Resurrection stories are stories about death, where the death takes place in the middle. As lives, careers, relationships, and projects give in to entropy, we’re increasingly fixated on two ideas: our knowledge of certain doom, and our remembrance of a time when we lacked that knowledge. The birthday celebration of a man who could not die masks the more ancient ritual acknowledging the inevitability of winter. Which is to say: death.
Everybody dies. But everybody also sleeps, forgets, hungers, and thirsts: emptinesses that can be filled. We all want to wake up, to remember, to eat, to drink. To come back from the dead.