I can feel a backlash coming even as I write, but decided to pose this idea anyway. I know there are a lot of Twilight lovers out there, and I'd especially like to hear your opinion on this. I have only one request if you respond: please don't kill me.
Most of you know I started reading the Harry Potter books a couple of years ago and fell in love with them. Since a lot of Harry Potter lovers also seem to be Twilight fans, I decided to try those books as well and read Twilight and New Moon, but so far I'm not hooked. At first I thought it was mainly because the Twilight books are first and foremost about romance. I enjoy a good love story, but I frankly don't want descriptions of the hero's godlike perfection to be the main focus of my reading material. (Like I said, please don't kill me.)
But then I realized that something else bothers me--and this is where the main comparison between Harry Potter and Twilight comes in for me. And this isn't about something fluffy like romance. It's about the very big issues of death and immortality that are the focus of both books, but in different ways.
In the final Harry Potter book, Harry finds his parents' graves, and there's a Bible verse carved on the headstone: "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." Considering the rogues that raised Harry, he hasn't exactly had a church upbringing so he doesn't recognize this as a Bible verse and is disturbed. He tells his friend Hermione that the idea sounds like something the evil Lord Voldemort's followers (aptly named Death-Eaters) would say. These bad guys are all about defeating death and achieving immortality through any means--dark magic, murder, power, whatever. But Hermione explains to Harry that the verse doesn't mean overcoming death their way, but is about living on after death.
In the Harry Potter books, it's clear that physical, earthly death is not the worst thing. And living forever on Earth is not the best thing. The best thing is love and overcoming darkness. In the very first Harry Potter book, an alchemist has developed The Sorcerer's Stone, which has allowed him to live for hundreds of years so far and will keep him alive indefinitely. But when the alchemist learns that Voldemort is trying to acquire the stone and use it himself, the alchemist destroys the object and calmly prepares for death.
There's another symbolic object in the last book--one of the Deathly Hallows, as a matter of fact--that could possibly be used to bring people back from the dead. When Harry first hears of this, he has an intense longing to find that stone, so he could bring back his parents and other loved ones he's lost. By the end of the book, Harry has the stone, but he has learned that using it this way would be a terrible mistake. Instead, Harry uses the stone in an amazing way, that affirms love and sacrifice and "living beyond death."
Which brings me to Bella and Twilight.
From the time Bella learns of the Cullens and Edward's true nature, she longs to become a vampire. She's obsessed with living forever on Earth with Edward. She comments that she's not interested in heaven if Edward's not there. I found this disturbing when I read Twilight, but I figured this was just the set-up. Eventually Bella would come to her senses. Maybe they would find a way to help Edward and the Cullens be "cured" of their vampire state and returned to normal, mortal life.
Because let's face it. Even though the Cullens have a kind of immortality, at least in my humble opinion, they're not exactly living an earthly Paradise. Though they've chosen not to kill humans, it's a constant temptation--to the point of their having to be careful not to lose control and kill their beloved Bella. Would any of us really voluntarily take on a condition that would make us struggle not to hurt or kill our loved ones at any moment?
Frankly, I don't even relish the Cullens' way of having to rip apart animals and drink their blood for nourishment. Or never being able to sleep. (Yikes, definitely not my idea of paradise!)
I admit I've stopped reading after New Moon. But from what I heard, Bella's becoming one of the undead and achieving this kind of immortality remains the goal. So maybe she gets to live with Edward forever, but at what cost?
Accepting that sort of earthly life for eternity is just not a goal that I can identify with, and hence my trouble with Twilight. I frankly don't see Harry going for anything like that either.
So now, Twilight (and Potter?) fans out there--tell me what I'm missing.
But please don't hurt me.
Showing posts with label Eternity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eternity. Show all posts
Friday, December 11, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Getting What You Want or Wanting What You Get
Kristi's post yesterday reminded me of lots of things from my own life. She and I are so much alike, only I'm about 15 years further down the road.
When I was in my mid twenties, I made a stab at L.A. and the film industry in my own way. I started a masters' degree in writing at the University of Southern California with a view toward becoming a screen writer. I might have been a flop at most things in life but had always done well academically, so I thought if there was a way to break into the industry through school, that would definitely be the way to go.
The classes were taught by successful screen writers and novelists and playwrights, so I pictured scenarios in which I wrote such amazing works for my class assignments that I would be discovered and catapulted to success. And I would live happily ever after in the world of film and make-believe.
A couple of days after I started the courses, I saw a bulletin board post that Burt Lancaster's production company was looking for interns from my writing program. I applied and immediately got the position. I wasn't particularly surprised. All was going exactly as I expected. My first step on that rung to happiness.
I discovered a curious thing. You can get exactly what you hoped for, and yet it can feel totally different. In the internship, I worked with only one man from the production company. Never did meet Burt or any celebrities. My supervisor was tactless and critical and strangely enough, never did gasp in amazement at my astounding talent. I'd go see him once a week to pick up assignments, and I discovered that visiting the production company was like visiting any other office of any other business. I remember, even after my first visit for the internship, having a let-down feeling and thinking, "This doesn't feel like I thought it would."
One of my courses at USC was taught by a cantankerous old novelist/playwright. He talked a lot about persevering and life and getting through the long haul--most of which was lost at the time on my 24-year-old brain. Still, I remember more of his advice and asides than just about anything from the program, so I guess it made some impression. One thing he said was that success in writing was more about perseverance than talent. Lots of talented people, he said, give up because it's too hard. And there are folks with minimal talent who put themselves out there and somehow find just the right niche. He summed it up by saying, "If you want to be a published writer, you can be that. But don't depend on it to make you happy, because it won't."
Is this an American thing, I wonder--because we watch so many movies and read so much fiction that our expectations are horribly skewed? I always think that feel-good stories are wonderful things and really help ease life's burdens, but sometimes I wonder. Can those innocent stories cause harm by setting us up for disappointment? I know that during my first serious romantic relationship--which lasted for about three years and which I was sure would end in marriage, but didn't--I would catch myself feeling let-down. Again, the real thing just didn't seem to be quite what I expected.
Fifteen years down the road from Kristi, I'm far more content than I was. Partly because I've adjusted my expectations. I don't really expect life to go as smoothly or to satisfy. That sounds depressing, but it's really not. I love getting lost in stories and embracing them for what they are, and I'm so grateful for the small pleasures in life. After seeing what a struggle life is, I'm grateful for a good husband, for days when health is good and my family is happy.
As I commented on Kristi's post, I think this is a struggle that we all go through to some degree. The bad thing is when people don't recognize it for what it is--when they continue to think that the ultimate goal of life is to be happy with their earthly circumstances. Or that marriage and romance will make them giddy like it does in the movies. Or the right job or house or whatever will do the trick. So when they face the reality of plain old life, they figure something's wrong with that mate or that house or that job, and if they just change the circumstance, then they'll be happy again. At least if we start with the premise that that's a false notion, we know what to work on.
When I was in my mid twenties, I made a stab at L.A. and the film industry in my own way. I started a masters' degree in writing at the University of Southern California with a view toward becoming a screen writer. I might have been a flop at most things in life but had always done well academically, so I thought if there was a way to break into the industry through school, that would definitely be the way to go.
The classes were taught by successful screen writers and novelists and playwrights, so I pictured scenarios in which I wrote such amazing works for my class assignments that I would be discovered and catapulted to success. And I would live happily ever after in the world of film and make-believe.
A couple of days after I started the courses, I saw a bulletin board post that Burt Lancaster's production company was looking for interns from my writing program. I applied and immediately got the position. I wasn't particularly surprised. All was going exactly as I expected. My first step on that rung to happiness.
I discovered a curious thing. You can get exactly what you hoped for, and yet it can feel totally different. In the internship, I worked with only one man from the production company. Never did meet Burt or any celebrities. My supervisor was tactless and critical and strangely enough, never did gasp in amazement at my astounding talent. I'd go see him once a week to pick up assignments, and I discovered that visiting the production company was like visiting any other office of any other business. I remember, even after my first visit for the internship, having a let-down feeling and thinking, "This doesn't feel like I thought it would."
One of my courses at USC was taught by a cantankerous old novelist/playwright. He talked a lot about persevering and life and getting through the long haul--most of which was lost at the time on my 24-year-old brain. Still, I remember more of his advice and asides than just about anything from the program, so I guess it made some impression. One thing he said was that success in writing was more about perseverance than talent. Lots of talented people, he said, give up because it's too hard. And there are folks with minimal talent who put themselves out there and somehow find just the right niche. He summed it up by saying, "If you want to be a published writer, you can be that. But don't depend on it to make you happy, because it won't."
Is this an American thing, I wonder--because we watch so many movies and read so much fiction that our expectations are horribly skewed? I always think that feel-good stories are wonderful things and really help ease life's burdens, but sometimes I wonder. Can those innocent stories cause harm by setting us up for disappointment? I know that during my first serious romantic relationship--which lasted for about three years and which I was sure would end in marriage, but didn't--I would catch myself feeling let-down. Again, the real thing just didn't seem to be quite what I expected.
Fifteen years down the road from Kristi, I'm far more content than I was. Partly because I've adjusted my expectations. I don't really expect life to go as smoothly or to satisfy. That sounds depressing, but it's really not. I love getting lost in stories and embracing them for what they are, and I'm so grateful for the small pleasures in life. After seeing what a struggle life is, I'm grateful for a good husband, for days when health is good and my family is happy.
As I commented on Kristi's post, I think this is a struggle that we all go through to some degree. The bad thing is when people don't recognize it for what it is--when they continue to think that the ultimate goal of life is to be happy with their earthly circumstances. Or that marriage and romance will make them giddy like it does in the movies. Or the right job or house or whatever will do the trick. So when they face the reality of plain old life, they figure something's wrong with that mate or that house or that job, and if they just change the circumstance, then they'll be happy again. At least if we start with the premise that that's a false notion, we know what to work on.
Step two is to shift our focus to the eternal and the absolute, never-fail, never-disappointing joy that awaits us there.
I'm getting better at step one. Step two is still really hard for me. But I'm working on it.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
My "Revolutionary Road", Part II
I promised you a follow-up to Part I, and I don't want to split this one up, so please hang in there with me. Here goes...
I feel like this is difficult to write, partly because I am still smack-dab in the middle of it, still going through whatever this trial is. I would probably not be writing this, but I feel that God wants me to share some of the discoveries I have been making through His Spirit. I personally believe that God is preparing me spiritually for whatever it is I am supposed to do out here in LA, and is taking my faith to a new level. Right now, though, it just feels like I don't have much faith. Oh, I believe in Him, I love Him, but I have been wrestling with Him. I feel like I don't trust enough, like I don't love enough, like I have too many desires and distractions, and am having trouble putting Him first.
You know, I never understood until recently that whole story about Jacob wrestling with God. I always thought that sounded just wrong of Jacob. Who was he to wrestle with God? Why would God enter into such a thing with a mere man? I never liked the story much. But now I understand, I think.
Did you know this life is not about our happiness? I think I must have. Suddenly, however, seemingly out of the blue, it's a concept I'm having trouble with. Take "true love", for example. It's a concept we're all raised with, and I have come to think lately that subconsciously it has been a notion which has ruled many of my dreams and hopes over the years. That idea of one day finding that happiness which we all seek, which will be fulfilled in the perfect mate.
That's what Kate Winslet's character must have hoped for in the movie "Revolutionary Road", or she would not have married Leo DiCaprio's Frank Wheeler. But does it ever live up to our expectations? I hear once in a while about a marriage which is still full of passion many years later, or ones that get better over time, but still these are not the relationships we read about in the books. I once heard a line on one of my favorite TV shows of all time, "Northern Exposure" that I could not forget. RuthAnne, the store owner, is proposed to by a traveling salesman, and she declines, telling him that he is a romantic, and romantics are always disappointed with marriage. That stuck with me, and scared me a little.
The "Twilight" books are actually what acted as catalyst to this recent worry of mine. I say worry because I should be trusting it to God, but I mostly just worry obsessively over it. They portray such an amazing love story, and there are some really nice elements to the story. However, is it healthy to get drawn into such a romantic story? Does the dream for such a relationship become an idol when we make it so important? I understand all of the things I think I should- that God is who we are ultimately longing for when we long for that, that our happily ever after will be in Heaven with Him, that I need Him and nothing else.
But that does not keep me from wanting other things, or thinking sometimes that I am kind of sad that there is no marriage in Heaven like there is on earth. Of course, I don't think God says there will be no romantic love, but Jesus says there is no marriage (forgive the paraphrase). So I try to trust more, and only end up falling short in my thoughts. Thankfully, a friend reminded me yesterday in a wonderful piece of writing, that the thoughts are not always in sync with what the Spirit knows to be true, and that our inner selves are one with Christ no matter what our thoughts are doing. Right about now, though, I sure wish my thoughts would straighten up.
It all comes down to that whole thing that it is not about me. I started reading "The Purpose Driven Life", which my mother gave my years ago and I had not read yet. I was feeling unhappy and homesick and confused here in LA, even though God has provided over and beyond what I could have hoped for already. I was thinking I would be happier somewhere else, even though I have wanted to be in a position to pursue my dreams for so long. I was confused and needed direction. The first line of the first chapter says, "It's not about you."
Wow- really? I have become so self-involved over the last few years that I must have forgotten what I already knew. I went through so much with my divorce and tried to be so faithful to my marriage and do what was right, I think I came out with this idea that the rest of my life would be about me being happy. And that is not it at all! I believe God wants us to be happy, but His purpose for us is first, and ultimately, we are here to serve His purpose and Kingdom. Some of His beloved, faithful, highly-used servants and prophets suffered horrible earthly ends. Wasn't Isaiah sawed in half? The problem is when you are self-involved and have long-held notions and dreams about what you want that you think will make you happy, it is really tough to let go of those.
So there you go. I am struggling daily to surrender these dreams and hopes, even if that is ultimately what He wants for me. That is one reason I was so fascinated by "Revolutionary Road", because that is what most of us just don't get. We expect to be happy because that is what we were designed for- life with God. But we don't live in the world we were designed for. My reward is in Heaven, not here. And it is really hard to accept this and I constantly fail. I am a romantic and can't help but hope for these things. I can't help myself at all. I just hope that eventually, I will have such a strong love for Him and trust in Him that the rest just follows. I thought I did, but it's amazing what the Spirit will expose that we don't even have a clue is lurking underneath.
Recently my roommate and I were talking about the Bible, which is pretty cool considering she told me in clear terms before I moved here that she is not religious and does not like to talk about religion. Somehow we got on the subject of Abraham, and she wanted to know why God would make him wait all that time for what was promised to him. I think I started to tell her about learning to trust Him, which is true, I believe. But then it occurred to me. Maybe God wanted Abraham to realize that what he wanted so bad, to have a son, just was not as important as he thought it was. Not as important as serving His purpose and loving Him. It turns out, for Abraham, the two went hand in hand, but they may not always. Even Jesus prayed to have His cup taken from Him, but God's purpose was more important to Him than anything, so we can all be thankful for that fact!
I know some of you out there are romance writers, and please don't think I'm dissing on romance. I am a romantic dreamer of the most extreme kind, I think, which is one of the reasons this is a hard lesson to learn. But it's also a lesson that will hopefully help me to store up my treasures in Heaven, as Jesus commanded, and help me keep perspective out here in this place where what is really important is perhaps harder to see than it is anywhere else on earth. If I can ever come out on the other side of this trial, that is. Maybe you can send some prayers my way if you are reading this. I also may post my friend's article about the inner and outer consciousness, and oneness with Christ. It's great! Thanks for your patience with the long post! And one more thing- I am really thankful now that God is willing to wrestle with us and doesn't just quit on us!
I feel like this is difficult to write, partly because I am still smack-dab in the middle of it, still going through whatever this trial is. I would probably not be writing this, but I feel that God wants me to share some of the discoveries I have been making through His Spirit. I personally believe that God is preparing me spiritually for whatever it is I am supposed to do out here in LA, and is taking my faith to a new level. Right now, though, it just feels like I don't have much faith. Oh, I believe in Him, I love Him, but I have been wrestling with Him. I feel like I don't trust enough, like I don't love enough, like I have too many desires and distractions, and am having trouble putting Him first.
You know, I never understood until recently that whole story about Jacob wrestling with God. I always thought that sounded just wrong of Jacob. Who was he to wrestle with God? Why would God enter into such a thing with a mere man? I never liked the story much. But now I understand, I think.
Did you know this life is not about our happiness? I think I must have. Suddenly, however, seemingly out of the blue, it's a concept I'm having trouble with. Take "true love", for example. It's a concept we're all raised with, and I have come to think lately that subconsciously it has been a notion which has ruled many of my dreams and hopes over the years. That idea of one day finding that happiness which we all seek, which will be fulfilled in the perfect mate.
That's what Kate Winslet's character must have hoped for in the movie "Revolutionary Road", or she would not have married Leo DiCaprio's Frank Wheeler. But does it ever live up to our expectations? I hear once in a while about a marriage which is still full of passion many years later, or ones that get better over time, but still these are not the relationships we read about in the books. I once heard a line on one of my favorite TV shows of all time, "Northern Exposure" that I could not forget. RuthAnne, the store owner, is proposed to by a traveling salesman, and she declines, telling him that he is a romantic, and romantics are always disappointed with marriage. That stuck with me, and scared me a little.
The "Twilight" books are actually what acted as catalyst to this recent worry of mine. I say worry because I should be trusting it to God, but I mostly just worry obsessively over it. They portray such an amazing love story, and there are some really nice elements to the story. However, is it healthy to get drawn into such a romantic story? Does the dream for such a relationship become an idol when we make it so important? I understand all of the things I think I should- that God is who we are ultimately longing for when we long for that, that our happily ever after will be in Heaven with Him, that I need Him and nothing else.
But that does not keep me from wanting other things, or thinking sometimes that I am kind of sad that there is no marriage in Heaven like there is on earth. Of course, I don't think God says there will be no romantic love, but Jesus says there is no marriage (forgive the paraphrase). So I try to trust more, and only end up falling short in my thoughts. Thankfully, a friend reminded me yesterday in a wonderful piece of writing, that the thoughts are not always in sync with what the Spirit knows to be true, and that our inner selves are one with Christ no matter what our thoughts are doing. Right about now, though, I sure wish my thoughts would straighten up.
It all comes down to that whole thing that it is not about me. I started reading "The Purpose Driven Life", which my mother gave my years ago and I had not read yet. I was feeling unhappy and homesick and confused here in LA, even though God has provided over and beyond what I could have hoped for already. I was thinking I would be happier somewhere else, even though I have wanted to be in a position to pursue my dreams for so long. I was confused and needed direction. The first line of the first chapter says, "It's not about you."
Wow- really? I have become so self-involved over the last few years that I must have forgotten what I already knew. I went through so much with my divorce and tried to be so faithful to my marriage and do what was right, I think I came out with this idea that the rest of my life would be about me being happy. And that is not it at all! I believe God wants us to be happy, but His purpose for us is first, and ultimately, we are here to serve His purpose and Kingdom. Some of His beloved, faithful, highly-used servants and prophets suffered horrible earthly ends. Wasn't Isaiah sawed in half? The problem is when you are self-involved and have long-held notions and dreams about what you want that you think will make you happy, it is really tough to let go of those.
So there you go. I am struggling daily to surrender these dreams and hopes, even if that is ultimately what He wants for me. That is one reason I was so fascinated by "Revolutionary Road", because that is what most of us just don't get. We expect to be happy because that is what we were designed for- life with God. But we don't live in the world we were designed for. My reward is in Heaven, not here. And it is really hard to accept this and I constantly fail. I am a romantic and can't help but hope for these things. I can't help myself at all. I just hope that eventually, I will have such a strong love for Him and trust in Him that the rest just follows. I thought I did, but it's amazing what the Spirit will expose that we don't even have a clue is lurking underneath.
Recently my roommate and I were talking about the Bible, which is pretty cool considering she told me in clear terms before I moved here that she is not religious and does not like to talk about religion. Somehow we got on the subject of Abraham, and she wanted to know why God would make him wait all that time for what was promised to him. I think I started to tell her about learning to trust Him, which is true, I believe. But then it occurred to me. Maybe God wanted Abraham to realize that what he wanted so bad, to have a son, just was not as important as he thought it was. Not as important as serving His purpose and loving Him. It turns out, for Abraham, the two went hand in hand, but they may not always. Even Jesus prayed to have His cup taken from Him, but God's purpose was more important to Him than anything, so we can all be thankful for that fact!
I know some of you out there are romance writers, and please don't think I'm dissing on romance. I am a romantic dreamer of the most extreme kind, I think, which is one of the reasons this is a hard lesson to learn. But it's also a lesson that will hopefully help me to store up my treasures in Heaven, as Jesus commanded, and help me keep perspective out here in this place where what is really important is perhaps harder to see than it is anywhere else on earth. If I can ever come out on the other side of this trial, that is. Maybe you can send some prayers my way if you are reading this. I also may post my friend's article about the inner and outer consciousness, and oneness with Christ. It's great! Thanks for your patience with the long post! And one more thing- I am really thankful now that God is willing to wrestle with us and doesn't just quit on us!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Kristi's Revolutionary Road: A Response
First, I am doing this blog post because I’m afraid you missed Kristi’s entry on the movie Revolutionary Road, and how it pertains to some of her own struggles. I don’t think the email update went out to subscribers, and it’s too good a post to miss.
Second, I started writing a comment on her article and realized it was turning into a post of my own. So I’m putting it here instead.
It’s funny. I know almost nothing about the movie Revolutionary Road, but this is the second time I’ve read about it in the last couple of days. The other time, it was only mentioned briefly, in an article bemoaning the fact that people don’t want to go see realistic “adult” dramas these days, but instead seem to want escapism in the form of fantasy or comedy. This article mentioned Revolutionary Road as one of the supposedly high quality dramas that no one wants to see.
Well, duh. I know Christian fiction is sometimes criticized for glossing over the rough stuff of reality. I’m one of the people who has made that criticism. But I think we need balance in our stories—books, movies, whatever. We shouldn’t be afraid to admit how tough life is, but we should offer some hope. Not pat, easy answers that ring false, but hope.
I think everyone knows how tough life can be. Do we particularly need literature to tell us that?
What we don’t know, sometimes, is that there is hope when things seem hopeless. Kristi asked what we would say to folks like the couple in Revolutionary Road. Well, obviously, one of those pat, easy answers would be that they need God. I haven’t seen the movie, but it sounds as if these people are hopelessly mired in earthly things, in their own petty ambitions and concerns.
Ted Dekker has a great book called The Slumber of Christianity, which talks about this very thing. That Westerners, including Christians sadly, have lost the ability to imagine Heaven and so are concentrating on finding fulfillment in the here and now. And human beings are wired for the eternal, so that’s never going to work.
I’m starting to ramble on, but this is Kristi’s subject, so I’ll let her pick this thread back up in her next post.
Second, I started writing a comment on her article and realized it was turning into a post of my own. So I’m putting it here instead.
It’s funny. I know almost nothing about the movie Revolutionary Road, but this is the second time I’ve read about it in the last couple of days. The other time, it was only mentioned briefly, in an article bemoaning the fact that people don’t want to go see realistic “adult” dramas these days, but instead seem to want escapism in the form of fantasy or comedy. This article mentioned Revolutionary Road as one of the supposedly high quality dramas that no one wants to see.
Well, duh. I know Christian fiction is sometimes criticized for glossing over the rough stuff of reality. I’m one of the people who has made that criticism. But I think we need balance in our stories—books, movies, whatever. We shouldn’t be afraid to admit how tough life is, but we should offer some hope. Not pat, easy answers that ring false, but hope.
I think everyone knows how tough life can be. Do we particularly need literature to tell us that?
What we don’t know, sometimes, is that there is hope when things seem hopeless. Kristi asked what we would say to folks like the couple in Revolutionary Road. Well, obviously, one of those pat, easy answers would be that they need God. I haven’t seen the movie, but it sounds as if these people are hopelessly mired in earthly things, in their own petty ambitions and concerns.
Ted Dekker has a great book called The Slumber of Christianity, which talks about this very thing. That Westerners, including Christians sadly, have lost the ability to imagine Heaven and so are concentrating on finding fulfillment in the here and now. And human beings are wired for the eternal, so that’s never going to work.
I’m starting to ramble on, but this is Kristi’s subject, so I’ll let her pick this thread back up in her next post.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Joy: Sampling the Eternal
Hey everybody. It's me again, Kristi. I thought I would share with you all today something I wrote a little over a year ago, while I was in school. It was for a Senior Seminar class, and we had been working all semester on figuring out where we as "artist/scholars" were at that present time, and where we wanted to go in our artistic endeavors. The term "artist/scholar" was big in our Theatre and Performance Studies department. We were pushed to strive for both.
This theme, though, is one I have been thinking a lot about lately, as I plan to move West very soon. It helps me to remember why I am going, and what my goals will hopefully always be- what they should be, I believe.
I focus on C.S. Lewis in this piece, because through his writing and discoveries, more than any other author's, I have made amazing realizations about who I am as an artist, and what I believe art is. I plan to write a lot about this on our blog, because it really is what we are trying to relate through Dimensions. (I think Robin would agree- I hope so, anyway!) I believe God led me to Lewis' writings, and enabled me to make these incredibly important connections. Maybe you can make some connections as well. They have truly been life-changing for me. For now, though, I hope you enjoy this post!
“In speaking of this desire for our own far off country… even now I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like nostalgia and romanticism and adolescence. The secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly longing for it. And we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of the name, “Heaven.”
C.S. Lewis
The students from Dead Poets Society who stood on the tops of their desks, quoting Walt Whitman in a show of support for their teacher, understood the concept of yearning, of the “inconsolable secret”- what the artist/scholar C.S. Lewis called “Joy” (with a capital J)- specifically brought about by encounters with art. Lewis had experienced this Joy in art, and his efforts to find its true source, to understand this Joy, eventually led to his conversion from Atheism to Theism, and finally to Christianity. These experiences of what he calls that “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction” were the central story of Lewis’ life. In his autobiographical work Surprised by Joy, Lewis writes:
I had become fond of Longfellow’s Saga of King Olaf: fond of it in
a casual, shallow way for its story and its vigorous rhythms. But then,
and quite different from such pleasures, and like a voice from far
more distant regions, there came a moment when I idly turned the
pages of the book and found…
‘I heard a voice that cried,
Balder the Beautiful,
Is dead, is dead’
…instantly I was uplifted into huge regions of northern sky, I desired with almost sickening intensity something never to be described…and then…found myself at the very same moment already falling out of that desire and wishing I were back in it.”
For Lewis, there was no doubt that Joy was a desire, but a desire for what? Did he really long to be inside of the poem, at the moment when Balder fell? Did he long for the things, people, and places he found there? Did he long for Joy itself? After many years of searching, he wrote that “the form of the desired is in the desire”, and that “it is the object which makes the desire harsh or sweet, coarse or choice, ‘high’ or ‘low’… Inexorably Joy proclaimed, ‘You want- I myself am your want of- something other, outside, not you nor any state of you.’”
My own run-ins with Joy after certain artistic events have led me on a similar search. I have lived through powerful, emotional days, sometimes weeks, of bittersweet agony after some of these moments. I wondered, “What is this I am feeling? What is it that I want?” Though I was already approaching the question as a Christian, I did not immediately make the connection. I began at basically the same place as Lewis. If I have one such experience while watching Out of Africa, it must be for Africa I long. But then when I remember that I do not even like camping that much, and that I greatly enjoy the comforts of an air-conditioned room, I must conclude that African safari is not the desired object. Then what is?
Certainly, we as humans relate to the beauty of love between dear old friends, and the great loss experienced when one dies. We long for the kinship that exists among unlikely comrades, and we ache at the mere existence of a so-called impossible bond. But there is more than simply relating. These instances of Joy go beyond empathy, beyond understanding. These moments are, as Lewis describes them, “something quite different from ordinary life and even from ordinary pleasure; something… ‘in another dimension.’” Though this “broken and exalted” Joy has come to me at moments in various art forms-animation, children’s literature, epic films, paintings, music- I list heavily toward the genre of science-fiction/ fantasy. The connection between this artistic realm and the heavenly realm is there. Considering Lewis’ search for the Source of Joy, it is natural that he would have made that connection. In his book Of Other Worlds, Lewis writes about the brilliance of the author David Lindsay and his book Voyage to Arcturus:
"His Tormance is a region of the spirit. He is the first writer to discover what ‘other planets’ are really good for in fiction. No merely physical strangeness or merely spatial distance will realize that idea of otherness which is what we are always trying to grasp in a story about voyaging through space: you must go into another dimension. To construct plausible and moving ‘other worlds’ you must draw on the only real ‘other world’ we know, that of the spirit."
Here we find the call to destiny on a greater scale. Though we may relate to this call, the imagined world is larger than life- a world apart. And when the enemy must be faced there- and the enemy must always be faced there, the stakes of the battle take on epic importance. The hero comes to the edge of defeat, but here the risk of loss knows only the limits of the imagination. And finally, after an otherworldly quest has been undertaken and the heightened battle fought, victory is that much more rewarding- to have fought against all odds and returned from the edge victorious, he is able to share in camaraderie with those who have struggled by his side. We have participated in something known and relatable, yet somehow totally foreign. Lewis himself loved this genre so much that he created his own imaginary world, in The Chronicles of Narnia.
Then, there are those episodes of Joy sparked by that occasional piece which brings together all of the elements in one grand synthesis. Why am I an artist? So that perhaps one day I can create something as wonderful as Michael Mann’s film Last of the Mohicans- a piece in which all of the elements speak to the spirit, and all of the technical elements come together to create a whole which is greater than its parts- something which may spark in someone else that which has been sparked in me- something by which I could whisper a hint of that “inconsolable secret” into the ear of another.
The artistic realm is the only place I have ever experienced these moments, these “road signs” which point “to something other and outer.” The artist has been given a unique gift- the gift of creation, a sampling of the eternal. Perhaps as a creator, the artist represents one meaning in the Truth that man is created in God’s Image. My hope is to point others, through my creations, to Him Who is greater than me, Who is Other, Outside of, and Higher than me- the Master Artist, the Great Creator. To show others the Joy which has been shown to me- this is my goal as an artist.
This theme, though, is one I have been thinking a lot about lately, as I plan to move West very soon. It helps me to remember why I am going, and what my goals will hopefully always be- what they should be, I believe.
I focus on C.S. Lewis in this piece, because through his writing and discoveries, more than any other author's, I have made amazing realizations about who I am as an artist, and what I believe art is. I plan to write a lot about this on our blog, because it really is what we are trying to relate through Dimensions. (I think Robin would agree- I hope so, anyway!) I believe God led me to Lewis' writings, and enabled me to make these incredibly important connections. Maybe you can make some connections as well. They have truly been life-changing for me. For now, though, I hope you enjoy this post!
“In speaking of this desire for our own far off country… even now I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like nostalgia and romanticism and adolescence. The secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly longing for it. And we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of the name, “Heaven.”
C.S. Lewis
The students from Dead Poets Society who stood on the tops of their desks, quoting Walt Whitman in a show of support for their teacher, understood the concept of yearning, of the “inconsolable secret”- what the artist/scholar C.S. Lewis called “Joy” (with a capital J)- specifically brought about by encounters with art. Lewis had experienced this Joy in art, and his efforts to find its true source, to understand this Joy, eventually led to his conversion from Atheism to Theism, and finally to Christianity. These experiences of what he calls that “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction” were the central story of Lewis’ life. In his autobiographical work Surprised by Joy, Lewis writes:
I had become fond of Longfellow’s Saga of King Olaf: fond of it in
a casual, shallow way for its story and its vigorous rhythms. But then,
and quite different from such pleasures, and like a voice from far
more distant regions, there came a moment when I idly turned the
pages of the book and found…
‘I heard a voice that cried,
Balder the Beautiful,
Is dead, is dead’
…instantly I was uplifted into huge regions of northern sky, I desired with almost sickening intensity something never to be described…and then…found myself at the very same moment already falling out of that desire and wishing I were back in it.”
For Lewis, there was no doubt that Joy was a desire, but a desire for what? Did he really long to be inside of the poem, at the moment when Balder fell? Did he long for the things, people, and places he found there? Did he long for Joy itself? After many years of searching, he wrote that “the form of the desired is in the desire”, and that “it is the object which makes the desire harsh or sweet, coarse or choice, ‘high’ or ‘low’… Inexorably Joy proclaimed, ‘You want- I myself am your want of- something other, outside, not you nor any state of you.’”
My own run-ins with Joy after certain artistic events have led me on a similar search. I have lived through powerful, emotional days, sometimes weeks, of bittersweet agony after some of these moments. I wondered, “What is this I am feeling? What is it that I want?” Though I was already approaching the question as a Christian, I did not immediately make the connection. I began at basically the same place as Lewis. If I have one such experience while watching Out of Africa, it must be for Africa I long. But then when I remember that I do not even like camping that much, and that I greatly enjoy the comforts of an air-conditioned room, I must conclude that African safari is not the desired object. Then what is?
Certainly, we as humans relate to the beauty of love between dear old friends, and the great loss experienced when one dies. We long for the kinship that exists among unlikely comrades, and we ache at the mere existence of a so-called impossible bond. But there is more than simply relating. These instances of Joy go beyond empathy, beyond understanding. These moments are, as Lewis describes them, “something quite different from ordinary life and even from ordinary pleasure; something… ‘in another dimension.’” Though this “broken and exalted” Joy has come to me at moments in various art forms-animation, children’s literature, epic films, paintings, music- I list heavily toward the genre of science-fiction/ fantasy. The connection between this artistic realm and the heavenly realm is there. Considering Lewis’ search for the Source of Joy, it is natural that he would have made that connection. In his book Of Other Worlds, Lewis writes about the brilliance of the author David Lindsay and his book Voyage to Arcturus:
"His Tormance is a region of the spirit. He is the first writer to discover what ‘other planets’ are really good for in fiction. No merely physical strangeness or merely spatial distance will realize that idea of otherness which is what we are always trying to grasp in a story about voyaging through space: you must go into another dimension. To construct plausible and moving ‘other worlds’ you must draw on the only real ‘other world’ we know, that of the spirit."
Here we find the call to destiny on a greater scale. Though we may relate to this call, the imagined world is larger than life- a world apart. And when the enemy must be faced there- and the enemy must always be faced there, the stakes of the battle take on epic importance. The hero comes to the edge of defeat, but here the risk of loss knows only the limits of the imagination. And finally, after an otherworldly quest has been undertaken and the heightened battle fought, victory is that much more rewarding- to have fought against all odds and returned from the edge victorious, he is able to share in camaraderie with those who have struggled by his side. We have participated in something known and relatable, yet somehow totally foreign. Lewis himself loved this genre so much that he created his own imaginary world, in The Chronicles of Narnia.
Then, there are those episodes of Joy sparked by that occasional piece which brings together all of the elements in one grand synthesis. Why am I an artist? So that perhaps one day I can create something as wonderful as Michael Mann’s film Last of the Mohicans- a piece in which all of the elements speak to the spirit, and all of the technical elements come together to create a whole which is greater than its parts- something which may spark in someone else that which has been sparked in me- something by which I could whisper a hint of that “inconsolable secret” into the ear of another.
The artistic realm is the only place I have ever experienced these moments, these “road signs” which point “to something other and outer.” The artist has been given a unique gift- the gift of creation, a sampling of the eternal. Perhaps as a creator, the artist represents one meaning in the Truth that man is created in God’s Image. My hope is to point others, through my creations, to Him Who is greater than me, Who is Other, Outside of, and Higher than me- the Master Artist, the Great Creator. To show others the Joy which has been shown to me- this is my goal as an artist.
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