Stage 8 in Star Wars and Harry Potter: Chapter 1 Part 10 of

THE BIG PICTURE: A POST-JUNGIAN MAP OF GLOBAL CINEMA

by James Whitlark, Ph.D.

Stage Eight in The Star Wars and Harry Potter Series?

"... And in the time of greatest
despair there shall come a savior,
and he shall be known as: THE SON
OF THE SUNS."

–George Lucas, "Journal of the Whills," 3:127




When even stage seven seems to transcend popular cinema, one has reason to doubt that such commercially successful, intensely merchandised series as Star Wars and Harry Potter have much chance of pointing their audiences toward stage eight. Nonetheless,only an extremely massive work has the opportunity to bring the audience over that distant threshold. Furthermore, given that Jung associated the Self with various paranormal powers, Lucas’s Jedi and Rowling’s wizards sound as if they have attained these and now apply them in communities (as with Graves’s stage eight). Admittedly, both series highlight stage three (villains and heroes), yet have been reaching vaguely toward considerably higher levels of complexity.

Lucas seems to have been striving for a way to register his own visionary experiences. Dale Pollock’s Skywalking: The Life and Films of George Lucas quotes him as saying that in Star Wars he wanted to teach the audience something he had learned following an automobile crash when he was eighteen, “laws really are in yourself” (Pollock 139-40). This sounds like a rejection of stage four, where laws come from the outside. It could even paraphrase the end of stage seven, which concludes with a glimpse of one’s place in the cosmic whole, complete with an internalization of its patterns. According to Lucas, his intuition of the “Force” comes from the same experience; this intuition also sounds like stage seven, which envisions the cosmic patterns in dynamic terms, like that constantly changing Force.
How, though, could Lucas raise his audience to this vision? During composition he may have experimented with fairly complicated modes of narration. In one example of this, the official screenplay of Star Wars (1976) begins with the above epigraph. It is a relic of drafts in which Lucas planned to refract the narration through one consciousness or more. In his original synopsis (May 1973), the story is told by Mace Windu, a “revered” Jedi master. Given Lucas’s penchant for punning names in his drafts, “Windu” (the source through which the action is seen) apparently derives from “window,” i.e., the material presented from a particular vantage. His next appearance is in The Phantom Menace (1999), where he protests “I do not believe they [the Sith] could have returned without us knowing.” Consequently, he provides a distorted view. Lucas may have wished from the first to evoke a commonplace of stage-six art: instead of seeing directly, we are always viewing through one or another filtering screen. Comparably, in The Empire Strikes Back (1980), Obi-Wan Kenobi refers to this idea when he explains that he was speaking from “a particular point of view.”

If Lucas’s recovery from the accident brought stage-seven-like seclusion and inclination to ponder the “big picture,” it might have provided a stance from which he could vaguely imagine even stage eight. At any rate, the Jedi, like stage eight, at least seem to be at an acme of human development, where they have achieved three long-desired goals: (1) a paranormal way of life; (2) victory over death; (3) unending, cosmic adventure.

Yoda–the Way Revealed?

That is the way of things…the way of the Force.

– Yoda, The Return of the Jedi (1983

As Jacques Derrida has so often noted, allegedly significant knowledge comes frequently in metaphors of hiding and revelation: something previously covered and closed being discovered and disclosed, so that it seems a major addition to our store. In psychological metaphors, this expansion of consciousness is an upwelling from the unconscious. In mythic terms, it is some ordinary being revealed to be a god or “demigod” (Lucas’s first term for the Jedi). The Star Wars saga personifies this process with Yoda, the greatest living teacher of the Jedi Way, hidden in a swamp and at first unrecognized as more than a small, crazed creature.

According to legends, knowledge of the Way is a preternatural condition, which, like magic in general, involves skills that are “occult” (etymologically meaning hidden). Primarily, the motif of hiding/revealing arises from the relationship of stage eight to lower-numbered stages, which find it more than they can understand; thus, its communications seem like cryptograms to be deciphered (e.g., Yoda’s ungrammatical doubletalk or Kenobi’s elegant paradoxes). Furthermore, stage eight must hide to avoid violent misunderstandings with the other stages. For their own, different reasons, people at the earlier Gravesean levels would like to be, control, or destroy “demigods.” In particular, stage six loathes the elitism it suspects in the notion of a stage eight. Thus, for instance, George Herbert’s Dune (a work Star Wars is written to counter) posits that even the most likeable, well-intentioned Übermensch (Paul Atreides) would cause more harm than the most malicious ordinary human.
Although Star Wars shares a desert planet and a spice trade with Dune, the Jedi have talents freely given by a Godlike Force. These are then enhanced through hard training; thus, instead of being the effect of genetics and chemical engineering (as in Dune), their abilities are largely the product of their own sober labors and thus morally under their control–as long as they can resist the machinations of lower-numbered stages.

Given the desire of levels two through five to make any magical being serve their own selfish interests and given the longing of stage six to eliminate any elite, how could stage eight survive without some hiding? In episodes four through six of Star Wars, seclusion and tactical retreat are necessary to keep the remaining Jedi from being destroyed or perverted to stage-three ends by the Emperor. This is the version of the Jedi that excited a worldwide audience, eager for a promised prequel. When this came, however, it depicted the Jedi as bureaucrats of the Republic, i.e., stage four, forced to obey stultifying codes and laws, including celibacy.
Perhaps, though, this was always Lucas’s intention. An early draft calls Yoda “Minch Yoda,” and The Phantom Menace gives him a counterpart called Yada. Presumably, Mensch Yada was a pun behind Yoda’s name. “Mensch” usually has positive connotations, but “Yada” does not. Despite his prowess and courage, he has a tendency toward talk and procrastination that neither proves effective against the Sith nor suits a truly superior being.

Obi-Wan Kenobi– Death Overcome?

If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.

–Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars: A New Hope


Obi-Wan is the one who, despite his own initial doubts and the disapproval of the Jedi Council, risked training Anakin, and he is also the one who sacrifices an earthly existence in order to aid Luke from the Beyond. Does his survival within the Force show the audience that no Jedi need fear death. In Star Wars, Obi-Wan’s body disappears during the duel with Vader and it returns physically during a draft of Return of the Jedi. In the actual film of the latter, however, the Jedi ghosts are glowing presences, apparently seen only by Luke. They are in his mind but not merely so. Obi-Wan manifests to guide Luke during the destruction of the first Death Star and to convey information in The Empire Strikes Back, where Yoda also sees him.

Religious traditions around the world vouch that in sainthood (or whatever else they deem the goal of human development), one attains so sure a connection to the Cosmos that death is in some way vanquished, such as through individual survival in heaven or through union with the universe. A proof of having attained is thus a blessed immortality. Although, for the Star Wars saga, Obi-Wan’s heroic translation into the Beyond is the model, Yoda and Anakin follow him there. In the manner of the Carlos Castaneda works that Lucas had been reading, Obi-Wan was originally conceived as entering into another dimension materially. This was an unsatisfactory attempted solution to death as contrasted with Obi-Wan’s becoming one with the Force. Allegedly, this also is the case with Qui-:

There is a drum roll that stops. Doves are released, and the body is gone. ANAKIN looks to OBI-WAN.


Obi-Wan: He is one with the Force, Anakin… You must let go.

(Lucas 2000, 138)



Nonetheless, like the Star Wars award ceremony (which parodies the Nazi propaganda film, “Victory of the Will”), this conclusion is mildly ironic. Not Anakin but Obi-Wan is the one who is holding onto Qui-Gon, whose unwise dying wish Obi-Wan continues to honor. Whereas the disappearance of Obi-Wan’s body is clearly a miracle, that of Qui-Gon looks like a piece of legerdemain, hidden behind a flight of doves, which (in our world at least) have an association with souls flying upward to heaven, not Jedi fusion with the Force. The audience may thus still wonder if all “luminous beings” (i.e., all sentient entities according to Yoda) have immortality or if only some Jedi have it.

Luke–Cosmic Action

Obi-wan Kenobi (to Luke Skywaker): You have taken your first step into a larger world.

-- Star Wars: A New Hope


The locales of the Star War saga are light years apart. From an astronomical distance, Obi-Wan senses a tremor in the Force when an entire planet is destroyed. No previous major movie had such an expansive setting. The drafts mention millions of physical worlds and the Jedi participate in metaphysical realms beyond these. In Star Wars, the tendency of cinema to express a mega-system found an adequate geography–or, more precisely, cosmography. The inherent difficulty with such a large arena is to keep it from overwhelming meaningful action.

Lucas solves this by way of the Death Star–one of the films primary metaphors. At one point of the composition, the hero was even called “Starkiller.” Though the largest imperial base is the size of a moon or planet, not a star, it is nonetheless called the latter. In cinema, the word “star” refers to an actor so commercially successful as to risk arrogance, as in a “star complex.” Whereas being hidden like Yoda and Obi-wan sounds appropriate to stage-eight, its opposite is the staginess of the Emperor. The Death Stars are both expressions of his personality and the second of them is so closely connected with him that he perishes during the battle that destroys it. When they explode, they become myriad points of light–perhaps metaphors for the democratic equivalent of a star. Since before this a vast sector of the universe lies in peril, the situation requires action, and Luke is instrumental in the process (albeit in need of all the others). Consequently, the cosmic action depends heavily on a familiar genre–a story of development.

The Growth of a Jedi

A Jedi’s strength flows from the Force.

The Empire Strikes Back


Being a hero, Luke displays prominent traces of stage three, as in his rush into adventure or less admirably in his often jealous, competitive relationship with Han Solo. To ground the action at this stage but the metaphysics at a higher one, Lucas relies on the Japanese martial arts, which ostensibly teach violent competition, yet actually instill a —do as in (Judo, Aikido, Karatedo), a program of spiritual development. Thus, these arts contribute significantly to the imagery as in Luke’s and the stormtroopers’ costumes. Because of that spiritual element, Lucas can combine martial with other metaphysical sources, for instance, in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s name. As has been often remarked, the “Ken-“ in it comes from the Japanese for sword, and “obi” from the martial-arts belt. Obi-Wan, however, also recalls Ogion, the Wizard who teaches wisdom and sorcery to the protagonist of Ursula LeGuin’s classic fantasy A Wizard of Earthsea. That novel concerns a youth fighting a mysterious being from a shadow dimension, who turns out to be the youth himself, like the scene in The Empire Strikes Back where Luke finds his own face within the helmet of Darth Vader. According to one martial-arts cliché, the opponent is always oneself–an idea designed to facilitate integration with the Shadow. Thus, Yoda explains that Luke lost the hallucinatory encounter because of anger and fear–the dark side of the Force. Eventually, he faces and redeems that Shadow (projected on Darth Vader, a name Lucas has explained as a pun on “dark father”). In Jungian terms, Luke is thus ready to encounter the Anima and then the Self.

Lucas’s first draft names the character who became Luke: Kane. Since there is no apparent reference to the Biblical Cain, the source is probably to the martial-arts master Caine, in Kung-Fu, one of the most popular television series at the time. Its scenes of interrelated physical and spiritual training serve as precursors of Luke’s apprenticeship to Yoda. Indeed, the latter’s fondness for fortune-cookie-like sayings in broken English are obviously modeled on monks and abbots in martial-arts films, also the inspiration of some of the Jedi’s magical powers, since the martial-arts energy (ki in Japanese, chi in Chinese) is a major analog of the Force (see http://sailfishxis.net/~frimmin/Faith/midichlorians.html).

Belief in such a God-like entity as that Force is inherent in the notion of stage eight, since it depends on the universe’s having a unity that can be known and used. In another draft of Star Wars, Luke tells his younger brother “[A]fter much study, he [the Skywalker] was able to know the force, and it communicated with him. He came to see things in a new way. His ‘aura’ and powers grew very strong. The Skywalker brought a new life to the people of his system, and became one of the founders of the Republic Galactica.” The phrase “one of the founders” well implies the collaboration suitable to stage eight. In this version, the Force seems accessible to anyone who studies i.e., potentially everyone, but according to The Phantom Menace it is determined by the “midi-chlorians” (their name a conflation of mitochondria and chloroplasts). These sci-fi, material (i.e., stage-five) versions of God cause Anakin Skywalker’s mother to conceive him without a human father. The obtuse Jedi Qui-Gon (chi- or ki-gone?) believes that Anakin is the “chosen one… who will bring balance to the Force”–an idea that sounds more like a mangled version of Chinese yin-yang philosophy than an insight into a human ideal.

Some aspects of the Jedi traceable to martial arts legends and to Lucas’s “experience” do seem like intriguing guesses about what Graves called stage eight. In integrating these with stock formulae of space opera, Lucas, however, dilutes them with such liberal doses of stages three, four, and five that the Star Wars saga is no exception to the general situation: stage eight remains almost unknown.

Harry Potter

Since at the time of my writing, Harry Potter is only four books and two movies toward the seven contracted, I must be even more cautious than with Star Wars (which is itself unfinished, but closer to its conclusion). Intended to be unusually faithful adaptations of the longest, best-selling children’s fantasies in history, the Harry Potter films have been moving the title character a Graves/Jung stage each movie (as have the books). In an interview with the scriptwriter Stephen Kloves (on the DVD of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets), J. K. Rowling explained that she indeed intended to give the children more “complex” ability and “mature” emotions each volume. Given that book one takes him from stage one to two, his rate of progress would lead him to stage eight at the end of the seventh and final volume, appropriate for his becoming a Dumbledore-like member of the hidden wizarding community.

From
Stage One to Two

By the end of the first work, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (Philosopher’s Stone in the United Kingdom), Harry has left the stage-one solitude he felt among his foster parents, the Dursleys, and joined a group he can trust (stage two). To obtain this, he overcomes temptation by the Mirror of Erised, which causes him to regress to the stage-one archetype of the lonely Fool, lost in mere dreams of family. Much of his time is spent in juvenile rule breaking, a Trickster (stage two) activity learned from the Weasley brothers. As part of a group of friends, Harry continues trickery in later books, but it occurs in progressively more complex contexts.

From
Stage Two to Three

The next work, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets teaches that he cannot completely rely on his group: his best friend’s sister, Jenny Weasley betrays him and unlike the first work (where Ron and Hermione both had their part in the victory), Harry must embody almost alone the legendary sword-wielding, dragon-slaying Hero of stage three. He receives the help of Dumbledore’s phoenix as a reward for his loyalty, a very knightly (stage-three) virtue, because it helps maintain hierarchy. The sinister aspect of hierarchy, however, appears in Dobby, the slave abused by Lucius Malfoy, an extremely Unscrupulous Winner (the conscious aspect of stage three).

From
Stage Three to Four

As in the previous works, Harry represents the archetypal corrective of the conscious aspect, so, in The Prisoner of Askeban, he expresses (the stage-four) archetypal Shadow–paradoxically a benevolent Shadow because the (conscious stage-four) Law in the book has become malignant. Fleeing the authorities, Harry expects a cell in Askeban prison for enlarging his already sizeable aunt, so terror of its guards threads through the narrative. His guardian Sirius Black (another embodiment of the Shadow, as the name suggests) transforms himself into a huge, dark dog to hide from the fiendish prison guards. Whereas Harry’s little gang consisted previously of children (with very distant adult assistance), Black and Lupin (a werewolf and thus a further emblem of the Shadow) join him, their adult perspectives adding a richer tone to the adventures.

From
Stage Four to Five
Stage-five imagery pervades The Goblet of Fire. Because of its massive merchandising, the World Quidditch Cup that begins the tale is a stage-five, commercial event. Fred and George Weasley spend much of the book trying to collect a large wager on it to finance starting a business. In its commercialism, the professional competition between the schools comes close to the Cup, pervaded by imagery of prize money, betting–and, naturally, publicity. The reporter Rita Skeeter, who spies and lies for profit, evidences how invasive and unreliable news becomes when sold in papers, even magical ones. As usual, however, Harry stands for the archetype of his stage, in this case, Life. Most obviously, he does so in the climax, when he liberates souls held by Voldemort, a Lord of Death. In a more personal and comic way, Harry explores typical activities of stage-five, young adulthood: the Animus/Anima-charged activity of asking a girl to the ball and his role as an investor in (or more precisely, patron of) the Weasley’s new business.


From
Stage Five to Six

Although Fred and George Weasley continue their stage-five plans to launch their business, practically every other theme in The Order of the Phoenix relates to stage six. The Order of the title includes a noticeably wide membership: a “squib” (the magic-less child of magical parents) as well as teachers of magic; a professional thief, a descendent of dark wizards, and an only partly reformed dark wizard as well as aurors (members of the magical police); a bureaucrat and a werewolf. Although the previous books evidenced respect for a diversity of beings, The Order of the Phoenix makes their cooperation essential to avoid domination by the reactionary “pure bloods.” The sorting hat preaches this moral as does Hermione. Having reached stage four in volume one, she attained stage six in volume four. In The Order of the Phoenix, however, her defense of the oppressed becomes feverish, finally with some clear support from Dumbledore himself. After his final battle near statues depicting wizard’s preeminence over other species, he condemns the inherent arrogance of the monument. Several times a chapter, one character or another voices a stage-six complaint against unfairness. Whereas stage four condemns injustice (violation of Law), and stage five disdains the unprofitable, stage six assumes the equality of diverse entities and thus resents the subordination of anyone. As usual, though, Harry is less involved with the conscious than the unconscious aspect of this stage: the search for Meaning. Until the antepenultimate chapter, he is constantly angry that no one will tell him what is happening. The climax occurs in the Department of Mysteries, whose workers have apparently been engaging in stage-seven researches into time and thought, but Harry can only make vague guesses about them. As a very vulnerable and fallible Wise Old Man (appropriate for stage six), Dumbledore at last offers a simplified explanation and admits having too much empathy with Harry. This led Dumbledore to delay his (stage-seven) task of fitting the puzzle together–quite possibly the subject of the next volume.

Continue to
THE BIG PICTURE Chapter 2 Part 1




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