Earlier tonight I revisited one of my favorite old episodes of The Twilight Zone, in which Donald Pleasence had starred as Professor Fowler, an English teacher who’d become downcast once the school foisted retirement upon him. In his fit of despondency, Fowler goes home and looks through old yearbooks, concluding that his life and career were a waste, and that he’d made no difference in the world. He takes a gun out of his desk-drawer and walks out into the snow, toward the direction of the school. He decides that he will end his life in front of the school, considering himself an “abject failure.” As he holds the gun against his head, the school bells begin to ring, luring him into the school. In his classroom he discovers students of his from the past, young men who’d died in wars. Each one of them, one by one, stands up and tells him how much of a difference he’d made in their lives. They recite poetic lines he’d taught them, about courage, bravery, nobility, respect, honor, etc. They cause the Professor to weep. They make him understand that his life and career did have meaning and purpose. They replenish him with his sense of identity, and fill him with joy. “The Changing of the Guard” is one of the greatest Twilight Zone episodes, and one of the best works of art that I know of. It can be watched on Netflix [Season 3, episode 37].
While it is true that Rod Serling exploited the medium of art, as well as fantasy and the imagination, he is one of the few who have been able to, regardless, render something realistic, as paradoxical as that may seem. For example, it is unrealistic that a Professor’s dead students should return to him and remind him of his worth, saving his life. But on the other hand, there are men in this world who lose their careers in an instant, thus losing all hope. That is the realistic element in this particular artistic work by Serling. No man contemplates suicide without his reasons. And a suicidal individual either needs to be reminded of his personal value, or be corrected rationally by someone who cares for him. Love is volitional, and essentially has nothing to do with emotion, although it is capable of giving rise to much emotion. Love and truth are inseparable, and they seek what is best for a person, not just what “feels good.” True love should not even be afraid or hesitant to offend if necessary. Artists like Rod Serling, who use art to tell the truth, are extremely rare in this world. His series The Twilight Zone will forever be worth returning to, time and again.
The following excerpt is from an essay on Serling I published early this year. The essay is in my book Martyrs of Art: The Poison of Idealism:
“Serling was an ambassador of the human condition. He is always defending the downtrodden, elevating the common man, and humbling the hypocritical and self-righteous. He was forthright through his characters about the reality of suicide. He could use a Christmassy context to house a suicidal message, bringing it home to the most poignant of deliverances! His stories almost always carry the redemptive and triumphant qualities. If they are absent, it is only because he wishes to put forth some version and degree of Hell to be endured by an unfortunate or deserving individual. Serling was a moralist. It is almost as if his morality was of the fundamentally Christian variety.”
Martyrs of Art: The Poison of Idealism is available here: