So you’re telling me that the Jedi and the whole Force-based religion thing has been around for thousands of years, in a galaxy with a huge population and immense diversity of culture, and there’s never once been a schism or a splinter group or another group of light side-aligned sentients who aren’t in some way affiliated with the Jedi? That it’s Jedi vs. Sith right down through history?
Come on. You can do better than that.
Somewhere in the galaxy there’s a culture that regards Force ghosts as the most important part of the whole business and has developed a kind of ancestor veneration, one where your Force-using ancestors occasionally pop up and give advice and watch your progress. People regard them with a mix of reverence and fondness because they’re old (some of them are very old indeed) and wise and so on, but also they’re family.
Somewhere in the galaxy there’s a planet whose sun burns so hot that few living things can survive on the surface during the day, where the people live in houses dug out and swept like burrows and live their lives after nightfall, when the harsh sun sets and a warm wind blows off the nearest large body of water and fills the air with moisture again so they can breathe without masks–and what they call the Light or Day Side is blinding, burning, impetuous, controlled by the passions, fierce and unforgiving, and it consumes its users like a pool of water at noon, and what they call the Dark or Night Side is calm, warm, perceptive, not easily understood, but nurtures life–not just survival–and encourages the search for truth.
Somewhere in the galaxy there’s a culture with a pantheon, like we think of the Greek and Roman pantheons, only these gods sometimes bless ordinary people or families with gifts beyond mortal ken, gifts that connect them to the world and the life around them but also make them powerful and perilous.
Somewhere in the galaxy there’s a culture that focuses on the the “energy field created by all living things” part, that teaches respect for all living things, that speaks of the Force as our essential connection to the rest of the world, that honors the life/soul/spirit in everything the Force touches, a little like we think of animism or nature spirit based religions.
As it stands, religion in the Star Wars universe seems to be a large helping of pop-Buddhist philosophy ladeled into a… kinda medieval Catholic structure (holy orders of knights, monastic robes, material poverty as a discipline for individuals but the order having lots of power and influence anyway, self-discipline to celibacy, the Temple being basically Space Vatican)? Plus some Space Atheists, both the condescending kind (”your sad devotion to that ancient religion…”) and the skeptical/free-will/rebellious kind (”there’s no mystical energy field that controls my destiny!”).
That’s great–it’s an interesting combination. But there could be so much more variety and richness. (Definitely more than I’ve come up with here.)
Well, there are always the Witches of Dathomir. (Or, were, I guess. Since the EU has been scrapped.)
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Witches_of_Dathomir
anakin: *gestures at C-3PO* i have made a Droid
padmé: you fucked up a perfectly good robot is what you did. look at it. it’s got anxiety
i. he touches you and you tremble at the pressure, but you don’t really want him to stop. keep going, keep going, keep going. you wonder if he knows that your heart is bursting from your chest, that your blood is made of firecrackers.
ii. they take him from you and the explosion in your veins burns out, a tidal wave over a flame. you will not stop until you get him back. you will kill them all before you will let him go forever. ( he didn’t say he loved you, too, but you already know. )
iii. he asks you who you are and you have to stop and think. who are you? angry, royal, tired, lonely. you could say any of those, but instead you stick with “someone who loves you”. it’s a much kinder truth.
iv. the first time he told you he loved you was in the middle of a battle, a blaster in your hands and a wound at your shoulder. perhaps this is why he screams it at you in the middle of this one, the battle that rages inside your house. you scream it back, tears streaming down your cheeks. they don’t stop. even when he kisses you and you know he’s not leaving yet. even when you know that neither are you.
v. when he does leave in the aftermath of it all, when you’re both trying to stop the bleeding and shake the trauma, you do not beg him to stay. there is nothing left for him here. not even the woman he fell in love with. ( you are just a shell. )
vi. the last time you see him, he holds you against his chest and his heart is beating like yours was when he kissed you for the first time.
vii. you should have killed them all before you let him go forever. ( sometimes, it’s just not that easy. )
oh, princess, you were never drawn to “nice men”. ( s.g. )
