Timeless Love – Connecting “Interstellar” with “I’m Waiting for You” Pt.2 (continuation of Part 1)

And yet, for the sake of Love, the protagonists in both stories are willing to sacrifice the comforts of home to experience the pain of loneliness.  In the words of Friedrich Nietzsche, “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”  And so, even in the darkest reaches of space, Hope springs eternal. For the protagonist in “I’m Waiting for You,” the darkness of space mirrors his growing despair.  Consciously and subconsciously, he is hyper aware of the passage of time and the diminishing probability that he will ever see his fiance again.  

Still, he endures beatings, crushing boredom, and painful bouts of nihilistic uncertainty to march relentlessly forward in his quest to find his lover.  The power of love seems to provide existential sustenance, even when he is staring wide-eyed into the abyss.  Cooper undergoes similar sacrifices, but his love story has a dual nature: He loves his daughter, Murph, but he sacrifices the time he has to spend with her to go out into space on his mission to save humanity.  His love for humanity– his almost messianic sense of calling– helps him to endure the heart-wrenching agony of leaving his family behind.  Cooper’s teammate, Dr. Amelia Brand, eloquently explains, “I’m drawn across the Universe to someone I haven’t seen in a decade, who I know is probably dead.  Love is the one thing that we are capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.  Maybe we should trust that, even if we can’t understand it yet.”  

Dr. Brand’s statement foreshadows Cooper’s dimension-bending experience in the tesseract, where his love for his daughter drives him to pierce through time and space to communicate the quantum data needed to solve the gravity equation– thus saving humanity.  

In “I’m Waiting for You,” the thematic fingerprints of “Interstellar” are readily apparent.  And yet, Kim Bo-young brings a uniquely Korean sensibility to the sci-fi genre.  Sandwiched between the warring factions of Japan and China, Korea is historically scarred with tragedy, culminating in its 1945 split from its Northern brethren.  Families and lovers too were torn apart– the collateral damage of history.  Koreans remain well acquainted with suffering; and the bitterness etched into the Korean psyche bears itself out in its K-dramas and literary art forms.  

Kim Bo-young’s story resonates with Korean sensibilities, as it broodingly meditates on the heartache and sacrifice inherent in love and separation.  While it is a metaphor for the human condition, it is also a bleak geopolitical metaphor for the Korean condition.  And yet, both “Interstellar” and “I’m Waiting for You” defiantly suggest that resignation is not an option.  “Interstellar” repeatedly alludes to the poem by Dylan Thomas, “Do not go gentle into that good night,” which exhorts humanity to “rage, rage against the dying of the light”; and Kim Bo-young’s story also suggests that even when confronted with a supposed “no-win” scenario, moral courage and stoic self-determination can save the day.  

Near the conclusion, the protagonist recalls his fiance’s defiant words, “If you’re not here at the port, I’ll go to the wedding venue.  Even if I’m on my own, I can go and play make-believe.”  Faced with impossible odds, and despite external circumstances, she rages against the “dying of the light.”  Powered by Love, her moral courage triumphs: Her humanity triumphs.  And at last, there is a glimmer of golden hope.