Showing posts with label The Place of Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Place of Fiction. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Wednesday with Words

Fiction is truer than fact: I mean that in great fiction we obtain the distilled wisdom of men of genius, understandings of human nature which we could attain—if at all—unaided by books, only at the end of life, after numberless painful experiences. I began to read Sir Walter Scott when I was twelve or thirteen; and I think I learnt from the Waverley novels, and from Shakespeare, more of the varieties of character than ever I have got since from the manuals of psychology.

I used to think that reading fiction was substandard compared with reading non fiction and that reading something that was not actually factual, historical or biographical probably wasn't the best use of my time. My educational background had huge holes and I've spent a lot of time trying to fill in the gaps. 
I began some years ago to make an effort to read some of the classics that I'd missed - Dickens, Austen, the Bronte sisters, Elizabeth Gaskell and others and then I branched out to try other authors who wrote fiction but whose books weren't considered to be classics as such. I've written in previous posts about some of these books and the impact they had on me and when I came across this quote on fiction by author Flannery O'Connor I realised that as I've grown in my reading capacity I've become equipped to experience so much more from the fiction I read.
Fiction isn't substandard unless you read rubbish and choosing fiction wisely can provide an experience which goes beyond mere entertainment.

We all write at our own level of understanding, but it is the peculiar characteristic of fiction that its literal surface can be made to yield entertainment on an obvious physical plane to one sort of reader while the self-same surface can be made to yield meaning to the person equipped to experience it there.
 Flannery O'Connor

 

A Young Girl Reading by Jean-Honore Fragonard (c1766)








Sunday, April 7, 2013

The Place of Fiction and the Moral Imagination

Recently I've been re-reading a few books I first read years ago, one of them being, 'Children of a Greater God' by Terry W. Glaspey which was written in 1995.


The book speaks about awakening your child's moral imagination, creating a clear understanding in their hearts and minds of the beauty and importance of moral living, and imparting the ability to perceive the truth in literature, the arts, and the natural world.

'Moral imagination is the ability to think clearly and creatively in the realm of moral values, especially when faced with a situation where rules do not suffice.'

He looks at virtues and the place of habits, the importance of the arts and instilling the art of reading - things that many of us have thought about, believe to be important and have already begun to put into practice - but he gives compelling reasons why these things are important. A common occurrence in families, especially with highschool age children, is that the 'optional extras' eg. the study of art, poetry, and music, gives way under the weight of the 'more necessary or expedient' subjects or time constraints. This book helps to give a vision for their inclusion and their appreciation.

The dangers of theological ignorance, the marks of a Christian mind and suggestions for building a Christian worldview are other areas he covers in this book. The book is very readable and practical and a good introduction to this area.

Now to some other authors:

An article I read last week, Why Christians Should Read Fiction led me to look into another article in which Russell Kirk wrote about the 'expression of the moral imagination.' The writing is quite scholarly and some of it was lost on me but it reminded me of the book above and I thought about some of the fiction I've read and how it contributed to my understanding of human nature.

'.... the end of great books is ethical—to teach us what it means to be genuinely human......
Until very recent years, men took it for granted that literature exists to form the normative consciousness—that is, to teach human beings their true nature, their dignity, and their place in the scheme of things.'   


I've just finished reading Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton, a stark, bitter novel written in 1911 and barely a hundred pages in length. Ethan, a young man in an unhappy relationship with a sickly, suspicious wife, dreams of a new life with his wife's cousin who has been living with them. When their desires are thwarted and they have to part, the two of them take a course of action which condemns all three to a wretched and pitiful existence together.

Ethan Frome really did have a tragic life that he sort of fell into in many ways. Throughout the story I found myself sympathising with his situation, wishing for him to find a way out of his misery and to have an opportunity to start afresh. I understood his behaviour was morally wrong and why, but it wasn't until the tragic consequences of his actions were culminated that I felt a moral awakening.

In contrast to Ethan Frome the situation of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre revealed a very different response to circumstances which were just as painful although somewhat different. Jane finds love, appreciation and happiness for the first time in her difficult life and is about to be married. Standing at the altar with Mr. Rochester, the man she loves, their wedding is suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a third party who reveals that Rochester is already married, albeit to a mad woman. Jane resolves to tear herself away and as Rochester passionately pleads with her and her emotions battle for supremacy she declares:

‘I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad- as I am now. Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth?’

Contrasting these two stories, the emotions they evoke and the ultimate resolution of their individual moral dilemmas revealed to me the power of fiction to help awaken the moral imagination. To have a moral foundation already in place is only the beginning. We need to know that this foundation is going to be solid in times when our emotions are trying to lead us, and the power of a story can help us look at life from different aspects, not in just black and white. As author Flannery O'Connor stated, 'A story is a way to say something that can't be said any other way.'

 'If a public will not have the moral imagination, I have been saying, then it will fall first to the idyllic imagination; and presently into the diabolic imagination—this last becoming a state of narcosis, figuratively and literally.'  (Russell Kirk)




 

Monday, August 13, 2012

A Landscape with Dragons



A Landscape with Dragons - The Battle for Your Child's Mind by Michael O'Brien

I first read this book about 10 years ago and for me it was one of those 'stand out' books that I return to and reflect on to refresh my thinking. The author examines fantasy books and movies for children in a way that I haven't seen addressed by any other author that I've read.

For a long time my husband and I avoided any sort of fantasy literature for our children - partly because we had a teenage girl living with us for a number of years who had really struggled with 'addiction' to science fantasy material and we didn't want to put any stumbling blocks in her way - and partly because as Christians we struggled with the whole 'magic/fantasy' issue ourselves and were reluctant to let our children loose with that type of material while we felt uneasy about its suitability.
  • Where were the boundaries when it came to this type of literature?
  • What was the difference between books written by authors such as C.S. Lewis, George McDonald and J.R. Tolkien, or Anne McCaffrey and Ursula Le Guin?
  • How could we discern what was suitable?
  • What if after reading the The Chronicles of Narnia, our children developed an appetite for more fantasy?
  • Would they develop a fascination for more questionable types of fantasy or even occult material?
  • Are you alarmed when you peruse the shelves at the local library and see how much of the content contains witches and sorcery?
  • Has anyone else had these concerns??

The author, calling our times the 'Age of Noise,' writes lucidly of the battle for our children's minds, the role of fairy tale and symbols, the growing illiteracy of Western society with our minds becoming increasingly passive and image oriented, the  invasion of the imagination  and the shift in our culture from a Christian worldview to a neopaganist  worldview.

A very helpful section in the book is the author's 'makeshift scale' in which he divides the field of children's culture into four categories in order to assess material eg:

Material that is fundamentally good but disordered in some details.......material that appears good on the surface but is fundamentally disordered.

He also stresses the need for parents to be vigilant and prayerful and that our primary tool for discernment  must be our own interior barometer.
He suggests asking ourselves some questions when we are assessing a book or film eg:

  • Does the story reinforce my child's understanding of the moral order of the universe?
  • Or does it undermine it?
  • What does the author say about the nature of evil?

The book  is deep, beautifully written, readable, and insightful.
The author is Catholic and his beliefs come through strongly in certain sections (in particular, 'Some Notes on Spiritual Discernment') but his message transcends denomination and his writing is very empowering, relevant and practical.

Some quotes from the book:

There is no perfect work of art, nor is there any work of fiction that does not in some small or large way fall short of a complete vision of reality. But there is a crucial difference between a flawed detail and a flaw in the fundamental  vision.

The imagination was originally created to be God's territory, a faculty of man's soul that would help him to comprehend the invisible realities.

The purpose of dragons in literature, and of the fascination children have for them is to arm the soul with an ever-developing discernment of spirits. The purpose of the fairy tale is not to breed superstition but rather to defend the mind against superstition.

Since  this book was published in 1998, he analyses and critiques movies such as Star Wars and  books written by authors Madeleine L'Engle, Stephen Lawhead and others, but I think his principles really transcend the time frame and can be used to discern current literature and film also.

There is a large comprehensive list of recommended family reading material contained at the end of the book and also a list of suggested reading materials for parents.

Although primarily written for parents this would be a worthwhile book for older teens to read especially if they are considering the study of education or literature later on.

Published by Ignatius Press.