Some of the very best material arrives in narrator Gabriel Byrne’s (through Shen and Bennick’s writing) words when he reads, “Human beings find themselves in quite the predicament. We have the mental capacity to ponder the infinite — seemingly capable of anything. Yet, housed in a heart-pumping, breath-gasping, decaying body, we are godly, yet creaturely.” Likewise, Professor Sheldon Solomon exudes brilliance (through his terror management theory and mortality salience hypothesis) in nearly every word that leaves his lips.
At its weakest, Flight from Death loses its intimate connection when it goes global in its “Annihilation,” “Looking for Evil,” and “Violence Inherent” chapters. While these portions clarify the violence involved in the flight response, the segments that focus on a personal view of death anxiety are more profound than the attempts to paint the vast, cross-cultural picture.
In the long run, Flight from Death will cause you to dig deeper into the words of Ernest Becker, marinate in the thoughts of its writers, and seriously consider traveling afar to listen to the intensely engaging Professor Sheldon Solomon. It’s full of beautiful images of grave sites, landscapes, and sunrises juxtaposed with brutal images of murder, violence, and outright shameful hatred. It’s both eye-opening and daunting.
Just as certain as death itself, one thing’s for sure: Flight from Death will never lose its relevance. At times, it’s so utterly philosophical, didactic, and life-affirming that one can’t help but to submit to its intrigue and run to recommend it to every fellow sentient being. After all, “meaningful connections with other people make us feel fully alive and vibrant.”
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