"There are no accidents." How I found Tolkien and C. S. Lewis

 Over six decades ago, I was a student worker in the library of Wisconsin State University at Superior. Student workers had access to the bookshelves (aka stacks), although other students generally did not. I was putting a shelf to order, or some such, when I saw Tolkien’s The Fellowship ot the Ring. I checked it out, and read it. I became so deeply involved with it that I took the book home to Birchwood, WI, for the weekend, and read the chapter on Gandalf’s battle with the Balrog to some or all of my three younger brothers. I eventually read the other two books of the trilogy. I don’t know what my brothers thought of this, or if all three of them heard it.

A few years later, while I was a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, I was exploring the children’s fantasy section of the library – they were less restrictive on access to the collection than Superior had been – I found The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis. I don’t remember the details of finding Lewis’s other works, including the other Narnia volumes, but I eventually read nearly all of his published books, both fiction and religion.

As a character from Lewis’s The Silver Chair put it, “There are no accidents.”

I thank God for the two encounters described above, and for the experiences that followed them. I learned something of honor, wisdom, self-sacrifice, worship, faith, loyalty and other virtues from Tolkien and Lewis.

J. R. R. Tolkien: an appreciation

J. R. R. Tolkien was born on January 3, 1892. I'd like to muse about Tolkien, who has had an influence on me, and on many other people, including C. S. Lewis. Tolkien's discussion with Lewis was one of the influences that led Lewis to belief in Christianity, and in Christ.

Tolkien was an expert in English, as spoken and written long ago, and the literature written in that language, especially Beowulf. He had a long and solid academic career, and authored books related to it, and also The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. These latter were the basis of some immensely successful movies. These books had their foundation in characters, settings, situations, and languages invented by Tolkien. After his death, other books, less accessible, were put together from Tolkien's very extensive writings about this fictional universe.

So why appreciate Tolkien?
1) He was a good writer. His characters, plots and settings ring true, although, as he said, he was merely a sub-creator, not a creator. The books are carefully written, so carefully that it was difficult to get Tolkien to finish them to his own standards, and release them for publication.

2) He was a believer. As the use of the term, sub-creator, indicates, Tolkien believed that God was creator, humans merely subordinate to God.

3) His work influenced much of the fantastic literature published in English in the 20th and 21st centuries, as authors variously used his characters, his situations, his weaponry, and his races of beings, elves and dwarves, generally similar to Tolkien's beings. And, of course, some authors tried to emulate his unsought success. Most sword and sorcery fiction is related to Tolkien's fiction. Some of these authors acknowledge their debt to Tolkien. Most don't. Having good fantastic literature enriches those of us who read it. Ursula K. Le Guin, for one, said so:

That [The Lord of the Rings] is told in the language of fantasy is not an accident, or because Tolkien was an escapist, or because he was writing for children. It is a fantasy because fantasy is the natural, the appropriate, language for the recounting of the spiritual journey and the struggle of good and evil in the soul. "The Child and the Shadow," pp. 59-71, in Susan Wood, ed., The Language of the Night: Essays on Fantasy and Science Fiction (New York: Putnam, 1979). Quote is from p. 68.

Le Guin, herself, an important writer of fantastic literature, was influenced by Tolkien.
In the mid-1950s, she read J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, which had an enormous impact on her. But rather than making her want to follow in Tolkien's footsteps, it simply showed her what was possible with the fantasy genre.

4) Tolkien's characters had depth. They weren't cardboard characters. Frodo and Gollum both had conflicts as to what was the right thing to do, and what they wanted to do. So did Sam Gamgee. Boromir sought power for selfish reasons, but redeemed himself at his end. Saruman also sought power for selfish reasons, but didn't redeem himself at his end. Galadriel is, perhaps, Tolkien's most interesting character, although she is not a major character in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. See here for more about her.

Although some of his characters had depth, not all did. Tolkien didn't flesh out Morgoth, Sauron, or any of his orcs.

5) The elves (and the heroic humans) are appealing. Living for thousands of years, in perfect harmony with the natural surroundings, has a certain appeal. And Tolkien's elves didn't seem to grow bored with their long and mostly uneventful lives. And they were willing to hazard all in conflicts with great evil, and many of them lost their lives that way. The hobbits are also appealing. Living simply, not working too hard, eating a lot, not being challenged by changes, living in (mostly) harmony with your extended family sounds good.

6) Tolkien's world portrays the natural world as beautiful, but industrial enterprises as polluting. That, like the idea of very long lives, appeals to many of us.

7) Tolkien's world was not autonomous, and sometimes needed, and got, help from beyond itself. One example of such help was the wizards, Gandalf and Radagast, and probably others, as well as Saruman, before he fell morally. These entities were sent from beyond Middle-Earth, to help the inhabitants. One of them, Gandalf, was even sent back from death. There were more events, and characters, that showed that supernatural powers were interested in Tolkien's world.

8) Tolkien's world included a blessed life beyond death. It also included sacrificial death, such as Gandalf's, and that of Théoden. Death was not necessarily the end of the inhabitants of Tolkien's world.

Did Tolkien get everything right? No. Middle-earth was mostly a male world -- there don't seem to have been any female orcs, and the female ents had vanished from knowledge. There were few female dwarves. The leaders of humans were almost all male. And Tolkien ignored some basic matters. Where did everyone get their food? There's not much to eat in forests, but Elrond, and Galadriel, lived in forests, and weren't supposed to have starved. And the elves of Mirkwood likewise lived in a forest. And how was it possible to feed the denizens of Mordor, who lived in a polluted desert?

But Tolkien's world was not about agriculture. It was about right and wrong, and heroism, and beauty, and supernatural care, and persistence, and friendship.

See here for my main post about The Hobbit, and here, here and here for those on the three books of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Thanks for reading. Read Tolkien.

Sunspots 657

Things I have recently spotted that may be of interest to someone else:

The Arts: Relevant discusses the extraordinary effort put into filming the Battle of Helm's Deep, in The Two Towers.

Christianity: National Public Radio reports that, at the trial of a white policeman, who was convicted of depriving her African-American son of his civil rights (he was shot in the back, and died), the victim's mother told the shooter that she forgave him. (The shooter apparently told her that he was sorry.)

A Relevant contributor discusses that perennial topic, the so-called "war on Christmas."

Relevant also reports on a survey, which indicates that Muslims and Jews give more to their religions than Christians do.


Computing: Developers of artificial intelligence are thinking about some of the ethical questions associated with this technology, according to Wired.

Here's a web site that will tell you if your information, such as Social Security number or financial accounts, has been compromised. Just enter your e-mail address. It doesn't tell you what to do about such problems.

Wired tells us that a lot of e-mail is being tracked -- the sender is informed as to when a message was opened, where the opening was, and on what type of information appliance, and more.
  Finance: Listverse describes some types of money that used to be used in the U. S., but aren't, any more.

Health: National Public Radio reports on the much more frequent deaths of black women, in, or shortly after, giving birth, and points to the stress of being the target of racism as at least one of the causes.

History: Listverse reports on some interesting aspects of life in ancient Egypt.

Politics: FiveThirtyEight reports on the change in attitude toward Israel in Republicans, over the last few decades.

(And Computing) Wired reports on false, or misleading, claims made by the 3 Federal Communications Commissioners who voted to do away with net neutrality.

(And Health) The Centers for Disease Control has been told not to use seven words/phrases, according to the Washington Post and other outlets. One of these is "fetus." (!) Scientific American, and others, are outraged at this directive, and believe that it will have real health consequences, bad ones. Shades of 1984.

Thanks for looking!

Image source (public domain)

On the conversion of C. S. Lewis to belief in Christ

A blogger has posted a readable, but detailed account, of the conversion of C. S. Lewis, arguably the most important Christian writer of the 20th Century, to Christianity, and to belief in Christ as savior. J. R. R. Tolkien played a role in the conversion of Lewis.

Thanks for reading. Read Lewis (and/or Tolkien!)

Sunspots 542

Things I have recently spotted that may be of interest to someone else: 
 
Christianity: Ken Schenck says that the Bible is "inspired, infallible and inerrant," and discusses the meaning of those three terms. 

  Food: Here's the difference between cilantro and Italian parsley.


Health: The New York Times reports on scientific studies on the health benefits of drinking tea.
 
National Public Radio reports that (surprise!) we are sitting down too much for our health.
 
Humor: (or something) Wired on what happens to buildings abandoned by Pizza Hut.
  Literature: Wired reports that Tolkien sketched a lot (maps, and other things) while writing his masterpiece.


Politics: Benjamin L. Corey on why the gun lobby loves a mass shooting.
Image source (public domain)

Three poster -- all sorts of fairly important uses of the number three

For reasons I can't really explain, I decided to produce a poster, recognizing various uses of the number three. You see it above. For a larger size, you can use the graphic, which is a link, to get to my Flickr photostream.

If I have omitted an important use of three, let me know, and I'll consider adding it to this graphic.

You will not find an explanation of the Trinity here, or anywhere in this blog. . .

1 Corinthians 13:13 is from the so-called "love chapter" of the Bible, where Paul describes agape love, Christ-like, unselfish love, which, he says, is even more important than hope and faith.

The quotation from James Joyce is the source of the name for quarks, the sub-atomic particles.

The quotation from Tolkien is from his poem about the Rings of Power, in his great Lord of the Rings trilogy. The rings were first crafted by Celebrimbor, and were given to Círdan and Gil-galad. Círdan gave his to Gandalf, and the other two rings came to be worn, and used, by Elrond and Galadriel.

Lest it not be obvious, The text uses three typefaces for the text (except for the six typefaces used for the 3's in the graphic). There are three kinds of triangles, equilateral, right and isosceles, each with its own color, used as a border on three sides of the graphic.

Both the Miami Heat and the San Antonio Spurs, currently contenders for the National Basketball Association championship, are often described as having a "Big Three." For more uses of that term, see here, and here.

Thanks for looking and reading! May you have faith and hope, and exhibit agape love.

What is a Christian Novel?

A few years ago, during an attack of hubris, I attempted to define Christian novels. It’s a difficult thing to do, to say the least. I now believe that a description makes more sense than a definition. But a description is not much easier than a definition.

I’m avoiding two fundamental issues, namely what a novel is, or what Christianity is.

Here’s my description. A Christian novel should include three things. First, some sort of important choice between good and evil. Second, there should also be evidence that a character has hope, beyond despair. Third, such a work should also contain at least one of the following, as a significant part of the plot, or the theme, or as an attribute of an important character: 1) A Christ-figure 2) Belief in important orthodox Christian doctrine, on the part of a narrator or character 3) Practicing prayer to a monotheistic divine being 4) Having a relationship with such a monotheistic divine being in other significant ways, including receiving guidance from him, or being placed in his presence. (For more discussion of these points, see the post indicated in the first sentence.)

This is a broader description than some have proposed. Angela Hunt put forth a simpler one, with three characteristics, namely that the story should illustrate some aspect of Christian faith, that the writing should avoid obscenity and profanity (she didn’t define these) and that it should offer hope. She was writing about what she has called “faith fiction” which is fiction aimed mainly at a female evangelical and fundamentalist Christian audience. Hunt has written a lot of that herself. Hunt writes “I’m sure you’re waiting for me to say there must be a conversion scene, a moral, a sermon, prayer, the name of Jesus, Christian protagonists, angels, or something else, but that’s it.” Most faith fiction does involve a conversion, and some of the other aspects that Hunt mentions, but which aren't, for her, requirements. I think most faith fiction also includes a marriage, or points toward a forthcoming marriage. Like other types of fiction, faith fiction can be too formulaic. I personally prefer not to read most such books.

I would agree with Hunt on most matters, and I think our descriptions overlap a great deal. I prefer not to read books with lots of profanity or obscenity in them, but I believe it would be possible to write a thoroughly Christian work, meeting my description, which included such language. I think she’s right about hope, although it doesn’t seem to me that it would have to be realized within the novel, just a driving force for the characters. I thank her for mentioning hope as a critical component. I wouldn’t have included it if I hadn't read her post.

My own interest is in what I call fantastic literature. I cannot recall reading any award-winning fantasy or science fiction works which had language that turned me off. Some of the best, and mainstream works of fantastic literature, such as those of Connie Willis, meet, or come close to meeting, the description above. Certainly, not all such novels meet that description.

Could a non-Christian write a book that meets my description, or Hunt’s? I suppose so. Such an author probably wouldn't.

Let me analyze three specific cases. The Narnia books, by C. S. Lewis, match the description. Aslan is a Christ-figure, dying for the sin of someone else. Characters have a relationship with Aslan. The children sometimes pray to Aslan. There are moral choices, lots of them. Perhaps the most important Christian doctrine, the Atonement, is portrayed directly, in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It is no wonder that the series is sometimes described as being too preachy.

Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy is not so obvious as the Narnia books. There are moral choices, such as Galadriel’s decision not to take the ring from Frodo, Denethor’s decision to put his own judgment above Gandalf’s, and Saruman’s decision to advance himself, rather than trying to defeat Sauron, all choices between good and evil. Gandalf dies in Moria, and returns to life, which is part of being a Christ-figure. No one seems to pray. No one seems to have a relationship with a high deity or deities, and the books don’t give a clear picture of monotheism. As to belief in an orthodox Christian doctrine, the only one I can come up with is forgiveness and/or mercy. Sam, Frodo and Bilbo were all merciful toward Gollum. Boromir sought forgiveness for trying to take the ring from Frodo. There is hope, throughout the book. The books do meet the description, although not as obviously as the Narnia books.

As much as I like the work of Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea books, they aren’t Christian. (Le Guin says that she is a Taoist.) There are certainly moral choices, and there is hope. But there is no evident belief in a monotheistic god, no relationship with such, and no prayer. And Ged isn’t really a Christ-figure. He doesn’t actually die, let alone die for someone else, although he does lose his magical abilities in saving Earthsea. Ged’s first archmage, Nemmerle, does die, repairing damage that Ged had done, but he really didn’t die for Ged, but, rather, because of his own task as archmage, which was to preserve the equilibrium of Earthsea. And death, itself, is problematic in these books. The dead go into the Dry Land, a realm where they seem to just sort of wander around forever, although a wizard with great power can summon their spirits temporarily. (See this review, on Le Guin’s web site, which says a little about the Dry Land, and about Le Guin’s Taoism.) The Dry Land is an alternative to orthodox Christian doctrine. There is no heaven, and no hell, in Earthsea.

The Speculative Faith blog is indispensable for persons interested in the intersection of Christianity and fantastic literature. E. Stephen Burnett, one of the regular contributors to that blog, has written a post entitled “Define ‘Christian Speculative Story.’” Rebecca Luella Miller, from the same blog, has written on “What Makes Fantasy Work?” and, in the process, described what Christian Fantasy should be.

This post is somewhat (not much) revised from a previous one on the same subject. One reason for re-doing the post is that a commenter decided to enter into a rather lengthy dialog with me about matters that weren’t related to the post. Another reason is that a commenter on yesterday’s post on the Speculative Faith blog said this:
There is a very popular argument that it is enough to love the antrhopomorphized [sic] abstract. That seeing an aspect of God’s love, grace, forgiveness, etc. in a speculative story is enough to sanctify that speculative story. Edward is like Jesus in his absolute love for Bella, Harry is like Jesus in his calling to save the world, Samwise is like Jesus in his willingness to carry his friend. I really…don’t think so.

I must agree. Seeing a Christ-figure in a story doesn’t make it the story of Christ.

Thanks for reading. 

* * * * * 

Added March 26, 2013: Rebecca Luella Miller, of the Speculative Faith blog, which should be required reading for persons interested in serious reading, or writing, of fantastic literature, argues that all fiction has a purpose, underlying assumptions, and gives examples. It is only reasonable, she says, that Christian authors also have purposes and underlying assumptions.

* * * * *
On March 17, 2014, I made some editorial changes.

* * * * * 
Shannon McDermott has posted, on the Speculative Faith blog, about “What Isn't Christian Fiction.” In other words, she’s considering the opposite question. She says that resurrection (Gandalf, for one) doesn’t make the person resurrected a Christ-figure. I agree, but I’m not sure that Gandalf wasn’t a Christ-figure.

Ethics and the wars of Lewis and Tolkien

In a previous post, I quoted a secondary source, which credited Aquinas with three parts of a just war: proper authority to wage one, having a just cause, and having right intentions. A commenter said, I think correctly, that Augustine also contributed to just war theory.

Did the "good guys" in C. S. Lewis' Narnia books wage just wars, when they waged them? How about the "good guys" in J. R. R. Tolkien's Ring books? I'll try to answer those questions.

First, Lewis. I have seen the trailer for the soon-to-be-shown "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe," and, judging from the emphasis given in the trailer, the battle fought in the book the movie is supposed to be based on will be more important than it was in the book. This war seems to have unquestionably been just, on the part of Peter and his siblings, and, of course, Aslan. The White Witch attacked them.

Other wars are mentioned briefly in the Narnia books, and I don't think there's enough information to judge as to whether or not they were just. In The Last Battle, much of the book is about warfare between King Tirian and the Telmarines. Again, self-defense was involved.

Tolkien described lots of wars in The Silmarillion, and in the appendix to the Ring trilogy. I won't concern myself with these. What about the final war, where Gondor, Rohan, and others (such as the Ents) go into combat against Sauron. Although it's more complicated than the battles in Narnia, I think, again, that this is mostly self-defense. Sauron or Saruman have harried and harrassed, and conquered lands they were not entitled to. Sauron attacks Gondor. Saruman destroys sentient Ents. Sauron clearly plans to overcome the world. Gandalf gives, as it were, supernatural approval and encouragement to go to war. So does prophecy.

Because I have temporarily left most of our library behind, including our Tolkien and Lewis books, I am operating from memory. Also, this is merely musings on the wars in these books. Perhaps a reader can take this much further than I have. For what it's worth, Lewis and Tolkien (who had both served in the British military) presented wars that had to be fought, against enemies who were grossly unjust, in these works of fiction. There was proper authority: Aslan/Peter, or Gandalf/Denethor/Aragorn/Theoden. There was just cause: evil conquest and destruction that needed to be defeated. There was right intention: restoration of justice (including, in both worlds, better care of the environment.)

Some quotations about trees

C. S. Lewis:
I am sure that some are born to write as trees are born to bear leaves: for these, writing is a necessary mode of their own development. If the impulse to write survives the hope of success, then one is among these. If not, then the impulse was at best only pardonable vanity, and it will certainly disappear when the hope is withdrawn. - C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves, The Letters of C.S. Lewis, (28 August 1930) (my web source is here)

William Dowie on J. R. R. Tolkien:
The Lord of the Rings is basically a rural book, even something of an ecological tract. The companions travel through forests, over mountains, marshes, and down rivers pursuing their quest. They are in contact with the rhythms of nature and the significance of places and events in a way that is impossible for man in the era of mass production and urban construction. Things have meaning for Frodo and his companions, things that looked at from afar might be called natural hierophanies. The principal of these which Tolkien employs are special places, stones, rings, narrow passes, underground tunnels, moon and sun, night and day, trees and foliage, ship and sea, and the changing seasons. William Dowie, "The Gospel of Middle-Earth according to J. R. R. Tolkien" in J. R. R. Tolkien, Scholar and Storyteller: Essays in Memoriam, Mary Salu and Robert T. Farrell, editors. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1979, pp. 265-285. Quote is from page 268.

A further symbol of the triumph of life is the cosmic tree, which is related of course to the whole renewal of nature that begins in spring and blossoms into summer. As Eliade points out, "for religious man, the appearance of life is the central mystery of the world," for "human life is not felt as a brief appearance in time, between one nothingness and another; it is preceded by a pre-existence and continued in a postexistence" (The Sacred and the Profane, p. 147). Because this mystery of the inexhaustible presence of life is bound up with the rhythmical regeneration of nature, the tree became a central symbol in religious traditions. So in The Lord of the Rings the figure of the tree carries something of this same mythic significance when the Eagle sings to the people of Gondor:
And the Tree that was withered shall be renewed,
and he shall plant it in the high places,
and the City shall be blessed. [III, 241]
William Dowie, "The Gospel of Middle-Earth according to J. R. R. Tolkien" in J. R. R. Tolkien, Scholar and Storyteller: Essays in Memoriam, Mary Salu and Robert T. Farrell, editors. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1979, pp. 265-285. Quote is from page 273.

Ursula K. Le Guin, describing Ged:
From that time forth he believed that the wise man is one who never sets himself apart from other living things, whether they have speech or not, and in later years he strove long to learn what can be learned, in silence, from the eyes of animals, the flight of birds, the great slow gestures of trees. Ursula K. Le Guin, A Wizard of Earthsea, New York: Ace, 1968, p. 98.

Frances Schaeffer:
If God treats the tree like a tree, the machine like a machine, the man like a man, shouldn't I, as a fellow-creature, do the same -- treating each thing in integrity in its own order? And for the highest reason: because I love God -- I love the One who has made it! Loving the Lover who has made it, I have respect for the thing He has made. (Francis A. Schaeffer, Pollution and the Death of Man, 1972, Ch. 4)

John C. Polkinghorne:
In the cross of Christ we see a lonely figure, nailed to the tree, exposed to the most tortured and lingering death that Roman political ingenuity could devise, deserted by his friends and taunted by his enemies, experiencing also the depths of alienation from the God who had been the centre of his life, the One he knew as his dear Father, so that he cries, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mk. 15:34; Mt. 27:46). Christians believe that in this bleak scene we see, not just a good man caught and destroyed by the system, but the one true God who, in the taut stretching of Christ's arms on the cross, embraces and accepts the bitterness of the world that is his divine creation. The Christian God is not a passionate spectator, looking down in sympathy on the sufferings of the world; the Christian God is truly the "fellow sufferer who understands," for in Christ God has known human suffering and death from the inside. The Christian God is the Crucified God. John C. Polkinghorne, Belief in God in an Age of Science. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1998. p. 43.