A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved,
except in memory. LLAP
This is the last tweet of Leonard
Nimoy, who passed away today at the age of 83 from chronic obstructive
pulmonary disease.
I will be perfectly honest here:
words failed me when I first read this news. At a later date (this is quickly
becoming my catch phrase...) I want to talk more about the curious thing that
is mourning a celebrity. I did not know Mr. Nimoy, not personally, and yet his
loss hurts. I am mourning for a legacy and an abstraction at the same time as I mourn for an actual human being. And yet, my sorrow is still sincere.
For now, I want to share with you
some thoughts on Leonard Nimoy's legacy, and how it has affected me personally.
He will, of course, be remembered
most notably for his role as Mr. Spock, one of television's greatest icons. And
it is only natural that this is my strongest association with him, and what I
want to talk most about. However, it would do a great disservice to his long
and illustrious career and an even greater disservice to the man himself if I
were to ignore the rest of his myriad accomplishments.
Nimoy was not just an actor. Far
from it. In his 83 years, he was also a director, a writer, a musician, and a
photographer, as well as philanthropist and, by all accounts, an all-around
decent human being. His immense talent could not be contained to the screen. He
has published two autobiographies, entitled
I
Am Not Spock and
I Am Spock,
showing both humor and self-awareness, in which he discusses not only his own
life, but the life of his iconic character, how he build the character, and how
the character stayed with him throughout his life. His photography explored Jewish
tradition and scripture as seen through the identities of Jewish women, in his book
Shekhina, the acceptance of
nontraditional standards of beauty in
The
Full Body Project, and the duality between the public image an individual
portrays and their "alternate ego", in
Secret Selves. He is the author of seven books of poetry and three
screenplays, including
Star Trek IV: The
Voyage Home and
Star Trek VI: The
Undiscovered Country. He has an impressive discography that is perhaps best
encapsulated in
"The
Ballad of Bilbo Baggins", composed by Charles Randolph Grean, which
spawned a letter-writing campaign to create a live-action
Lord of the Rings film with Nimoy as Aragorn. He was also active in
the Jewish community, spoke Yiddish as his first language, and often used his
Orthodox Jewish upbringing as inspiration. In fact, the Vulcan hand gesture
that accompanied the immortal phrase
"Live
long and prosper" was included at Nimoy's suggestion, and was
inspired by his Orthodox
Jewish heritage.
This guy has done some pretty
cool stuff, in other words.
And his career as an actor is far
from limited to Star Trek. From Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in The Pagemaster to Mustafa Mond in the 1998 adaptation Brave New World to the narrator for Sid Meier's Civilization IV, he was a versatile and dedicated
performer.
More than that, he was enthusiastic
about his what he did. Warm and welcoming to fans, he actively seemed to enjoy
being a part of the science fiction fandom, and was a common sight at
conventions and gatherings for much of his career.
But, there is no doubt about it,
Spock was the crowning achievement of his career.
Mr. Spock, the half human, half Vulcan
first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, at
first does not seem like a particularly relatable character. Distanced from "illogical"
emotions by his Vulcan heritage, he appeared often to be cold and calculating.
But it is in his struggle to reconcile his logical Vulcan mind with his emotional
human heart that the character becomes real, relatable, and infinitely
endearing. In so many ways, Spock is all too human, and Nimoy brought to life
his constant internal conflict so beautifully that it was almost impossible to
dislike him.
Spock is an outcast, a misfit, a
literal alien on a ship full of humans. He struggles with his own identity just
as he struggles with being accepted among his peers. To the lonely, the
awkward, the misunderstood, he was a hero, and a much-needed role model.
I grew up well after the original
series aired, but by then Spock was immortal. For a nerdy kid with cable TV it
wasn't hard to find an all-you-can-eat buffet of old science fiction, and Star
Trek was the frontrunner of sci-fi reruns in the 90s.
Let's not beat around the bus
here: I was an awkward kid. I was painfully shy, I talked funny, and I never
quite mastered that whole "eye contact" thing. I was Jewish in an
overwhelmingly Christian area, I was nerdy back when it still wasn't really all
that "cool", and by the time I really got into Star Trek, I was only a few years off from the time I would begin
to question why it was that both cute boys and
cute girls gave me butterflies in my stomach. I was a tomboy, a book worm,
and a teachers' pet.
Basically, I felt different. I was a kid. Everybody felt
that way. Whether or not it was true, I often felt like I didn't "fit
in".
And then, there was Spock. If a
half Vulcan scientist could become first officer (and at times commanding
officer) of a human spacecraft, ease tensions between the United Federation of
Planets and the Klingon Empire, and (sort of) save Romulus, what the hell did I
have stopping me? Spock was a badass who didn't let the fact that he was
different from everybody else stand in the way of achieving whatever he wanted
to achieve. Neither would I. It was the encouragement I needed, and though it
came from an unlikely place, it made a big difference.
And Nimoy understood Spock's
struggle, and understood its real-world parallels. In 1968, a teenage girl
wrote a letter to Spock in the magazine FaVE,
describing the struggle she faced being half-black and half-white. Nimoy
responded to her in a long letter, telling her how Spock dealt with not being
accepted as a child growing up among the Vulcans:
Most of the Vulcan kids
didn't like Spock because he was half human. So they wouldn't include him in
all the things they did. He was very lonely and no one understood hum. And Spock
was heartbroken because he wasn't popular. But it was only the need for popularity
that was ruining his happiness. The question was: which was more important,
being 'popular' with the pack who might turn against him at any minute or being
true to himself?...
Spock decided he would
live up to his own personal value and uniqueness. He'd do whatever made him
feel best about himself. He decided to listen to that little voice inside him
and not to the people around him...
He said to himself, 'Not everyone
will like me. But here will be those who will accept me just for who I am. I
will develop myself to such a point of excellence, intelligence and brilliance
that I can see through any problem and deal with any crisis. I will become such
a master of my own abilities and career that there will be a place for me.
People of all races will need me and not be able to do without me.' And that's
just what he did. And when I see him standing there on the bridge of the Enterprise,
facing danger and life-and-death problems so cooly and with so much
intelligence, I'm sure he made the right decision.
Of course, Spock wasn't the only
lovable misfit on TV at the time, or even necessarily the most relatable. But
the depth, vivacity, and gentle humor Nimoy brought to the role made Spock real
for me.
Mr. Nimoy, rest in peace, and
thank you. I may be just another fan, and I'm certainly not saying anything
new, but I mean it all the same. You were, and continue to be, an inspiration.
Live long and prosper.
-Raven
