Just over three years ago, we mentioned Michaelangelo in one of our columns. As long as the ceiling remains on the Sistine Chapel or his statue of David survives, he will be remembered as one of the great artists of the world.
Perhaps a month before that, we had talked about Thomas Alva Edison, whose legacy lies in his inventions. Audio and video recording have advanced so far since he created them that little of his technology is used in it, yet even as we listen to digitized recreations of music and watch digital video disc recordings we are indebted to his pioneering efforts, and those who are informed remember him because of these inventions.
Nearly a year later, we met a man named Kahanamaku, because his picture appeared on a postage stamp. His contribution to the world is that he was a surfer, but an extraordinary one, the father of Hawaiian surfing. He is gone (United States postal regulations specify that living persons cannot appear on postage stamps), but his memory not only remains but has spread to reach at least some of us whose hobby is not surfing but gaming, because he was a famous surfer.
Others have left more dramatic marks on civilization. Nebuchadnezzar, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Genghis Kahn, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, and Napoleon Bonaparte are all known names today because they achieved great military victories and built kingdoms or even empires on their successes. They will not be forgotten soon.
Even some who are forgotten have left their mark on the world. Napoleon had great military victories in Europe. Although the map of the continent has not retained much of his changes, he has still changed the world. He, the man who said that an army travels on its stomach, gave us canning, thanks to the work of Nicholas Appert–a name that is not a household word, but a chemist whose invention in one form or another has brought food to most of the world. Napoleon is also responsible for the creation and proliferation of the metric system, which has conquered much of the world despite those of us who still cling to the quaint and colorful English system.
For some, what they leave behind is their own fame. As we considered in Prestige a year ago, this alone can be a significant motivation.
Not so long ago we discussed basic motivations that inspire characters to take risks and undertake quests, to set and accomplish great goals. We then were discussing how to design a McGuffin, that object in the story that for whatever reason everyone wants. In that discussion reference was made to the motivation of pride of reputation. The fact is, most people want to make a difference in the world. We want to leave our mark on the world after we are gone. Our tombstones will bear mute testimony to the fact that we were here, but we want someone to recall some contribution we made to what remains. We want to have mattered, to have lived a life that changed the world, even if only in a small way that impacts a few people for a few generations.
To some, this legacy is found in wealth left behind, the founding of funds or charities or scholarships or prizes which bear our name and touch the lives of others. Many are authors of books, hoping to change the world through the written word, or at least to be remembered for it as long as Poe, or maybe Shakespeare, or possibly Chaucer, or dare they even hope Homer. Contributors to philosophy and science may not all achieve the fame of a Nietzsche or a Newton, but Camus and Crick prove that it is still possible to be remembered for such work.
For vast numbers, immortality is seen through children, descendants who will have descendants, with the hope that in a few generations they will still remember something about their ancestors. Yet even if the ancestors are forgotten, the success of their descendants is made possible by them. “My father was not a failure,” Harry Truman said of a man who had failed at more businesses than most people ever attempt and who died believing himself a failure. “After all, he was the father of a president of the United States.” In some ways, children are an opportunity to impact future generations.
In a similar way, we impact the future through our influence on those with whom we interact. The Reverend Doctor J. Edwin Orr’s name is not familiar to many people despite his several doctorates and substantial contributions to nonfiction literature. He is known, though, to the Reverend Doctor Billy Graham, and helped him through a critical moment in his life in a way that enabled Billy Graham to begin his ministry. Part of Doctor Orr’s legacy is the worldwide work of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. The lives we touch will touch others; we may have far greater impact on the future than we imagine. Ask any schoolteacher the reason for that career choice, and you will almost always hear a tale of another schoolteacher.
The desire to be remembered, to make a difference, to leave something behind when we are gone–this seems to be a basic human drive, something that infects everyone, in one form or another. Consider how it infects your character, and what he will do in his life to create that legacy.
I am reminded of a very short poem. A quick search of the Internet revealed that it is frequently quoted, but without citing an author, so I shall again quote it uncredited:
Only one life, ’twill soon be past;
Only what’s done for Christ will last.
It may be that some legacies are eternal, and that characters who perceive the possibility of such a legacy will eschew anything less. We all want to be remembered in some way, to have left our impact on the world. How our characters wish to do that is within our control, and worth considering in the choices they make.
Next week, something different.
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M. Joseph Young is co-author of Multiverser and Vice President for Development at Valdron Inc. His many contributions to online literature are indexed for convenience, and he looks forward to discussing these things by e-mail or on our Gaming Outpost forums.
