Luckily for Atreyu, Engywook is Fantasia’s (self-proclaimed) foremost expert on the Southern Oracle. He explains there are two tests one must pass to reach his goal. And he just happens to have his telescope trained on the first test: The dreaded “Sphinx Gate”.
He invites Atreyu to accompany him to the observatory, leading to the greatest line ever committed to film:
It’s explained you can only pass the first gate if you understand your self-worth. If you doubt yourself, well, you’ll never take that necessary first step of bravery. You never commit yourself to your calling.
Engywook: Of course, most people never get that far.
And that is true– Most people never cross the Sphinx Gate. Most settle for a mundane life and don’t dedicate themselves to the vocation they love most. They don’t believe they could be that special; they don’t see their own self-worth.
Occult Lens: This narrow corridor represents The Moon tarot: the passage from the physical realm to the higher realms. Which is appropriate, as we’ll see later.
Modern Lens: I challenge you to find online discourse about this scene without someone mentioning “tiddies”.
Atreyu observes a brave soul approaching the gate. At first, it seems like the knight will be successful. But sure enough, the twin sphinxes open their glowing eyes and destroy the seemingly heroic individual.
Engywook explains even the strongest armor is no match for their twin gaze; they can peer right through it and see your heart. They can see if you really have what it takes, the desire to understand your self-worth.
Brave warrior that he is, Atreyu wastes no time and decides to challenge this gate as well. After all, the Childlike Empress’ health–and the fate of Fantasia itself–is at stake.
Engywook, of course, is shocked. He believes Atreyu should come join him in his cave and spend years cowering and studying this thing before daring to cross. After all, Atreyu doesn’t have 1/100th the knowledge Engywook does regarding this gate.
But that doesn’t stop Atreyu. He doesn’t have time for that kind of nonsense.
As he approaches, the soldier underfoot serves as a grim reminder of what may soon become of him.
And Engywook, watching from a safe distance, is beside himself in fear.
Engywook: Oh no! Don’t start to doubt yourself! Be confident!
Bastian, meanwhile, yells at the pages of the book, begging Atreyu to be confident and run.
Engywook repeats the same sentiment, almost word-for-word. Almost like Bastian’s yelling influenced the in-book characters.
Atreyu steels his nerves, builds up his confidence, and runs past, narrowly dodging certain obliteration.
It’s cause for great celebration. Engywook can’t wait to tell his wife that Atreyu has made it.
WHAT THE FIRST GATE MEANS
Atreyu succeeded because he had to. He had something at stake and was willing to face the test blind and unprepared, which meant he had the bravery necessary to proceed.
Engywook, on the other hand, wouldn’t have made it. Just like the heavily armored knight, Engywook is so overprepared that it proves he’s unsure of himself. All of Engywook’s knowledge would do about as much good as that armor did.
Now imagine, for a moment, that you’re working toward the release of your first book. That is the Sphinx Gate. The gate is big. It’s intimidating. It has seen many better and stronger than you attempt to cross it over the centuries. And it has seen just as many cower away in fear, unable to even try.
If you doubt yourself, you’ll never cross this gate.
You have to, at some point, find the confidence required to take that leap forward, or Nothing will happen. You must cross the threshold from amateur to professional author. Even though you don’t know what the other side will look like, you must one day go.
Either that, or you will stagnate, grow old, and die with an unrealized dream in your heart.
I bet you’re thinking this scene can’t be about publishing books in particular. It could be about any challenge, any career path, any leap of faith, right?
Let’s take a look at a line Engywook said to Bastian before watching the Sphinx Gate:
Engywook: Someday, I’ll publish my book.
To which Atreyu asks:
Atreyu: Have you ever been to the Southern Oracle ?
The answer is no. Engywook has been too afraid to cross the Sphinx Gate his whole life. He eyes it from afar, obsesses over it. Writes notes about it. Sketches it. But he would never dare cross it.
He’s getting dreadfully old. Instead of facing his destiny all these years, he’s become obsessed with watching the gate and watching others succeed or fail at getting through. He’s fallen in love with the process, the research, but he won’t dare take the first step in actually realizing his dream.
His wife knows it, but he doesn’t have the self-awareness to see it himself. He’d rather blame anyone else for his lack of progress. If Engywook ever really wanted his wife to take him seriously, he’d cross that gate. Engywook has not realized his own self-worth.
Engywook even proudly proclaims the book he wants to one day publish (it will never be published) is to be titled: “A Century of Studying the Southern Oracle” by Professor Engywook, “Volume One: The Early Years“.
He’s overthought the title down to obsessive granary. But the book doesn’t actually exist. Only his scientific notes and research do, for making the book.
Furthermore, it turns out he doesn’t know much about the Southern Oracle. In fact, he’s depending on Atreyu to come back and tell him about it so he can finish his book.
Let’s rewind the conversation even further, to the scene where they had just met.
Engywook: My name is Engywook. Uh, she’s Urgl. Ever heard of me?
Atreyu: I don’t think so.
Engywook wants the fame. The notoriety. In his mind, he’s already earned it. But if you can’t set foot past that first gate, you won’t attain it.
Nick Enlowe 