Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
Random House, 2003
Well, I know it's only January and there are months of reading ahead, but so far, this is my favorite read of the year! It is a "memoir in books," in which Azar Nafisi tells her story of teaching English literature in Iran, primarily to young girls struggling in that country full of revolution and religion mixed with politics. First of all, I must admit that I will never be able to discuss this well. I have no idea, although now just a glimpse, of what their lives were like and can only barely grasp how the English novels affected them living in Iran. I know now only a little bit of how much I don't know about women whose lives are such. I dare not try to speak of it.
The book is divided into four sections: Lolita, Gatsby, James and Austen. Of these four, I have never read anything by James, but would like to suggest it to my reading group. I just finished Lolita. I read Gatsby in high school and can only remember pastel colors and a swimming pool. And of Jane Austen, I know only Pride and Prejudice.
The first thing that struck me in the Lolita section was the difference between my perspective and "take" on the novel and that of Nafisi's "girls." I related to the villain, Humbert, and his struggle (or lack of) with his despicable nature. The Iranian girls' related to Lolita, who had not only her future taken from her, but her past and present stolen as well. I learn from this that much goes into reading a novel, and the lenses through which I read have much to do with it's meaning to me. When Nafisi describes to her reader (me) the story of Lolita, she says, "This was the story of a twelve-year-old girl who had nowhere to go....the desperate truth of Lolita's story is...the confiscation of one individual's life by another. (p. 33)
Of Lolita, her students and herself, Nafisi writes, "It is amazing how, when all possibilities seem to be taken away from you, the minutest opening can become a great freedom." (p. 28)
Other good words from Nafisi:
We are also informed of her "real" name, Dolores, the Spanish word for pain. (p. 36)
Nafisi's Manna: "It's strange," she said, "but some critics seem to treat the text the same way Humbert treats Lolita: they only see themselves and what they want to see." (p. 50)
The best fiction always forced us to question what we took for granted....I told my students I wanted them in their readings to consider in what ways these works unsettled them, made them a little uneasy, made them look around and consider the world, like Alice in Wonderland, through different eyes. (p. 94)
A novel is not an allegory...It is the sensual experience of another world. If you don't enter that world, hold your breath with the characters and become involved in their destiny, you won't be able to empathize, and empathy is at the heart of the novel. This is how you read a novel: you inhale the experience. (p. 111)
It (a novel) can be called moral when it shakes us out of our stupor and makes us confront the absolutes we believe in.
The chair trick: "I asked a few students to stand in different places around the room, and asked both those standing and those sitting to describe the same chair. You see this is a chair, but when you come to describe it, you do so from where you are positioned, and from your own perspective, and so you cannot say there is only one way of seeing a chair, can you? (p. 199) Postmodernism? The description of the chair may very with perspective, but do they all agree that it is a chair?
I believe this is how the villain in modern fiction is born: a creature without compassion, without empathy. (p. 224)
And then there is The Ambassadors, I continued, where we find several different kinds of courage, but the most courageous characters here are those with imagination, those who, through their imaginative faculty, can empathize with others. When you lack this kind of courage, you remain ignorant of others' feelings and needs. Does that sound like Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird? Walking in someone else's shoes.
I really enjoyed this book and what it has spoken to me about not only reading fiction, but about women in Iran.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Eruptions of Grace
The Cloiser Walk by Kathleen Norris
Riverhead Books, New York, 1996.
This was a selection (my genre of choice: memoirs) for our CPC reading group for February discussion. It was recommended in Gladys Hunt's Honey for a Woman's Heart and by Dr. Calhoun, in my Ancient and Medieval Church History class at Covenant Seminary. I've owned the book for over a year, but hadn't gotten to read it yet. It is Presbyterian Mrs. Norris' memoir of her two nine-month stays at a Benedictine monastery. I love memoirs more than any other genre. Maybe it's because they are easier to understand - no figuring out symbolism or meaning...just reading someone else's story. I always benefit from hearing from others. I know I have a ways to grow in my fiction reading, and I want to, but I always look forward to reading these real life stories.
I have lots of notes for this book. I will have to lead our discussion in a few weeks, so hopefully this will help me organize my thoughts. I asked the book club to jot down things that resonated with them, but also things that caused them to raise an eyebrow.
Here are some of mine:
(nod) The monastic perspective welcomes time as a gift from God, and seeks to put it to good use rather than allowing us to be used up by it. (xix)
(eyebrow) Doctrine and dogma are effectively submerged; present, but not the point. When I quote from scripture in this book, I am not trying to convince the reader that I have some hold on the truth. I am telling the story of the Liturgy of the Hours as I have experienced it, as "an open door, which no one is able to shut" (Rev 3:8). (xxi)
Her purpose - fair enough.
In just a few days I'd be back with my husband, to take up life in the ruins. (p. 3)
(nod) And when the "thorns of contention" arise in daily life, daily forgive, and be willing to accept forgiveness. Remember that you are not the center of the universe but, to use Benedict's words, "keep death daily before your eyes." (p. 8)
Can I say this? Regarding St. Therese: She herself had become impoverished by the loss of a sense of God's presence that had been with her all her life. She saw this as grace, that God should permit her to be overwhelmed by impenetrable darkness. Again, she adresses God: "Lord, your child has understood your divine light: she asks pardon for her brothers, and consents to eat for a long as you wish it the bread of sorrow, and she will not rise from this table, which is filled with bitterness, where poor sinners eat, until the day you have appointed"....Therese concludes boldly, "I told [the Lord] that I am happy not to enjoy heaven here on earth in order that he may open heaven for ever to poor unbelievers." (p. 28)
(vigorous nod/some eyebrow too) I began to despise mathematics when I sensed that I was getting only part of the story, a dull, literal-minded version of what in fact was a great mystery, and I wonder if children don't begin to reject both poetry and religion for similar reasons, because the way both are taught takes the life out of them. If we teach children when they're young to reject their epiphanies, then it's no wonder that we end up with so many adults who are mathematically, poetically, and theologically illiterate. (p. 60)
(nod) If faith, like poetry, is a process, not a product, then this class will be messier than we imagine. (p. 62)
(eyebrow?) "When it comes to faith, while there are guidelines...there is no one right way to do it...." She quotes Martin Buber: "All of us have access to God, but each has a different access" Does this mean different gods, or simply different stories? I think it's the latter....we each have a different, but significant story. We don't need someone else's story.
(eyebrow) Quoting Bishop John V. Taylor: "Imagination and faith are the same thing, giving substance to our hopes and reality to the unseen.
(nod) The Psalms defeat our tendency to try to be holy without being human first. ( p. 96) (Allender/Longman's The Cry of the Soul)
worship in community: One soon finds that a strength of the monastic choir is that it always contains someone ready to lament over a lifetime of days of "emptiness and pain" or to shout with a joy loud enough to make "the rivers clap their hands" (p. 101)
I frequently take consolation in Gregory's sense that with God there is always more unfolding, that what we can glimpse of the divine is always exactly enough, and never enough. (p. 113)
"Listen" is the first word of St. Benedict's Rule for monasteries, and listening for the eruptions of grace into one's life - often from unlikely sources - is a "quality of attention" that both monastic living and the practice of writing tend to cultivate. (p. 143)
Riverhead Books, New York, 1996.
This was a selection (my genre of choice: memoirs) for our CPC reading group for February discussion. It was recommended in Gladys Hunt's Honey for a Woman's Heart and by Dr. Calhoun, in my Ancient and Medieval Church History class at Covenant Seminary. I've owned the book for over a year, but hadn't gotten to read it yet. It is Presbyterian Mrs. Norris' memoir of her two nine-month stays at a Benedictine monastery. I love memoirs more than any other genre. Maybe it's because they are easier to understand - no figuring out symbolism or meaning...just reading someone else's story. I always benefit from hearing from others. I know I have a ways to grow in my fiction reading, and I want to, but I always look forward to reading these real life stories.
I have lots of notes for this book. I will have to lead our discussion in a few weeks, so hopefully this will help me organize my thoughts. I asked the book club to jot down things that resonated with them, but also things that caused them to raise an eyebrow.
Here are some of mine:
(nod) The monastic perspective welcomes time as a gift from God, and seeks to put it to good use rather than allowing us to be used up by it. (xix)
(eyebrow) Doctrine and dogma are effectively submerged; present, but not the point. When I quote from scripture in this book, I am not trying to convince the reader that I have some hold on the truth. I am telling the story of the Liturgy of the Hours as I have experienced it, as "an open door, which no one is able to shut" (Rev 3:8). (xxi)
Her purpose - fair enough.
In just a few days I'd be back with my husband, to take up life in the ruins. (p. 3)
(nod) And when the "thorns of contention" arise in daily life, daily forgive, and be willing to accept forgiveness. Remember that you are not the center of the universe but, to use Benedict's words, "keep death daily before your eyes." (p. 8)
Can I say this? Regarding St. Therese: She herself had become impoverished by the loss of a sense of God's presence that had been with her all her life. She saw this as grace, that God should permit her to be overwhelmed by impenetrable darkness. Again, she adresses God: "Lord, your child has understood your divine light: she asks pardon for her brothers, and consents to eat for a long as you wish it the bread of sorrow, and she will not rise from this table, which is filled with bitterness, where poor sinners eat, until the day you have appointed"....Therese concludes boldly, "I told [the Lord] that I am happy not to enjoy heaven here on earth in order that he may open heaven for ever to poor unbelievers." (p. 28)
(vigorous nod/some eyebrow too) I began to despise mathematics when I sensed that I was getting only part of the story, a dull, literal-minded version of what in fact was a great mystery, and I wonder if children don't begin to reject both poetry and religion for similar reasons, because the way both are taught takes the life out of them. If we teach children when they're young to reject their epiphanies, then it's no wonder that we end up with so many adults who are mathematically, poetically, and theologically illiterate. (p. 60)
(nod) If faith, like poetry, is a process, not a product, then this class will be messier than we imagine. (p. 62)
(eyebrow?) "When it comes to faith, while there are guidelines...there is no one right way to do it...." She quotes Martin Buber: "All of us have access to God, but each has a different access" Does this mean different gods, or simply different stories? I think it's the latter....we each have a different, but significant story. We don't need someone else's story.
(eyebrow) Quoting Bishop John V. Taylor: "Imagination and faith are the same thing, giving substance to our hopes and reality to the unseen.
(nod) The Psalms defeat our tendency to try to be holy without being human first. ( p. 96) (Allender/Longman's The Cry of the Soul)
worship in community: One soon finds that a strength of the monastic choir is that it always contains someone ready to lament over a lifetime of days of "emptiness and pain" or to shout with a joy loud enough to make "the rivers clap their hands" (p. 101)
I frequently take consolation in Gregory's sense that with God there is always more unfolding, that what we can glimpse of the divine is always exactly enough, and never enough. (p. 113)
"Listen" is the first word of St. Benedict's Rule for monasteries, and listening for the eruptions of grace into one's life - often from unlikely sources - is a "quality of attention" that both monastic living and the practice of writing tend to cultivate. (p. 143)
Only one language of the soul
Walking from East to West by Ravi Zacharias
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2006.
This is Ravi Zacharias' memoir of his spiritual journey. I enjoyed reading it, gaining a better understanding of some of the cultural differences he experienced growing up in India. It is wonderful to see how God works in all cultures to bring his people to Himself.
In a proverbial sense, soil and soul define the "I" and "U," and if we do not understand this, we will never understand the East. Religion, language, and ancestral indebtedness are carved into the consciousness of every child of the East. And this is what makes conversion to any other faith an upheaval of titanic proportions...Being able to speak in two languages from opposite ends of the world helps you to be sympathetic and, I believe, effective in not just hearing but listening; in responding not just to the question but to the questioner. (p. 36)
To celebrate, I planted two mango trees...Forty years later, when I visited, they would greet me at towering new heights of thirty or so feet, with the present residents telling me they harvest a huge crop of mangoes each year from those two trees. They now shade the back lawn with the rich aromas of mangoes in season. (p. 51)
While the languages of the tongue and the anguish of experience may vary, the language of the soul is the same all over the world. (p. 229)
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2006.
This is Ravi Zacharias' memoir of his spiritual journey. I enjoyed reading it, gaining a better understanding of some of the cultural differences he experienced growing up in India. It is wonderful to see how God works in all cultures to bring his people to Himself.
In a proverbial sense, soil and soul define the "I" and "U," and if we do not understand this, we will never understand the East. Religion, language, and ancestral indebtedness are carved into the consciousness of every child of the East. And this is what makes conversion to any other faith an upheaval of titanic proportions...Being able to speak in two languages from opposite ends of the world helps you to be sympathetic and, I believe, effective in not just hearing but listening; in responding not just to the question but to the questioner. (p. 36)
To celebrate, I planted two mango trees...Forty years later, when I visited, they would greet me at towering new heights of thirty or so feet, with the present residents telling me they harvest a huge crop of mangoes each year from those two trees. They now shade the back lawn with the rich aromas of mangoes in season. (p. 51)
While the languages of the tongue and the anguish of experience may vary, the language of the soul is the same all over the world. (p. 229)
Love poured out
A Promise Kept by Robertson McQuilkin
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois, 1998.
This is an unforgettable story of a love between a husband and wife, Robertson and Muriel McQuilkin. As Muriel, with Alzheimer's, slowed down and found her only security in the presence of her husband, Robertson retired from his position as president of Columbia Bible College and Seminary to care for her at home.
No one ever needed me like Muriel, and no one ever responded to my efforts so totally as she. It's the nearest thing I've experienced on a human plane to what my relationship with God was designed to be: God's unfailing love poured out in constant care of helpless me. (p. 33)
Of course, the passion of his love for me never cooled. Even in the darkest hours, when I felt my grip slipping and I was in danger of sliding into the abyss of doubt, what always caught and held me was the vision of God's best-loved, pinioned in criminal execution in my place. (p. 62)
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois, 1998.
This is an unforgettable story of a love between a husband and wife, Robertson and Muriel McQuilkin. As Muriel, with Alzheimer's, slowed down and found her only security in the presence of her husband, Robertson retired from his position as president of Columbia Bible College and Seminary to care for her at home.
No one ever needed me like Muriel, and no one ever responded to my efforts so totally as she. It's the nearest thing I've experienced on a human plane to what my relationship with God was designed to be: God's unfailing love poured out in constant care of helpless me. (p. 33)
Of course, the passion of his love for me never cooled. Even in the darkest hours, when I felt my grip slipping and I was in danger of sliding into the abyss of doubt, what always caught and held me was the vision of God's best-loved, pinioned in criminal execution in my place. (p. 62)
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Only One Story
How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas C. Foster
Harper Collins, 2003.
This book fits under my "learning to read" category. I enjoyed this accessible and entertaining guide to reading literature. The two books I am most interested in reading are Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon, which Foster refers to in many of the chapters, and Tim O'Brien's Going After Cacciato.
I am most intrigued by Foster's emphasis, more than once in his book, that "there's only one story...Ever. One." (p. 32) He gives this topic a whole chapter in the Interlude. He asks what this one story is about and replies, "That's probably the best question you'll ever ask, and I apologize for responding with a really lame answer: I don't know....I suppose what the one story, the ur-story, is about is ourselves, about what it means to be human. I mean, what else is there?" (p. 186)
Is this like Paul's finding a statue to an unknown god? Can we know the story that all storytellers have been trying to tell? I will take this as I read from here on out and see how storytellers answer the question...what does it mean to be human?
Harper Collins, 2003.
This book fits under my "learning to read" category. I enjoyed this accessible and entertaining guide to reading literature. The two books I am most interested in reading are Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon, which Foster refers to in many of the chapters, and Tim O'Brien's Going After Cacciato.
I am most intrigued by Foster's emphasis, more than once in his book, that "there's only one story...Ever. One." (p. 32) He gives this topic a whole chapter in the Interlude. He asks what this one story is about and replies, "That's probably the best question you'll ever ask, and I apologize for responding with a really lame answer: I don't know....I suppose what the one story, the ur-story, is about is ourselves, about what it means to be human. I mean, what else is there?" (p. 186)
Is this like Paul's finding a statue to an unknown god? Can we know the story that all storytellers have been trying to tell? I will take this as I read from here on out and see how storytellers answer the question...what does it mean to be human?
Aesthetic Bliss???
Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
Lolita is a book club selection to be discussed at our early February meeting. I was nervous about reading the novel - I was vaguely familiar with the subject matter, and not looking forward to it. However, it was not as graphic as I feared, though every page was filled with the perverted thoughts and actions of Humbert Humbert.
First of all, I now understand why so many readers include Lolita on their Deserted Island book list: http://booklust.wetpaint.com/page/Desert+Island+Books. There is SO MUCH there, that I'm sure I missed more than half of Nabokov's references and allusions and understood less than half of those I caught. I also thought someone must have put together a "Lolita Dictionary" with all of Nabokov's new words and phrases. I googled it and found nothing. His use of the English language, especially considering it's not his native language, is amazing. His language fit his subject: I'd describe it as "juicy" and almost "voluptuous." Some have claimed that Lolita "was the record of [Nabokov's] love affair with the English language," although he would substitute "romantic novel" for "English language" for the statement to be "more correct." (p. 318)
I also found myself amused as I read...yes, it's actually funny, and I'm almost embarrassed to say so. I chuckled when he referred to himself and Charlotte as "Hum and Mum" with regard to Dolores. Also, his description of the "waterfalls" in the hotels brought a giggle. There are more.
Yet, the story is so sick and disturbing. It is horrific. Dolores has no hope.
Irony - I only have a glimpse of the depth of irony in the novel. In the author's note at the end, Nabokov says, "For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm." (p. 317) What irony that sich a hideous story could hold aesthetic bliss - but it somehow does.
To me, this story is about giving up, having no power, in the struggle to keep the "laws of humanity." Humbert knows that his lusts are immoral. In the beginning, he attempts to curb them through his marriage to Valeria, but with no real success. (Or does he even try...I'm still struggling with grasping the irony!) Throughout the story, he never tries to justify himself. He continually refers to his "accursed nature" which "could not change." (p. 259) Driving away from the murder scene, it occured to Humbert, "that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong side of the road. In a way, it was a very spiritual itch." (p. 308) The laws of humanity do exist, as do the rules of traffic. Humbert disregards these rules...humanity's rules he is too weak in his own power to keep due to the strength of his temptation, his lust. The traffic rules he deliberately disobeys.
But for the grace of God, there go I? Nabokov presents a character that, horrifying though he is, I can relate to, sad to say. This is disturbing to me, yet true. Humbert is human - fallen, as I am. I know I am capable of the same atrocities, but for the grace of God, whether I know it or not. It is God whose grace keeps me from being as bad as I could possibly be. And it is God's Spirit which strengthens me in the face of temptation - to judge, gossip, complain, to be greedy, materialistic, idolatrous, etc. And it is the grace and mercy and forgiveness of God that restores me when I fail.
I don't think I'll take this in my book bag to the deserted island, but I can appreciate those who will.
Lolita is a book club selection to be discussed at our early February meeting. I was nervous about reading the novel - I was vaguely familiar with the subject matter, and not looking forward to it. However, it was not as graphic as I feared, though every page was filled with the perverted thoughts and actions of Humbert Humbert.
First of all, I now understand why so many readers include Lolita on their Deserted Island book list: http://booklust.wetpaint.com/page/Desert+Island+Books. There is SO MUCH there, that I'm sure I missed more than half of Nabokov's references and allusions and understood less than half of those I caught. I also thought someone must have put together a "Lolita Dictionary" with all of Nabokov's new words and phrases. I googled it and found nothing. His use of the English language, especially considering it's not his native language, is amazing. His language fit his subject: I'd describe it as "juicy" and almost "voluptuous." Some have claimed that Lolita "was the record of [Nabokov's] love affair with the English language," although he would substitute "romantic novel" for "English language" for the statement to be "more correct." (p. 318)
I also found myself amused as I read...yes, it's actually funny, and I'm almost embarrassed to say so. I chuckled when he referred to himself and Charlotte as "Hum and Mum" with regard to Dolores. Also, his description of the "waterfalls" in the hotels brought a giggle. There are more.
Yet, the story is so sick and disturbing. It is horrific. Dolores has no hope.
Irony - I only have a glimpse of the depth of irony in the novel. In the author's note at the end, Nabokov says, "For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm." (p. 317) What irony that sich a hideous story could hold aesthetic bliss - but it somehow does.
To me, this story is about giving up, having no power, in the struggle to keep the "laws of humanity." Humbert knows that his lusts are immoral. In the beginning, he attempts to curb them through his marriage to Valeria, but with no real success. (Or does he even try...I'm still struggling with grasping the irony!) Throughout the story, he never tries to justify himself. He continually refers to his "accursed nature" which "could not change." (p. 259) Driving away from the murder scene, it occured to Humbert, "that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong side of the road. In a way, it was a very spiritual itch." (p. 308) The laws of humanity do exist, as do the rules of traffic. Humbert disregards these rules...humanity's rules he is too weak in his own power to keep due to the strength of his temptation, his lust. The traffic rules he deliberately disobeys.
But for the grace of God, there go I? Nabokov presents a character that, horrifying though he is, I can relate to, sad to say. This is disturbing to me, yet true. Humbert is human - fallen, as I am. I know I am capable of the same atrocities, but for the grace of God, whether I know it or not. It is God whose grace keeps me from being as bad as I could possibly be. And it is God's Spirit which strengthens me in the face of temptation - to judge, gossip, complain, to be greedy, materialistic, idolatrous, etc. And it is the grace and mercy and forgiveness of God that restores me when I fail.
I don't think I'll take this in my book bag to the deserted island, but I can appreciate those who will.
The Adventure that Aslan will Bring
"The adventure that Aslan will bring" is the line from the Chronicles that I have repeated to myself most often in these first few weeks of 2007. It has meant a lot in the roller coaster of life, but I just CANNOT remember, nor did I write down, from which of the stories this quote comes! Oh well. Regardless, it still holds significant meaning for me!
I also cannot find my notes to The Magician's Nephew, chronologically the first of C.S. Lewis' tales, which recounts the creation of Narnia, and the "beginning of all the comings and going between Narnia and our world." (p. 221) If I find them, I'll record them, or wait until my next Narnia vacation.
I also cannot find my notes to The Magician's Nephew, chronologically the first of C.S. Lewis' tales, which recounts the creation of Narnia, and the "beginning of all the comings and going between Narnia and our world." (p. 221) If I find them, I'll record them, or wait until my next Narnia vacation.
Who said anything about safe?
The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis
The classic favorite: "Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion - the Lion, the great Lion." "Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion." "That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly." "Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy. "Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." (p. 86)
Aslan: "We have a long journey to go. You must ride on me." And he crouched down and the children climbed onto his warm, golden back, and Susan sat first, holding on tightly to his mane and Lucy sat behind holding on tightly to Susan...That ride was perhaps the most wonderful thing that happened to them in Narnia...Imagine that you are going about twice as fast as the fastest racehorse. But this is a mount that doesn't need to be guided and never grows tired. He rushes on and on, never missing his footing, never hesitating, threading his way with perfect skill between tree trunks, jumping over bush and briar and the smaller streams, wading the larger, swimming the largest of all. (p. 180-181)
The classic favorite: "Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion - the Lion, the great Lion." "Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion." "That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly." "Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy. "Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." (p. 86)
Aslan: "We have a long journey to go. You must ride on me." And he crouched down and the children climbed onto his warm, golden back, and Susan sat first, holding on tightly to his mane and Lucy sat behind holding on tightly to Susan...That ride was perhaps the most wonderful thing that happened to them in Narnia...Imagine that you are going about twice as fast as the fastest racehorse. But this is a mount that doesn't need to be guided and never grows tired. He rushes on and on, never missing his footing, never hesitating, threading his way with perfect skill between tree trunks, jumping over bush and briar and the smaller streams, wading the larger, swimming the largest of all. (p. 180-181)
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
I was the lion
The Horse and His Boy - C.S. Lewis
The Horse and His Boy turned out to be my favorite of the Chronicles this time around. One of the two most memorable lines in my reading of all the stories is when Shasta, feeling terribly sorry for himself, and walking in the dark, suddenly feels the presence of an "invisible companion" who breathes "on a very large scale." Shasta describes his sorrows to the Voice, including his encounters with what he thought were several lions. The Voice responds: "I was the lion." And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. "I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses then new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you."(p. 175)
I was reading The Horse and His Boy toward the end of my seminary class, which was on Calvin's Institutes. The following dialogue between Aravis and the Hermit tied in very well with what I was learning in Calvin regarding the sovereignty and mystery of God, and God's revelation of Himself. I used it at the beginning of my reading journal for The Institutes. "I say!" said Aravis. "I have had luck." "Daughter," said the Hermit, "I have now lived a hundred and nine winters in this world and have never yet met any such thing as Luck. There is something about all this that I do not understand: but if ever we need to know it, you may be sure that we shall." (p. 158)
The Horse and His Boy turned out to be my favorite of the Chronicles this time around. One of the two most memorable lines in my reading of all the stories is when Shasta, feeling terribly sorry for himself, and walking in the dark, suddenly feels the presence of an "invisible companion" who breathes "on a very large scale." Shasta describes his sorrows to the Voice, including his encounters with what he thought were several lions. The Voice responds: "I was the lion." And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. "I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses then new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you."(p. 175)
I was reading The Horse and His Boy toward the end of my seminary class, which was on Calvin's Institutes. The following dialogue between Aravis and the Hermit tied in very well with what I was learning in Calvin regarding the sovereignty and mystery of God, and God's revelation of Himself. I used it at the beginning of my reading journal for The Institutes. "I say!" said Aravis. "I have had luck." "Daughter," said the Hermit, "I have now lived a hundred and nine winters in this world and have never yet met any such thing as Luck. There is something about all this that I do not understand: but if ever we need to know it, you may be sure that we shall." (p. 158)
"Aslan," said Bree in a shaken voice, "I'm afraid I must be rather a fool." "Happy the Horse who knows that while he is still young. Or the Human either." (p. 215-216)
Aslan, you're bigger
Prince Caspian - C.S. Lewis
"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger." (p. 148)
"Lucy went first, biting her lip and trying not to say all the things she thought of saying to Susan. But she forgot them when she fixed her eyes on Aslan." (p. 157)
"Welcome, Prince," said Aslan. "Do you feel yourself sufficient to take up the Kingship of Narnia?"
"I - I don't think I do, Sir," said Caspian. "I'm only a kid."
"Good," said Aslan. "If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been a proof that you were not."
Caspian: "I was wishing that I came of a more honorable lineage."
"You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve," said Aslan. "And that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content."
"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger." (p. 148)
"Lucy went first, biting her lip and trying not to say all the things she thought of saying to Susan. But she forgot them when she fixed her eyes on Aslan." (p. 157)
"Welcome, Prince," said Aslan. "Do you feel yourself sufficient to take up the Kingship of Narnia?"
"I - I don't think I do, Sir," said Caspian. "I'm only a kid."
"Good," said Aslan. "If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been a proof that you were not."
Caspian: "I was wishing that I came of a more honorable lineage."
"You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve," said Aslan. "And that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content."
He knows me
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader - C.S. Lewis
Eustace to Edmund, recounting how he became "un-dragoned": "The Lion said - but I don't know if it spoke - 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off..." (p. 115-116)
Eustace: "But who is Aslan? Do you know him?"
Edmund: "Well - he knows me." (p. 117)
"It would be nice, and fairly nearly true, to say that 'from that time forth Eustace was a different boy.' To be strictly accurate, he began to be a different boy. He had relapses. There were still many days when he could be very tiresome. But most of those I shall not notice. The cure had begun." (p. 119-120)
Eustace to Edmund, recounting how he became "un-dragoned": "The Lion said - but I don't know if it spoke - 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off..." (p. 115-116)
Eustace: "But who is Aslan? Do you know him?"
Edmund: "Well - he knows me." (p. 117)
"It would be nice, and fairly nearly true, to say that 'from that time forth Eustace was a different boy.' To be strictly accurate, he began to be a different boy. He had relapses. There were still many days when he could be very tiresome. But most of those I shall not notice. The cure had begun." (p. 119-120)
Monday, January 15, 2007
There's Aslan
The Silver Chair - C.S. Lewis
"It was the worse thing she (Jill) had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst at once. Before she tased it she had been intending to make a dash away from the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be on the whole the most dangerous thing of all. She got up and stood there with her lips still wet from drinking." (p. 21-22)
Jill: "I was wondering - I mean - could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to - to Somebody - it was a name I wouldn't know - and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the door open." "You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the Lion. (p. 23)
Regarding Aslan's signs: "As you see, she had got the order wrong. That was because she had given up saying the signs over every night." (p. 103)
Puddleglum: "There are no accidents. Our guide is Aslan; and he was there when the giant King caused the letters to be cut, and he knew already all things that wouldcome of them; including this." (p. 160)
When the Witch is enchanting the underworld travelers and trying to convince them that there is no sun, they finally agree with her and then: "For the last few minutes Jill had been feeling that there was something she must remember at all costs. And now she did. But it was dreadfully hard to say it. She felt as if huge weights were laid on her lips. At last, with an effort that seemed to take all the good out of her, she said: 'There's Aslan." (p. 187)
"It was the worse thing she (Jill) had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst at once. Before she tased it she had been intending to make a dash away from the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be on the whole the most dangerous thing of all. She got up and stood there with her lips still wet from drinking." (p. 21-22)
Jill: "I was wondering - I mean - could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to - to Somebody - it was a name I wouldn't know - and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the door open." "You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the Lion. (p. 23)
Regarding Aslan's signs: "As you see, she had got the order wrong. That was because she had given up saying the signs over every night." (p. 103)
Puddleglum: "There are no accidents. Our guide is Aslan; and he was there when the giant King caused the letters to be cut, and he knew already all things that wouldcome of them; including this." (p. 160)
When the Witch is enchanting the underworld travelers and trying to convince them that there is no sun, they finally agree with her and then: "For the last few minutes Jill had been feeling that there was something she must remember at all costs. And now she did. But it was dreadfully hard to say it. She felt as if huge weights were laid on her lips. At last, with an effort that seemed to take all the good out of her, she said: 'There's Aslan." (p. 187)
Further Up, Further In
The Last Battle - C. S. Lewis
During the holidays I gave myself the gift of reading all of the Chronicles of Narnia back to back. I think I have read most of them (or had listened to them as my mother read them aloud), but that was long ago. It was a wonderful gift and I very much enjoyed understanding how they all fit together. In the next few posts, I'll record my favorite parts, during this reading, from each of the Chronicles.
This is the starting point for this blog, and from here on out, I'm going to try to record my thoughts on all that I read - from personal reading, book club selections, class assignments, stories I read with my daughter, and so on. If you're reading and you have your own favorite parts of the books I've included, please feel free to share your good words.
Today I'll starting with the Lewis' final episode of the Narnia series...The Last Battle. (Page numbers are from the 1994 Harper Trophy edition.)
"I'd rather be killed fighting for Narnia than grow old and stupid at home and perhaps go about in a bath-chair and then die in the end just the same." Jill to Eustace (p. 120)
"...it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him." (p. 204)
"And this is the marvel of marvels, that he called me Beloved, me who am but as a dog-" (p. 206)
The unicorn on the New Narnia: "I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!" (p. 213)
Lucy: "This garden is like the stable. It is far bigger inside than it was outside." "Of course, Daughter of Eve," said the Faun. "The further up and the further in you go, the bigger everything gets. The inside is larger than the outside." (p. 224)
"And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before." (p. 228)
During the holidays I gave myself the gift of reading all of the Chronicles of Narnia back to back. I think I have read most of them (or had listened to them as my mother read them aloud), but that was long ago. It was a wonderful gift and I very much enjoyed understanding how they all fit together. In the next few posts, I'll record my favorite parts, during this reading, from each of the Chronicles.
This is the starting point for this blog, and from here on out, I'm going to try to record my thoughts on all that I read - from personal reading, book club selections, class assignments, stories I read with my daughter, and so on. If you're reading and you have your own favorite parts of the books I've included, please feel free to share your good words.
Today I'll starting with the Lewis' final episode of the Narnia series...The Last Battle. (Page numbers are from the 1994 Harper Trophy edition.)
"I'd rather be killed fighting for Narnia than grow old and stupid at home and perhaps go about in a bath-chair and then die in the end just the same." Jill to Eustace (p. 120)
"...it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him." (p. 204)
"And this is the marvel of marvels, that he called me Beloved, me who am but as a dog-" (p. 206)
The unicorn on the New Narnia: "I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!" (p. 213)
Lucy: "This garden is like the stable. It is far bigger inside than it was outside." "Of course, Daughter of Eve," said the Faun. "The further up and the further in you go, the bigger everything gets. The inside is larger than the outside." (p. 224)
"And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before." (p. 228)
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