Suicide and loss of meaning are concepts I was introduced to in Existential Psychology. In the course, we read Death of Ivan Ilyich (1886) by Leo Tolstoy, which was a reflection of Tolstoy’s own life. The novella explores loss of meaning and lack of purpose. Similarly, Tolstoy’s Confession (1882), which we explored in our Twilight Zone course, is a personal statement on meaning and suicide. Tolstoy had seemingly everything – wealth, notoriety, material possessions – but he could not ignore his lack of meaning beyond superficial achievements. Tolstoy became estranged from life around him, and eventually became suicidal. Over the next ten years, he contemplated suicide, but eventually overcame it through religion.
Alice Koller, author of An Unknown Woman (1981), also contended with suicidal thought and loss of meaning. Koller was disillusioned by her bestowed identity as a straight woman and typist. She did not recognize herself nor understand her purpose for being here. Koller’s saving grace ended up being her dog, Logos, and an Augustinian journey over the course of three months.
In our lecture, we discussed the stages of the search for meaning – and it greatly resembles the Augustinian-Dantean journey. It begins with the confrontation, or an event that forces one to look at the sum of their life and contemplate its weight and authenticity. Next begins the search – for genuine meaning. This stage is often trying and opens the doors to suicidal ideation, such as in the case of Alice and Leo. Then, a choice appears – the choice to either engage with life or to end it. If one chooses to engage with it, there is a magnificent rebirth. This rebirth often takes the form of living for someone or something outside one’s self. Finally, there is integrity. At this stage, one ponders what they have completed, and what is still left to finish. There should be a purpose that is not finished until one’s last dying breath – a purpose that lies in one’s humanity, not just in one piece of it, such as career.
In “Changing of the Guard”, Donald Pleasance as Professor Ellis Fowler is confronted with forced resignation. He has been deemed retired by a board of trustees. Fowler is in despair as he feels he has made no impact on his students over 50 years. He decides to resign from life as a whole, and complete suicide behind the statue of accomplished educator, Horace Mann. As the bell is about to toll for Fowler, he finds himself in his classroom, surrounded by past (and passed) students. As Fowler’s students offer him the poetry and lessons that strengthened them in dark times and in death, Fowler realizes the impact he has had. He returns home and enters peacefully into the next stage of his life without career.
Rod Serling considered “Changing of the Guard” his last episode, as seasons four and five were taken over by CBS and manipulated for mass consumption. Rod’s sentiment makes this episode all the more profound. He also unfortunately passed away before The Twilight Zone’s rebirth. Just as Tolstoy wrote himself into the character of Ivan Ilyich, Serling wrote himself into the character of Ellis Fowler.
Fowler’s near-suicide was intentionally placed behind the statue and looking up at it. It symbolized shame and reverence. These sentiments could have been reflective of the quiet takeover happening on the production of The Twilight Zone. Additionally, the episode’s uplifting message of expanding your identity beyond one piece of your existence could be reflective of Serling’s own Augustinian-Dantean journey. He had children (which motivated Tolstoy) and independent writing works – other things outside of himself to live for.
In my own existence, I have yet to face my significant confrontation, but I have felt myself preparing for it in the last year or so. As I complete my undergraduate education and apply for advanced degrees, I am constantly met with writing prompts on my academic and career ambitions. This inevitably opens the internal discussion on what my purpose is and what I wish to contribute to life outside myself. With this transition, my education feels less exploratory and more intentional, which can also feel limiting and what leads to my fear of the impending confrontation. Am I making an accurate decision on my ambitions? Is this what will fulfill me? Are there other options I haven’t considered? Am I spending all this time worrying when my true purpose lies outside my academic and career goals, or is the worrying justified since I want to lessen dissonance and burnout?
I feel confident enough about my graduate education decision to forge ahead and accept the possibility of a change of course. I also realize that a change of direction is okay, if my meaning dictates it. At the end of the day, I am choosing to engage with life (including its triumphs and trials) rather than allow it to pass by while I am paralyzed by fear of choice.