E is for Escape

E is for Escape

“The air was cool and the car quiet as it motored through along a flat stretch of gun barrel straight highway which sliced through a desert. Malee sat in the front seat and in the back, beside Thuza, another young lady, Vietnamese she believed, called Thi. The final member of their little get away gang was an extremely bashful Aghan woman named Anoosheh. The car was being driven by a man Malee called Ken. The destination was unknown to Thuza but she was not afraid. Malee had won her confidence, earned her trust by protecting her during their time at the detention centre. She knew for certain that she would not have escaped the heinous intentions of some of the male inmates.”  From Chapter 10, Ashmore Grief

When life becomes a chore, a debilitating bore or when it throws more challenges at us than we can handle we want to flee. We want to run away from the unpleasantness and drudgery, and escape. Fiction is a great escape. When I read a good novel, I get lost in other people’s problems, and temporarily forget my own. If the author has done their job well, then I care about the characters they have created: I worry about them, I fear for them, I laugh and cry with them. I want to know that they will be all right. I desperately want their troubles to end, their problems to be resolved, their fears to be allayed. I hunger for the happy ending, the fairy tale because it reassures me that love can indeed conquer all. It’s possible.

The delusion is powerful: strong enough to propel us through misery or carry us through tragedy. We must have hope. We must believe.

The reality is that our lives are characterized by suffering, and no matter what form of escapism we choose, or how intensely we will and wish for it to be otherwise, it doesn't change the fact that for most of us our lives are not as we want them to be. Whatever tools we use to anesthetize ourselves; drugs, alcohol, work, books, movies, video gaming, pornography, or sex, are ultimately mere band-aids. We stagger from one disaster to another, holding on to hope and the ephemeral joy which fills the spaces in between.

In my novel, Thuza fled the frying pan of Christmas Island Detention Centre into an unknown fire, on the strength of a promise that her life would be better. Sometimes there is no escape.

What is your favourite form of escapism?

Photo source:

http://thedesigninspiration.com/photos/escapism/

All Things are Pure

French convict, Henri Chariere, a.k.a. Papillion, was planning the final stage of his getaway. Having already miraculously defied the odds to escape from the penal island, Royale, he needed a boat to sail to British Guiana where he and his friends believed they would be allowed to settle as free men.

Another escapee, a Chinese man called Ciu-Ciu, arranged to buy a boat off a negro woodcutter whom he called Chocolate. Having inspected the boat, and seen it was basically sound, Papillion cut a deal with Chocolate which included a satisfactory price and the purchase of some other supplies for their journey. Papillion tore some bank notes in half and told Chocolate he could have the other half when he delivered the finished boat and the other supplies.

When the day arrived for them to settle, Chocolate had done exactly as he was required. Papillion was impressed by the faithfulness of this man who was willing to help a stranger, an escaped convict. Chocolate had brought his half of the bank notes and asked Papillion to stick the notes together again for him. It apparently never occurred to Chocolate not to trust Papillion, or that Papillion might simply keep the money for himself after he rejoined the halves.

Chocolate was a simple man: a honest, hardworking man who wanted to believe the best of Papillion, and of people in general. He could not imagine people were deceptive because he himself was without guile. He had seen first hand the inhumane treatment that prisoners received from their captors in penal settlements like Royale, so he wanted to help Papillion escape and start a new life. Papillion saw God in this man.

"To the pure, all things are pure, but to the corrupt and unbelieving nothing is pure; their very minds and consciences are corrupted. They profess to know God, but they deny him by their deeds..." (Titus 1:15,16)