Star Wars and Me

Since I was a Jawa-sized Jewess, growing up in New Jersey and attending Jewish schools, I have been drawn to the mythology of Star Wars. I saw all three movies (because then, we knew them as a three-movie deal instead of three parts of a nine-part series, three parts of which would never be developed, and the other three parts of which would be prequels that explained stuff that we already knew about the lore of the Star Wars Universe) in the theater (1977, 1980, 1983). My little brother started collecting all those Kenner action figures, our family got a VCR and taped Star Wars off TV, and our education truly began.

Memorizing the movie was much easier than we'd thought. "Luke, we're gonna have company..." "TK421, do you copy?" "Into the garbage chute, flyboy...""I've got a bad feeling about this..." "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy..." "I have the death sentence on twelve systems..." Honestly, I wasn't even sure what that last sentence meant...if he had the death sentence on twelve systems, how was he still in a bar at Mos Eisley? But I dismissed the logic and embraced the magic. How many times did I see "Episode IV"? I stopped counting after 50. (That's right. 50.)

But more disturbingly, at some point, I became convinced that the Force had given me the power to control people's minds. Of course, Ben Kenobi, being a Jedi knight, could control Stormtroopers' minds and get immediate results. Because I am not a Jedi, I lack the necessary midichlorians to master mind control. And because the people I surround myself are less gullible than faceless, white-armored automatons, I developed "stealth mind control."

For instance, there was the time when I was 16 and majorly in crush with my best friend. I told him how I felt, and he shot me down. After four short years, he made an announcement: he liked me back! As I got older, I got better, and the lag time decreased...about two years ago, I decided I really wanted to write a singles column for the Jewish Week. I pitched the column, and the editor turned me down. Seven months later, I got a call: they wanted to restart the singles column...would I be interested in submitting? Cut to today, and I've been writing the column for over a year. See? Stealth mind control. The Force was with me. It was just slightly delayed.

An EMFB (English major from birth), I also loved the fact that the names of the characters and locations within the Star Wars universe seemed so resplendent with meaning. Han Solo, the loner. Luke Skywalker, the dreamer willing to believe in something beyond the horizon and beyond himself. Because of my brother's collection of action figures, I even knew some of the minor characters. Admiral Akbar, the fish-faced leader of the rebellion in Jedi. I loved that Hoth was so cold, and that Ree-Yees, Jedi's skiff guard, had three eyes. (Get it?)

Plus, there was a strong female lead, who despite her poor fashion choices (Coiffure by Cinnabon? A long white dress ill-suited for running? Not to mention the fact that "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away," they didn't seem to have discovered sportsbras yet...) was a strong woman, a diplomat-princess-action heroine...Princess...Leia? Laya? Leah? Like the matriarch? Wait a minute, was she Jewish?

And what was with the little green guy in Empire, who spoke in garbled syntax and yet was the source of knowledge, much like my high school teachers (sans the verdant hues, in most cases)? His name was Yoda? Like "yodea," which means to know? Anakin sounded a lot like anakim, the giants who reportedly lived in the Promised Land before the arrival of the Hebrews. And during the first time Ben Kenobi (K'navi? "Like a prophet"?) taught Luke about the endlessness of the Force ("it surrounds us, and penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together"), they did everything but sing the "Hashem is Here" lulav song ("up, up; down, down; right, left and all around; here there and everywhere that's where He can be found..."). And what about that lulav-like light saber? The whole thing was very suspicious.

In this article by Dave Gordon in the Canadian Jewish News, printed in anticipation of "The Phantom Menace," points out some of these Hebraicisms, including a few that never occurred to me. The fact that Jawas, faceless beings who are everywhere, bear linguistic resemblance to the 4-letter name of God (tetragrammaton). Also, "the name Chewbacca resembles ts'va-chah, meaning to scream or growl," he says. (Try to pronounce "ts'vah-chah," and you'll get an idea.)

I could be overthinking it--maybe Chewbacca simply looks like the type of guy George Lucas once saw "chewing tobaccy." But looking at the word Chewbacca now, I see more linguistic similarity to "koh va'khoh," meaning "here and there," or "from here to there," invoking the sense that he's an imposing presence, who's always there when you need him (wherever there is). Kind of like...well, the Force itself.

And because my brain always finds a way to connect pop culture and biblical texts/Judaism, I find myself thinking of Nadav and Avihu, the sons of Aaron the high priest and priests themselves, who impatiently brought a "strange fire before God," and were consumed. Could that be reinterpreted as giving in to the Dark Side?

Of course, I can't give this too much thought. Otherwise, I'll start ascribing whacked-out translations to names where no such meaning was intended: the planet of Naboo (nevuah means prophecy), Dagobah (dah-govah, know your height/stature), Amidala (my nation is poor). Although, the fact that there are so many such names does give me pause.

Still, there's this Hebrew phrase that keeps running through my mind. "Al tistakel be-kankan ela be-mah she-yesh bo" -- don't look at the outside receptacle (kankan, sometimes translated as "jar"), look at what's inside it. If I shouldn't pay attention to the gratingly annoying outer trappings of the Jar(-Jar), maybe I should look inward, to discover the truth behind the character.(Nah, I still think we could stand to lose Jar-Jar.)

And now that you know how my mind works, how Jewish references and pop culture intermingle into confusing, yet thought-provoking identity soup, and how the power of my suggestion takes root as a sleeper cell in your brain to resurface months from now as your own idea, feel free to flee into the night, clutching lulav or lightsaber, and praying the whole way that the Force will be with you.

Comments

[ken]

IT'S A TRAP!

[gatsby]

My Rabbi used to say the "Star Wars" was one of the most religious movies of all time. It's very much about spirituality (luke) vs. technology (Hans). Although this whole mitachlorian thing makes it almost biology over technology, which is entirely different.
Kinda interesting though

[Denise]

Thought provoking. Now I shall have to watch all of the movies again, darn you! :-)

[Dave]

I would argue that the whole plot line of Return of the Jedi was the story of Elish Ben Avuya/Acher and the story of teshuvah assoicated with it. We're told Acher can't do teshuva but Elisha ben Avuya can, much as Anaking ceased to be Anakin and became Darth Vader. It was Anakin who saved Luke in the end and not Vader. Revenge of the Sith was also playing to themes of Saul/David and the like. Each character eneded up being crule when they were attempting to be kind. Very much the misplaced kindness of Saul and Amalek and later his murederous rampage on the city of Nob. Anakin is cruel, when he should have spared Dooku. Ends up being cruel when he prevents Mace from lilling Palpatine and eventually even Obi Wan makes the mistake of letting Anakin live at the end.