Clark Kent Saves Young Lex Luthor in Smallville’s ‘Fracture’ Episode – A Superman Story That Heals the Soul (Solzhenitsyn Quote of the Day) by Jared Harding Wilson

by Jared Harding Wilson

Welcome back to the blog! Today, I’m diving into a profound quote that has stuck with me, especially after a recent binge-watch session with my wife. As our Quote of the Day:

This quote, from the renowned Russian author and dissident, reminds us that good and evil aren’t black-and-white forces out there in the world—they’re intertwined within each of us. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn knew this intimately through his own life experiences.

A heartwarming true story about him: While imprisoned in the Soviet Gulag for criticizing Stalin, Solzhenitsyn was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Facing death in those brutal conditions, he underwent a deep spiritual awakening, turning back to the Christian faith of his childhood after years as a Marxist. Miraculously, he survived the cancer, later viewing his suffering as a transformative blessing that deepened his empathy and fueled his writing. This resilience not only saved his life but inspired his masterpiece The Gulag Archipelago, which exposed the horrors of the camps and helped millions confront totalitarianism with hope and humanity.

It got me thinking about how pop culture often explores this same theme. My wife and I have been rewatching Smallville, the origin story of Superman—from his high school days in Kansas to the moment he dons the red cape and takes to the skies. It’s been a blast reliving Clark Kent’s journey! Last night, we hit Season 7, Episode 12: “Fracture.” If you’re not familiar, this episode perfectly echoes Solzhenitsyn’s quote.

In “Fracture,” Lex Luthor is shot and falls into a coma after trying to rescue his amnesiac cousin Kara (Supergirl) from a deranged captor who’s also holding Lois Lane hostage. Lex has crucial information locked in his mind about their location, which could save their lives. Using experimental LutherCorp technology—extremely dangerous and untested—Clark Kent enters Lex’s subconscious literally, navigating his memories like a surreal dreamscape.

Inside Lex’s mind, things get intense. The “evil” side of Lex, the power-hungry adult who’s been sliding deeper into darkness, is dominant and tries to destroy Clark. But then we meet the “good” side: a young, innocent 12-year-old version of Lex, representing the pure-hearted boy he once was before tragedy and ambition corrupted him. Adult Lex attempts to kill this child version of himself, symbolizing his rejection of any remaining goodness. Clark, ever the hero, saves the boy. In a poignant moment, young Lex tells Clark, “You’re my only best friend… the only friend I’ve ever had.” It’s heartbreaking because, in the real world, Clark and Lex’s friendship has long soured into rivalry. This scene hits hard—it shows how even someone like Lex, who’s chosen the dark path, still harbors that vulnerable, good core deep inside.

Watching this, I couldn’t help but reflect on Solzhenitsyn’s words. We all have that inner divide, and often, it’s a hurt child within us crying out for healing. I’ve shared in previous posts about my years of therapy, which have been life-changing. My first therapist, a sweet older lady I came to see as an adopted grandma, guided me through connecting with and healing that inner self.

One session stands out: We revisited a memory from when I was about 11 years old that used to bring me to tears just thinking about it. I was taking dance lessons at Nina’s School of Dance in North Carolina. I started with breakdancing but switched to ballet, tap and jazz. Nina was friends with the director of a local public TV show called Sparks, produced by WRAL. It was a fun kids’ program with a catchy theme song, adventurous intros involving a time machine, and messages about good values.

For a Halloween episode, the director needed extras from the dance studio. I dressed up as a spooky vampire—face painted white, fake teeth, black cape, slicked-back hair. I even had blood capsules to dissolve in my mouth for a dramatic “blah, blah, blah!” like Dracula. We were all sitting on the floor when the director picked me and a girl I had a small crush on to open the episode. We sat at an ice cream shop set in front of a huge camera. My line? Turn around, put my hands up, and reveal blood running down my face while she screamed—then cut to the intro.

Nervous with my plastic teeth in, I popped the capsule, worked up some spit, and went for the scare. I turned back with a dramatic flourish, expecting crimson horror. She screamed—mission accomplished! I sat there, grinning under my vampire makeup, hands still raised, basking in the moment… for who knows how long. Only later, when I reached for a napkin on the table to dab my chin, did I realize: the capsule never dissolved. What I thought was blood dripping down my face was just a thick trail of spit, glistening under the studio lights. I had been sitting there, completely unaware, with drool running down my chin in front of the girl I liked—and on public TV. Mortified doesn’t even cover it. When the episode aired, they cut the scene, but the memory lingered for decades.

In therapy, confronting and healing that 11-year-old’s shame was cathartic. It taught me that embracing our vulnerable, “good” sides—even the parts we’ve tried to bury—can mend the divide within. Just like Clark saving young Lex, or Solzhenitsyn finding light in darkness, we all have the power to nurture our inner child instead of destroying it.

So, dear readers, where does the line between good and evil cut through your heart? Are you willing to heal rather than destroy? Share your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear your stories. Until next time, keep seeking the good within.

In this blog post, most photos are by Jared Harding Wilson. All rights reserved.