Fr. Stephen Grunow crosses swords with "Conan the Barbarian"

It's hard to believe that almost thirty years have passed since an "Auuhhh-stree-ühhn" body builder named Arnold Schwarzenegger—with many muscles exposed and far fewer skeletons in the closet—had his breakthrough role as a lovable, pre-historical troglodyte-romancer in "Conan the Barbarian". Since that film is now ancient history and Hollywood is what it is, a remake was recently released and is now showing in a cave theater near you (and in 3-D! Rock on!)

I've been too busy getting manicures, making customized martinis, and croqueting pillow covers playing crochet singing karaoke to see it, but Fr. Stephen Grunow of Word on Fire stepped up to the proverbial plate and left two hours of his life at the door. No, it's not because he likes monosyllabic dialogue or the wonders of Hyborian Age technology, but because he loves philosophy—and writing good movie reviews of movies that aren't so good:

But in respect to thinking, I am a thinking kind of guy.  I even think about films that are clearly telling me not to.  While watching the new Conan I couldn't help but think of the older version- the 1982 John Milius spectacle starring Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Cimmerian adventurer.  I count this flick as one of my favorites even though my admission of this fact seem to produce mocking guffaws and quizzical looks.  There is this memorable scene in the film where the young Conan is forced to push this immense wheel (evoking the myth of Sisyphus) which over time transforms the skinny kid into a hulking behemoth.  I remember musing during that scene, given my scrawny physique at the time, how I might get one of those wheels for myself.

 The old version of Conan the Barbarian wanted us to think about something, a very particular and peculair idea that is presented at the opening of the film.  The idea is offered by Nietzsche: "what does not kill us makes us stronger."  Given this prompt, we know what we are in for.  Milius was offering us a comic book explication of Nietzsche's famed uberman in the guise of Arnold's teutonic barbarian.  The film is also a not so subtle commentary on religion, the deceptions of its leaders and the folly of its practitioners.  Conan overcomes this and death as well.  Nietzsche would be proud.
 
The recent film version of Conan the Barbarian aspires to much less.  In fact, when one of the characters (Conan's damsel in distress) inquires of Conan as to whether he believes that their existence is ordered by a higher power to a higher purpose, she is met with a swift rebuff: "I live, I love, I slay, I am content."  Conan's barbarian simplicity wins her heart, indicating that men might want to try that pick up line more often.  Let me know how it works.
 
Nispel is not interested in philosophical commentary.  His film is meant to entertain, and if the fantasy genre impresses you, then I say go for it- you won't be disappointed.

Fr. Grunow's review brings to light something I've long believed: that even the most seemingly meaningless and superficial piece of entertainment has a certain worldview and philosophical perspective that should be taken seriously, no matter how confused or barbaric it might be, since it reflects the views of a certain (even large) swath of the population. As Fr. Grunow writes:

Getting at the reasons for the endurance of this archetype might be worth some thought, given the how influential it remains in the popular culture.  [Robert E. Howard, creator of Conan] clearly wanted to create a story that would turn the culture's sense of order on its head by extolling the virtues of barbarism while at the same time exposing the inherent decadence of civilization.  Freud postulated that the condition for the possibility of civilization is the ability to defer the gratification of instinct.  Howard seems to agree and through Conan subverts this foundational principle.  In his estimation, barbarians are right to resist the power of civilization, particularly its institutional and religious forms.  For Howard, civilization is the mitigation of freedom's potential, which in his estimation is the natural state of man.  What kind of man does civilization produce after all?  Howard was not impressed with the answer to this question.  Conan is the antithesis of modern man in its enervated, domesticated and emasculated form- the form civilization has produced.

Read the entire piece on the Word on Fire blog, as it is an entertaining and thoughtful review of a movie that I may see one day if I can make it to purgatory. As for Nietzsche's belief about the ultimate purpose of life, here is the blunt summary offered by Sister Celine Rita Jette, S.U.S.C., writing even prior to the first Conan cinematic adventure: "Let each postulate his own goal. On the 'strength' of such an hypothesis, Nietzsche substitutes power for individual 'happiness' (after which every individual is said to strive) as the ultimate goal of life. He maintains that a rich and self-confident nature is not at all interested in happiness. It is all power, deeds, desires; imposes itself upon things, and even violates them. As for questions of eternal bliss, it lets that go to the devil." (The Philosophy of Nietzsche: In the Light of Thomistic Principles [Pageant Press, NY: 1967], p. 63).

Comments

[Sandra Miesel]

I hope you meant "crocheting", not "croqueting...?

Howard's original Conan and King Kull stories are deeply nihilistic, which oddly doesn't prevent the protagonists from having a "crude sense of honor." Despite his contempt for "civilization" as weak and hypocritical, Conan nevertheless keeps saving it from Worse Things and winds up an effective king of a civilized state. Howard's gift for pulp sword & sorcery has (fortunately?) never been matched, especially not by the movie versions.

[Gail F]

In the books, was Conan sort of a noble savage (like Tarzan-- who is VERY different in the books than in the movies)? My husband read them when he was a teen and, though he liked the Arnold movie, says the Nietchze stuff was not in them.

[Carl E. Olson]

Sandra: I was caught between wanting to play croquet and to crochet (ha!), so I changed it to signing karaoke. That'll teach me to pretend to know anything about sticks and strings!

[Chris]

Sticks and strings may break your bones...

[Dale Price]

I would say the same thing for Kull, Sandra. While I wouldn't call myself a student of Howard, I think his overall theme (if it can be called that) was that civilization needed an infusion of barbaric "blood" to keep it from becoming hopelessly decadent. And civilization, for all of its flaws, was better than chaos.

Though I haven't read them all, I think David Drake's "Lord of the Isles" series captures a lot of that same ethos, and buckles a pretty good swash.

[sports good]

That'll teach me to pretend to know anything about sticks and strings! I think his overall theme (if it can be called that) was that civilization needed an infusion of barbaric "blood" to keep it from becoming hopelessly decadent. And civilization

[Manwe]

I disagree with some of the premises here, namely that Conan is nihilistic. And I think I have to agree with Dale Price.

Let me quote an SF author that I had a discussion with about this whole thing:

"I would have to reread it with adult eyes, but my memory is that the Conan
stories portrayed a Lovecraftian universe filled with hostile gods and dizzying
abysses of time, a grim and Darwinian sense of vast eons passing, and older
races, serpent men of Atlantis and so on, having once been where humans are now,
and foretelling the abyss into which humans one day would pass.
That is an arguably nihilistic world view, but then again so is the fatalism and
despair underpinning most pagan cults. Strictly speaking, it is the sorrow of
heroism that I recall in Conan, something like Achilles in Hades bemoaning his
fate -- his glory was great, but soon passed away."
AND
"My point was that I would not really call that nihilism.Grim, melancholic,
heroic, pagan, doomed, yes. Nihilistic, no."

And that pretty much somes up my point! :)