I just finished another book; End of Eternity, by Isaac Asimov. I know, you immediately thought about the movie with the couple rolling around on the beach. That’s From Here to Eternity. They were copying Asimov. Ha ha, I don’t actually know that. I haven’t seen the movie, nor do I have a strong desire to see the movie - except that I kind of want to write a book comparing the movie and the book, which as far as I know have nothing to do with each other except the word “Eternity” in the title. But I would argue very strongly in the book that From Here to Eternity was a subtle ripoff of Asimov’s End of Eternity. I would call the book “Battle of the ‘Eternity’s”. Note the punctuation. I would begin the book as a Critical Theory Tour de Force. In Chapter One I would discuss my own bodily functions and hang ups, then I’d smoothly transition to whatever similar issues the characters in the movie share with characters in the book. The personal details in Chapter One would jar the casual Reader of Critical Theory, but as the book transitioned to an actual battle, in my mind, as detailed by its effect on my daily habits, the Reader would begin to realize that in fact I had never intended to write a Critical Theory book. Those few readers who would ever think to purchase a Critical Theory book with the intent to read it would feel cheated. They would hopefully go online to post vengeful reviews that would explain the execrable dishonesty of the book in detail.
I’d be willing to bet that the outrage burning in their souls would flame through the stifling objectivity lashed into their verbal cortex by years of Lit classes, enabling them to compose insulting and mean-spirited and delightfully readable diatribes, all inextricably connected to the book in online searches.
In the epilogue I would admit that From Here To Eternity came out in 1953, two years prior to the publication of End of Eternity, and that although Asimov might have come up with the central concept of End of Eternity years before, it is extremely doubtful that whoever wrote From Here to Eternity could have known anything about it.
I would add a postscript to the epilogue with an additional confession for readers who hadn’t ever seen From Here to Eternity, admitting that I haven’t seen it either, and that the scenes referred to earlier in the book and ascribed to From Here to Eternity were not actually in the movie.
In the same postscript I would admit that while I had read End of Eternity, many if not all of the extracts purported to be taken from the book were as fictional as those I pretended to take from the movie.
At this point in the blog post I would like to assure the reader that I have no intention to submit “Battle of the Eternities” for publication in book or novel form, and that I have destroyed the proofs and all drafts and that I intend to fully comply with all terms of the settlement.
“Battle of the Eternities” is of course the title of one of five Star Trek episode scripts submitted to Paramount by Gene Roddenberry for consideration to be produced and aired during the fourth season of the series. The episode represents one of the primary examples of Roddenberry’s seminal “Crossing the Streams” concept, originating in the hyper cube of his mind some fifteen years before Terminator X popularized the DJ Remix.
The episode begins with the Captain ruminating on past relationships in the Captain’s Log. Most of the ruminations concern “Yeoman Crantor”, a relatively recent flame that the Captain admits he is reluctant to discuss with Spock. As he speaks, a dreamlike image of a woman’s unsmiling face appears over Kirk’s scowling visage. The woman possesses the elf-like ears of a Vulcan. Kirk’s reverie is broken by ship’s alarm. Spock’s harshly unpleasant voice chimes in immediately after the alarm, indicating, unnecessarily, that the ship has encountered the object they’ve been searching the quadrant for after the nearest colony’s distress signal about a large anomalous object set on a collision course with their home, and on and on, he won’t stop until Kirk issues a stinging rebuke and a reprimand that seems to finally register on his alien Vulcan mind because that’s the only way to talk to these people.
The object is a gigantic alien structure spinning slowly through space, a chunk of something much larger, almost planet-sized, with twisted metallic framing covered in ancient ice crystals. Spock is scared and wants to go home, but Kirk has had enough. He leaves the bridge and visits McCoy, delivering a verbal tongue-lashing that leaves McCoy in tears, just weeping, hysterical. Kirk doesn’t slap him because of the recent disciplinary hearings. But he insists that McCoy join them in their exploration of the object. He takes the ship transporter to the floor below McCoy’s office, where he sees the door to Yeoman Crantor’s quarters at the end of the hallway. Kirk wanders around the hallway like an angry chimp. He ignores the calls to his breast logo and keeps an eye on Yeoman Crantor’s door. He angrily accosts any crew members emerging into the hallway from their quarters, demanding to know their names and rank and proper whereabouts. Then he gets a text from Spock that begins; “Jim, I know you’re scared…” Spock means emotionally scared because he knows about Kirk’s relationship troubles, but Kirk takes it as a provocation. He runs to the elevator. He means to surprise Spock on the bridge with his patented two-fisted thunder punch. The elevator takes too long, so Kirk takes the stairs, taking three steps at a time until he’s bent over, gasping for breath. He’s too late to catch Spock on the bridge, so he hurries to the transporter room. Spock and McCoy and Yeoman Crantor are waiting on the circles. Kirk glares at Spock, but he walks with quiet dignity to his circle. Before they beam down, he informs McCoy that he has been demoted to Yeoman, and that Yeoman Crantor is now the ship’s doctor. “But Captain, I cannot heal,” Doctor Crantor says.
“Neither can I,” Kirk says softly.
They find two alien skeletons in one of the rooms in the object, intertwined in what Kirk interprets as a lover’s embrace, but Doctor Crantor deduces is in fact the final stage of a grim struggle to the death.
Their argument grows heated, with McCoy egging them on until Spock administers a Vulcan grip to the Yeoman’s left eye socket. Kirk lunges at Spock, but Doctor Crantor administers a Vulcan grip to Kirk, removing his shirt in the process. They collapse together, their bodies entwined in a fashion intriguingly similar to the contorted alien skeletons. Scotty beams them all back at once, humans and Vulcans and alien skeletons together. Back on the enterprise, Kirk commands Crantor to keep the skeletons in her quarters, as a reminder of “what might have been.”
The last shot is of Crantor lying glamorously in her bed, gazing across her bedroom to a museum style exhibit with a placard reading “love is what you make it”. The camera pans to a clear shot of the skeletons, their hands at each other’s throats. One of them wears a crumpled black robe. The other has Darth Vader’s helmet on.
The credits roll to a jazzier version of the Star Wars theme, and end with a special note of thanks and tribute to the guy that played McCoy, making it crystal clear that the character passed away during the episode. The note also makes it clear that he passed away as a Yeoman, not as a doctor
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