The Sinner: dark desires, death and vulnerability
I recently watched the third season of The Sinner and it brought up some thoughts. It’s a crime drama series in which “the reasons behind ordinary people committing heinous crimes” are investigated by a detective that actually tries to understand the guilty. I think the show is super interesting and daring in the psychological topics it probes. This season goes into dark desires, trauma and vulnerability, male vulnerability to be specific.
I’m not going to reveal the whole plot but basically it revolves around two friends, Nick and Jamie who know each other from college. These two are brought together by their mutual recognition of the arbitrariness and meaninglessness of “normal” ways of life, what was once the common sense way of living. Here’s my take on it. Considering the diversity of things and conditions in the world, you might expect this to reflect on our choices and paths in life. But when you think about it, we make extremely similar choices and walk the same paths in life more often than we take the roads not taken. I mean most people go to some kind of educational institution, where they are prepared for the labor market, until they’re “adults.” Then they start to work in one job or another, produce goods and services via various organizations to earn a “living.” We try to form relationships that are standardized and play roles that are standardized. We try to be very stereotyped kinds of things that all come with their own norms. There’s a certain way a mother should be, a father, a teacher, a lover or friend should be. Then again, I think we generally allow for the most freedom in our friendships which is why I think it’s a good form to model our other relationships on. But very often, they’re not like friendships. These ways of life are normal. The very definition of normal implies some degree of standardization. But they aren’t actually natural, which so many people assume they are. You could, in theory, not do any of these things and do completely different things with your life. This realization “frees” you in a way, but it also make visible your chains because alternative lifestyles are not easy to legitimize. This comes together with the realisation that you were delusional to think anything else before, and everyone around you that blindly conforms to the ways and values of modern life is still delusional. A pretty lonely feeling.
And then there’s death, another central theme. Life is nothing but uncertainties. It’s like we do everything in our power to overcome uncertainty, but it’s always there. It’s like a feeling of having no control, and many people strive to attain at least some control. Isn’t that what power is? But there is one certainty and that’s we’re all going to die. (Although this might have become debatable in recent years) But when you really remember death, it's shocking that you could have ever forgotten about it. It’s the end of everything we know and it could be just around the corner, at any given time. How is it that we’re all not freaking out about death right now? Something like this should be our major concern, right? And it’s something we all share. I mean obviously, no one wants to spend all day every day talking about death, but it's like we barely ever talk about it. We go on and on talking about the trivial topics that we’re taught to talk about like how horrible work was today, or who’s seeing who, or often just literally nothing. Death is a taboo, in many cultures I think. It’s like the elephant in the room where the room is the universe. We only think about it when it slaps us in the face and even then all our effort goes into moving on.
“Move on? Why does everybody say that? It’s like the only thing that matters is getting over things as fast as you can. I mean, death isn’t going away. If anything, it’s getting closer. And everyone I know is terrified, but no one wants to talk about it. We just hide it away in hospitals and old age homes. And we don’t even kill our own food, we just get our meat shrinkwrapped into these patties. It just feels like a lie.”
Thinking about death can be paralyzing. We don’t have much time in the world and the time we do have is continuously running out. And we need to do something. We have to continuously make choices and forge our own lives but we’re “steering blind.” We’re not the rational actors modern science thinks we are, we have far from perfect information about the world and no way to evaluate where all the other possible roads would have taken us; a paralysis of choice and a constant state of anxiety (at least if you’re an overthinker — which I think is equivalent to just thinker most of the time). Our vulnerability in the face of death is a fundamental feature of the human condition, so we’re not alone at all in this aspect. However, faced with the inevitability of death, and the uncertainty of everything else, it's hard not to feel alone. The meaning of life can be really obscure. But perhaps life means whatever you make of it. I personally think the meaning of life lies in sharing and experiencing. So I believe that social experiences and relationships are key to a satisfying life. Social experiences need the acknowledgment and acceptance of the fragility and vulnerability of human nature. It’s like a prerequisite for understanding. Do you think we’re good at that?
In one scene, Jamie tries to demonstrate how awkward people can be about death. He small-talks his way into a small group at a bar and gets himself invited to the afterparty where he dares to be honest about death:
“All of us here in this hotel room. Everyone trying so hard. I mean there’s this effort, isn’t there? Underneath it all, it’s a bit desperate. Like we’re all trying to escape something. What is that? I think its fear. We’re scared. There’s this big yawning void we’re stuck in the middle of and we’re all just grabbing onto anything we can, right? Don’t look down.
-Why don’t you do a line and give it a rest?
I don’t want to do a line, I want to be right here with you. Talk me down off the ledge. Come on, help me out, I’m scared. you’re scared too, right? You want to do well, you want to make some money, you want to screw somebody, buy stuff, be someone, for what? Because it makes you feel safe. Deep down, you’re in free fall. All of us are. Look at me, we’re the same, aren’t we?
-I think its time for you and your faggot friend to leave.
Oh, so is that what this is now? This feels too gay for you? You need to swing your dick around, pretend you’re not about to die?”
This conversation brings up so much. I didn’t add all of it here but as Jamie goes on the people around him bombard him with stupid remarks like “what are you talking about?” and “oh, you’re so funny!” And when I watched this scene I remembered when I first became dangerously aware of death. That’s when my anxiety attacks began. I couldn’t talk about it with anyone! Whenever you try you get discouraged by the awkward, avoidant reactions people have. It’s just so weird how alienated we are from something that’s so fundamentally a part of our existence. An extreme form of denial.
Although I think we have a vulnerability problem in general, I also think that some people might be more prone to repressing their vulnerability. The more I learn and the more I think about it, the more I’m horrified by the concept of masculinity. I’m not talking about any given male, I’m talking about the constructed concept of masculinity and there is a difference. Among other things, the concept of masculinity deprives half the population of the freedom of being vulnerable and the implications of that are depressing. The traits attributed to masculinity are inhumane, and feeling the pressure to meet those expectations must be traumatizing. And the consequences of this toxic masculinity! I don’t think I need to get into how fucked up a world we live in, and yesterday a good friend said that half the problem was the patriarchal order. I think he’s right.
The detective examining the case and a potential victim, a painter that works on male vulnerability, discuss what the trauma was that resulted in Jamie’s behavior. The painter says something that just really stuck with me:
“What if it isn't one thing? One trauma? What if its just... a life? A million little things. Little cuts. Year after year. Sometimes a dam breaks. I think he just wants to be seen. Men want intimacy just like anybody else. They long for it. but they’re taught that if they’re vulnerable, they’re not men. It's like there’s this cultural expectation that’s innately traumatizing. I feel sorry for all of you. Wounded little boys.”
Now, I want to talk about the relationship between Jamie and Nick. It reminds me of perhaps the most troubled time of my own life. Nick is someone who is bored with the meaningless of life. And he’s not afraid to deviate from social norms so he does things most people wouldn’t do, or understand. Things that are risky and downright dangerous. Things that are random. Things that are exhilarating. Things that make him feel alive, possibly because they bring him so close to death. Jumping into a raging river, hoping that you won’t hit the rocks. Burying yourself alive for an indefinite amount of time. Driving at extreme speed with no regard for traffic rules and hoping not to crash. That kind of stuff.
“Have you ever had a person in your life that was totally exciting but you knew they were bad for you? When you’re around them, you feel more yourself, or the opposite of yourself. I mean, Nick scared me. It was a relief to get away from him. And without him things just feel … I don’t know how to explain.
-Hollow. My mother was bipolar, and it was kind of like that.”
I met someone a few years ago. The two immediate things I realized about him were that he was quite a bit older than me and that he was different. I decided to talk to him because I noticed he was drinking raki, which I thought was interesting because that’s like the only thing that would be strange to drink at a techno club. I’m not going to tell you the whole story but he basically wrecked me in about 6 months. I was manipulated, lied to, taken advantage of, humiliated, blamed, and played with for 6 months and I wasn’t even aware of it. Hell, he even stole from me. He stole several valuable items. Can you believe that he even stole gold from me? Turns out he was doing a lot more to other people. I later found out that I met him at the start of his manic phase, apparently he was bipolar. And I was at my most vulnerable. For reasons I’m going to write another post about.
Anyway, many of my friends asked me a very legitimate question: why are you with this person? What did I see in him? I mean I was very often embarrassed by him and scared of what he might do, him being the most unpredictable and daring person I’ve ever met. I was very often frustrated and downright furious. I couldn’t understand his disregard for his safety, or for my safety for that matter. I couldn't understand how careless he could be, it's like nothing meant anything to him. But I just couldn’t let go until he’d hurt me so much that I became terrified of him and what he could do. And I never knew why I let myself go through that, despite all the red flags. I think watching the last season of The Sinner helped me answer that question that I just buried away.
“I don’t understand why you listened to him.
-Nick is the most honest person I have ever known.
He’s also a sociopath.
-Are you sure about that? Look around. It’s a world full of sociopaths.”
We all have our dark desires but we’re constantly repressing them and conforming to social norms, displaying socially acceptable behavior and trying desperately to fit in. Not only do we repress our dark desires but also most differences. When you think about it the resulting monotony is kinda boring. I guess what captivated me about him was how fearless he was in being what he wanted to be and his disregard of anything he found boring or meaningless, like rules and boundaries. Now, I’m not saying I approved of everything he did, I definitely didn’t. But just the fact that he really did whatever he wanted was mesmerizing to me because I’d always followed the rules. Even the stupid ones. He made me feel like I could do anything. It was exciting, although extremely tiring. And I think his history was what pushed him to his most extreme, life had been really harsh on him. He was in a constant state of rebellion. Although I’m sure rebellious feelings are shared by many, we don’t really talk about these things. We don’t acknowledge them. Ignoring and even pushing away the people who have somehow accepted the reality of these feelings probably isn’t doing them any good. It makes them invisible at best, and being invisible really sucks. At the worst, they become “crazy” and are locked away and drugged to the point of numbness. When his manic period ended he dove right into hardcore depression and tried taking his own life which is when they realized he was bipolar and put him on lithium. Or at least that’s what he told me. But I believe him, he really was a different person when I saw him after that, he had a disturbing calm about him.
I know I have my own dark fantasies, and they can be spellbinding and awful at the same time. I have extreme feelings that I can’t really let out in a civil manner. Sometimes I have feelings I can’t really describe that are so overwhelming I feel like they’re bound to explode inside me. Especially when I witness an injustice, and there are so many in our world, something just snaps inside me. Not all the time, but sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to justify any problematic behavior. I’m a first-hand victim of this kind of behavioral honesty. But I do think we could be more honest to ourselves about our feelings, more vulnerable with others, and time to time, more reckless.
There are ways of catharsis that aren’t that dangerous or risky. I’ve been thinking about this and I think hard techno is how I channel these feelings, for example. I used to go out to dance every weekend to very aggressive music. I was sometimes ashamed of my taste in music because people would think its too hard or too dark. But I also noticed that most people I met that enjoyed this alternative underground genre were actually very kind. I can’t say the same for mainstream music. I thought about it and I think it was an escape for me from our boring modern lifestyles. Because that music that sounds like we’re going to war was the opposite of boring. It made my mind feel like something was going on. And dancing fast and crazy was the opposite of sitting around all day. It made my body feel like something was happening. It was an escape from the boredom of modernity. Also, it let me purge myself from all the negative feelings from work, from school, from life in general. Stress, anxiety, anger, hurt, disappointment, grief, hate. It’s like you dance it all away, at least for a while. Anyway, I just think that being more true with ourselves and our nature, and building strong connections based on mutual vulnerability might make the world a more interesting place, or at least a more sufferable place.
I can’t help but add that that guy ended up fleeing the country because he’d messed with a lot of people. He went to Denmark where he was fatally run over by a train, but miraculously survived with a really messed up body. How many people get run over by a train?! He recovered and seems to be as good as new now, but I don’t talk to him anymore so I don’t know the details. I’m glad I don’t have that kind of excitement in my life anymore, I feel like I’ve learned the value of peace of mind from that experience. I guess I was ashamed of that period of my life, especially while living it. Because it was so obviously dangerous, bound to end with destruction and devastation. It was like I was knowingly fucking up. But I’m grateful and surprised that something I watched on Netflix helped me to make peace with that part of my life. I feel like I understand myself better and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It just sucks that people who dare to be different are apparently often bipolar or suffering from some other mental disease. Or is that just how we label and control differences? Maybe if we didn’t isolate them from society and drug them to the point that they can’t feel anything, maybe if we tried to understand them, their stories wouldn’t have to be so tragic.
