Rocks and Sticks and Knives and Pain

What is fear? The dictionary says that fear is a distressed emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the treat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid. Fear can also be defined as reverential awe, specifically awe toward God. The second meaning, at least in my mind, is the more insightful definition in that it portrays some of the emotion felt in fear. That emotion is respect. I can think of no instance when something is feared and not respected because if something does not have respect then it is not worthy of fear. This separates fear from the act being afraid. If one is afraid of something one does not necessarily respect it. Fear, because of the respect it has, can therefore become terror. Terror is simply an overpowering feeling of fear, although terror can not be described as simple. An emotion so powerful that it can completely nullify the senses or can inspire greatness. Fear and terror are forces to be reckoned with and there are substances and instances which are worthy of fear. There is nothing wrong in fearing something, some things should be feared. There is, however, something wrong with being afraid of fear, or more namely, as fear is worthy of respect, of fearing fear. If one fears fear then one can lose their freedom. Fear should never control our actions, it should inspire within us courage. In the words of Victor Hugo:

The man on the run, let us repeat, is a man inspired. There is starlight and lightning in the mysterious glow of flight, and the straining for liberty is no less remarkable than the soaring of the spirit to the sublime. To ask, as we do of Corneille, 'when did he know that he was dying?'

Hugo talks of a man in fear of being caught, but the man is not controlled, he is instead inspired to acts of daring, to acts of courage, to acts of greatness; the man is free in his flight for freedom.

Child of the Snows

There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain,

Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.

And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.

The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.

- G.K. Chesterton

The Everlasting Man

For Christmas, here's a quote from one of my favorite passages in G.K. Chesterton's, The Everlasting Man:

Christmas for us in Christendom has become one thing, and in one sense even a simple thing. But like all the truths of that tradition, it is in another sense a very complex thing. Its unique not is the simultaneous striking of many notes; of humility, or gaiety, of gratitude, of mystical fear, but also of vigilance and drama. There is something defiant in it also; something that makes the abrupt bells at midnight sound like the great guns of a battle that has just been won. All this indescribable thing that we call the Christmas atmosphere only hangs in the air as something like a lingering fragrance or fading vapour from the exultant explosion of that one hour in the Judean hills nearly two thousand years ago. But the savour is still unmistakable, and it is something too subtle or too solitary to be covered by our use of the word peace. By the very nature of the story the rejoicings in the cavern were rejoicings in a fortress or an outlaw’s den; properly understood it is not unduly flippant to say they were rejoicings in a dug-out. It is not only true that such a subterranean chamber was a hiding-place from enemies; and that the enemies were already scouring the stony plain that lay above it like a sky.

There is in this buried divinity an idea of undermining the world; of shaking the towers and palaces from below; even as Herod the great king felt that earthquake under him and swayed with his swaying palace. This is perhaps the mightiest of the mysteries of the cave. Indeed the Church from its beginnings, and perhaps especially in its beginnings, was not so much a principality as a revolution against the prince of the world. It was in truth against a huge unconscious usurpation that it raised a revolt. Olympus still occupied the sky like a motionless cloud moulded into many mighty forms; philosophy still sat in the high places and even on the thrones of the kings, when Christ was born in the cave and Christianity in the catacombs.

The Stars look down on the meak and lowly

"And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." Luke 2: 8-14

I've always loved this passage, imagining the confusion and terror of the shepherds as their peace is broken by the hosts of heaven. This scene, however, is repeated on an almost nightly basis. All you have to do is go out on a clear night and gaze at the heavens. Stars, which are so often seen as synonymous with angels, look down as they dance through the heavens. The Angels coming at the birth of Christ was enough to shake people from their sleep and draw their eyes upward, while the quiet twinkling of stars every night is a reminder of this mystery and evidence that all of creation sings God's praise.

The change, it had to come, We knew it all along

Time is like an ocean, sometimes rushing and crashing forward and sometimes rolling gently on, but always moving. Nothing in our lives is stationary for it is all a part of this constant flux. Some are more steady and do not so much change as shift and grow. This is how relationships are, with family, friends, associates, everybody you meet, some last forever and you spend a lifetime deepening them and others fade out. Certain people can be a huge part in your life, but then times change, you move or graduate from school or change jobs and some of those people are gone. You're left with the memories and the impressons.

This is what allows us to mature and enrich ourselves: new experiences, new people, new knowledge. We move through this life and use everything that we've encountered to make each new decision we come across. We have countless opurtunities to shape our lives and the world around us.

But time brings change and all progress has a cost. There are tradeoffs and sacrifices that accompany every choice we make and so with every gain there is a tiny, lingering sense of loss. There are, however, certain beliefs, values and ideas that I will not let change, certain people I will not lose. I've been told that this is part of being young and an idealist and as I grow older these passions will turn into a deeper but more detatched love and my dreams to change the world will shrink in scale. Well I don't know if I believe that's true, but even if it is at the root of who I am will still be the same ideals. There are certian absolutes in this ever shifting world which should never be compromised.

Dreams

"He said, "Listen to my words: "When a prophet of the Lord is among you, I reveal myself to him in visions, I speak to him in dreams."-- Numbers 12:6

The Greatest Story Ever Told

I was surprised when reading a review of a new book has come out entitled The Magician's Book: A Skeptical Visit to Narnia, to note the bitterness with which the author, Laura Miller, recalls her realization as a teen of "what is instantly obvious to any adult reader: that the Chronicles of Narnia are filled with Christian symbolism."

C. S. Lewis is so forthwith about the Christianity in his works that her sense of betrayal is surprising. More surprising, however, is her claim that reading the Chronicles of Narnia as religious allegory is a willful misinterpretation and that she mean to reclaim them. "The Chronicles are unified," she writes, "not by anything resembling the exhaustive cultural stuff that Tolkien invented for Middle-earth . . . not even, really, by a cogent religious vision, but by readerly desire. Lewis poured into his imaginary world everything that he had adored in the books he read as a child and in the handful of children's books he'd enjoyed as an adult. And there is more, too: treasures collected from Dante, from Spenser, from Malory, from Austen, from old romances and ballads and fairy tales and pagan epics. . . The Chronicles," Miller concludes, "are a portal to other worlds, literary worlds."

Now, I have not read her book, but all of the reviews said generally the same thing. Which left me wondering how stories, other worlds and Christianity are mutually exclusive?

Myths and religion form the backbone of most fantasy. Sometimes their presence is overt-in The Iliad the gods are active participants in the plot. Other stories mask religion's presence but it is there; the injunction to follow a rule that is seemingly incompressible, to not open a box, eat an apple or to return home from the ball by midnight, points to the mystery of faith. The quest for some unattainable end, epic last stands, reliance on something besides oneself, these are all tropes that mirror and point to a Christian life.

Not only do most stories owe something to Christianity but the story of salvation history is itself thrilling. I know a professor who claims that you know the Bible was divinely inspired because of how perfect a work of literature it is, no person could have written it. It contains paradigms of tragedy and comedy, soul stirring pieces of poetry, the story of Jonah is even a perfect example of a ring cycle.

This is the point which seems to have eluded Ms. Miller, you cannot dismiss the religion and focus on the fact the C. S. Lewis wrote a smashingly good story because it is in large part the religion that makes it a smashingly good story. Grace, temptation, salvation these are what drives the plot of the Chronicles of Narinia. Incidentally, the same is true for many of the other books which Miller claims inspired Lewis as opposed to Christianity (Dante, have Christian undertones? No! He hid it so well also).

Sorry for the very heavy C. S. Lewis theme of late, I am going to leave off before start ranting about what was done to Peter's character in the Prince Caspian movie.

Will you have some tea?

"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me" -- C. S. Lewis

Symbols vs. Allegory

Of all words that have begun to lose their meaning and to be conflated in modern society the ones that have been bothering me most of late are symbol and allegory, which it seems people have begun to use interchangeably.

Allegories are man made constructs--a one-to-one correlation between two things. They are simple and contained within their subjects. That is why when, in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when people kept telling the Pevensie children that Alsan was not a tame lion I only half believed them. It is true within the constructs of the story and they way they meant it, Alsan couldn't be called or beckoned. Yet at the same time the reader could expect him not to be too terrible or do anything unexpected because he is confined by being an allegory. Aslan can be depended on not to do anything Christ wouldn't.

Symbols are much wilder things, which point to something else, not as a correspondence but as an illumination of its mystery. Chesterton gets to the heart of this paradox with his customary wit and insight in his essay "The Heraldic Lion," saying: "For all the mystical animals were imagined as enormously big as well as incalculably fierce and free. The stamping of the awful unicorn would shake the endless deserts in which it dwelt; and the wings of the vast griffin went over one' head in heaven with the thunder of a thousand cherubim. And yet the fact remains that if you asked a medieval man what the unicorn was supposed to mean, he would have replied 'chastity.'"

Symbols are not human constructs in the same way allegories are, but rather are a way to illuminate a mystery already in existence and to point to a truth that humans have only partially grasped. In the case of the unicorn this truth is that Chasity is not an absence or a lack of something, but instead something powerful, alive and flaming. I believe that elsewhere Chesterton made the comparison to Joan of Arc--something pure with the power to shake the world.

In the Renaissance a philosophy called The Doctrine of Signatures gained prominence. Essentially what this said was that everything in creation was created for a purpose with and end in mind and God "signed" each bit of creation to let man know its purpose. While not being as literal as looking for ear shaped plants to cure ear infections, this is what symbols do. They help unlock the secrets of creation by pointing to meanings beyond the superficial and illustrate a world full of mystery and wonder.

Not every man truely lives

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."-- Martin Luther King Jr.

English Marks a Million

A thought for the end of your week: The Economist, in its preview of 2009 issue, reports that the Global Language Monitor predicts that on April 29th 2009 English will officially pass the one million words mark.

In other news the average text message or IM conversation uses less than 50 of these.

A defense of monsters

The chatter around the library for the past few weeks has been unarguably focused on Twilight: Was the movie any good? Who is the best character? Who would make a better boyfriend, Edward or Jacob?

The last question caused me to pause, one is a werewolf and one is a vampire so neither should make a good boyfriend. Oh wait, that's right, they are not really vampires or werewolves, Stephenie Meyers managed to strip them of what made these creatures monsters, the subject of horror movie-their uncontrollable nature, their complete otherness. This is most evident in the werewolves who did not have to change at the full moon, who could transform back and forth at will, and who retained all of their mental capabilities. While in the fourth book she at least has the decency to say they are not traditional werewolves but rather shape shifters, it still felt week. Despite both Jacob and Edward's frequent assertions that they were monsters neither Bella nor the readers bought it.

I began thinking then about the Harry Potter books, the last big fad in teen lit which transcended that genre and were popular with a broad spectrum of people. In that, at least, the monsters are monstrous--no one meeting a dementor, troll or Voldemort would expect compassion and they were not objects of infatuation. Yet in Harry Potter it is set up as a one-on-one struggle, not part of a larger problem. Voldemort is the evilest wizard and Harry the boy destined to kill him, an act which will restore order the the world and everything will be fine again.

Stories where the monsters stand out, where they are truly terrifying are those where defeating a monster does not eradicate evil but merely stems the tide until the next monster arises. At the beginning of the Dark Knight Gordon tells Batman that his taking the out the mob bosses did not save Gotham but opened the door to a new generation of criminals. In the Lord of the Rings the unspoken knowledge that Sauron was not the first dark lord and probably would not be the last is evident. For the characters in these stories this is no reason to stop resisting, but there is also no talk of chosen ones, just of a person standing against the monsters until it is someone else's turn.

Tolkien got at the heart of this mentality in his essay The Monsters and the Critics, "The monsters had been the foes of the gods, the captains of men, and within Time the monsters would win. In the heroic siege and last defeat men and gods alike had been imagined in the same host. Now the heroic figures, the men of old, remained and still fought on until defeat. For the monsters do not depart, whether the gods go or come."

Defanging monsters robs the struggles of everyday life of their virtue. The fact Beowulf still resonates with modern audiences, that the Lord of the Rings has not flagged in popularity since it was "discovered" in the 60's, and that superhero stories are becoming popular with a whole new generation means that the idea of an unending struggle against evil still speaks to people at least as much as stories where the main problem is finding a date to prom or staying on top of your clique. Leaving monsters monstrous sparks the imagination and gives people a guide for when the dragons come.

There is power in me yet, my race is not yet run

Who are we? we who claim to know so much yet know so little. Are we so arrogant that we cannot confess to be proud? We have but one chance to do something in this world, who are we to falter? Why are we afraid to fight for the right to be free? I want to run I want to fly I want to do something with my life. There will come a time when we must decide who we are. In this world why are we restricted in professions that we deem others will want to emulate? Why simply cannot we walk and learn and hope to understand? Damn their warnings damn their lies, they will see the people rise! I want to learn, I want to learn so much. To travel to learn the trades of better men. I want to wander I want to be free. I want to be remembered for the life that I led. I want to be written in the stars. Let the rains fall and the seas rise! Let us walk unafraid of what is to come. Let us reach for the stars and let the stars be changed. Who cares about your lonely soul, we strive for a higher goal, our little lives don't count at all! The trumpets wills sound for the Lords of Gondor have returned. I would have called you my brother. my captain. my king. We do not know the path that we tread, but He does, and so we must content ourselves with this knowledge, the knowledge that there is a being greater than us, that there is a will greater than our own. The stars can be changed. The Son also rises. Are we willing to give our lives or are we to afraid to even say our name. He stood as if challenging the world, and all who looked upon him concluded that in the case of a rumble, the world would lose.

To all the Farsighted

"You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus." — Mark Twain