Recently some friends and I were discussing the great difficulty of translating Orson Scott Card's science fiction novel Ender's Game
into a film. After years of negotiations and editing it seems Card
still isn't close to a satisfactory screenplay. It is no wonder,
however, for a book that relies on extensive internal monologues to
illustrate the deep internal conflict between dark and light so common
to the soul's deepest struggles. Take the following excerpt as an
example:
"When Ender saw Bonzo’s
stance, his heart sank. Bonzo had also taken classes. And probably more
recently than Ender. His reach was better, he was stronger, and he was
full of hate. He would not be gentle. He will go for my head, thought
Ender. He will try above all to damage my brain. And if this fight is
long, he’s bound to win. His strength can control me. If I’m to walk
away from here, I have to win quickly, and permanently. He could still
feel the sickening way that Stilson’s bones had given way. But this
time it will be my body that breaks, unless I can break him first.”
(p.147)
All a movie watcher would
see next is Ender's first moves in his fight against the bully
Bonzo--like our own lives we cannot see Ender's mind and spirit wrestle
within.
When I pause long enough from the sprint of a hurried
life to examine my own internal monologue I see the same tangle of
darkness and light. I perceive there a struggle for an authentic action
that can express--somehow--the truth of the internal monologue for
those who cannot see its script. Could relationships, in their simplest
form, be understood as an explosion of two inner monologues translating
into a word, a touch, or a gesture?
My journey towards
authentic thought and action suggests that when I choose to acknowledge
God's divine presence in the midst of my inner monologue, a dialogue
ensues. The Catholic writer Henri Nouwen suggests, "Prayer can only
become unceasing prayer when all our thoughts -- beautiful or ugly,
high or low, proud or shameful, sorrowful or joyful -- can be thought
in the presence of God. ... Thus, converting our unceasing thinking
into unceasing prayer moves us from a self-centred monologue to a
God-centred dialogue." (Clowning in Rome)
Though
authentic, the darkness of my fear and anger still injures my soul and
my relationships. In my life, I experience a dialogue with God that can
transform this darkness into authentic light.
Joanna
Stanberry is a freelance writer on organizational leadership, a
consultant to the social sector, and a Masters student at Eastern
University. She enjoys really great cheese and lives with her husband
and daughter in New York City.
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