Night-Sea Journey by John Barth
"Night-Sea Journey" by John Barth is a literary exploration presented as an interior monologue of a spermatozoon swimming toward an ovum. The text serves as a philosophical meditation on the nature of existence, where the protagonist grapples with profound questions about identity and the realities of life. Through this allegory, Barth examines various ontological theories and theodicies, pondering the metaphysical dilemma of whether the external world exists independently of perception.
The swimmer oscillates between despair and hope, reflecting on the existential absurdity of human struggle while rejecting comforting notions such as a predestined purpose or a benevolent creator. He critiques common philosophical viewpoints, including Camus' concept of finding value in struggle, suggesting that swimming is often tiresome and unfulfilling. The narrative also confronts the darker possibilities of existence, proposing that creators may be indifferent or even antagonistic to the plight of swimmers.
Ultimately, Barth's work invites readers to contemplate the cyclical nature of existence and the interplay between creation and destruction, leaving them with lingering questions about meaning and purpose in a seemingly chaotic world. This dense and thought-provoking text may appeal to those interested in philosophy, existentialism, and the interplay of life and creation.
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Night-Sea Journey by John Barth
First published: 1966
Type of plot: Allegory
Time of work: Anytime
Locale: Anywhere
Principal Character:
The swimmer , a spermatozoan, representative of all humankind
The Story
Story and theme are one and the same in this interior monologue by a spermatozoan swimming toward an ovum. He announces immediately that "it's myself I address" and that he has two aims: to "rehearse" the human condition and to disclose his "secret hope." As he considers his existence (and humankind's), he evaluates the various ontologies, or theories of being, that philosophers have conjured up; he meditates as well on some common, and uncommon, theodicies, or explanations of why the world is the way it is. He raises first the insoluble metaphysical conundrum represented in versions of epistemological idealism: Because one can know the world only through one's senses, does the external world really exist? As the swimmer puts it, "Do the night, the sea, exist at all? Do I myself exist, or is this a dream?" His answer is only conditional and raises another question: "And if I am, who am I?" Is he the "Heritage"—both genetic and cultural—that he carries?
He admits to his vacillation. At times he feels drawn toward the religious-humanistic faith that swimmers have a "common Maker" who has created the world with a master plan, but then the existential absurdity of his undertaking strikes him as he witnesses the many who perish as he flails on, and he suspects "that our night-sea journey is without meaning." At this point he rejects the well-known thesis of Albert Camus in "The Myth of Sisyphus," that humanity in its plight is like Sisyphus: Just as Sisyphus had to keep pushing the rock up the hill throughout eternity, always to have it roll back, so must humanity struggle against life's obstacles and find its only values and satisfactions in the struggle itself. The swimmer takes no solace in this vision of life: "Swimming itself I find at best not actively unpleasant, more often tiresome, not infrequently a torment."
Neither is he convinced by the argument from design—that because the creation reveals design and order, there must be a designer with an ultimate goal. "If the night-sea journey has justification, it is not for us swimmers ever to discover it." Even if there were a "Shore," a goal, a telos, what would it be? What would we do there? He imagines it as "the blissful state of the drowned."
The swimmer then quickly entertains some of the common options open to humankind. As for the Superman, for example, the Faustian individualist who goes his own way ruthlessly, the spermatozoan sometimes envies the forcefulness of this type and regrets his own weak vitality. The appeal, however, is short-lived: "In reasonabler moments I remind myself that it's this very freedom and self-responsibility I reject, as more dramatically absurd, in our senseless circumstances, than tailing along in conventional fashion." Other worldviews are rejected as they occur to him. The doctrine of survival of the fittest is "false as well as repellent," for it makes the night-sea journey "essentially haphazard as well as murderous and unjustified." The dandy's argument that "You only swim once" is answered with, "Why bother, then?" The swimmer quickly dismisses as "poppycock" the Christian admonition that "Except ye drown, ye shall not reach the Shore of Life."
The monologuist then ponders a number of cynical, perverse theodicies suggested to him by a "late companion." Perhaps, for example, the Maker made swimmers unknowingly and has no knowledge of their existence, or perhaps He knows and simply does not care. Perhaps the Maker even wishes swimmers unmade and is their adversary, working against their struggle to reach the shore. Worst of all, maybe the Maker is a monster whose end for swimmers is "immoral, even obscene." These visions suggest the speculations of the Marquis de Sade, of Voltaire, of Mark Twain in his most bitter moods, and of Herman Melville's famous God-hater, Captain Ahab.
In one wild conceit, thousands of Makers send millions of swimmers off into thousands of seas in which "both sea and swimmers were utterly annihilated." Occasional spermatozoa achieve a "qualified immortality," and so do the fortunate elect in theologies such as Calvinism. However, some drown at the outset and others are born damned, "created drowned," in a senseless orgy of creation that implies "impotent Creators, Makers unable to Make, as well as uncommonly fertile ones and all grades between." Another hypothesis is that Makers and swimmers generate each other, going on and on in a "cyclic process of incarnation" that constitutes their only immortality. In all these fancies, the allegory comes very close to the spermatozoa's own fate.
Bibliography
Bowen, Zack R. A Reader's Guide to John Barth. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1994.
Fogel, Stan, and Gordon Slethaug. Understanding John Barth. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1990.
Harris, Charles B. Passionate Virtuosity: The Fiction of John Barth. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1983.
Morrell, David. John Barth: An Introduction. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1976.
Schulz, Max F. The Muses of John Barth: Tradition and Metafiction from "Lost in the Funhouse" to "The Tidewater Tales." Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990.
Scott, Steven D. The Gamefulness of American Postmodernism: John Barth and Louise Erdrich. New York: Peter Lang, 2000.
Waldmeir, Joseph J., ed. Critical Essays on John Barth. Boston: G. K. Hall, 1980.
Walkiewicz, E. P. John Barth. Boston: Twayne, 1986.
Ziegler, Heide. John Barth. New York: Methuen, 1987.