There are many versions of hell.

I awakened this morning from a dream/nightmare.  Waking was a release from the images rising up from my subconscious.  I dreamed of reestablishing my company.  I was accompanied by two old friends.  My associates knew the business, were trusted, competent.  The direction of the dreamed images abruptly changed when I dreamed having a conversation with one of these friends.  He explained that he was about to file a lawsuit against me, to recover medical costs for injuries incurred by one of his children in years past.  In my dream the “news” came like a lightning strike from a suddenly manifested, ominous, dark cloud.  I awakened, thankful for respite from the prospect of defending myself in a courtroom.  If you’ve experienced such dread, you know what I mean.

There are many versions of being cast into hell.  Hell is a place of disorientation, loneliness, anomie, the absence of all social norms.  Hell is what one dreads, resident within the unconscious.

Last night we viewed Elizabeth Harvest, a film streaming on Netflix.  I am not a film buff.  This one, a futuristic horror-science fiction film was recommended by a writer who I respect.  I was forewarned, having an idea of what the story line entailed.  Elizabeth (Abbey Lee) is the new bride of a much older Nobel prize winning scientist, Henry (Ciaran Hinds).  She is taken to his futuristic design home on her wedding day, and is ritualistically carried by Henry across the threshold into the great room.  Elizabeth is awestruck by the rapid pace, the speed of all of these new experiences.  The scale, austere, sharp-edged intense colors of the home speak silently of the privilege and power represented by Henry.  Henry gives Elizabeth a tour of the house.  Henry warmly explains to her that everything in the house belongs to her, is at her disposal — except for one room.  The room is his work room which she is never to enter.  He mentions tantalizingly, the electronic lock on the door to the forbidden room is programmed for two thumbprints, his and hers.

Perhaps your imagination, like mine suddenly recalls the story found in the book of Genesis.  Adam and Eve created/placed in a paradise where everything for their pleasure, everything at their disposal except for one thing:  the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  To maintain their paradisaical status quo, they must obey the one proscription specified by the owner of the garden.  You know how the story goes, how the myth describes the human condition.  In order to be genuinely free the bright line commanded by the authority figure must be crossed.  And so it has always been the case.  Freedom of soul and spirit is not equivalent to bowing the knee to arbitrary authority.

I do not have to go into detail about what happens when Elizabeth enters the room.  I will say only that she discovers versions of herself, and that she is shocked by the horror of the discovery.  The rest of the movie is a struggle for survival subsequent to the violation of Henry’s proscription.  This is a bloody tale.  It is a story of conflict, of what knowing both good and evil means concretely.  It is a nuanced story with all five characters developed with deft visual precision.  Director-screen writer Sebastian Gutierrez has fashioned a memorable film.

Does the story of Elizabeth have a happy ending?  Of course it doesn’t.  Given the story-line the film has a good ending though.  I can only hope as much for the story in which we are now playing our roles, the story of the “human race” on earth.  Enjoy the trailer included with the post.  I would watch the film again.

---

If you are wondering what I did upon waking to recover from the foreboding images left by my dream of the evening…  I was reminded of my membership in community with Nature, as I observed the sunlight streaming through the pines.  The spring leaves on the dwarf Japanese maple were iridescent in the light.  The stone Buddha sat impassively but aware.

That is how I’d like to be