[Ed. Note: for more recent thoughts on this theme after the series finale, see "More on Lost and Dante's Island Down Under".]
During seasons 1 and 2 of Carlton Cuse's and Damon Lindelof's Lost, I would put up the random post when a particular episode grabbed me, but it became clear after a while that the writers were operating at a level of complexity that made it futile, for me anyway, to try to grasp what they were trying to do. So I decided to go along for the ride and see where they wanted to take us. Well, we're in the final season, and there are six more hours to go, and because a clearer picture, more or less, is emerging, I'll be posting again about Lost as the series draws to a close.
The narrative has become extraordinarily convoluted, but I think in a good and interesting way. Nevertheless, it's hard to believe that in the six remaining hours all shall be made clear. We'll see. I'm more interested in the overarching narrative pattern than trying to parse out the show's many subthemes, and I think the pattern of that basic story is finally taking shape. And in future posts I might talk more about some of the subthemes that interest me, but today I just want to talk about what I think, at this juncture anyway, that basic narrative pattern is. I also want to think out loud a bit about what the possible significance of the series might be as a cultural event: I'd argue it's the most important and ambitious of several pop-cultural attempts to help us establish an imaginative beachhead in a postmodern, post-Einsteinian world. I'll get to that, but first let me ramble a bit by reflecting on some interesting connections I see between post-Newtonian Lost and Dante's Ptolemaic Divine Comedy: