Lost
“Tabula Rasa”
Originally aired October 6, 2004
Look. I am not a philosophy student. I managed to get my liberal arts degree without taking a single philosophy course. Impressive? I know. But what this means is that I will often miss philosophical allusions that are made on this blasted show. However, sometimes the writers like to bash us over the head with a reference that even a philosophy noob like myself can’t miss. For instance, even I know that “Tabula Rasa” is a philosophical concept that argues that when we are born, we are all blank slates, and that we become who we are through our experiences. In the ongoing battle of nature versus nurture, the concept of “Tabula Rasa” comes down firmly on the side of nurture. And I will pat myself on the back for knowing that John Locke was the Enlightenment thinker who popularized this notion. What I didn’t know is that it was an idea originally conceived of by Aristotle, and elaborated on by Thomas Aquinas. And while I knew that “tabula rasa” = blank slate, I didn’t realize that Locke originally referred to the mind as a piece of “white paper.”
So what does any of that hoo-ha have to do with this, the third episode of Lost (aside from illustrate my point that while I may overthink this show, perhaps that’s because the writers intend for us to overthink it, or at least think about it a little more than we do the average episode of CSI: Miami)?
In our very first full flashback that is non-crash-related, Kate wakes up with a rifle pointed in her face. Well, good morning to you, too! Kate had been sleeping in a pile of straw, in what the gunman is calling his “sheep’s pen,” and he’s awfully curious as to what Kate is doing there. Well, see, the thing is, Kate got tired after walking from the nearest town, some 15 kilometers away, and so she decided to take a little nap on his farm. Sorry. When asked her name, Kate does what Kate’s best at: she lies. My name’s Annie, she tells the farmer, who then offers her breakfast. Well, isn’t he a kindly old farmer?
Farmer Kindly makes her a plate of bacon and eggs, which she ravenously devours. As she eats, Farmer Kindly asks AnnieKate why she was trespassing on his property, and AnnieKate claims that she’s a recent college graduate from Canada seeing the world. She headed to Melbourne first, and started walking, and recently she’s run out of cash. Farmer Kindly accepts this pack of lies, even though Melbourne’s a good 100 kilometers away. He explains that his wife died 8 months ago, and he’s got two major problems: too many chores, and a hell of a mortgage. If AnnieKate will help him with the first problem, he’ll pay her a decent wage, and give her a place to sleep. AnnieKate attempts to shake on it, but it turns out Farmer Kindly’s right arm is a prosthetic.
Lost note: First of all: Annie. We know that this is the name of Ben’s childhood friend. What happened to her, anyway? But don’t forget that Annie is a nickname for Ann, and we had a couple other characters floating around with variations on that name: Ana-Lucia and Emily Annabeth Locke. For what it’s worth.
Lost note 2: Our first prosthetic! Yay!
Lost note 3: The issue of trespassing is an interesting one in retrospect, for isn’t that what Tom accuses the survivors of doing when he confronts them in “The Hunting Party” in season 2?
Tell me, you go over a man’s house for the first time, do you take off your shoes? Do you put your feet up on his coffee table? Do you walk in the kitchen, eat food that doesn’t belong to you? Open the door to rooms you got no business opening? You know, somebody a whole lot smarter than anybody here once said: ‘Since the dawn of our species man’s been blessed with curiosity.’ You know the other one about curiosity don’t you, Jack? This is not your island. This is our island. And the only reason you’re living on it is because we let you live on it.
It certainly seems that this is Benry’s attitude toward the survivors, and I wonder if that was the feeling of Alpert’s people when DHARMA arrived?
We next find AnnieKate rooting in a pantry, apparently in the middle of the night. She pulls away a panel, and fishes out a tin can full of cash. And this is where Farmer Kindly finds her. He assures her that he would have looked after her cash for her, but AnnieKate retorts that she has “trust issues,” which is the understatement of the episode. Farmer Kindly reveals that AnnieKate has been working for him for the last 3 months, and that every time he asks her about her past, she gets a funny look in her eye, so he leaves it alone and minds his own business. Farmer Kindly knew AnnieKate would leave one day, he had just hoped it wouldn’t be in the middle of the night. Well, this pushes AnnieKate’s guilt button; she agrees to stay until the morning and let Farmer Kindly drive her to the train station.
Sucker.
Lost note: The pantry: in “Adrift” in season 2, Kate is locked away in the hatch’s pantry by Desmond. Additionally, Kate’s stash: many characters maintain stashes on the show —
Hurley’s food stash:
Charlie’s drug stash:
Sawyer’s everything stash:
They’re like squirrels, these Losties.
So, they’re driving along in Farmer Kindly’s truck, listening to a little Patsy Cline. Leavin’ on Your Mind, specifically and appropriately. Farmer Kindly asks if they listen to Patsy Cline in Canada, and AnnieKate replies that they listen to Patsy Cline everywhere. Farmer Kindly keeps looking into the rearview mirror, and then suggests that they stop for a burger at a little place up the road, which AnnieKate turns down. Farmer Kindly isn’t subtle, and checks his rearview again, this time catching AnnieKate’s attention. She looks in her side mirror, and sees the large SUV rapidly approaching behind them. How long have you known? AnnieKate asks Farmer Kindly. A couple of days ago Farmer Kindly saw AnnieKate’s picture in the post office, and they were offering a $23,000 reward … and he figured … well, the mortgage and all … but if it makes you feel any better, it was a hard decision to make, AnnieKate! My name’s not Annie, responds Kate. And that’s when the marshal pulls up next to Farmer Kindly’s truck on Kate’s side and makes that annoying little finger-gun motion thingy because he’s a big jerkface.
Lost note: Patsy Cline! This is our very first Patsy Cline reference, but she’ll come up again and again in the show. Kate later plays Patsy Cline’s Walking After Midnight in the hatch as Sawyer recovers from his fever, it plays in the car in “Two for the Road” as Ana-Lucia watches Christian confront Lindsey, and it plays in “Left Behind” as Kate waits for the tow truck driver. Interesting that they use these two songs; I, for one, think of Crazy or I Fall to Pieces, when I think Patsy Cline. Both songs, of course, would also be relevant to the show. Patsy Cline, lest you’ve forgotten, died in a plane crash at the height of her career.
Lost note 2: Kate tells Farmer Kindly, “My name’s not Annie.” This is echoed again and again with Kate. In “Whatever the Case May Be,” Kate tells the bank robber, “My name’s not Maggie.” And in “I Do,” Kate tells her husband, Kevin, “My name’s not Monica.” However, she never tells any of these people what her real name is: just what her name isn’t. Then, in “Left Behind,” after Cassidy helps Kate meet her mother, Cassidy calls her Lucy, and Kate replies “My name’s Kate.” Not “My name’s not Lucy.” She identifies herself positively instead of negating her false identity. It’s interesting that all the people she says “My name’s not X” to are men, and it’s also interesting that Cassidy had to prove to Kate that she could be trusted and not expect anything in return before Kate would offer this truth about herself.
Right, so the marshal pulls up next to them, makes his jerkface hand gesture at Kate …
and that’s when another car approaches from the opposite direction, forcing the marshal’s SUV back behind Farmer Kindly’s truck. Kate takes this opportunity to grab the steering wheel, and between her assistance in driving, and the marshal’s road rage, Farmer Kindly never had a chance, and off the road goes the truck. Rolling, rolling, rolling down the hill, and if that’s not bad enough, now the truck’s on fire. Well, just great.
Kate manages to drag Farmer Kindly out of the truck and into the grass (yanking off that fake arm in the process) and finds herself on the edge of a road, so close to getting away. But that’s when she finds herself on the business end of a gun. Again. It’s the marshal: “Hey, Kate.” Well, hi yourself!
Lost note: Kate emerges out of the field with the injured Farmer Kindly to find herself unexpectedly at the edge of a highway. Which is similar to the moment when Ben’s father emerges from the woods with his dying wife and newborn child to find himself at the edge of a highway in “The Man Behind the Curtain.” They are both discovered by people who will eventually lead them to the island.
Lost note 2: The car crash is the first of many crashes on this show: both figurative and literal. We have car crashes, airplane crashes, boat crashes, hot air balloon crashes, bus crashes, people falling from high places and crashing into the ground (or Jin’s car), and of course, people crashing into one another. The collision is a huge symbol on the show, and one to be conscious of. It’s particularly interesting in Kate’s case because she and the marshal keep getting involved in crashes together.
The first time the marshal captures her, she escapes his clutches when they crash to avoid a horse
He finally catches up to Kate after she’s involved in a car crash,
and then, of course, Kate escapes him again following the plane crash …
Lost note 3: Kate saves Farmer Kindly at the expense of her own freedom. Jack, in “White Rabbit,” attempts to save his friend from some bullies, only to be attacked for his efforts. When the militia men arrive in young Eko’s village demanding that Eko’s younger brother kill the older man, Eko steps in and does it himself, saving his brother from this fate. And in Iraq, Sayid reveals that he speaks English when the American soldiers raid, to prevent the Americans from shooting his fellow soldiers. They all sacrifice themselves for the safety of others. And their sacrifices later determine their fates: Kate is caught by the marshal, Eko becomes a drug runner and criminal, Sayid becomes a torturer and Jack? Jack becomes a hero.
There’s a brief replay of the airplane crash sequence with Kate and the marshal: she asks him for a favor, he gets a hard metal case upside the head, and then the plane crashes.
So what happens with these two on the island? Nothing good, that’s what.
Jack’s been busy treating the marshal while the rest of the survivors start to sort through the luggage, pulling out the usable items. The marshal’s going to miss out on the fun, though, because he’s in really bad shape. Really, really bad shape following his shrapnelectomy that Jack performed earlier. He’s mumbling something about “Don’t trust her … she’s dangerous … ” and Jack’s all, “You shush, you’re out of it.” But then the marshal gurgles something about his handcuffs, and directs Jack to his Jacket pocket, where lo and behold, there’s a mugshot. And it’s Kate. Whoops.
Hurley checks in with Jack, and asks him if the monster was a dinosaur. No, Hurley-as-the-voice-of-the-viewer, the monster is not a dinosaur. How do you know? Cuz’ dinosaurs are extinct. Duh. Hurley then asks about the marshal, and Jack explains that if the antibiotics don’t work, the marshal’s body is going to shut down one part at a time, beginning with his abdomen. And the moment Jack turns his back, Hurley finds Kate’s mugshot. Whoops.
So where is our little fugitive? Still on the side of the mountain, returning with Sayid, Sawyer, Boone, Shannon, and Charlie from their failed attempt to make radio contact. They’re heading back to the beach, but it’s getting dark, and Sayid is pretty sure they need to make camp rather than attempt to head through the jungle in the dark. You know, with the monster and polar bears and everything.
So after a little swaggering on Sawyer’s part, they make camp, and Sayid demonstrates what must have happened in the crash, in a manner similar to how Jack did in “Pilot 1.” They left on the same route as everyone uses from Sydney to Australia, and 6 hours into the flight the pilot lost contact with the ground. We turned around back toward Fiji, helps Kate. So we changed course, Sayid continues. Regrettably, no one knows we changed course. And that’s when the turbulence hit. Kate adds that the pilot said they were 1,000 miles off course. Charlie remains stubbornly optimistic: what about satellites? Sayid, however, throws water on that: satellites need to know where to look …
Lost note: They’re off course? They’ve changed course? Anyone else reminded of this conversation from “Flashes Before Your Eyes:”
DESMOND: Oh, my God. You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you? [she nods] Then why didn’t you stop it? Why didn’t you do anything?
MS. HAWKING: Because it wouldn’t matter. Had I warned him about the scaffolding tomorrow he’d be hit by a taxi. If I warned him about the taxi, he’d fall in the shower and break his neck. The universe, unfortunately, has a way of course correcting. That man was supposed to die. That was his path just as it’s your path to go to the island. You don’t do it because you choose to, Desmond. You do it because you’re supposed to.
Sawyer brings up the French Transmission of Lost Hope, and Boone announces that they’re going to have to tell the rest of the survivors when they return. Nope! says Sayid. It’ll only diminish everyone’s hope. And hope is a dangerous thing to lose. So we lie, remarks Kate. Well, that shouldn’t be any problem for you, Kate!
Lost note: Sayid’s insistence that hope is important to maintain is reminiscent of the speech that Christian gives to Jack following Sarah’s accident:
CHRISTIAN SHEPHARD: You might want to try handing out some hope every once in awhile. Even if there’s a 99 percent possibility that they’re utterly, hopelessly screwed, folks are much more inclined to hear that 1 percent chance that things are going to be okay.
Jack: Her spine’s crushed. I tell her that everything’s going to be okay — that’s false hope, dad.
CHRISTIAN SHEPHARD: Maybe. Maybe, but it’s still hope.
The group goes to sleep, all but Boone, who takes the opportunity to take the gun from Sawyer and attempt to snatch the clip from Sayid. This latter action is less successful, however, and Sayid wakes up. This results in everyone yelling at Boone, who apparently just wanted to stand guard in the event that whatever it is that’s hanging out in the jungle makes an appearance (psst? Boone? That little handgun won’t be much help). Anyways, the group begins yelling at each other, and then they decide together that Kate should take the gun because they trust her the most. OH THE IRONY.
Lost note: This business of Boone wanting to stand “guard” is intriguing to me, and something I’ve only noticed this time around. Boone tells Jack that he is a lifeguard in “Pilot, Part 1.” There are a number of references to “guards” throughout the series: numerous references to people standing guard, but also the Republican Guard, the Coast Guard, and legal guardians. And let’s not forget the reference to Cerberus on the blast door map. This, taken with the “security system,” and all the various references to stashes, makes me wonder if there is something very valuable on the island that someone or something is guarding.
The radio expedition returns to the beach, and Sayid gives a big speech where he lies tells everyone that they were unable to pick up a signal. However, he gives the group a bunch of busywork: go collect all electronic equipment so that he can attempt to boost the signal. Also? They’re going to need to ration food. Also? Collect water. And? Start building shelters. He divides the survivors into three groups, as Kate catches Jack’s attention. She takes him aside to tell him the truth about the French transmission. When she’s done, Jack’s all … anything else you wanna tell me? Nope! That’s about it! says Kate. Say, Jack, how’s that perfect stranger to me that you’re treating in the tent? He still alive? Is he talking yet? And it’s Jack’s turn to lie. Nope. Not a word.
Hurley and Jack salvage some airplane seats, and Hurley wants to know if Jack mentioned to Kate what he knows about her. No, explains Jack. It’s none of his business. Fine, we’ll let the marshal handle it when he gets better! suggests Hurley. He’s not getting better, because the antibiotics aren’t strong enough. So Jack’s going to go back inside the fuselage to search through the bags in the overhead compartments for stronger medication. Hurley interested in coming along? Why, as a matter of fact, he’s not interested in wandering into a festering tunnel of rotting B-O-D-Y-S, but thanks for asking, dude!
So Jack wanders in alone, and it’s super-creepy in there: the creepiness not helped by Jack’s insistence on playing X-Files and searching through each bag with a little flashlight inside the fuselage instead of grabbing bags, and bringing them back out in the sunshine.
Seriously, what kind of half-baked plan is this? And doesn’t he think that perhaps everyone would be better served if a couple people retrieved all the bags from within the plane so as to collect as many useful items as possible? If they did that, though, Sawyer wouldn’t get a chance to play Templeton the Rat and loot the dead for their booze, cigarettes, and porn.
Jack gets all uppity about Sawyer stealing from the dead, but Sawyer’s merely a pragmatist. Rescue ain’t coming, and he’s got to take care of Numero Uno. By the way, Sawyer also thinks that Jack’s wasting his time trying to save the marshal. Is he going to use up all the available antibiotics to save one guy who isn’t going to make it anyway? According to Sawyer, Jack’s problem is that he’s still living in civilization. Sawyer, however, is in the wild …
Lost note: When existing in life or death conditions, do you try to save every single person, or do you act on behalf of the “greater good?” This a big question on the show, particularly in season one, when the Losties are struggling to make a society together. Obviously this question of utilitarianism is an important one to the show: they named an entire episode “The Greater Good,” after all.
Hurley’s keeping an eye on the marshal when Kate stops by the tent. She attempts to introduce herself to the nervous Hurley who only sputters at her, which doesn’t get any better when she turns around and he sees the gun in her waistband. Run away, Hurley!
Kate enters the marshal’s tent when it begins to rain, and for some reason puts her face right up next to the sleeping man. The marshal wakes up and takes it poorly when he finds Kate all up in his grill, and in fact, he begins to strangle her. Kate is saved by Jack, who doesn’t think it’s cute at all that Kate is in the marshal’s tent, much less making trouble. WHAT DID YOU DO? Jack demands to know, but Kate claims the marshal just jumped her …
Leaving the tent, Jack tells Kate that the marshal isn’t responding to antibiotics, he has a high fever, he’s bleeding internally, and his abdomen has become rigid. When Kate demands to know what will happen to the marshal, whether he’s going to suffer, and Jack assures her that indeed, the marshal is going to suffer for days. However, when Kate suggests that Jack put the marshal out of his misery, Jack lashes out at her and tells her that he knows about her: he saw her mug shot. Also? HE’S NOT A MURDERER. And he STOMP STOMP STOMPS out of the scene.
Lost note: “I’m not a murderer,” what Jack very spitefully says to Kate when he believes that she’s asking him to kill the marshal for her own selfish purposes, is repeated by Locke in “The Brig,” when he asks Sawyer to kill Cooper for him. Interestingly, Jack and Locke both kill someone shortly after asserting that they aren’t murderers: Jack kills the marshal, and Locke kills Naomi.
So, the marshal’s really starting to freak people out what with the loud moaning and carrying on, and Sayid gives Jack the heads up. Well, I’m trying to save him, grumbles Jack. Well, rumor is you can’t, retorts Sayid. OOH. BURN.
That night, Kate builds a fire outside of the marshal’s tent, and Sawyer approaches, offering her a light. He then goes on this long spiel about how he suuuure is glad he doesn’t have the gun right now because everyone knows what needs to be done about Groany McScreamsalot in the tent there, and as there’s only one bullet left and so on and so forth …
Indeed, the marshal is looking not good at all. Jack checks on him, and the marshal manages to tell Jack hat no matter what Kate says or how she makes Jack feel, he shouldn’t trust her, because she’ll do anything to get away. He then asks to speak to Kate alone, noting that it appears that Kate’s gotten to Jack, too. The marshal refuses to tell Jack what it was that she actually did because they’ve got to keep that mystery going well into season two.
Inside the tent, the marshal asks Kate what the favor was that she was going to ask him for on the plane. And it turns out, she wanted to make sure that Farmer Kindly received the $23,000 reward for her capture. But why? If you hadn’t saved him, you’d be free! protests the marshal. I am free, argues Kate. You don’t look free to me, retorts the marshal. WHATEVER, dying jerkface! He then asks Kate if he’s going to die. A-yup. You going to do it or what? he asks. Since she’s a murderer and all.
Outside the tent Hurley marvels that Jack would let Kate go in the tent alone, what with the gun that she has and everything. Gun? What gun? And Jack RUN RUN RUNS to the tent just in time to see Kate emerge. Well, good! She managed to NOT kill someone. For once. But as they lock eyes, there’s the gunshot. And Sawyer exits the tent, gun in hand.
WHAT DID YOU DO? demands Jack. Sawyer explains that he did what Jack couldn’t do and that the marshal wanted him to. Hell, he asked me to do it. Except that Sawyer didn’t do it. Apparently, he shot the marshal in the lung, while aiming for the heart, and it will take hours for the poor guy to die. Jack sends Sawyer out of the tent and finishes the marshal off once and for good. Thanks, Dr. Kevorkian!
The next morning, Kate joins Jack as he stares out into the sea, and she offers to tell Jack what it is that she did to get herself into so much trouble. But Jack doesn’t want to hear it. The thing is, Jack explains, it doesn’t matter who they were or what they did before the crash. Three days ago they all died. They should be able to start over.
Lost note: This little speech is rife with significance, I know, but for now, note that this is similar to what Juliet tells Jack when he’s being held at the Hydra station:
Well, that was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter who we were. It only matters who we are. We know exactly who you are, Jack Shephard.
… which is similar to what Sarah tells Jack in the flashback of that very same episode:
It doesn’t matter who he is, it just matters who you’re not. Jack, your father, he called me … to help you. He was so drunk I could hardly understand him. Look at the bright side. Now you have something to fix.
It’s actually a phrase that’s used often in the show regarding identity, sometimes to suggest that one’s past can be left behind, as Jack and Juliet use it, and sometimes to suggest that one’s identity is fixed, as when Sarah says it, and when Ben assures Jack that Juliet doesn’t care about him in “Stranger in a Strange Land:”
Juliet doesn’t care about you, Jack. It doesn’t matter what she’s done. No matter what you think … she’s one of us.
So which is it? Can people change? Or is the personality, the self, ultimately immutable?
Yes, but what about the rest of the survivors?
Charlie helps Claire with her bag, using an empty wheelchair. “Whoever’s this was is probably better off than we are,” he suggests, referring to the wheelchair and helpfully setting up next week’s episode. Charlie then fishes around for information on Claire’s baby daddy and is visibly relieved to learn that there’s no father in the picture. “Who needs men, right? Bloody useless.”
Sun attempts to bring Jin’s bag to him, and he brusquely dismisses her, but not before he tells her that she’s filthy and needs to wash herself up. Oh! And Sun? He loves you. WHATEVER, JERKY JIN.
In the meantime, Walt occupies himself by playing with airplane wreckage as his father, Michael peppers him with questions about his new friend, the old bald guy. You mean Mr. Locke? Yeah, Mr. Locke. Does he have any kids? asks Michael. Didn’t say, replies Walt. Oh, yeah? What does he say? Some of it is secret. This isn’t what any parent wants to hear, and Michael demands more. All Walt will say is that Mr. Locke told him that a miracle happened to him. Big whoop, says Michael. A miracle happened to all of us. And then Michael does what any reasonable father would do, and forbids his son to hang out with the creepy old loner any more. He’s my friend! protests Walt. So am I! argues Michael. Well, a real friend would find my dog, challenges Walt. And Michael promises to go look for Vincent as soon as it stops raining. Walt looks out the tent and the rain, on cue, stops.
Lost note: Mr. Locke? Yes, this is what I was referring to about the writers bashing us over the head with philosophical obviousness. This is when we learn Locke’s name for the first time, and it’s not a coincidence that the episode is entitled “Tabula Rasa.”
Lost note 2: Did Walt stop the rain? This, I’m afraid, is one of those unanswered questions that I don’t think will ever truly be answered. It certainly remains a possibility, hinted at later in “Special.”
So, off Michael goes into the “haunted jungle,” as he calls it, until he’s chased out of the woods by some loud growling, which he quickly decides isn’t Vincent. (Good guess, Mike!) He runs into a little grove where Sun is all nekkid and bathing, as per Jin’s order earlier. Awkward! (And ironic, you see, because Jin and Sun’s marital problems stem from her inability to keep it in her pants. Jin, by calling her filthy — and meant both figuratively and literally — and sending her away to cleanse herself, causes her to be gazed upon by another man.) Michael slinks away, telling her that she probably doesn’t want to hang around because he heard something in the jungle, and by the way he didn’t see any of her naughty bits. K! BYE!
Locke, in the meantime is busily whittling something — a whistle, he explains to Charlie. Locke, later, sits on the beach, back turned to the water, and uses the whistle, which immediately draws Vincent out of the jungle. Good trick, Locke!
A considerate man, Locke wakes Michael to tell him that he’s found Walt’s dog, but he thought Michael should be the one to return it to him.
Lost note: Could the dog whistle be a clue? Dog whistles create a high-frequency sound that humans can’t hear. Frequencies seem to be a recurring issue on the island: Sayid attempts to find the correct frequency for the French Transmission, they search for the satellite phone’s frequency, the Looking Glass station blocks frequencies … So what up with the frequencies? (And I could go on here about the other meaning of “frequency:” the rate at which something recurs, and time loops and so on and so forth, but let’s just leave it here, yes?)
And then there’s a Hey-Kids-Maybe-We-Can-Make-This-Being-Stuck-On-A-Crazy-Island-Thing-Work-After-All! montage of happy survivors sorting through luggage and hanging out together as “Wash Away” by Joe Purdy plays over the scene. Looks like everyone gets to “wash away” their pasts and start over! Hooray! They’re so happy!
Except for Locke, and his creepy scar-stare as he watches Michael and Walt intensely? menacingly?
Well, what’s THAT about?
Well, let’s talk about Locke, John Locke, and the “Tabula Rasa.” Strictly speaking, the “Tabula Rasa” means that one is born but a blank slate: that our experiences shape us, and we are not inherently born a criminal, a king, a sinner or a saint. Now, in this episode, the stress is placed on the idea that Kate, and everyone else, have been given clean slates on the island. It doesn’t matter who they were before, they can walk away from their pasts. However, a clean slate isn’t the same thing as a blank slate. They aren’t newborn babes who have no life experience written upon them. And thus the invocation of John Locke’s concept of the blank slate is a curious one.
I think it’s fairly obvious from what we know from watching the first three seasons that most (if not all) of the characters don’t miraculously change into new people leaving their past troubles behind the moment they set foot on the island. They are who they are (with room to change, but gradually, not immediately). And they are who they are because of what they experienced in their past. And this is why I think they named this particular episode “Tabula Rasa.” I think it has less to do with Kate’s new found freedom, or even Kate herself; but rather, it’s a statement about the show as a whole.
This is the first full-length flashback on the series, and it is the first episode that follows the format of half flashback/half island events. The “Tabula Rasa” refers to two things: 1. the characters and who they are, which will be revealed in flashback, through the events that shaped them into the people that they are on this island, and 2. the show itself. After all, at this moment, the show is pretty much a blank slate, and these people, these characters, could be anyone at this point — an idea that is somewhat difficult to keep in mind when we know them so well, three years later. The writers are telling us, by calling the episode “Tabula Rasa,” and naming one of the most important characters John Locke, that the flashbacks on the show are the key …
Which is why I think it’s particularly interesting that one character is juxtaposed with three other characters in this episode, and that character isn’t Kate, the star of this episode’s flashback.
Nope. It’s Jack.
Juxtaposition #1: Jack and John Locke. At the end of the episode, Locke sits on the beach, staring up into the island as he blows the dog whistle, summoning Vincent. He returns the dog to Michael. The very next scene is Jack, who sits on the beach, staring out into the ocean, when Kate sits next to him and he delivers his little “it doesn’t matter who we were” speech. What interests me about these two scenes is the way that the two men are sitting in the same place (well, not literally, they aren’t directly next to each other or anything, but they are both on the beach) facing opposite directions.
Meet Janus. Janus is the ancient Roman god of gateways and doors, of beginnings (and endings). In fact, the Romans worshipped him at sacred beginnings: at marriages, births, planting times, and his name is where “January” came from.
Note his two faces, staring in opposite directions. Janus watched over passages, including the passage of time, from the future to the past, and vice versa, and the passage from one world to another.
Now, as I’m sure you know, Jack is a nickname for John, but that’s about where the similarity between the two men ends. Their viewpoints are very much so pitted against each other later in the series: one desperately wants off the island, the other desperately wants to stay. One looks to rational, scientific explanations, the other seeks truth in more mystical places. They look in opposite directions, but in some regards, they are dependent upon each other. They are Janus. And their struggle with each other shapes much of what happens in their future on this island. Of course, we don’t know that at this point in the story.
Also, I think it’s fun that the writers threw in this symbol of the god of beginnings at the beginning of the series. A little celebration of Janus on a show that is completely consumed with Time! How fitting!
Juxtaposition #2: Jack and Sawyer. As we well know, Jack and Sawyer have some issues with each other. They don’t exactly share the same world view or get along. Also? They both have a thing for the same chick. Which never makes friendship particularly easy. Now, what I’m about to suggest, I don’t want to be misinterpreted as meaning that I think that Jack and Sawyer are different personalities of the same person or any such nonsense, but in this particular episode, it would appear that they are identifying Jack and Sawyer as being two parts of the same consciousness.
Whatza?
Let’s return to the scene in the fuselage when Jack is foraging for antibiotics: Jack journeys into the depths of the terrifying, dark, and dangerous fuselage. There, he encounters a figure who is also rooting around in the fuselage, looking for items to indulge his baser needs. This figure, Sawyer, criticizes Jack for remaining in civilization. Jack = Superego, Sawyer = Id, Fuselage = Unconscious. Now, in Jungian terms, Jack represents the conscious mind, and Sawyer is the “shadow” figure of the unconscious:
In Jungian psychology, the shadow or “shadow aspect” is a part of the unconscious mind which is mysterious and often disagreeable to the conscious mind, but which is also relatively close to the conscious mind. It may be (in part) one’s link to animal life, which is superseded during early childhood by the conscious mind; afterwards it comes to contain thoughts that are repressed by the conscious mind. According to Jung, the shadow is instinctive and irrational, but is not necessarily evil even when it might appear to be so. It can be both ruthless in conflict and empathetic in friendship.
Later, it’s Sawyer who takes it upon himself to (try to) kill the marshal, to do what Jack couldn’t. Of course what ends up happening is that Jack does what Sawyer couldn’t. Jack was never going to euthanize the marshal, not when he knew that the marshal was going to suffer an agonizing death, not when he realized that he would quickly deplete the survivors’ supply of valuable antibiotics on a man who was not going to survive; and this isn’t surprising. Jack is a doctor after all, and he follows the Hippocratic Oath.
However, somewhere deep inside of him, Jack knows there is no hope for the marshal, and he also knows that he is risking the survival of many more people to save one man. Sawyer acts as the shadow figure of Jack’s subconscious, that dark voice inside of himself that Jack can’t hear beneath his strong sense of commitment and obligation, the voice that tells Jack that he must let the marshal go. Sawyer forces Jack’s hand and literally makes Jack do the thing that Jack on the conscious, good doctor level simply can not do.
Juxtaposition #3: Jack and Farmer Kindly. So in the flashback, where does Kate wake up? At a farm, right. But where on a farm? In a sheep pen. Farmer Kindly is a sheep farmer. That is, Farmer Kindly is a shepherd.
Hey? What’s Jack’s last name? Ding! Ding! Ding! SHEPHARD!
But that’s not where the similarities end: both men tell Kate that they don’t know what it is that Kate did, but that it doesn’t matter, both men see Kate’s mugshot, thus they “know” who Kate is — a fugitive. And both men serve as intermediaries between Kate and the marshal. However, one delivers Kate to the marshal and the other delivers Kate from the marshal. One acts as her betrayer, and the other is her savior.
And Kate? Kate is the lost sheep.
Go back to the scene where Farmer Kindly finds her: there is a lot of prison imagery in the shot. The slats of the fence resemble a prison cell’s bars, Kate is wearing a vertically striped gray and black shirt that looks a bit like the traditional prison garb, and of course, she’s inside a pen — a holding cell for animals.
But not just any animal: sheep. Sheep symbolize the laity of the church, Christ’s followers. And the Lost Sheep is a very special parable in the New Testament. In Luke 15, Christ tells three parables: one about the lost sheep, one about the lost coin, and one about the lost son, or the prodigal son, as it is well-known. The stories teach the same lesson: we rejoice when that which has been lost is found again. The parables stress the importance to Christ of the salvation of the sinner, of the lost soul. Kate is the lost sheep, the lost soul. But who saves her? The shepherd, or the Shephard?
Farmer Kindly intends to hand Kate over to the marshal for reward money. In doing so, Farmer Kindly is acting as a Judas figure: handing over Kate to the authorities for a price. But, as events play out, ultimately did Farmer Kindly betray Kate, or did he simply deliver her to her fate?
I’m not sure if any of you kept up with the controversy that erupted about a year ago or so over the interpretation of Judas’ act. The gist of it is that the Gospel of Judas, a Gnostic text that was removed from the New Testament by the Bishop Irenaeus in the 4th century, paints Judas as not the ultimate betrayer of Christ, but rather as acting on behalf Christ. According to the text, when Judas turns in Jesus to the authorities, he is acting on a direct order from Christ himself, rather than acting in greed as is portrayed in the other Gospels. Judas turns in Christ to the authorities, so that Christ may fulfill his fate: to be crucified, die, and be resurrected.
Still with me? Right, so what if in handing Kate over to the marshal, Farmer Kindly, although done entirely for the money and not on Kate’s orders, helped Kate fulfill her fate? What if Kate’s fate is on the island? What if she is supposed to go to the island for some reason, and Farmer Kindly, in an act of seeming betrayal, actually facilitates her fate?
Not that I’m suggesting that Kate is a Jesus figure here. No, if there is a savior figure, in this instance it’s the Shephard. Jack Shephard. Jack is the one who over and over again asserts that whatever it was that Kate did isn’t his business, it’s in the past; it doesn’t matter who she was then, just who she is now. He’s the one who makes the reference to being dead for 3 days, as Jesus was before his resurrection. And he’s the one who saves Kate from her past, by literally killing it. With the marshal’s death, Kate has the opportunity for a New Life. She’s been saved! Hallelujah!
Or, you know, not. Things have a way of not staying buried on this island, as Locke once said (or rather, will say), and it seems that applies to hatches and supposedly dead fathers as well as the survivors’ pasts. Even as the symbol of the past that chased her lies dead, Kate still isn’t free of it. At least not here on the island. Kate continues to run, continues to look to the past during her time there. What is intriguing is what as we learned in the flash-forward in season three: it appears that Kate must be free of her past off the island; she’s not in jail, she’s literally roaming free, but how? How did Kate finally achieve her blank slate, her “tabula rasa?”
HEY! Programming note: I am taking next week off (I know! What a slacker! What can I say? It’s 4th of July. I’m giving myself a mini-vacation).
But on July 11th, I expect you all to be caught up, and ready to discuss Locke’s episode “Walkabout.” There might be a pop quiz. You’ve been warned.
Lost originally aired on ABC and is now available to stream on Hulu and IMDb.
This post originally appeared on the Hearst site Tubular.