In several creation stories throughout the world, chaos is often symbolized as a dark, formless watery void. Out of this void order is created. The ancient Egyptians called the watery abyss Nun, from which the stable land arose. In Norse myth, fire and ice commingled amid the fathomless deep; and through a great turmoil, the birth of all things came to be.
It's not always easy to put things in order. In Babylonian myth, there is a great war in heaven to try and subdue the watery, chaotic Tiamat. It turns out to be very difficult to do, but in the end, the god Marduk succeeds. He divides the body of Tiamat in two, creating the earth and sky.
| Marduk |
In Genesis, God orders the universe out of a watery chaos. Light and dark are separated; time is set in sequence; stars, land, and sea are properly organized. Thus the tidy, the neat, the trim becomes the ideal. “A place for everything, and everything in its place,” as my mother used to say. Order soon becomes the security and safety of civilization. It’s protection against the wild man-eating animals out there in the shadowy, chaotic realms.
Yet paradoxically, as dark and foreboding as chaos can seem, we seem to have a need for it. Think confetti at a parade. Wild, messy parties. Children playing in the dirt. There’s graffiti on bridges that's considered art. As a writer, I know there can be no story without chaos. Cracks have to appear in the perfect symmetry of things. There can be no plot without something going out of order. Or otherwise--borrrr--ing. Often in stories, it’s the order itself that’s evil, not the chaos. Think of Nazis or Darth Vader. They’re highly structured beings, but they’re the bad guys. In the movie V for Vendetta, the main character V could be thought of as a symbol for chaos. V is a threat to order, the totalitarian government under Adam Sutler. The movie reminds us that for a new order to establish itself, the old one must crumble, thus creating chaos.