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How The Titanic Haunts Us

We have good reason to remember the story of what happened to hubristic rich people, and the imprisoned poor, in an enormous opulent floating palace.

The grotesque differences between life on the upper and lower decks before and during the tragedy are vividly dramatized in the 1997 James Cameron film, which is remarkable for putting class differences at the center of its narrative. Cameron’s Titanic, telling the story of a fictitious romance between Rose the socialite from the first-class cabins and Jack the poor artist in steerage, may actually be the most Marxist film of the 90s. It is certainly one of the only major pop culture objects from the Clinton years to starkly portray the inhumanity of the class system. In fact, it’s almost too crude and cartoonish: the poor are cheerful, noble, and overflowing with culture, while the rich are mostly repulsive and out-of-touch. (Rose’s industrialist fiancé calls Jack “filth” and declares flatly that “We are royalty.”) But if you want a film that shows as bluntly as possible why wealth inequality is disgusting,Titanic, with its dancing proletarians and snooty bourgeois, could in parts have been scripted by the Industrial Workers of the World

The class divide was real, of course. But one of the reasons the disaster has had such lasting cultural resonance is that it offers many other possible “lessons” as well. As the (excellent) Wikipedia article on the ship’s pop culture afterlife notes, the sinking was uncommonly like some kind of morality play:

“[The Titanic has been seen as] somewhere between a Greek and an Elizabethan tragedy; the theme of hubris, in the form of wealth and vaingloriousness, meeting an indifferent Fate in a final catastrophe is very much one that is drawn from classical Greek tragedies. The story also matches the template for Elizabethan tragedians with its episodes of heroism, comedy, irony, sentimentality and ultimately tragedy. In short, the fact that the story can so easily be seen as fitting an established dramatic template has made it hard not to interpret it that way… The disaster has been called ‘an event that in its tragic, clockwork-like certainty stopped time and became a haunting metaphor’—not just one metaphor but many… ‘conflicting metaphors, each vying to define the disaster’s broader social and political significance, to insist that here was the true meaning, the real lesson.’ … Some viewed it in religious terms as a metaphor for divine judgement over what they saw as the greed, pride and luxury on display in the ship. Others interpreted it as a display of Christian morality and self-sacrifice among those who stayed aboard so that women and children might escape. It could be seen in social terms as conveying messages about class or gender relations… Such a wide range of interpretations has ensured that the disaster has been the subject of popular debate and fascination for decades.”