Why Logres Hall?

Below is an introduction to my work here in Logres Hall. If you wonder what it's all about, this is a good place to start.

Ronan Coghlan's fine reference work The Encyclopaedia of Arthurian Legends describes Logres as 'The name of England in Arthurian Romance.' In C.S. Lewis's masterful novel, That Hideous Strength, we are given a little more, as one of the characters reveals that the great conflict in which they are engaged (for which, read the book) actually began 'when we discovered that the Arthurian story is mostly true history. There was a moment in the Sixth Century when something that is always trying to break through into this country nearly succeeded. Logres was our name for it - it will do as well as another. And then gradually we began to see all English history in a new way. We discovered the haunting. . . . Something we may call Britain is always haunted by something we may call Logres.' Lewis took part of his concept of Logres from his friend Charles Williams's great work Taliessin Through Logres, in which Logres is sort of compared with the work of the Logos, the Son of God (John 1). For Lewis's purposes, Logres became true England, the real England, the faithful sons of England huddled together, back to back, ready for battle, while the inhabitants of 'England,' or the corruption that it has become (in the novel, at least) surrounds them on every side.

In a certain sense, then, Logres is parallel to the Old English concept of Middengeard, or Middle-earth, which Tolkien incorporated so brilliantly in The Lord of the Rings. 'Middle-earth' has been decribed by one writer, reaching back to the Old English word for 'earth' or 'yard,' as 'a cultivated portion of land surrounded by wilderness. The wilderness is modernity, full of monsters, and the yard is a small and pleasant shire. While our children are little, we want to imitate our medieval forefathers and tell our children the truths in fairy tales that will keep them out of the woods. When they are grown, they will be able to fight the monsters and expand the fences of middle earth.' (Douglas Jones, from Douglas Jones and Douglas Wilson, Angels in the Architecture: A Protestant Vision for Middle Earth).

Logres, then, is Middle-earth: the Church of Christ, surrounded by the wilderness of modern unbelief, holding a torch of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty against the darkness of Error, Evil, and Ugliness. As Jones notes, we are to be 'expand[ing] the fences of middle earth.' One day Logres, the remnant of the faithful, will fill all the world with Light, but this expansion of the kingdom of God (for that is what we have been talking about) works slowly, like the growth of a mustard seed, or like yeast working through three measures of meale (Matthew 13). So we work patiently, waiting for the Lord of the Harvest to bring about the increase. We do kingdom work: laughing and feasting, preaching and praying, telling our children stories, writing poetry, chanting Psalms, developing new technology, farming and carving and painting and changing diapers and singing and worshipping and fixing cars and writing and talking and...expanding the fences of middle-earth.

Logres Hall exists as a resource, a starting point for those who wish to expand those fences, to keep out the modern wilderness, and to protect and prepare their families for such work. In the belief that one of the best ways to do this is by creating a storytelling culture in the home, wherein the stories both of Holy Scripture and great literature shape the life and character of the home, Logres Hall is committed to focusing on this aspect, in particular, of the work of middle-earth.

Welcome to Logres Hall.

A Classic Role Revisited: A Review of the animated Ben Hur

My family recently re-watched the new, animated version of Ben Hur, and it reminded me of this previously unpublished review I wrote of the film several years ago when it first came out. My kids give the DVD five stars, which ought to go at least as far as anything I could say. For further reading and entertainment, try the new, four disc edition of the 1959, Oscar-winning version of Ben Hur, as well as Charlton Heston's autobiography, In The Arena, which is an absorbing, well-written account of the great actor's life and work. Favourite Heston quote: (speaking of Robert DeNiro): 'It's ridiculous for an actor that good to keep playing Las Vegas hoods.'

In 1959, legendary actor Charlton Heston delivered the definitive portrayal of Judah Ben-Hur, the hero of General Lew Wallace’s nineteenth century blockbuster novel, Ben Hur, A Tale of the Christ. Heston won the Best Actor Academy Award for Ben Hur, one of a record eleven Oscars (1997's Titanic finally matched the record without surpassing it, as did 2003's The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King). Recently, the American Film Institute voted Ben Hur one of the 100 best films of all time, and the movie’s stunning chariot race is widely regarded as perhaps the best action sequence ever filmed.

Now, 44 years later, Charlton Heston reprises his most famous role in the new, animated version of Ben Hur (Agamemnon Films/Good Times Entertainment), a production that brings the classic story to a new and younger audience. For those unfamiliar with the story, Ben Hur, A Tale of the Christ, follows the life of Judah Ben-Hur, a young Hebrew prince, and his childhood friend, Messala. After five years in the army, Messala returns to Jerusalem as a Roman centurion, and Judah realizes that the closeness he once shared with his old friend has withered in the heat of Messala’s radical devotion to Rome. When Judah refuses to betray his people by acting as a spy among them, Messala falsely accuses him of trying to assassinate the Roman procurator. Judah’s mother and sister are thrown in prison, and Judah himself is enslaved, consigned to the galleys of a Roman war ship. More than five years pass before Judah escapes from the ship in dramatic fashion, and begins his long journey home; a journey marked by an epic sea battle, a heart-stopping chariot race, and an enduring faith in God.

The context for the story is the birth, life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Indeed, the story begins with the search of the Magi for the Christ child, and continues thirty years later with Balthazar (one of the Magi) searching again for the child who had become a man. And in some ways, Christ is a more prominent character in this adaptation: unlike William Wyler’s 1959 version, for instance, the face of Jesus is shown throughout. Dying of thirst on his way to the galleys, Judah is helped by a kind carpenter who gives him water. Later, Judah meets that same carpenter again, hears his teaching, and determines to follow him. Though Judah triumphs over Messala in the chariot race, it is a bitter victory, immediately followed by the news that his mother and sister are alive, but have become lepers and outcasts. Judah determines to bring them to Jesus, and on learning of Christ’s arrest, tries—unsuccessfully—to raise an army to free him. As Judah stands on Golgotha and witnesses the crucifixion of Christ, he realizes that the salvation offered by the carpenter from Nazareth is not merely political liberation or military victory, but something far greater. Ben Hur movingly tells a story that undoubtedly happened time and again, in various ways, in the lives of those who met Jesus.

The animated Ben Hur is much shorter than its Oscar-winning predecessor, clocking in at less than an hour and a half. One reason for the shorter running time is the fact that the action sequences (particularly the sea battle and the chariot race), while expertly portrayed, are not given nearly as much screen time as in previous film versions. This is in keeping with Agamemnon’s stated mission of 'emphasizing story, structure and character over action or special effects.' Even the name, Agamemnon, hearkens back to the days of Greek drama, when Aristotle, in his Poetics, developed the six principles of drama: Plot, Character, Diction, Thought, Spectacle, Song. Plot, that is, the agon, or dramatic development of the story, is more important than Spectacle, or what we today would call 'action scenes.' The new Ben Hur succeeds in this emphasis, and the Spectacle, when present, is always appropriate, and never gratuitously violent. As a side note, a film company, with stated goals like those of Agamemnon, is one that Christians should want to support, not merely because they sometimes produce films sympathetic with Christianity, but because they have the right perspective on art. And art, when it is well done, always points to the glory of God, whatever the thematic content.

And this is a fairly well-crafted piece of animated art. The 2D animation is not on the level of, say, the better Disney stuff, or Dreamworks's Prince of Egypt or Joseph: King of Dreams, but the interesting work is in the skillful blending of traditional and computer-generated animation. Character shots and close-ups are produced using traditional 2D animation (though enhanced by computer technology), while wider shots, battle scenes, crowd shots, etc., are 3D, CGI work. It's an interesting blend of techniques, though the obvious differences in appearance are sometimes jarring. The producers made a point of striving for historical accuracy, especially in recreations of the film’s various settings: Jerusalem, Rome, the galleys of a first century Roman war ship; all contributing to the movie’s overall effect of a good story, well-told.

The film is capably directed by William R. Kowalchuk, who provides an interesting Director’s Commentary on the DVD version, and Charlton Heston’s son, Fraser (co-founder with his father of Agamennon), serves as Executive Producer (movie trivia: shortly after he was born, Fraser played the part of Baby Moses in the classic movie, The Ten Commandments, in which his father, of course, played the part of the older Moses). Charlton Heston also narrates Ben Hur, and the DVD contains an interview with Mr. Heston, as well as the original trailer, and a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the movie.

The new script adaptation generally manages to avoid the dumbing-down that often accompanies the rendering of literature for youngsters. Screenwriter Jerome Gray crafted his script by returning to Wallace’s own novel, creating an entertaining version of the story, with some interesting departures from previous adaptations (the resolution of the Messala story-line, for instance), and while the revenge motif is somewhat down-played, it still looms large over the story, a temptation for Judah to overcome.

One of the delights of this version, and which in itself makes it a film worth seeing, is Charlton Heston’s reprisal of his famous role. Heston is a national treasure, certainly one of the greatest American actors, with an unequaled richness of voice that is a joy to hear. As many know, Mr Heston contracted Alzheimer’s disease a few years ago, and each new work by this legendary artist only increases in value. 'This wonderful story has been told many times in the last hundred years, once as a highly successful stage play and three times as a feature,' said Heston. 'Ben Hur is a classic tale of love, forgiveness and redemption, known throughout the world. I’m delighted to be able to bring it to family audiences in this marvelous new format.' And families everywhere will be delighted to see it, Mr Heston.

George Grant on Reading to Children

The post below was written by George Grant, who, although I don't know personally, I have met once; we are co-authors, after a fashion, having both contributed to the forthcoming Omnibus III, published by Veritas Press. George is a fantastic speaker and writer, and his writings are wide-ranging and prolific. I highly recommend his work to you, particularly his historical lectures, many of which can be found for free or minimal cost at Sermon Audio or Word MP3. The post below is a wonderful bit of thoughtfulness on the subject of reading to children. Anyone who has read my book, Talking of Dragons, knows this is a subject near and dear to my heart, and I would suggest reading George's good ideas on the subject.

Reading Aloud

"'Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon."
Edward Lear (1812-1888)

Silent reading is a fairly modern innovation. As late as the eighteenth century, it was thought that the best way to truly appreciate the classics was to read them aloud--all the better to relish the beauty of the words, the music of the composition, and the architecture of the ideas. Of course, the classics are not limited to great philosophical tomes by the likes of Aristotle, Augustine, and Aquinas. In fact, some of the greatest classic works ever written are books for children--books that are at their very best when read aloud.

The best thing about reading aloud to children aside from developmental progress and all that good stuff, is onomatopoeia. “Clang, clang!” “Harrumph!” “Chugga-chugga” “Choo-Choo” “Splat” “Ring! Ring!” “Flutter, Flutter.” Wonderful children’s literature doesn’t just progress along the pages in staid font transferring information, it sings out from the very book at us! Be it Mike Mulligan’s steam shovel digging away furiously or Peter Rabbit hopping lippity, lippity through Mr. MacGregor’s dangerous garden patch, we are fully engaged from once-upon-a-time to everyone-lived-happily-ever-after. Ducks wear poke bonnets, trains wish desperately to make children happy, dreams come true, elephants and carpets fly, and small children affect the outcome of their worlds. Adults who wear business attire and behave perfectly appropriately in steel and glass towers day after monotonous day transform themselves into snakes, mean old hags, princesses with snooty accents, and sorrowful baby bears when a small child is snuggled on their lap with a good book. Is it any wonder that a happy child’s evening litany includes “Read one more book, please?”

Children’s classics are those books that can be read over and over and over again, with great anticipation and satisfaction. Character traits that would serve well both presidents and street sweepers are inculcated between the few pages, and good, while often tattered, does overcome evil in the end. Lost battles are still worth the fight. As in real life, the honor and import of the struggle count more than winning.

Do you miss it? Then rush out to a school in your own neighborhood and ask for the privilege to read to some children once a week. Better yet, ask for the greater privilege of teaching someone to read as a volunteer tutor in a local school. The rewards of macaroni necklaces, somewhat sticky hugs, long, extremely detailed stories of the day’s adventures, and glittery homemade cards are surprisingly as touching as gifts from your own loved ones, as well as the quiet inner assurance that you are making a difference in the world forever after.

Rather than purchasing huge quantities of books for your children, purchase quality copies of some great ones, and read these over and over again.

Reading quietly to a small child in the tub just after the dinner hour has a calming effect on the entire household.

Do you have one of those busy little people in your family who finds it very difficult to sit still? They really can concentrate better on the story you’re reading if they have a crayon and paper in front of them or a small car to hold in their hands as you read

.Keep wonderful books such as The Chronicles of Narnia or the G.A. Henty adventures or the Jan Karon Mitford novels in the car and read aloud to the entire family if you have a regular long commute together, or will be together on vacation.

Make sure each child has a bookshelf of their own or a space of their own on the family bookshelf. Books should never be kept in toyboxes where they will be destroyed. Treat them as if they are very valuable.

Your children must see you reading if they are to take reading seriously themselves.

Perhaps you missed out on many wonderful children’s classics as a child. Buy them, read them, then donate the books to area school libraries or create a small library at a shelter for kids in transitional housing. Any schoolteacher can provide you with the name of a young student who needs and would appreciate a book for Christmas.

If you have more than one child in your family, their reading skills will vary. Some children simply don’t read well; it is work for them, and not unadulterated joy. For these children especially, reading aloud to them for as many years as they will listen is especially important for their cultural understanding and development. Things as simple as the inflection in your voice when you read about an inappropriate action by a character will imprint upon your child’s moral character if read to often.

Some children simply aren’t as affectionate as others. They often get left out when it comes to reading time merely because it isn’t as sensuously enjoyable for everyone as with a snuggling sweetheart engaged in the story. These children need your patience and time even more than others, who will probably find ways to get their needs met in life through normal daily interaction. Do whatever it takes to keep their attention: feed them cookies, let them blow bubbles, and concentrate on rhyming, fast-moving stories and beautiful illustrations. You may be the only person in their entire life who will take the time to interest them in books. A lot of extra stimulation is not advised however for a child easily read to. Imagination develops in wonderful ways when pure listening skills are employed.

"There is a great deal of difference between the eager man who wants to read a book and the tired man who wants a book to read. A man reading a Le Quex mystery wants to get to the end of it. A man reading the Dickens novel wished that it might never end." George MacDonald (1824-1905)

"Mediocre minds usually dismiss anything which reaches beyond their own understanding." Duc de la Rochefoucauld (1613-1680)

"You can find all the new ideas in the old books; only there you will find them balanced, kept in their place, and sometimes contradicted and overcome by other and better ideas. The great writers did not neglect a fad because they had not thought of it, but because they had thought of it and of all the answers to it as well." G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

"The oldest books are still only just out to those who have not yet read them." Samuel Butler (1835-1902)

Images

This is a test post to see if I am correctly posting images to the site.

Treasure Hunt

One of the most excellent ways to create a storytelling culture in the home is to act out stories together. Though I have explored this idea somewhat in my book on Tolkien and Lewis (Talking of Dragons), I’m no more an expert on this than anyone else, so it’s just a matter of trial and error with our family. We have several ways we have tried this with our own small children (ages 5 and 2). One of our household favourites is called ‘Treasure Hunt.’ This is a wonderful way to teach very young children about such virtues as courage, watchfulness, and loyalty.

It’s actually very simple, and can be played indoors or out. You can elaborate over time, especially as the children get a little older. The simpler, indoor version (great for rainy or snowy days) goes like this:

1. Draw a simple treasure map, based on the topography of your living room/hallway/bedroom/playroom, or similar. Name the various bits of furniture: our large recliner is The Green Mountain. We have a small, flower-shaped rug that has been dubbed The Western Gardens. Couches can be called The Red Mountains, or the Rocky Hills. Names can be as simple or as elaborate as you like: Tolkien, for all his Elvish unpronounceables, gave most of the place names in The Hobbit simple, descriptive names: The Misty Mountains, The Long Lake, The River Running, The Lonely Mountain. Name each locale on your map, and, Indiana Jones notwithstanding, X always marks the spot.

2. Get the ‘treasure’. If you can find a small toy treasure chest, great, but any box will do. Fill it with some kind of treat or goodies: we have used candy, raisins, nuts, etc. Bury it: under some pillows, under a couch, in a closet, under some blankets, or wherever your imagination carries you.

3. Plan for various adventures along the way. Hide five or six stuffed ‘mountain lions’ (or wolves, or dragons, or anything appropriate) that you can quickly grab along some mountain pass for a surprise attack. If you have a small, decorative suit of armour, this makes an excellent ‘evil knight’ for your young son to cross swords with. A white blanket can be used to simulate a snowstorm. Come up with ideas as a family.

4. Next, you’ll need one or two small children (or four, or six, as the case may be): outfit them with a variety of ‘travelling gear’: toy swords are a must for the boys; or toy riding horses (the ones with a horse head on a stick are perfect) for either girls or boys. Take along a few cups and plates for campfire meals. Roll up the gear in a blanket (except for swords, which should be placed in belts, ready for action).

5. Set out, but always begin and end each adventure with prayer. Have the children ride through the halls on their toy horses, or even march in place, for a minute or two. Point out the ‘sights’ of the countryside: hills and rivers, lakes and waterfalls, mountains and oceans. Help the children to begin to use their imaginations to see the wonders of the world, right in their own living room.

6. At the appropriate time, have the lions, or dragons, or evil knight, attack the little party. The boys should be taught to protect their sisters, and the sisters must not engage directly in the battle (they may be taught to pour arrows into the ranks of the enemies from a safe distance). Make sure anyone who fights with swords cleans their blade afterwards, as Aslan taught us. Another idea is to have a ‘Gate Guardian’: an old man, or a mysterious knight (the suit of armour, or another toy figure), who will not let the company pass until they have solved a riddle. Make up a simple riddle beforehand: the answer could be ‘grass’ or ‘stars’ or ‘trees’. Example: ‘I am the little light that shines at night; though I am far away, I bring light to the whole world’. Something simple that even young children will be able to figure out. Increase the complexity of the riddles as they get more adept at solving them. In general, try to have something important for each child to do on each Treasure Hunt: if little brother’s calling is to slay the dragon, big sister can solve the riddle.

7. Let the adventure last several ‘days’. After marching for a while, set up camp: have a pretend meal (don’t forget to feed the horses), and then go to bed. Everyone should sleep for a short time (thirty seconds to a minute, depending on the ages and attention spans of the children). Sometimes, you may want to have a surprise night attack: otherwise, sound the ‘Morning Horn’ (if you have a toy horn, use that, or just make a shofar-like sound). That is the signal for the day to begin. Have a march of several days, and plan a few adventures along the way.

8. When you reach the X, have everyone dig (toy shovels are great for this purpose). Let the digging last for a while (patience is one of the virtues). When the treasure is found, there should be appropriate rejoicing and thanksgiving: prayer, dancing, laughing, singing. Then, distribute the goods (the candy, raisins, or whatever).

9. You can also work a storyline into your Treasure Hunt: part of the mission could be rescuing a noble knight or princess from the dungeon of a wicked sorcerer. Use whatever toys you have around to set the scene.

10. Use every opportunity to teach Christian virtue and honour. Teach the children to look out for one another, to help out when someone is in trouble (a large floor rug has become our Red Marshes, and whenever someone falls in, the others have to help him out). Teach them to love the beauty of the ‘sights’ all around on the journey. Let the imagination see and hear birds, and splash in cold streams. This game can also be played, on a larger scale, in the yard, but even if you are starting small indoors, show your children what it is like to delight in God’s creation, and to sacrifice for one another in life’s great Treasure Hunt.

Dire Warnings

The next installment in this series of my older writings is a short story written about three years ago. Comments are welcome...

Dire Warnings

“The problem with this energetic exercise in imagination,” said Professor Durus, with a kindly smile, “is simply a lack of evidence.”

He was walking to the parking lot with his colleague, Professor Roth. They regularly engaged in various informal disputations, usually at the behest of Roth, a perpetual axe-grinder. Durus enjoyed their informal debates, wearisome though they often were—especially as Roth never managed five sentences without lapsing into insult and invective. But Durus was considerate and patient. Roth was ardently religious, a passionate believer in the supernatural, and Durus held a private opinion that this faith too often made a Zealot of him. Not surprising, Durus had sometimes thought. Hot ideology makes hot heads.

Durus himself was quite the opposite, renowned for a tolerant spirit, for facing life’s challenges with a cool-headed serenity that invoked the admiration of all who met him. Casual acquaintances thought him honest, pleasant, and charitable, and friends knew him to be so. His goodwill even extended to the few that, like Roth, actually disliked him.

“Come off it,” said Roth with an acrid tone. “Don’t make me drag out the theistic proofs. You don’t believe in the supernatural because you don’t want to believe.”

Durus considered that. One can never completely know one’s own mind, after all, but he sincerely did not think Roth’s assertion true. “I want only evidence,” he said. “I know the traditional arguments for God’s existence, and I find them unconvincing. Perhaps it’s true that I use my agnosticism as a shield against error, as a handrail to keep me from falling off either side of the bridge. Still, it seems to me that Reality, as we know it, can be accounted for apart from the existence of a superior being that made it all. A beautiful thought if true, but…

“However,” he added, “my objections are both philosophical and practical.”

Roth snorted in disgust. “What does that mean?”

“The supernatural is wonderful for mythology, but decidedly bad for real life. I object to your brand of religion—miracles, angels, and all the rest—because of the type of person it produces: either Crusaders, valiantly fighting to force belief on others—“ here he resisted the temptation to provide a convenient illustration—“ or Slaves, who sink from belief into delusion.”

“Delusion?” said Roth. “Don’t be a fool. Delusion is the legacy of atheism. Give me one example of real faith producing delusion. Not cultic sectarianism, mind you, but a major religion.”

They had reached Durus’ car. He turned to Roth and smiled again. “I’ll give you one, and then I really must go. You’re an historian, Roth: surely you are familiar with The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle?

Roth rolled his eyes. “Of course. What’s your point?”

“Well, the Chronicle is a fairly straight-forward historical account of early Medieval English history. Yet what do you find in the record for the year 793?

Roth didn’t remember, but also didn’t let on. “What about it?”

Durus quoted the passage. “’Dire warnings were come over the land of the Northumbrians and sadly terrified the people. There were tremendous lightnings and fiery dragons were seen flying in the air.’”

He looked at his colleague as if trying to determine his thoughts. “Dragons, Roth. In an otherwise sane, historical report. Matter-of-fact, as if recording the outcome of a battle. Why? It was a culture that believed in angels and devils, so why not dragons? Why not giants or fairies? And that’s my point: a strong belief in the mythological side of religion obscures reason, causing delusion in otherwise rational, sentient people.”

Roth snorted again, but said nothing. Durus clapped him on the shoulder, good-naturedly. “Don’t get me wrong, Roth. Religion has high value. It teaches us to be honest, to help the needy, to endure suffering with patience. That’s enough religion for me.”

“Oh, yeah?” retorted Roth. “Well, I wouldn’t recommend trying out your secular religion when you’re standing next to your kid’s coffin.”

That was a bit much, even for Durus. But he refused to let it draw him out. He sighed, sadly, and said goodbye to his intolerant acquaintance. As he drove home, Durus reflected on the conversation. Like Roth, he’d grown up in what he now called “fairy tale religion”—angels, devils, witches, giants—and had grown up a selfish cad. Only when he abandoned the mythical elements of faith, accepting religion’s moral teachings, had he gradually transformed into a man of compassion and tolerance.

But he recalled his closing words to Roth: “religion teaches us to endure suffering with patience.” That’s the hard part, he thought. Durus, in fact, had suffered little in life. Born to wealth, with a near genius I.Q., he had married the most beautiful girl at Oxford, and now enjoyed money, status, and two great kids. What would he do if suffering came, as it surely would? Endurance is the key. I can’t help what happens, but I can control my own response to tragedy, and not let it overwhelm me.

He turned his car into his own neighborhood, onto his own street. Instantly, he was offered a chance to prove the ethical and psychological superiority of his religion, for his house—his own home—was on fire. A wall of flame illumined the late afternoon sky with blazing light. He skidded to a stop in the driveway, breathing words of thankfulness, to no one in particular, that his family was away for the day.

He jumped from the car, fumbling for his cell phone, for no one had yet arrived on the scene. Panic and fear swelled and threatened to crush him, and he dropped his phone. But he took a deep breath, and began to calm himself, even briefly thinking how good it was that he would now have an opportunity to exercise his religion in real life. He would endure, and hold down the storm of emotions that were rising in him. Durus’ head was spinning, despite his valiant efforts to remain calm, and his senses were cloudy. But help would come. In fact…

A shadow passed overhead. A rain cloud, he thought. A downpour would certainly help. A roar of wind, and a frightfully loud noise, like thunder, boomed above him. Yes, it’s going to rain. He felt the ground move behind him, and heard a high-pitched, piercing noise, like a siren. The firefighters are here. They’ll save my house. He turned, and squinted in the glow of two bright, yellow lights. Vehicle headlights. The fire engine.

A blinding flurry of ghastly images assaulted his eyes—a gaping mouth; a face marked by malice, intelligence, and twisted pleasure; a burning, malevolent smile; huge, scaly wings; razor-sharp fangs. His final thought, as the fiery breath hurled him into the surprisingly real world of Supernature, was of Roth, his fanatical colleague.

The Three Allegorical Pigs

Here's an unpublished skit I wrote a few years ago, the first posting of some of my older work. Comments and criticisms are welcome. Historical note: I used to head up a drama program at my church, years ago, and, along with my wife, wrote and directed some plays and sketches from time to time (not during the worship service, or anything nutty like that, though). This one was never performed. I actually haven't re-read it yet, so I renounce, in advance, anything silly that I used to believe back then. Looking forward to your thoughts...

The Three Allegorical Pigs
(In which three symbolic swine learn an important lesson)
Theme: Building on the Right Foundation

CHARACTERS:
NARRATOR: male with good speaking voice
CRUISER: a good-timin' pig who is confident that the future is bright
WORKER: an industrious pig who is certain that nothing in life is free
TRUSTER: an honest pig who is convinced that his need exceeds his ability
FENRIS OAF: the Big Bad Wolf

SET: Just a chair for the NARRATOR, plus the three “house props” (See Production Note below).

PRODUCTION NOTE: Each PIG needs a “house” to live in, and one suggestion would be to create a small, hand-held “house prop” out of cardboard or even wood. Each prop would have a wooden handle at the bottom for the PIG to carry (yeah, it sounds cheap, but it fits with the wacky, symbolic mood of the skit, as well as the NARRATOR’S complaint about budget cuts). The main body of the prop would be in the shape of a house, and the straw and stick versions should have some loose straw and sticks that can be tossed in the air for effect when the WOLF blows them down. There should also be straw or stick glued or otherwise attached to the prop so that the audience will realize what it’s supposed to be. The brick prop can just have red bricks painted on, and, as it does not get blown down, does not need loose parts.

(AT RISE: The NARRATOR enters, stands stage right, and speaks to the audience.)

NARRATOR: Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Their names were Cruiser...

(CRUISER takes the stage and waves to the audience.)

CRUISER: Yo, how y’all doin’?

NARRATOR: Worker...

(WORKER takes the stage and waves to the audience.)

WORKER: Hello.

NARRATOR: And Truster.

(TRUSTER takes the stage and waves to the audience.)

WORKER: Good day.

NARRATOR: And I'm the Narrator. Unlike the traditional story about three pigs, this tale is an allegory.

CRUISER: I thought allegories only lived in the swamps. (He laughs and snorts at his own joke, though no one else does.)

NARRATOR: (Trying to ignore the bad joke.) An allegory, I say, in which grand and glorious lessons are taught in a meaningful fashion. How do we do this, you ask? In an allegory, all the characters represent certain types of people, even certain attitudes and beliefs. That's why, instead of giving our pigs normal names like, say, Abner, Beaurialis, and Rothchild, we give them exceedingly weird names like Cruiser, Worker, and Truster. Those names are symbolic of people who think in certain ways. What, precisely, are they symbolic of? (A knowing smile, a little chuckle.) Well, you'll have to determine that yourselves. (Beat, as he turns serious. The following lines are spoken with increasing passion and volume.) We can't be giving you too much help, now can we? How will you ever learn if we just give you the answers? You've got to think for yourselves! I'm not standing up here for your entertainment. I mean, come on people, throw me a bone every now and then, huh? Day after day, work, work, work: for what? Heartache!

(TRUSTER loudly clears his throat.)

NARRATOR: Oh, uh, sorry.

(The PIGS shake their heads with grave disappointment.)

NARRATOR: Hey, fellas, I'm working on it; really, I am. (He clears his throat and prepares for a new start.) Once upon a time -

WORKER: (Interrupting.) You did that already.

NARRATOR: Oh, right. Uh...oh, yes: When the three little pigs came of age, their parents sent them out into the wide, wild world to seek their callings. On the day they left home, Cruiser, Worker and Truster had a talk.

(The NARRATOR sits down.)

CRUISER: Well, boys, this is it: the first day of the rest of our lives.

WORKER: What do you mean, Cruiser?

CRUISER: Come on, man, think about it! We are about to start living for the first time. Everything up to now has been dress rehearsal. No, worse: it's been like one bad audition after another. But now, baby, we're on the big screen at last!

(He throws his arms wide as if to embrace the world in all its potential fun.)

TRUSTER: I don't know. I was pretty happy at home. In fact, I'm a little sad to be leaving.

CRUISER: You've got to be kidding! I've been waiting for this day all my life!

TRUSTER: I've been dreading this day all my life. Who will lead us in this dark world?

WORKER: Lead us? Shoot, I don't need no leader. Life is tough, but "to the diligent go the spoils", or something like that. Work hard, just like Ma and Pa taught us, and you can have anything you want. "What the mind can conceive, we can achieve," after all. And all is what I'm after. Yes sir, Truster, I want it all: the girl, the gold watch, and the whole -

CRUISER: Yeah, yeah, yeah. We're all impressed with your subscription to Cliche Weekly.

WORKER: Oh, right, this from the guy who just offered the profound insight that (Impersonating CRUISER.) "Today is the first day of the rest of our lives." Whatever. All I’m saying is that I ain't askin' nobody for nothin', if I can't get it on my own. So if you don't like the way I'm livin', you just leave this long-haired country pig alone!

TRUSTER: That's all well and good, Worker. But there's a lot of questions that your "work hard, earn it all" philosophy doesn't answer.

WORKER: Yeah? Like what?

TRUSTER: Well...what about housing?

WORKER: What about housing?

TRUSTER: You know that the most important thing we can do, now that we're on our own, is to start building homes to live in.

WORKER: Yeah, so?

TRUSTER: What will we build with? We need a strong foundation, a solid structure, to protect our families -

CRUISER: (Interrupting.) We don't have families.

TRUSTER: But we will have families, some day. And we need to take thought for them.

WORKER: Sure we do, but why are you worrying? We can find something to build our houses with that'll work just fine.

TRUSTER: Yeah, but have you forgotten...(Looks around nervously.) The Big Bad Wolf?

CRUISER: The Big Bad Wolf? Ha! Truster, please don't tell me you still believe in the Big Bad Wolf? I figured out about him when I was four; the same day I figured out about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

WORKER: Well, Truster's just saying that...wait a minute: what about Santa Claus?

TRUSTER: Of course I believe in the Big Bad Wolf. He has the ability to blow whole buildings down. And...(Looking around nervously again) he has an appetite for pork!

WORKER: I thought it was dragons that blowed buildings down.

TRUSTER: Dragons breathe fire.

CRUISER: Dragons don't breathe anything. They're not real. Look, Truster, you're gonna have to let go of these childhood myths sooner or later. I believe it's good to have a healthy spirituality, and all that - that is to say, I don't mind a little meditation here, a bit of yoga there. But there is no Big Bad Wolf. In fact, such a belief may well be the ultimate heresy! The world is a great place to live in, and life - if you know how to live it - is easy and fun!

TRUSTER: I wish I shared your optimism, brother. But I fear that you're wrong; horribly wrong. I've been worrying about this for years; ever since the first time I thought about building a house of my own. (He puts his head in his hands.) What shall I do?

(The NARRATOR stands up.)

NARRATOR: Now, maybe you're thinking to yourself: "Three little pigs, all with such different opinions. Didn't their parents teach them how to build their houses when they left home?" Well, it turns out that their parents - whose names were Apostate and Postmodern, by the way - were quite the free-thinkers. They didn't believe in imposing their architectural views on their children. They thought that kids should decide those kinds of things for themselves.

(The NARRATOR smiles, and just stands there looking silly for a few seconds. Finally, WORKER speaks up.)

WORKER: You done?

NARRATOR: Oh, um, of course. Carry on. (He sits down.)

CRUISER: Now look, Truster, I'm gonna level with you: maybe there’s not an actual Big Bad Wolf, but I do know that we have to overcome the "Big Bad Wolf" in all of us. See, the (He makes quotation gestures with his hands) "Big Bad Wolf" is just the projection of all of pig-kind's negative energy; an attempt on the part of Organized Architecture to suppress the spark of divinity we all possess, and keep us from having any fun. To deal with this negativity, we need to be real with our feelings; get in touch with our inner-swine and be open and vulnerable with each other, and with our selves.

WORKER: (Sarcastic) Thank you, Oprah.

(CRUISER rolls his eyes.)

TRUSTER: I suppose you don't believe in the Master Builder, either?

CRUISER: Some ancient prince doling out advice to home-builders? Maybe you should lie down, Truster.

TRUSTER: He's real! He made all of the great, old buildings in the land. And He doesn't like people building with just any old materials.

CRUISER: Come on! (Sarcastic) The "Master Builder", son of the Emperor (who, by the way, lives so far off that no one has ever seen him) wants to make sure you build your home strong and sure. Please! Even if this Master Builder exists, why on earth would he care what I use to build my house with?

TRUSTER: Because He cares about you, and He wants to protect you from the Big Bad Wolf.

CRUISER: Back to that again, are we?

WORKER: Hold on, now, Cruiser.

CRUISER: What? Don't tell me you believe in these fairy-tales too?

WORKER: No, I didn't say that.

TRUSTER: You mean you don't believe in them, Worker?

WORKER: I didn't say that, either. I'm just not sure, that's all. I'm an...what do you call it? Hagnospick...Acrostic...

TRUSTER: Agnostic.

CRUISER: (Offers a handkerchief.) Bless you.

WORKER: I just don't think we can know for sure, you know? And I don't think we should waste our lives waiting on Emperors that don't rule, and Builders that don't build. We've got to make our own way in this world. There's a lot to be done, and the rewards are great for those that are willing to keep the snout to the old grindstone. And if the Emperor and the Master Builder do exist...well, I'm sure that they'll look at the buildings we've constructed, and sort of, you know, weigh our good buildings against our bad ones, and hopefully, if we've done our job and all, we'll have more good ones than bad, and hey, we'll be all right, you know?

TRUSTER: I don't know, Worker. Have you ever read the Master Builder's Blueprints?

CRUISER: Blueprints?

TRUSTER: Yeah, it's a written record of how to go about building your home. Written by the Emperor and the Master Builder.

CRUISER: And the madness continues. Truster, come on, man, think about it: those Blueprints were written by Organized Architecture to try to run people's lives. I'll bet that's where you learned about the Big Bad Wolf, too.

TRUSTER: Well, now that you mention it -

CRUISER: (Interrupting.) I knew it! You see? It's all part of the same big scam.

WORKER: Well, even if it's not a scam, it's still not the best way to make your plans, Truster. I've seen the Blueprints, and let me tell you: you'd need an architecture degree just to understand them. All those big, architectural words. Besides, it's a very old document, and it was originally written in an ancient language that no one speaks anymore.

CRUISER: Pig Latin?

WORKER: How should I know? The point is, it's been translated so many times, it can't possibly be accurate anymore.

TRUSTER: Well, I admit some of it is open to interpretation, but no one said that life would be easy.

WORKER: Actually, Cruiser did.

CRUISER: (With a big smile.) Oh, yeah.

WORKER: Anyway, Truster, what did the Blueprints say?

TRUSTER: I don't remember most of it, but I do know that it gave detailed instructions for building houses, including what materials to use.

CRUISER: Well, you fanatics can sit around talking about invisible builders all night if you want, but I'm moving on.

WORKER: Yeah, those houses aren't going to build themselves.

(The NARRATOR stands up.)

NARRATOR: So the three pigs went out to find land and building materials. It won't surprise you to learn that they all took different approaches to their tasks. Cruiser, for example, in keeping with his "the world owes me a living" mentality, decided to purchase building materials that were both cheap and easy to work with; he built his house out of straw.

CRUISER: Straw was perfect. I was in and watching TV in two days. Straw really expresses who I am at this time in my life. It was just something I needed to do, for me.

TRUSTER: It won't be nearly strong enough to withstand a blast from the Big Bad Wolf.

CRUISER: Yeah, right.

NARRATOR: Worker, being a much harder, er, worker, decided to use the best materials he could find, given his budgetary limitations. In the land where the pigs lived, that meant wood. (He sits.)

WORKER: Sticks of wood, mostly. But good, sturdy stuff. I would've used bricks, but that would mean going up to the capital, and buying from the Master Builder. Yeah, it turns out He's for real, after all.

CRUISER: So you say.

WORKER: And so would you, if you'd been there. But the problem is, the only way you can get bricks is if you turn over the whole planning of your house to Him.

TRUSTER: Why is that a problem?

WORKER: Because I ain't turning the reins over to anybody, that's why. I work hard for what I have, and the least reward I expect is to be able to make the decisions myself. I don't ask nobody for help, and I don't blame nobody when the apple cart gets upset. It's all on me. No offense to the Master Builder; He's made some fine buildings in the past, but nobody knows what my house should be better than I do. So I made the best, strongest house I could make, out of the best wood I could find.

TRUSTER: Not strong enough, I fear.

CRUISER: So what did you build with, Mr. Critical?

TRUSTER: Bricks and stone, of course.

WORKER: So you gave up control of your own home -

CRUISER: Just because you’re afraid of some mythological creature?

TRUSTER: Just for the record, I dispute your choice of adjective. But yes: that was part of it, in the beginning. But as I got to know the Master Builder, I began to see the great wisdom that He has. In the end, I realized that it would be foolish to have anyone else build my home.

CRUISER: Well, I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree. When the years have rolled by, and no wolf ever comes, and I'm napping comfortably in my low-maintenance home, then maybe you'll get the point and give up on your superstitious ideas.

(The PIGS exit. The NARRATOR stands.)

NARRATOR: And the years did roll by. The pigs got older; they married and had children. And their homes served them well. (Beat.) At least for a while. For a day came when all the land was troubled by rumors of an evil presence. A dark shape was seen in the woods. Yes, that's right: he had come at last. Fenris Oaf, otherwise known as...The Big Bad Wolf!

(The WOLF enters and growls menacingly.)

NARRATOR: The Wolf had been playing the provinces in recent years, and the pickin's were mighty slim; mighty slim. In particular, he had met very few pigs in his travels, and he was mighty hungry; mighty hungry.

WOLF: Man, where do you people get this dialogue?

NARRATOR: Uh, as I was saying, the Wolf had a distinct and overpowering craving for little pig. So, he roamed the countryside, and at length, he came to a small, rather hasty-looking house made of straw.

(CRUISER enters, holding his "house prop" [see production notes at beginning of script]. He is whistling, obviously living out his "life is great" philosophy. The WOLF licks his lips, rubs his hands diabolically, and creeps up to the house.)

NARRATOR: The Wolf, having imagined this moment for years, had written a great opening line.

WOLF: Little pig, little pig, let me in!

(The NARRATOR effects a puzzled, disappointed look.)

NARRATOR: What, that's it? That's your great opening line?

WOLF: Hey, you're a narrator, not a dramatic critic. Pipe down, or you're next!

NAARATOR: All right, all right. (Muttering.) Boy, you give some people fangs and a scary-sounding name and they go Nero on you.

WOLF: Heard that.

NAARATOR: Sorry. Look, you'd better say that line again; I don't think he heard you.

WOLF: (Louder.) Little pig, little pig, let me in!

CRUISER: Hey, quiet down, out there! Touched By An Angel is on!

WOLF: (ALMOST ROARING.) LITTLE PIG, LITTLE PIG, LET ME IN!!!

CRUISER: All, right, you don't have to yell. Who's there? (He sees the WOLF.) What the - (His voice starts quivering.) Hey, you're not the...are you the...you can't be the...the Big Bad Wolf?

WOLF: You were expecting maybe Publisher's Clearing House?

(CRUISER squeals in fright.)

WOLF: Let me in!!!

CRUISER: No way, dude. Not by the hair of my carefully groomed goatee! Go away!

WOLF: (Dramatically. Too much so.) Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!

NARRATOR: (Rolling his eyes.) Oh, brother.

WOLF: (To the NARRATOR.) Quiet, you. (To CRUISER.) Last chance, swine: do you let me in, or do you lose your house?

CRUISER: Go away!

WOLF: You asked for it! (He huffs and puffs, etc.)

NARRATOR: So the Wolf huffed, and he puffed...(Sort of ad-libbing as the wolf struggles to work up a good breath) and then he huffed again, and after that...oh yeah, he puffed.

(The WOLF breaks out in a violent coughing fit.)

NARRATOR: (Grinning broadly, speaking rapidly.) But the Wolf was a four-pack-a-day chain-smoker, and couldn't extinguish a candle, much less blow down a whole house. So, hey, don't smoke, kids!

(He winks and gives them an "ok" hand gesture. WORKER pops his head out.)

WORKER: (Shaking his head in disbelief.) How do you like that? Every skit has to have a message. Sheesh!

WOLF: (To WORKER, who quickly ducks backstage, though not without a defiant shake of the fist.) You're next! (To the NARRATOR.) And I'm coming after you, editorial-boy. Just give me a second here...(he begins huffing and puffing again. Then, with a mighty blow, the straw house comes down.)

WOLF: Ha Ha!

CRUISER: Yipes! (He runs out, with the WOLF in hot pursuit.)

NARRATOR: But Cruiser escaped to his brother Worker's house, racing inside and locking the door only moments ahead of the Wolf.

(WORKER and CRUISER enter, carrying WORKER'S "house prop." The WOLF follows close behind.)

WOLF: Hey, I like this: Two little pigs. And nothing but a bunch of twigs in the way. All right, boys: you know the drill. Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!

WORKER: (Defiant.) Not a chance, furball.

CRUISER: (Trying to be defiant, though it comes out a bit squeaky.) Not by the hairs of our chinney-chin-chins!

WOLF: No? Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll -

(He collapses into coughing again. The NARRATOR shakes his head, but says nothing. With another effort, he hurls a blast of wolf-breath at the house, but though it shakes and wavers, it holds up.)

WORKER: Ha! Good timber, that. See, Cruiser, hard work always pays off.

CRUISER: Yikes! Here he comes again!

(With another mighty blow, the WOLF succeeds in bringing the house down. The PIGS run off - WORKER shaking his fist at his enemy - and the WOLF again pursues.)

NARRATOR: Now two of the brothers were bereft of kith and kin. (Beat.) Or kith, at least. They still had their kin. (Beat.) No, kith is a synonym for kin, and I just said they still had their kin. Ergo, and assuming the veracity of my first premise, they still had both kith and kin. (Beat. He's a bit confused.) So what were they bereft of, I wonder? (Another beat, only longer.) Oh, yeah, now I remember: hearth and home. That's it. The two pigs were bereft of hearth and home. And, with the Wolf in hot pursuit, our bereaved brothers high-tailed it to - yes, you guessed it - good ol' Truster's house. (Beat.) You know, the brick one.

(CRUISER, WORKER, and TRUSTER enter, with TRUSTER'S house prop. The WOLF enters moments later.)

WOLF: This day just gets better and better: Three pigs now. Brick this time, but hey, it's not for nothing that they call me...THE BIG BAD WOLF! (An evil laugh. Then, to the PIGS.) One more for the road, boys: (At the top of his lungs.) LITTLE PIGS, LITTLE PIGS, LET ME IN!

WORKER: Not by the hairs of...ah, forget it. Go away, you disgusting, ugly, dog-faced excuse for a wolf.

WOLF: (In mock terror.) Taunts and Insults! My evil powers are useless against them! (Parody of The Wizard of Oz.) I'm melting! Melting! Oh, what a world! (Then, with renewed anger.) Forget it, bacon-boys: I'm coming over for dinner! Honey! I'm home!

CRUISER: (Frightened. He's just seen the WOLF blow down two houses, and lacks confidence in TRUSTER'S bricks.) W-w-wouldn't you rather have beef? There's a big dairy farm just down the road, you know.

WOLF: (Sarcastic.) Yeah, I'm taking menu advice from a bunch of rejects from the Muppet Show. No thanks.

CRUISER: (Desperate. Almost squealing.) No meat on Fridays!

WOLF: What do I look like, a Jesuit? Besides, it's Thursday.

TRUSTER: Look here, we're not just gonna open the door and let you eat us. It's just not reasonable for you to expect that. Besides, I'm quite confident in the structural integrity of my home. Designed and constructed by the Master Builder, you know.

WOLF: Your point?

TRUSTER: You're no match for Him, and you know it.

WOLF: Well, I guess we'll see about that...WHEN I HUFF, AND I PUFF, AND I BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN!!!

(He huffs, puffs, etc. Then...yep, more coughing.)

NARRATOR: Don't worry, folks: he eventually found his inhaler. And when he did...

(The WOLF huffs, and puffs, and, with a mighty gust of breath, the house...remains standing. It doesn’t even budge.)

NARRATOR: After all that huffing, etc., the Wolf found that -

WOLF: (Interrupting.) They know! They know! Can't expect brick to come down on the first try, you know.

(He tries again. Nothing.)

NARRATOR: Once again, the Wolf failed to bring down the house of brick.

WOLF: (Panting.) I...can't understand it...why can't I...blow this doggoned house down?

NARRATOR: But Fenris Oaf wasn't a quitter. He tried again. (The WOLF does so.) And again. (Another try.) And again. (Yet another try.) But in the end, he was defeated. Try as he might, he could not bring down the house that the Master Builder had built.

(The WOLF faints from exhaustion. CRUISER, WORKER, and TRUSTER emerge from the house and dance a merry jig around their fallen foe.)

NARRATOR: There was rejoicing in the land, and merriment for many nights thereafter. And when the time of joy had ended, the three brothers had another talk.

(The brothers step in front of the WOLF. The NARRATOR sits.)

WORKER: Well, all's well that ends well, they say. And never in my life have I been so happy and yet so ashamed, all at the same time. I've learned my lesson, I think. Truster, you were right. Not only about the Master Builder, but about the foolishness of trying to build our own houses. No, when my house came down, my pride came down with it. All the hard work in the world is not enough to make our homes stand in the day of Judgment.

TRUSTER: What about you, Cruiser?

(CRUISER is still somewhat reluctant, but more than a little humbled.)

CRUISER: Life is not as easy and care-free as I had imagined. I've learned that I can't just cruise through life, expecting the world to make it easy on me. And I've learned that there are things in this world that it's good to be afraid of. (Beat.) I, uh...I've also learned that the Master Builder is real.

TRUSTER: Oh?

CRUISER: Yeah. (Smiling now.) And...you'll be glad to know that I turned over the construction of my new home to Him. Soon, there'll be a new brick house around here.

(TRUSTER smiles broadly.)

WORKER: Two new brick houses. But what about you, Truster? Gained any new insights from our harrowin' experience?

TRUSTER: (After thinking a moment.) Two things. First, that although fear, pain, loss, and even death are a part of our world, a time comes when the last enemy will fall; when restoration and rejoicing will return.

CRUISER: And the second lesson?

TRUSTER: That even trust is only as good as its object. All the faith in the world wouldn't have made straw and sticks as strong as brick and stone. And the strength of the brick and stone was only found in the perfection of the Master Builder and His Blueprints.

NARRATOR: And so, the three little pigs rode off into the sunset -

(The WOLF momentarily raises his head before passing out again.)

WOLF: Wrong story!

NARRATOR: Right. Well, they left, anyway, talking amiably amongst themselves.

(The brothers walk offstage, speaking the next few lines as they go.)

WORKER: (To CRUISER.) You really watch Touched By An Angel? Ha!

CRUISER: Hey! That show's helped a lot of people.

WORKER: I think you're the one that needs help.

TRUSTER: Can we have supper now, or do we have to wait until the argument's over?

(THEY EXIT.)

NARRATOR: (Smiling.) You will starve if you wait for that. (To the audience.) Thus ends our little allegory. Did you learn anything? I hope so, though I have my doubts. We've had a lot of budget cuts lately, and making profound moral and theological lessons spring to life through cute fables just ain't as cheap as it used to be. (Beat. He's about to start pontificating again.) I mean, it's not my fault. I suggested several ways to cut expenses, but did they listen to me? Noooo. I tell you, our producers are really a piece of work -

(The WOLF pops his head up again before passing out a third time.)

WOLF: (Interrupting.) This is neither the time nor the -

NARRATOR: (Interrupting as the WOLF faints.) So thank you for joining us on this little journey through the land of symbolic storytelling. We hope you enjoyed it. I'm the Narrator, and that's news to me.

(He exits. Blackout/curtain.)

Books on the Nightstand I

Here's what I have been reading lately, but caveat emptor: while I do recommend that Christians read the following books, for one reason or another, let none suppose that this is always because I agree with everything in these volumes, or even that they are all necessarily good books. Chesterton once said something to the effect that a bad book is in a sense more profitable reading than a good book, because, while the good book tells you something about the author, a bad book tells you something about your culture, and the people who enjoy such books. That said, most of these books are wonderful, and highly recommended. These are in no particular order, and have only in common the fact that I have recently (within the last several months) finished reading them:

Taliessin Through Logres/The Region of the Summer Stars/Arthurian Torso (Charles Williams and C.S. Lewis)
The Flying Inn (G.K. Chesterton)
The Everlasting Man (G.K. Chesterton)
The Magician's Nephew (C.S. Lewis)
The Silver Chair (C.S. Lewis)
The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
War in Heaven (Charles Williams)
Black and Tan (Douglas Wilson)
The Last Disciple (Hank Hanegraaff and Sigmund Brouwer)
The Essential Calvin and Hobbes (Bill Watterson)
Yukon Ho! A Calvin and Hobbes Collection (Bill Watterson)
The Courage and Character of Theodore Roosevelt: A Hero Among Leaders (George Grant)
Grant Comes East: A Novel of the Civil War (Newt Gingrich and William R. Fortschen)
'The Displaced Person' and 'A Good Man is Hard to Find' from The Complete Stories (Flannery O'Connor)

Other books I am working through:

A Generous Orthodoxy (Brian McLaren)
In Freedom's Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce (G.A. Henty)
Trinity and Reality: An Introduction to the Christian Faith (Ralph A. Smith)
How the Irish Saved Civilization (Thomas Cahill)
Four Faultless Felons (G.K. Chesterton)
[With my daughter, Grace] Wise Words: Family Stories That Bring the Proverbs to Life (Peter Leithart)

Happy Reading.

Families As Storytelling Cultures

Here are a few thoughts on building a storytelling culture in the home, which is the focus of Logres Hall. I will be posting more such ideas in the future, as time permits, as part of an ongoing discussion of this important issue. For a more in-depth discussion of this idea, as well as lots more practical tips, see my book, Talking of Dragons: the Children's Books of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis.

1. Parents Must Be Readers! Dad and Mom are the pacesetters in the home, and if you, the parents, are not ‘into’ books, chances are good your children won’t see the value of reading either. Don’t wait for the schools to teach them! You are the most important influence on your child. If reading doesn’t come naturally to you, start off slow—one doesn’t prepare for a marathon by running fifty miles the first day. Build up your ability to read great works. Then pass on that ability to your children. Get the book How to Grow a Young Reader by Kathryn Lindskoog and Ranelda Mack Hunsicker and use it as a guide.

2. Find Remote Controls. Locate ‘Off’ Buttons. Push them. Make a determined effort to make your home less centred on electronic amusements. Consider that the word ‘amuse’ literally means ‘no thought’. Don’t just find more wholesome shows—turn it off completely! This should include TVs, radios, CD players, Playstations, etc. Gather the family around a good book. Make the telling of tales central in your home.

3. Act Out Your Favourite Stories. Make simple costumes (everyday clothes, towels, whatever) and gather a few accessories (toy swords, toy horses, etc) and act out some of your favourite stories, or a few scenes from them, anyway. Let the children play various parts in the story, and coach them on what to say and do.

4. Carry on a Great Story. Take one of your family’s favourite books. Gather everyone together and have a time of creativity. Create new adventures for the characters in the book. If it is a book about a dog who has adventures (Tolkien’s Roverandom is excellent), make up a new story in which the dog meets your family pet. Encourage each person to create a work of art related to the story (drawing, Play-doh sculpture, poem, story, song, recipe, etc).

5. Remember and Relate. A storytelling culture isn’t all about the stories of other people, but about your stories. Around the dinner table, or in the car while travelling, tell the children stories of things that happened when you were a child, or stories your parents or grandparents told you. Every family is its own little culture, with its own traditions, rituals, memories, and stories. Cultivate that cultural identity in your children, and they won’t be so quick to seek identity and acceptance elsewhere. Above all, spend time with them. ‘Quality’ time is a poor excuse for the absence of a large ‘Quantity’ of time.

C.S. Lewis and Racism

Back in December, as the release date of the film version of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe began to get excitingly close, USA Today ran an article: ‘Is that Lion the King of Kings?’, which specifically examined the debate over whether these stories are Christian, whether non-believing audiences can enjoy them, whether even Christians should take the trouble to lead their children to see whatever Christian elements are there (Note: for an article in which I give my views on this subject, check out The Greensboro News and Record right here).

A sidebar article raised the issue of possible productions of the other Narnia books. Andrew Adamson, Wardrobe director, said that, if he were to direct a film version of The Horse and His Boy, he would change one thing, at least: the portrayal of the Calormenes (a kingdom south of Narnia) as a Muslim culture (as Lewis does in the book).

Adamson, and others interviewed, said to follow Lewis at this point would be to ‘exacerbate ethnic tensions and prejudice against Arabs’ in the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists. He said he would recast the Calormenes as another race entirely, probably something not even human.

Two points are in order: first, the books themselves have never been changed, and yet, despite sales of nearly 100 million, there is no evidence they have caused ‘ethnic tensions’.

Second, I think this boils down to a failure to understand what Lewis was doing. Anyone who thinks Lewis created the land of Calormen out of some sort of racial vainglory truly does not understand Lewis at all. In the same USA Today article, Alan Jacobs, an English professor at Wheaton College (a Christian institution), and who should know better, makes a rather silly statement. ‘I think Lewis thought he could draw on the ancient tradition in Europe of fearing the Ottoman Empire,’ Jacobs said. ‘So he changed the name, but kept all the imagery of the dangerous Middle East, something everybody in his generation could recognize and respond to. But then things changed, and in the 20th Century all the threats to Europe were internal. And so that whole tradition was swept away.’

What’s wrong with this analysis? Jacobs acts as though Lewis wrote The Horse and His Boy (the first book in which the Calormenes play a significant part) before he realised that the greater threats to Europe were going to be internal (Germany, say). This is ridiculous: Lewis wrote The Horse and His Boy in 1954, nearly a decade after the end of World War II, and nearly forty years after Lewis himself fought the ‘internal threat’ of Germany in World War I.

But more to the point, I think Lewis’s Calormenes are intended to make, not a racial, but a theological point. Lewis wrote an almost-forgotten work called Williams and the Arthuriad, a commentary on his friend Charles Williams’s cycle of Arthurian poetry (Taliessin Through Logres and The Region of the Summer Stars). In that work, Lewis comments on one of the poems, The Coming of Palomides, and on Williams’s use of Palomides, a Saracen knight. Williams used the Muslim, according to Lewis, as a symbol of ‘all religions that are afraid of matter and afraid of mystery, [of] all misplaced reverences and misplaced purities that repudiate the body and shrink back from the glowing materialism of the Grail’; in short, because ‘Islam denies the Incarnation.’

A full treatment of Lewis’s, and Williams’s, point would be beside our point. It is enough to say that neither man expressed any racial animosity towards Arabs or Muslims at all. Indeed, during his discussion of The Coming of Palomides, Lewis describes Muslims as ‘strong, noble, venerable; yet radically mistaken.’ That is, he admired the people, but disagreed with their doctrine.

This is consistent with Lewis’s own use of the Calormenes in The Horse and His Boy, and later, The Last Battle.

Indeed, the Calormenes, far from being a despised race, completely foreign to their Northern neighbours (Narnia and Archenland), are actually close cousins. In his book, A Field Guide to Narnia, Colin Duriez notes that, ‘Calormen originated in the Narnian year 204, when outlaws fled south from Archenland.’ This fact means that the Calormenes are originally blood relatives of both Archenlanders and Narnians (Archenlanders, like Narnians, were descended from Frank I, first king of Narnia (see The Magician’s Nephew). Thus, Narnians, Archenlanders, and Calormenes all descend from the same man, which is as much as to say, God ‘made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth’ (Acts 17:26).

In addition, there are two noble Calormenes depicted in the books: Aravis (in The Horse and His Boy) and Emeth (in The Last Battle). Granted, their nobility consists, in part, in their rejection of certain aspects of Calormene culture (Aravis leaves an oppressive life in Calormen for freedom in Archenland and Emeth rejects the worship of Tash, the Calormene god), but the point is that their nobility, and their acceptance by the ‘white’ Narnians, has nothing to do with their ethnicity or the colour of their skin. In fact, in The Last Battle, Jewel the unicorn says of Emeth, ‘By the Lion's Mane, I almost love this young warrior, Calormene though he be. He is worthy of a better God than Tash.’ Here again, race or skin colour are irrelevant, and only a man’s words and deeds are taken into account. Critics may still cringe at even this 'theological supremacy' but they may not with any accuracy describe it as racism.

By the way, for a rather silly discussion of Lewis’s ‘racism’, see this article. I don’t know who these people are, but though they have at least some knowledge of the content of the Narnian books, listening to their speculations on the meanings of the stories are rather like watching a drunk alone at a shooting range: nothing alive to shoot at, but the drunk sure seems to think so.