Throughout
the various incarnations of the franchise,
humans have mated with Vulcans, Romulans, Klingons and Beta Zeds, and some of
these races have mated with each other. As Carl Sagan said, you would have more
luck crossing a human being with an avocado, because they, at least, share a
common ancestry and some DNA. A Spock could never exist in reality, any more
than warp drive or the teleportation of matter, but in TV, as in religion, reality is not
the point. To find Spock, you must look within.
1 comment:
A nice tribute. One of the extraordinary things about Nimoy's bequest to science fiction is that the latest round of Star Trek movies has turned up such a fine actor to play the part. I was prepared to be very disappointed when I sat down to watch the first film and was that much more pleased when Zachary Quinto picked up right where Nimoy left off. Spock will both live and prosper longer than anyone had a right to expect.
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