Striving for Shadows: A Hitchcockian Meditation on Frankl’s Call to Struggle

Good evening, dear reader. Imagine a person standing on the precipice of existence, a shadowed figure caught between the comfort of complacency and the harrowing call of a worthy struggle. Do they step forward into the unknown or retreat into the stillness of a tensionless state? They’re no ordinary person. They’re you. They’re me. And the precipice? That, my friend, is life itself.

Viktor Frankl once wrote, “What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather the striving and struggling for some goal worthy of him.” This provocative notion crackles with the electricity of existential unease. It's not an easy sentiment. It’s downright Hitchcockian in its implications—a world where struggle is not the villain but the very protagonist of our story.

But what does this mean for the modern Stoic? For the thinker who, like the characters in a gripping Hitchcock narrative, navigates an existence fraught with unseen dangers and unspoken fears? Let us, then, journey into the shadows of this idea, where philosophy, science fiction, and the darker hues of human experience intersect.

In the world of Hitchcock’s cinema, characters are rarely at ease. Consider the paranoid Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window or the morally tormented Cary Grant in Notorious. These characters are driven not by the pursuit of tranquility but by internal, external, or both tensions. Their lives are animated by the friction between where they are and where they must go.

Frankl’s insight aligns perfectly with this narrative device. The Stoics remind us that life is not meant to be devoid of struggle; it is the struggle that sharpens our character. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” The resistance, the tension, that forces us to become more than we are.

In a science fiction context, imagine a lone astronaut on an alien planet, driven not by the hope of rescue but by the resolve to uncover a truth that might save humanity. The tension of survival is not merely an obstacle; it is a forge for greatness.

In Hitchcockian fashion, let us consider the darker flip side: the man who avoids tension, who shirks the struggle. He lives in a world of false security, like Norman Bates in Psycho, cocooned in his illusion. Without a goal worthy of him, he stagnates, his humanity eroding as he succumbs to fear, apathy, or despair.

The Stoics warn of this danger. Seneca wrote, “It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult.” A life without striving—without daring—is no life at all. It is a shadow existence, an imitation of vitality.

In the speculative lens of science fiction horror, such a character might exist in a dystopia where all struggle has been eradicated by technology. Without conflict, they grow listless and unmoored until the creeping dread of purposelessness consumes them entirely.

Hitchcock’s thrillers and the broader narratives of speculative fiction echo the Stoic call to strive. A worthy goal is not handed to the protagonist; it must be fought for. Whether it is James Stewart unraveling the mystery in Vertigo or a ragtag crew battling alien invaders in deep space, the journey is never easy. And yet, it is this very journey that defines them.

For the modern Stoic, this means embracing life’s challenges with the mindset of a Hitchcockian hero—or antihero. Tension, struggle, and uncertainty are not enemies. They are the stage, the spotlight, and the script. To reject them is to reject the story itself.

And so, dear reader, let us return to the precipice. You stand there, the wind howling, the shadows lengthening. Behind you lies the illusion of ease. Before you, the unknown. Do you dare step forward? Do you embrace the striving and struggling for a goal worthy of you? Or will you retreat, allowing the quiet but insidious specter of purposelessness to claim you?

As Hitchcock might have said, “There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.” The bang—your worthy struggle—awaits. The question is, will you let it sound?

Good night, and good luck with your striving.