Assignment Three- How to Face Death

 

            In most of our academic experiences, the subject of death is one that is not touched upon very often. Here and there among the courses we take as children, we might encounter it very indirectly in a history lesson, or as an element in a book or short story we are assigned. As we move into middle school or high school and the curriculum becomes more mature we might see more realistic portrayals of death in some selected material. But overall there is not much exposure. But why should there be, one might ask– isn’t school all about teaching us the things we need in order to live? From the basics of reading and arithmetic onward, the plan is to prepare us for life; to mold us into productive and well-rounded citizens who make the most of the time we are allotted. Death, it can be assumed, is something we all will face at random times when it takes a friend or loved one, and we will all learn about it indeed, just like everyone else: the hard way. For comfort and instruction in this realm, society has usually delegated the task to its religious institutions, leaving the public classroom out of it.

            This perspective can change somewhat for a college student, as it has for me. At the university level I have found the subject of death to be dealt with a bit more openly, at least in the paths I have taken through the humanities and philosophy. History is recounted more openly and brutally. Authors, poets, and artists who have made death a large component of their oeuvre are not censored; philosophers asking the hard, even (for some) heretical questions are given a forum. And the answers are not to be found on some solution sheet we can reference– we must arrive at our own by way of critical thinking and self-examination.

            For a direct confrontation with mortality, complete with a couple of ready guides who are at that portal as the tour begins, the literary offerings of tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom) and Wit (Margaret Edson) deliver a powerful set of lessons and observations on how to face death. It is an unusual but effective pairing of works. Each story involves a college professor who has just recently taught their last semester and is now facing a terminal illness, and in both cases there is a former student with whom they interact. But most poignantly, we realize that perhaps their greatest act as a teacher is the example they provide for us as they die.

The table below provides a quick overview of their differences and similarities:

tuesdays with Morrie                                            Wit

Morrie Schwartz, professor of sociology   Multiple friendly visits from a former student   A real person   Has many friends and family at his side   Dies in the comfort of his own home   A very warm and loving personality   Achieves some celebrity through television and the book

Vivian Bearing, professor of English   One of her doctors is a former student   Fictional character in a play   Has only one visitor; apparently no family   Dies in her hospital room   A proud woman, but also somewhat cold   Dies all but anonymously

 

            Basically, the two things they have in common are that they are both college professors, and both facing a terminal illness. Otherwise their situations are markedly different, and especially desolate for protagonist Vivian Bearing. Her last name is possibly a conscious decision by the playwright: She “bears” the heavy burden of intense chemotherapy and loneliness, and at the drama’s end also “bares” herself when she lets her hospital gown drop as the lights go down.

            One thing that both Morrie Schwartz and Vivian Bearing use in their final days is their experience as teachers as means to cope. For Morrie, this is a very natural process. The many truths he has acquired over the decades from his field of sociology can be put to practical use, and he is ready with a steady stream of aphorisms and anecdotes for his student Mitch Albom.

            “Do what the Buddhists do. Every day, have a little bird on your shoulder that asks, “Is today the day? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person I want to be?

(Albom 81).

            The constant stream of visitors, the documentation by Albom, and the media attention generated from Nightline’s Ted Koppel provide Schwartz with the opportunity to teach and inspire, right up to his last days. He realizes it for the blessing that it is and makes full use of it, leaving a legacy that continues to resonate. I had read tuesdays with Morrie once before, and as is typical with revisiting a work, I got even more from it the second time. I made the mistake of reading a particularly poignant passage near the end of a lunch hour at my job. Mitch Albom has brought his wife Janine with him for a visit, and Morrie learns that she is a professional singer:

            “Morrie raised his eyebrows. ‘Will you sing something for me?’… Shy about her talent, and a perfectionist about conditions, Janine never did. Which is what I expected now. Which is when she began to sing: ‘The very thought of you…’ (146).

As it no doubt had done before, reading this brought tears to my eyes. I am a professional musician who can well relate to Janine’s predicament. She did what any of us would have done.

            Overall, I find the story of Morrie Schwartz to be an important one. I think one could criticize Mitch Albom justifiably at times for being a little overly sentimental in the portrayal; one review I read online mentions these as “Hallmark” moments… but still there is a lot of wisdom and hope conveyed and most reviews are very positive. Mine included.

            The subject of death gets a very different treatment in Margaret Edson’s play Wit. This is not a “feel good” type of drama with any overt attempt at comforting the reader/audience member who experiences it. Just like its setting, Wit is a very cold and clinical look at a woman’s bout with ovarian cancer. The poetry of John Donne, some flashbacks from her academic past, and a few moments of dark humor are the only asides within this recounting of Vivian Bearing’s last weeks of life– as she undergoes drastic and experimental chemical therapy for a tumor.

            Contrasting starkly with the warmth and love that surrounded Morrie Schwartz, Vivian has no visitors except for one elderly former professor. There is no family present, nor even mentioned. While she does encounter a former student from her poetry class, he is a doctor who is strictly business in his relationship to her; in fact it seems she is more important to him as a research subject (i.e. “guinea pig”) than as a human being. (The playwright Edson had worked in hospital settings and must have witnessed patients in similar circumstances).

            The one trait that stands out regarding Vivian Bearing is her pride. She is a very intensely intellectual woman, one who has devoted her life to giving rigorous instruction in university level English– particularly poetry and the metaphysical works of John Donne. The latter have taken on a special significance in light of her own impending death; the fact that she focuses on his Holy Sonnet X, “Death Be Not Proud” is a subtle touch of irony. In a telling passage, she recalls her former professor’s obsession with how a certain edition’s punctuation of the poem’s last lines was faulty. It is something only an academician would place any significance upon, and hints at a serious lack of emotional meaning within such a life:

            “In the edition you chose, this profoundly simple meaning is sacrificed to hysterical punctuation: ‘And Death’-capital D- ‘shall be no more’-semi-colon! ‘Death’-capital D- comma-‘thou shalt die’- exclamation point… If you go in for this sort of thing, I suggest you take up Shakespeare” (Edson, 14).

In essence, Vivian Bearing, with no one else to turn to, is using John Donne as her guide into Death. She is attempting to make her last days an act of poetry, and using her expertise in the field, (her only apparent contribution to this world) as a reminder that her life had meaning. But did it? This is the haunting undercurrent at work.

            The lesson here, for the discerning, is that we approach death with whatever we have in our arsenal. For some, this is not much of substance. Vivian has her accomplishments as a teacher and sadly very little else, and she was a very didactic and demanding one. There is a hint of remorse in her recollections of how certain students reacted to her regimen. Maybe if she hadn’t set such lofty standards, not been so almost smugly intellectual in her demeanor and professional life– there would have been more people and compassion present in her decades of adulthood, including those last weeks when she needed them the most.

            Two very different but insightful looks at the role of death, and the attempt to find meaning in a life as its end approaches, tuesdays with Morrie and Wit both accomplish it to a high degree. The former is a lesson to the masses; Morrie Schwartz could be everyone’s favorite uncle, and his example is easy to understand and admirable for its bravery. One could almost consider it a “self-help” manual on how to face death. Surrounded by family and friends; staging a “funeral” while he was still alive to appreciate it; having a “podium” from which to deliver his final lectures on a most important topic– Morrie has an enviable last act.

            Vivian Bearing presents a less palatable but no less important nugget of truth, in that death can sometimes reveal the emptiness within the lives of those it threatens. But we human beings are proud creatures, and we will clutch at whatever we can to give some semblance of having led a life of merit. In the end, Vivian found solace in the sonnets of her literary hero John Donne, a man, though long dead, whose works had been an important aspect of her professional life and interior landscape. Perhaps the seeming immortality of the written word took on special significance as she contemplated her own end of life. There are many people who have died with far less to grasp at, and we can therefore be thankful that she had at least this much to carry her through.

            In summary, I will address any prompts for this essay that I haven’t already covered in my so far more free-style approach. I will keep them concise since I feel that I did indeed find answers to most already.

            I think it would be the general consensus that Morrie Schwartz found considerably more meaning in life and death than the character of Vivian Bearing did (or any real-life equivalent to her). The aspects that matter most are there for him– the love of family and friends, and a means to inspire and teach up until his last moments. Vivian has no such luck, but by her own choice.

            Their outlooks were vastly different because of the lives they had led up until that point. By all accounts Morrie had always been an open and loving father/husband/mentor, while Ms. Bearing led a cold and indifferent life in comparison. She threw herself totally into her work, sacrificing the opportunity for family or friends. She dies essentially alone.

            It is hard to determine which of the two actually has the more accurate assessment of death. Easily, Morrie does the better job of utilizing his own to help others face theirs, but this is more of a “life-lesson” than a treatise on dying itself. Wit may in fact be the more honest portrayal because a majority of people die as anonymously as Vivian did.

            Their lives both had meaning, but it is a matter of degree. Morrie Schwartz’s life was very extroverted and he impacted many more people than a loner such as Vivian Bearing could. For her, life was an intensely personal affair and one which she did not allow others much access. While it could be said that Morrie was extremely giving as a human being, Vivian was quite selfish. She paid the consequences at her life’s end for that choice, and only she could determine if it was worth it.

            Death is something for which a healthy amount of fear of is good. The fear hopefully motivates us to take better care of our health, avoid dangerous risks… but we must be careful not to think we can avoid it. Being able to accept our own mortality helps us to live life more fully and not waste the precious time we have.

            In my own life, and as I approach my latter years, I have come to accept death and do not fear it to any debilitating degree. I watched my mother die of liver cancer two years ago. And although I have no faith in an afterlife, I find solace that she had many years of rich experiences. The examples of both Morrie Schwartz and Vivian Bearing reaffirm for me that we shouldchoose such experiences wisely and savor them while we can.        

 

“And in the end

The love you take

Is equal to the love you make.” 

(Lennon/McCartney)

 

Works Cited        

Albom, Mitch. Tuesdays with Morrie: An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life's Greatest

Lesson. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Print.

Edson, Margaret. Wit: A Play. New York: Faber and Faber, 1999. Print.