Posted on 10/28/2001 9:57:03 AM PST by sourcery
So you could join the Taliban?
Occasionally I still read TLOTR, and will see the movie. I will not however let either replace reality.
And of course I also recognize J.R.R. Tolkien's works as fantastic pieces of fiction and an amazing accomplishment by the limited mind of Man.
prisoner6
That goes for the Tolkien fanatics as well as the Star Trekkies etc.
*I* remember reading how HORRIFIED Tolkien was to learn of the hippie generation corrupting his lifelong work into escapes from reality and twisting it into something he never meant it to be. I also remember reading that he was in disagreement with Lewis of what the purpose of his stories should be. Lewis wrote tales that 'taught' Christian themes or pointed out a salient moral to the reader. Tolkien wrote for pure love of mythology, story telling and his love of land and England.
Here, I will quote from a letter he wrote and published in the beginning of the 1965 edition of LOTR:
As for any inner meaning or 'message', it has in the intention of the author none. It is neither allegorical or topical. AS the story grew it put down roots (into the past) and threw out unexpected branches; but its main theme was settled from the outset by the inevitable choice of the Ring as the link between it and The Hobbit....
Other arrangements could be devised according to the tastes or views of those who like allegory or topical reference. But I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence...I think many confuse 'applicability' with 'allegory'; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader and the other in the purposed domination of the author.
He goes on to say a good many other things about why he wrote LOTR and what he wished for the story to relate. I personally am sick of people injecting meanings into a work of pure love and talent. Tolkien knew from whence his passion came.
As for Harry Potter, the author is SO VERY WRONG to say it is occultic....I have read several pieces written by Christian theologists who write that it is anything BUT occultic. Those who are too afraid to read the books and judge for themselves obviously are too weak in spirit and faith to face anything more challenging than a peep from their own minister.
To M.Thatcher: No, I joined a Pipe Band.
To Nakatu x: Only one of many.
I love it!
To Green Knight: I have a horse, saddle, cowboy boots and hat. That doesn't make me Roy Rogers.
True, I agree...I think it is a sign of the author's 'attunement' to the more universal themes of humanity and spirituality than any particular religious theology. I often tell my husband, who is scoffs at literary 'analysis' (with good reason), that what makes a book 'great' is how universal its ideas and themes and suppositions are.
MadIvan, have you heard of Dorothy Sayers? She was one of the Inklings! She wrote a very good book that discussed how the creative impulse in writers was akin to God's Creative Power and that the 'meaning' of a book was like God creating the Universe etc. God, or Logos, formed the "IDEA"...and Christ became the Manifestation of that IDEA (ie the book) and The Holy Spirit was the Book's effect upon the reader (how we interpret it, how it affects us, how we respond to its message.)
But not once have I ever thought that an author should only write his stories to fit within the historical and symbolic concepts of the Bible. Telling a story is the love and passion that God instills upon an author as a Gift...and the Voice or Holy Spirit that comes from with-out that Gift is just an extension of His Grace and Love.
Bwaaaaaaaaaahahahahaha....
It's a similar situation for me as well. While not particualarly interested in the HP books, offhand I can't imagine how they could be occult or especially more evil than say the legends of werewolves and vampires. As you so very well point out it's the weakness of Faith and Spirit that is the ultimate culprit!
At risk of encouraging one of "THOSE" vindictive threads that pop up here every year around this time, I must say Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. And I celebrate not just in mask and costume, or paying tribute to small, disguised visitors, but in observance of my Celtic ancestors.
I chose the word "observance" with great care, and distingush quite clearly between it and "celerate". My ancestors most likely were pagan, probably Nothern Folk who painted themselves blue and scurried naked through woodlands. Or perhaps they celebrated their high days jumping through the Beltain Fires or rejoicing in the fertility of Spring.
But eventually they were led to The Word, and from that day 'til now my family belives that Gospel.
Still late at night, especially on those certain days as in Samhien - Halloween - I can hear the echos of my ancestors.
That I hear those echos and reflect on the foundations of my family has at times been quite troubling to several well-meaning, but I'm afraid misguided, Brothers and Sisters in The Church.
As an example you may be interested in this post I made to a reunion group from my old high school. It's rather long winded so you may want to skip, but if you are interested read on.
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First of all it’s October, a rare month for boys. Full of long nights, cold winds...dark promises.
The days grow short. The shadows lengthen.
And the wind mourns in such a way it makes you want to run forever.
Because up ahead, ten thousand pumpkins lie waiting to be cut!
Ok, now that I've grabbed your attention by stealing a few lines from Ray Bradbury's "Something Wicked This Way Comes" - a fantastic Disney movie that fits so well this Season of the Dark - let me ramble on with a Halloween memory from Crafton, circa mid 1950's.
Rather it was a community celebration. The weather usually held, making it perhaps the last collective outing before the serious cold and snow came.
Of course kids threatened "trick or treat", but when things slowed neighbors chatted. The women might gather on a porch while men, some just getting home from work, might group in the shadows, talking sports and politics. They’d light up Luckys while downing a few Dukes or Irons… or something harder.
As in daily life, nearly everybody hid behind a disguise of one degree or another. My Dad, who really got into the spirit, would wear an old pair of glasses with a fake nose and Groucho moustache plastered underneath as he handed over the goods.
Doesn't sound like much of a disguise? Trust me he didn't need anything else.
He had tons of tribute for the visiting parade of witches and warlocks, fairies and football players... devils and demons... and living dead.
Earlier he would have stopped by his buddy's warehouse in The Strip District and loaded up with treats. There were candy bars - the big ones - fake cigars and cigarettes and pop. But the big deal was the Grab Bag Box.
He'd pick up maybe 300 grab bags with prizes from silly little charms to pretty clever toys. More than once he opened a couple of bags and put 5-dollar bill inside. Sometimes a lucky kid might even get a watch! You never knew what you'd find.
While our house was scary enough as it was, he'd decorate. He'd hang cobwebs and place tombstones and put out whatever he thought might give a visitor pause to ponder if they really wanted to risk the trip to our door.
As I've grown older I've often reflected on why Dad liked Halloween so much. Was it the kids or the costumes or maybe the candy? He'd chow down almost as much as he gave out. Or, as I said, maybe it was the last chance to interact with the neighbors before the Evil of the year moved in.
I don't think he himself ever really knew.
Pondering it over the years, I've come to believe it was none of what I've mentioned. Instead, I think it was Instinct... a resonance with our ancestors. The influence of all those who had gone before us manifesting itself in our reality as Winter's deadly reaper harvested the last glories of the Good of the year.
It's not uncommon to find me deep in reflection after the evening begins to wane. Try it yourself. Listen... feel... your family's Echoes this Halloween.
Sometimes I'm driven to build a circle of stone and a small fire, but most often it's a symbolic rock and maybe a torch or Dietz lantern on the deck. It really doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're listening, reverberating and in harmony with all that made you.
One day after you've passed, your soul might hunger for this material world. Your Echoes might cry out to those who are now yet to be, to branches of your tree perhaps distant or now unformed, but still inescapably entwined with you from the time of the great beginning.
The Song of your Soul joins the Family Choir's Music, and together you sing as surely as the youngest leaf of a dogwood faintly whispers the songs of it's buried source when the winds stir on a shadowed evening.
Do not be deaf to that sweet music! Submit to that splendid night, and celebrate what passed and what lives and what is to be born.
Alone with the Others, listen to their Echoes and cast your own. But listen too for another Echo on the wind. High above or behind you there might be a faint call, an unfamiliar presence. Not of your blood, but calling and enticing in an unholy mimic of your own Song.
If you hear that Echo let not fear win, but calmly, slowly and surely make your way back from Dark to Light. Rejoin the living, because you may have heard the song of The One who comes when you are alone.
The Song of The One who will take you to run from him forever until, in madness, your soul surrenders and abandons your flesh to be consumed by he who haunts the lonely Dark Places.
Places both real and imagined.
In forests and halls, caves and homes, from the inner realm of your consciousness to streets crowded with strangers, wherever, whenever you are alone in mind or spirit or body, be ever vigilant to shield yourself from that strange haunting Echo.
The Echo of the Wendigo.
Next up... The Wendigo. Not for the faint of heart! REALLY!
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Clicking on the link takes you to my telling of the Wendigo Legend.
I have been critisized for both "Echos" and "The Wendigo" but the reason - outside of alarmingly bad wirting, hehehe - quite escapes me!
Boy I bet this long post kills this thread...sorry!
prisoner6
Which great fiction are you referring to; The Quran, The Torah or the Bible?
prisoner6
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