One Litre of Tears - Suffering in the Media.

Yes, I know, I should be studying, promos are coming up. Sadly, my brain is full and distracted these days, so I shall do a little bit of writing instead until Mass. Also, I feel that I probably should write something intelligent, I fear the last few posts may have...uh...been...uh a tad nonsensical. I digress.

Lately, I've been watching a lot of asian movies and shows. Obviously, eternal wisdom would advise that when one has uh... attention difficulties, it would probably be wise not to distract oneself further whilst one revises for upcoming examinations. I suppose it doesn't help that my mandarin, cantonese and japanese is so bad, that I actually have to look at the subtitles to understand the dialogue is taking me away from understanding aldol condensation, but I digress once again.

I have been watching asian shows largely because I have run out of english things to watch. Lately, they've all become rather dull, and it broke my heart that House is ending. So far, I've rewatched the japanese series, 一リットルの涙, or One Litre of Tears, and also the Taiwanese movie, 帶一片風景走, (lit. take you on a scenic walk); the english title is 'Leaving Gracefully'. Both the series and the film were beautiful takes on life with Spinocerebullar Ataxia, progessive neurodegenerative disease of the cerebellum, the part of the brain that controls motor function and control. Over time, the patient loses control of her body, movement is sluggish and hard, muscles become stiff, walking deteriorates, eventually, control of the vocal cords go and one is left bedridden; all the while, mental function remains. To have this disease is to eventually become trapped in your own body, not paralysed, but practically useless.

Both are based on true stories. One Litre of Tears is an eponymous, loose adaptation of book written by 15 year old Japanese girl, Kito Aya. It is essentially her diary, written over the ten years that she had her disease until her death, documenting her thoughts, struggles, hopes and dreams. The book was a best seller in Japan. Leaving Gracefully, also based on a book, A Million Steps of Love, is about a typical family in Taiwan, a blue collar construction worker husband, Chih-hui, happily married to his wife, Hsiu-mei and their adolescent daughter. Their life takes a dramatic turn when Hsiu-mei is diagnosed with spinocerebellar ataxia. When Chih-hui finally comes to terms with his wife's disease, he decides to take her on the honeymoon they never had, going around the island of Taiwan on foot, hence the name of the movie.



What is most beautiful about these films is the clear beauty and joy that can be found in suffering. All the characters grow tremendously through the stories and become better people over time, learning to appreciate life and living. Here, you will find a clear picture of what love truly means.


I find it telling that you will never see such mainstream films come out of Hollywood, or her European equivalent. To date, I cannot recall a movie that I watched over the last decade that dealt with suffering and living with dignity, much less, an entire television series dedicated to it. This is due to the great secularisation of the west. The reckless abandon of her Judeo-Christian roots and morals has made the west essentially pagan. The irony of the culture of death is that it essentially stems from the fear of death.

One of the reasons the early Christians were so bitterly persecuted by the pagans was that they completely freaked them out. The romans essentially lived for themselves. Women and children were second class citizens, abortion, euthanasia, and infanticide were frequently practised (it's telling that Hippocrates considered abortion and euthanasia very contrary to medical ethos). Similarly, the institute of marriage was looked down on and neglected by promiscuous men to the point where Caesar Augustus ordered men to get married in a desperate attempt to deal with declining rate of marriage and births. Partying, sex with anyone of any sex, and wine were the name of the game back in the day. It's not hard to imagine then, that anyone that attached to enjoying the fleeting pleasures of one's life would also have a great fear of that which would permanently rob one of those pleasures, that is, death. A cemetery would be the last place to catch a Roman in those days.

Then come the Christians, whose founder conquered death itself, and thus there was nothing to fear. They visited the cemeteries, kept bits and pieces of their dead loved ones to be kissed and venerated, they thought chastity, modesty, and temperance. Women and children were treated as equals and marriage was abundant. Virginity and fasting and mortification celebrated. They paraded around with symbols of the conqueror of death, practically embracing it. It's not surprising the pagans completely flipped. And, I'm pretty sure gleefully attending one's own torture and execution for confessing the aforementioned conqueror of death didn't help very much. I wonder if this is beginning to sound familiar. Hmmm...

When you fear and hate something, it is typical to banish all images of it from sight. They, who campaign for the culture of death, fear suffering and disability and death, and have set out to preach that suffering from disability is a bane upon society, is profitless to society. Thus, the physically disabled are hidden from the camera unless they are a secondary character, a spectacle or some comic element. To see the suffering thrive in joy on the screen would be a disaster to the campaigners of the death, much less to see the normal profit from the suffering in an immaterial way. The whole issue of euthanasia is a terrifying thought. One often hears stories from places where it is legalised of euthanasia being committed against the will, or as the authorities deemed. This is the present sordid situation of the west.

However, that is not to say that philosophies of the life in the east are superior to the Judeo-Christian philosophy of the west, such that they allow them to produce such stories. Such an idea couldn't be more contrary. It is a great irony, in fact. The east is governed by eastern mysticism, and all the various philosophies and religions that arose in the east are founded on relativism. Hinduism and Buddhism are both based on the idea that one will be reincarnated after death, born into a new life based upon how one behaved in the previous life, until one has lived a life of the highest good. Hence, the rigid chaste system in India. It is from this principle that the relativism emerges, while, you must strive to be good and do good all your life, you have not just one lifetime to make mistakes, but many lifetimes. Therefore, even if one commits some evil in this life, it is a minuscule.

An example is the attitude of the east towards abortion. Hinduism considers it a gravely immoral act, and condemns it harshly, however, relents that in the dire situation whether mother's life is in danger, such an act may be permissible in order to say the mother's life. It's very utilitarian. Taiwan and Japan are countries with high abortion rates because of a similar attitude, thus their great decline in birth rate. One never hears about them because, unlike in the west, where abortion is celebrated, they know it is evil and wrong. It is done out of utility, and the lost child is mourned. In Japan, companies even offer grieving ceremonies for mothers. One marvels at the thought that these people celebrate the day of conception of a child, instead of the day of birth.

How then, is the western philosophy inferior? It is influenced by Christian theology, given to the world by God Himself. It is based on an absolute morality and truth that is no subject to the control of man, but stems from the constancy of the creator. That is why the life is celebrated, from conception to end of it in this mortal world. That is why suffering is exalted. So, then, why are we not the ones making films about suffering and enduring it with joy, bringing hope and changing lives, instead of escaping it?

This is one my favourite scenes from One Litre of Tears. If I ever become a father, I would like to be like this one. PS: There is also a film version of this book, which has been more filial to it. It was excellent.