I recently delved into The Three-Body Problem and it’s been a transformative experience, pushing me into an existential reflection I hadn’t anticipated. The show’s premise, set against the backdrop of cosmic vastness and the relentless march of scientific progress, struck a chord that resonates deeply.
A Universe Teeming with Life and Paradox:
One of the most compelling aspects of The Three-Body Problem is its treatment of the Fermi Paradox. In this hypothetical universe, the paradox is decisively resolved: humanity is not alone. This realization, far from being a comforting thought, becomes a source of existential dread. The alien civilizations, initially open to collaboration, soon find humanity’s cultural and mental dynamics fundamentally untrustworthy. This breakdown in interstellar diplomacy leads humanity to scatter in search of a solution to an impending, perceived threat.
The Sacrifice for a Distant Future:
A poignant moment in the show involves a character who sacrifices his life so that his brain can be used in a reconnaissance mission, gathering intelligence for humanity 400 years into the future. This act of self-sacrifice for a far-off, uncertain benefit raises profound questions about legacy, memory, and the essence of human perseverance. It also resonates with a conversation I had with a friend about the ephemeral nature of our existence and the impact we leave behind.
Reflections on Mortality and Memory:
My friend once remarked, “When people die, I’m sad, but then I act like they never existed because object permanence is a bitch.” This stark perspective contrasts sharply with my own experiences of loss and memory. The memories of my father, who passed when I was six, and close friends who have died over the years, remain vivid and impactful. This divergence in perspectives made me contemplate the idea that there is indeed such a thing as knowing too much, yet not enough. It ties back to the philosophical notion of samadhi and bodhicitta — the difference between experiencing something within oneself and realizing that everything experiences what you experience.
The Weight of Ordinary Moments:
As I watched The Three-Body Problem, I couldn’t help but think about the moments that truly define a life. It’s not the grand achievements or the pivotal crossroads but the ordinary, everyday experiences that often hold the most weight. The taste of ice cream, the noise of siblings, the struggle of daily life, and the small victories — these are the moments that we carry with us, even to our final breaths. The show underscores this by highlighting the mundane alongside the monumental, reminding us that life is made up of both inextricably intertwined.
A Philosophical Journey:
The Three-Body Problem turned me into an existentialist in ways I hadn’t expected. The ideas it presents are both fascinating and terrifying, encapsulating the dual nature of human progress and the unknown vastness of the cosmos. It’s a narrative that pushes one to reflect deeply on our place in the universe and the legacy we leave behind.
Conclusion:
In essence, The Three-Body Problem is not just a sci-fi series; it’s a profound exploration of existence, memory, and the human condition. It challenges viewers to think beyond the immediate and the tangible, to ponder the infinite possibilities and the enduring impact of our actions. Whether you’re a fan of the genre or simply someone seeking a narrative that pushes boundaries, this show is a thought-provoking journey well worth taking.
Cinehorde Review 