Call me weird, but when Charles was coaching Erik on making the sattelite dish move, I myself tried to find my point between rage and serenity. But what does the middle way look like? How does it feel like? It appeared to me that when Charles did something to Erik's memories, he picked what was a moment of love: A memory of his mother.
Is love that point between rage and serenity? It doesn't seem so "middle" to me.
Or was Charles pointing to that point in life when Erik was still innocent and pure and not weighed down by extreme emotions?
Would asking these questions bring me any closer to my point between rage and serenity?
Perhaps, at this point, I'm more like Erik than I am Charles. But maybe that's the Scorpion in me, who tends to hold on to anger and pain.
Erik — who, as we all know, will completely assume the identity of Magneto — is easy to understand. He was a victim of the Nazis, a Jewish Holocaust survivor. If somebody was going to worry about the annihilation of the mutant race, it would be him. It is almost expected of him to aggressively protect mutants.
Towards the end of X-Men: First Class, when Erik deflects bombs from American and Russian warships that were sent to kill the mutants and sends them back, his actions were completely understandable. I'd be tempted to do the same, if I were him. I mean, I just saved the world from an effing nuclear war, and this is the thanks I get?!
But there's nothing "middle" about blasting American and Russian troops to smithereens and triggering an outright war against mutants. On the other hand, I don't see surrendering and wishing for the best as a middle ground either.
Did Charles take the middle ground? He will become Professor X, founder of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, which would eventually be the training ground for his X-Men. Instead of fighting for race dominance, he believes mutants should lie low, learn to control their mutant powers, and keep their mutant identities secret.
At this particular point, I am more like Charles, who has seen, in a bigger scope, and from a safe but informed distance, how much suffering war could cause the world for a price that doesn't seem clear.
Because he is not lost in his own anger and pain, he is more aware. "We have it in us to be the better man," he says to Erik. Perhaps that's the middle way? That peace in knowing what you are and not being too attached to what other people think?
If Erik had stopped for a minute and accepted his life as it was, bad parts and all, and realized the only truth now was that he simply was, would there be no Magneto?
Maybe I'm overthinking X-Men. In the first place, I was just hoping to enter the cinema, sit back, relax, and enjoy the movie. I wasn't expecting to think about it afterwards. But I suppose that's the strength of this particular installment of the X-Men franchise. It left me feeling for the characters — even one who would become a villain — and thinking about their choices, about what made them what they are. And, happily, this has given more color to the earlier films. It's a reboot that breathes life even into the older films.
Every day I try to find my own point between rage and serenity. When dealing with angry people, I try to find my own point between rage and serenity. But it's not always easy.
And then there's that other thing that Magneto said that's also enlightening: "If you're using half your concentration to look normal, then you're only half paying attention to whatever else you're doing."
Like I said, call me weird.
Email your comments to alricardo@yahoo.com. You can also visit my personal blog at http://althearicardo.blog spot.com. You can text your comments again to (63)917-9164421.