“I am as a night-bird in the wilderness, an little owl in the waste. I lie awake alone, like a bird on the ridgeline” (Psalm 102:6-7).
Michael Collins, Command Module pilot on Apollo 11, was described by the press at the time of that mission as a man who would experience loneliness unlike anyone since Adam. Collins was, for a brief time every orbit while Armstrong and Aldrin were on the moon, out of contact with the entire human population. Of course, for him and six other astronauts, those lonesome moments lasted only minutes. They had nothing on Mark Watney.
Released in October 2015, The Martian tells the story of an astronaut who, in the aftermath of an evacuation from the surface, is left all alone on the Red Planet with no way to contact anyone. Matt Damon plays Mark Watney who must figure out how to eat, communicate, and, somehow, get back home.
On Earth, teams at NASA and JPL, once they realize that their presumed-dead astronaut is a living and stranded one, work to determine how to cross the more than one-hundred million miles as soon as possible. Sean Bean, Kristen Wiig, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and Jeff Daniels head this part of the cast.
Directed by Ridley Scott (Aliens, Blade Runner), The Martian was one of the ten highest-grossing films of 2015 and continues to be highly rated almost eleven years after its release. Leanne and I re-watched it recently, and it’s a good movie. Damon is great. Really, the whole cast is fantastic. Even though the movie has so many characters (least on Earth) that many lack development, they all come across as fleshed, believable individuals. And the Wadi Rum in Jordan looks like Mars. Though, I imagine it did for me partially because it was the same location used for Red Planet, Mission to Mars, and The Last Days on Mars.
The film captures the novel on which it’s based rather well. I think Watney’s character is more interesting and relatable in the film because we experience him more as an emotional creature rather than a strictly rational one. Though, neither the book or movie spend a lot of time on that aspect of his survival.
While working on this week’s post, I did some reading on the psychological impacts of solitary confinement (this, for example). In simple terms, humans experience severe issues when we’re left all alone. People, like those in prison and in immigration detention centers, who are kept in solitary confinement for prolonged periods experience anxiety, depression, hallucinations, and suicidal thoughts.
As a character, Mark Watney is mentally and emotionally resilient. His ability to turn stressful moments into humor is, we’re told, was a factor in his selection for the crew of the Hermes. And, for the story being told, that’s sufficient for me. But I can’t help thinking about how spending almost two years alone, without seeing another face or hearing another’s voice would impact someone. I certainly can’t imagine what it would be like to have that isolation forced upon you.
Psalm 102 has some of my favorite imagery from the Psalter, particularly these two verses above. In very few words (eleven in Hebrew) we’re given three different pictures of loneliness, all of them of birds—perhaps the most free of all creatures—in barren or high places.
In my mind, the birds in these verses are all singing. Perched on rooftops or some weathered branch with their bodies upright, their voices echo in the silence that surrounds them. Likely, what they sing is searching—a call looking for a response. One that goes unanswered.
The author of this poem has placed themselves amidst these creatures. Lying alone in bed, they too are calling out in song, written rather than sung, in hopes of a response. Hoping, like the birds around them, for an indication that there is someone nearby.
This Psalm is, of course, directed toward God. It is, like all those in this particular book, a prayer. A prayer, as it says, for those afflicted when they are weak. And what is as afflicting and weakening as the feeling of being all alone.
But we need more than God. Mentally, emotionally, even physically we need other people: to see them, hear them, be present with them. Because if we lie to long in our beds or in the desolate places of this world, we break down.
As a character, Mark Watney managed to hold on to himself, his emotional and physical well-being. Yet, it’s not as easy for any of us—citizen or immigrant, innocent or imprisoned—to sustain ourselves in isolation. We cry out with our own song hoping for a response, for some indication that we are not completely alone nor fogrotten.
Hoping someone might hear and come to us.
Jesus, you were once a prisoner. We pray for those in prisons and detention centers that they might know you are with them where they are. And that we, as a nation, may cease the harm of imprisoning them alone.