The Worlds of Farscape

by Sherry Ginn

  Ahkna and Staleek: Striving for Unattainable Desires

  It would be easy to classify the Scarrans as just bad guys; in fact, the back cover of The Peacekeeper Wars DVD identifies the Scarrans as an evil empire. They are one of the major military powers in the galaxy, and their cultural mores are quite different than the human viewers of the series. Yet this is a basic stereotypical convention of SF: reptilian species are the bad guys. Crichton even plays with this when he calls Staleek a “Sleestak” from the series Land of the Lost.4 But to understand the reasons upon which the Scarrans act, we must investigate the problems they have in viewing themselves and other races.

  Scarrans value toughness. They are physically big, hard to kill, and have claws, as well as a directed heat probe they can shoot forward from their hands. In the episode, “Incubator” (3.11), we see Tauza torturing the boy who would become Scorpius. She tells him that Scarrans are strong, but since he is weak, he is nothing. We learn that the Scarrans kill or enslave anything they view as weak. This seems an act of pure evil, but to them, they are preserving their societal values. Earth cultures did this as well. The Greeks would leave babies they deemed deformed on hillsides to die, and the Spartans killed children who looked weak. But these are not the values that cause the Scarrans to act “evil.” The Scarrans suffer from a boredom of their race. They have subjugated their own region, and they have nothing really to do.

  Koehn’s view expresses the tone portrayed by the Scarrans: “When we suffer from ennui, we think the world owes it to us to be intriguing and engaging... Instead, we behave like children. We have some need or desire, so the universe must fulfill it! We do not consider the possibility that the universe does not exist in order to cater to our every whim” (65). The Scarran belief in their own superiority forces them to act like petulant children. They are unsatisfied with themselves and need to test their belief in their own power. As Baumeister, Smart, and Boden point out, bullies with high self-esteem turn to violence when they feel that they encounter what they perceive to be weaker people. They are so ego-centric, they simply believe they cannot fail, so they become bored with their conquests—which, in turn, leads to more aggressive behavior (7–9). In the case of the Scarrans, they turn their attention to the Peacekeeper’s space in order to prove themselves and end their ennui.

  War Minister Ahkna first appears in the episode “Bringing Home the Beacon” (4.16). In the episode, she is in negotiations with the Peacekeepers on a treaty to cede some of the uncharted territories to the Peacekeepers in exchange for the Luxan worlds. The Scarrans believe the Luxans may be good cannon fodder troops for their war machine. Ultimately the negotiations fail because the Scarrans view the Peacekeepers as lesser beings. Ahkna is brutal, obsessive, and not adept at negotiations. It is not the Scarran way. Since the Scarran race believes they are genetically superior, they have little use for niceties and manners, which they consider a weakness. When Crichton attempts to auction off the wormhole knowledge in “We’re So Screwed Part I: Fetal Attraction” (4.19), it is obvious that Ahkna believes only the Scarrans are strong and wise enough to use it. She doubts the Peacekeepers or Crichton have the courage to use such a weapon. Ahkna shows her contempt for others as she tortures Scorpius for wormhole knowledge, after which she uses her heat probe ability on Crichton to find any knowledge he might possess. She even risks the detonation of the nuclear device he is using to protect himself from attack by either the Peacekeepers or the Scarrans. When Crichton refuses to give her the knowledge, and the nuclear bomb is about to detonate, Crichton still will not give in. Ahkna cannot believe Crichton would kill himself to protect the wormhole knowledge. She calls him “insane” because she cannot fathom killing herself. She typifies the Scarran egocentrism that leads them to do evil. They do not really know their limits beyond a belief in their invulnerability, similar to the characteristic belief in teenagers who subscribe to their “personal fable” of invincibility. Nowhere is this portrayed better than by Staleek.

  Staleek is the Emperor of the Scarrans and a shrewd leader. He is supremely convinced that his race deserves to rule the galaxy. He has secured the races of the Charrids and Kalish as servants to the Scarran Empire. When Crichton arrives at Katratzi, Staleek believes he is perhaps there to rescue Scorpius, but in his mind, he cannot believe someone would risk his life to save another. He quips, “Why would Crichton risk so much to rescue an ally?” (4.20). Staleek shows a lack of empathy, and a lack of knowledge of friendship or companionship. Unable to understand his enemies or obtain the wormhole knowledge, Staleek becomes even more frustrated by his own discordance between his world view of his race and his ability to achieve his goals. As Koehn points out,

  We implicitly want what will satisfy us in an abiding way. Only something that provides lasting satisfaction is truly good. And there’s the rub. Although each of us strives for satisfaction, our unexamined desires contain the germ of dissatisfaction. Lacking self-knowledge we pursue what appears good but fails to end our cravings [239–240].

  This is a valuable lens through which to view Staleek, and Scarrans in general, because they have a need to prove themselves superior. It permeates their rhetoric throughout the series. But their desires ultimately are self-destructive, and thus they perform evil. In the final moments of The Peacekeeper Wars, as his flagship, The Decimator, is about to be destroyed by the expanding wormhole, Emperor Staleek refuses to acknowledge that his Scarran world view has betrayed him. The film is riveting as his ship hangs upon the event horizon of the wormhole singularity. Staleek has an epiphany that suggests the possibility of peace—an antithetical belief to the Scarrans—is ultimately better than destruction. Staleek shows us that Scarrans are capable of self-knowledge though, and he utters the single word, “Peace.”

  Conclusion

  In this essay, I have shown how viewing Farscape through the lens of the Wisdom Tradition brings a more nuanced interpretation of the characters than simply seeing them as good guys and bad guys. The psychological aspects of the characters that I have examined in the chapter clearly show a lack of developed identity in Crichton, Aeryn, Scorpius, Emperor Staleek, and Minister Ahkna. The evil that arises in the series can be blamed in large part on the lack of self-knowledge of the characters. Only with the potential destruction of the galaxy as the wormhole expands in the climactic sequence in The Peacekeeper Wars are the characters forced to examine their motives and truly face themselves. In so doing, the characters gain a self-knowledge that fundamentally changes them for the better. As the series ends, Crichton, Aeryn, Scorpius, and the Scarrans are at peace—not only in the galaxy, but with themselves.

  Notes

  1. In Trillion Year Spree (Atheneum, 1986), the fascinating history of Science Fiction, Brian Aldiss remarks on these two conflicting traditions: “Where The Lord of the Rings is like SF is in the way the heroes are almost all good (even Boromir), and evil is externalized and defeated—something which we know does not happen in real life, for evil is within us” (262).

  2. For a more thorough discussion of Aeryn Sun’s character, see Sherry Ginn’s Our Space, Our Place: Women in the Worlds of Science Fiction (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2005) and her essay on female community, this collection.

  3. In dealing with Scorpius’ character, I was influenced greatly by Zweig and Wolf’s Romancing the Shadow: Illuminating the Dark Side of the Soul (New York: Ballantine, 1997) and Gregory Desilet’s Our Faith in Evil (Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland, 2006).

  4. Land of the Lost (1974–1976) was a children’s television show featuring the Marshall family who had inadvertently crossed a portal into a world filled with strange creatures. The Marshall family was menaced by reptilian creatures called the Sleestak who were vicious, but dimwitted creatures. Crichton parallels the Marshall family in that he passed through the wormhole into a galaxy filled with strange creatures, and he is menaced by reptilian creatures, the Scarrans. Crichton’s intentional use of “Sleestak” to refer to Staleek should be taken a
s an insult.

  Works Cited

  Aristotle. The Nicomachean Ethics. Trans. David Ross. Ed. Lesley Brown. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. Print.

  Battis, Jes. Investigating Farscape: Uncharted Territories of Sex and Science Fiction. New York: I. B. Tauris, 2007. Print.

  Baumeister, Roy F., Laura Smart, and Joseph M. Boden. “Relation of Threatened Egotism to Violence and Aggression: The Dark Side of High Self-Esteem.” Psychological Review 103.1 (1996): 5–33. Print.

  Jung, Carl. The Portable Jung. Trans. R. F. C. Hull. Ed. Joseph Campbell. New York: Penguin, 1976. Print.

  Koehn, Daryl. The Nature of Evil. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Print.

  Le Guin, Ursula K. “The Child and the Shadow.” The Language of the Night. San Francisco: Perennial, 1993. Print.

  Smith, Huston. The World’s Religions. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991. Print.

  The Emperor’s New Farts

  Socioeconomic Disenfranchisement and “Colonic Miasma”

  Michael G. Cornelius

  Chiana: You little toad! You had to go and fart helium now?

  Rygel: I’m nervous, it happens. We’re in court, so sue me!—“Dream a Little Dream” 2.8

  The disparate individuals who travel together on Moya in the science-fiction television series Farscape are exiles. Reflecting heterogeneous cultures, physiologies, and quiddities, this divergent group of travelers is nonetheless united by their status as refugees, disconnected from their mother worlds by space, circumstance, politics, and war. As a result of their common condition, they also share a status as socioeconomically disenfranchised peoples, individuals who are no longer able to participate in the larger social and economic apparatuses that drive their respective home cultures. They are the proverbial strangers in a strange land, made all the more unfamiliar to the other, and to the audience, by their unique compositions. The early episodes of Farscape are largely about discovering, being discomfited by, and learning to live with such differences, for both human astronaut John Crichton as well as the audience, who identifies with and considers action largely through the gaze of the very human protagonist at the heart of a very alien narrative.

  All the characters experience socioeconomic disenfranchisement from their mother worlds and cultures in some form or another. Peacekeeper Aeryn Sun is cast off by her own people, removed from the very power structure that shapes this part of the galaxy; Zhaan was a high-level, high-ranking priest amongst her peoples before she was forced out for the heretical nature of her views (and for high crimes as well); D’Argo was a soldier in a race of warrior people who must now reconstruct his identity amongst a group of individuals who value his skills but value peace more, while also contending with that fact that Aeryn Sun was a member of a far-more-successful warrior caste. Even Crichton, whose exile is accidental, becomes socioeconomically disenfranchised when he reaches Moya. The son of fame and privilege, who exults in an occupation (astronaut) and position highly valued by his society, Crichton must now contend with being the individual most noted for being disconnective to the time and place he now resides.

  Yet no member of Moya’s ramshackle family more reflects socioeconomic disenfranchisement than the former Emperor Dominar Rygel XVI, previous ruler of the Hynerian Empire and once overlord to six hundred billion people. Overthrown by his cousin Bishon, Rygel represents the ultimate in socioeconomic disenfranchisement. His movement from potentate to prisoner, from luxury to table scraps, from utter autonomy to absolute restriction, reflects an enormous shift in both social and economic status, and impacts not only his construct of his self but also the means through which Rygel is able to express his self as well. Though Rygel still luxuriates in all forms of excess, his most immediate concerns are his own survival, both physiologically and politically, and as such his transformation from ruler to ruled is both complete and absolute. To paraphrase Shakespeare, truly heavy is the head that no longer wears the crown.

  A popular recurring gag on Farscape involves Rygel’s propensity for flatulence. When anxious, Hynerians excrete gaseous helium from their bowels, which not only results in the sound of flatus but has the unfortunate side effect of raising the voices of those in proximity to Rygel’s anus. The farting is designed, of course, not only for comedic impact, but as a means of reducing Rygel’s inflated sense of selfhood. Because they are produced by anxiety, Rygel’s farts usually occur in groups of people, and often during moments of tense confrontation; the funnier, of course, for the audience, and the more derisory for those around Rygel, both friend and foe alike. Of course, it is also satisfying that a being as self-important and ostentatious as Rygel endures constant bouts of humiliation (there is a reason the word “flatulence” is also a synonym for “pomposity”). In the show, Rygel is both self-conscious of his flatulence (as noted in the epigraph to this paper, where he rounds on Chiana for pointing out his farting) and suffers for it (usually in the form of name-calling and reduced status). It is evident that, as well as being simply comedic, Rygel’s farting is designed to render him low, to (literally) “take the air out of him” and bring him out of the realm of the royal and more firmly ally him, socioeconomically speaking, with the other exiles aboard Moya. Yet, interestingly, Rygel’s farting ultimately reflects not only his own need for physical excess, it also produces the unintended effect of “humanizing” the former despot, rendering him not only low but also, in a way, reminding his fellow exiles that he is, indeed, despite his actions and sometime statements to the contrary, one of them.

  Farting is base humor; it is comic, it is bawdy, and, almost universally, viewed as a production of low, popular culture. A good example of this is the anonymous early eighteenth-century poem “A Fart” or “Upon a Fart:”

  Gentlest Blast of ill concoction,

    Reverse of high ascending Belch,

  The only stink abhord by Scotch men

    Beloved & practiced by the Welch [in Nickels and O’Neill 1–4].

  “A Fart” is a burlesque of the poem “A Sigh” by Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea. Burlesque is a genre that attempts to treat high art and popular culture as if it were one and the same. A burlesque is usually designed to take a work that is considered highbrow, exultant, and rarified and bring it crashing back to earth. Thus the more esteemed a masterpiece, the more trivial its excesses and estimations become in the burlesque. Geoffrey Chaucer wrote a burlesque, a work designed to bring low the highest genre of his day; the same is true of Miguel de Cervantes, Alexander Pope, and Jonathan Swift. In all their burlesques, the goal was to make the high, low; to take that which was eminent and deconstruct it to the point of idiocy, as “A Fart” does to “A Sigh.” The genius of these comic burlesques is found exactly in that desire, to trample on what so many others deem to be serious, to eschew the artistic conventions of the day in favor of works that were often cringe-worthy in their greatness. Such works are called travesties, as if to name them after what high culture must have deigned these texts to be.

  In Farscape, farting works to burlesque the figure of Rygel, or at least Rygel’s self-constructed version of his own character. It is difficult to maintain one’s dignity when one is continually forced to commit acts of physiology that are considered ill-bred and vulgar. This is especially true considering the anal nature of Rygel’s action. Tiffany Beechy writes of the anus that

  even in pre-psychoanalytic, high/low models of human psychology, the anus often opposes the head: reason and virtue have their seat in the “higher” region of the upper body, while lust, meanness, and mortal flesh all lurk “down there.” The anus is the primal locus, then, of evil, the antithesis to the thesis, the grave as opposed to birth portal [73].

  Rygel is one of the more difficult characters on Farscape. He is greedy and demanding. A committed sensualist, Rygel constantly seeks to indulge his lusts for food, precious objects, and other carnal/carnival pleasures. Russian philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin describes the carnivalesque as that which twists, mutates, or
perverts societal norms and standards. Bakhtin believed carnival culture infuses high culture with a sense of mirth and riotous excess, a “temporary suspension of all hierarchic distinctions and barriers among men ... and the prohibitions of usual life” (15). One can visit the (metaphoric) carnival, but choosing to habituate within is a symptom of a deficient character, reflective of a need to continually indulge the senses at the expense of loftier, more idealized, more “human/e” pursuits. The carnival is the opposite of all that is good, decent, and staid, and in continually inhabiting such realms of excess, so is Rygel. This suggests that his farting is particularly germane to his identity, since, as Beechy points out, not only was “the anus the site of evil and inversion, but also, more specifically ... the site of greed. In medieval theology both greed and sodomitical behaviors were related to luxuria, or excessive desire” (73). Farting thus marks Rygel, much as the brand identifies Cain or the scarlet letter Hester Prynne, for his sins and excesses.

  Yet as much as Rygel longs for the continual surfeit of the carnival, the world he now inhabits is very different from the Hynerian court. Interestingly, because of his disenfranchisement from his former socioeconomic status, Rygel must now—and for the first time—actively participate in his own social and economic existences as well. From the very first episode of Farscape, Rygel acts as the key negotiator for the crew’s needs, bartering no longer for goods of luxury but the necessities of survival: food, technology, information. His modest stature often indicates that he is best for making key repairs; and on more than one occasion, his diplomatic skills and connections come in handy and save the crew. Like all the other individuals onboard Moya, Rygel eventually conforms to the familial structure that such space dictates, not only for survival, but also for socioeconomic re-enfranchisement. In short, in order to get on, Rygel must change.