Logos

I want much more than this provincial life!
I want adventure in the great wide somewhere
I want it more than I can tell...

- beauty and the beast

I am not an adventurous individual. I get nervous about car rides and the idea of being on an airplane makes me shudder. Snowboarding? Tubing? Riding a bike down a really steep hill? They all make me want to slink away to my comfy chair in the living room and settle down with a book. Real-world adventure and I don't get along.

Adventure in the realm of ink and paper, however, is quite a different matter. That I couldn't do without. Whether it be an adventure of the past, as in a biography, or one like Treasure Island, where the action is nearly fantastical, there is something thrilling about it. Through the story we see a wholly separate world; through the characters we are allowed to live the adventure. In a way, it takes us out of ourselves.

I suppose this is a large part of the charm of reading. There is only one Emily Dickinson poem that I have read and enjoyed (although I will admit to not being well-versed in her works), and it is probably also her most famous.

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!

Perhaps this is a little embellished, as poetry usually is. Yet it hints at the beauty and power of the written word, its seemingly unlimited capabilities. There are few things that so set Man and his soul apart from the animal realm as his rationality and capacity of both thinking and communicating; last month I wrote a short post on the Imago Dei, and this aspect of Man vividly portrays that God's image in him has not been lost. Jesus Christ is called the Logos, the Word, the thought of the Father communicated, and as humans we are privileged to bear that image through language.

It is impossible to explain the impact of words, yet it is equally impossible to deny that they do indeed have an impact. We joke about the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword and envision a battle between a writer and a soldier, but cliche though the saying may be, it remains true: we would no longer know of the great warriors of history had some writer not chronicled their lives. Words have the ability to transport the reader "lands away," to conjure up another world in his mind, to communicate in a manner that is almost magical. Like so many elements of the human psyche, this is something that, while tangible, is also indefinable.

And yet, also like so many other parts of the human mind, this comes with its own dangers. It is easy to fall into escapism - I know I often do. Is it a godly way of living to shut oneself up in the realm of the written word and never come out? I have heard people declare that they live in the wrong era. These are usually readers, individuals who see another period in the (oft-glorified) mirror of books and wish they had been born in that time. It just seems so much better than the humdrum life we have every day. But not only is this an idealized way of looking at history, it also constitutes a slap in the face of Providence. God knows what He is about; He put us in this day and age for a reason. We must not lose sight of that, or we run the risk of getting so caught up in sighing over days gone by that we forget to live as salt and light here and now.

Are books dangerous, then? Should we all burn our adventure stories? Well, to answer the first question, with our sinful nature it is possible to take anything to excess; and to answer the second, if you intend to get rid of them you should send them to me. Books are wonderfully beautiful and helpful things. So much can be gleaned from them. We cannot live in that realm alone, but I do think we should strive to unite it with the world of our daily lives.

A Comparison

I am a Jane Austen fan.

I always feel very typical and oh-so girlish when I make that confession; it's like saying that pink is my favorite color or that getting a new pair of shoes is a form of therapy (neither of which is true for me). Every girl seems to like Jane Austen. But I figure that the poor lady couldn't help that, and so, popular or not, I am a Jane Austen fan. Her novels are my comfort books. I read them when I'm feeling blue, and just seeing them on my shelf is cheery. Jane Austen and tea are synonymous for "comfort."

Elizabeth Gaskell, on the other hand, is a different matter. A contemporary of Dickens, writing in the mid-1800s when Britain was in the throes of the Industrial Revolution, Gaskell dealt with much harsher subjects than Austen. She also seemed to have a thing with killing characters; I think it made her happy. So many people died in her novel North and South that I came out on the other side very blue indeed, and even the lighter Wives and Daughters had its share of gloom. Light and comfortable her novels are not, and neither are the movies based on her works, particularly the grand miniseries North & South.

Whence, then, the comparison between the two authoresses? Actually, I don't mean to compare them at all. It would be like comparing tea and black coffee; the differences are so vast, where would you even begin? No, I mean to compare two of their characters who are in some ways remarkably similar. If you know about Gaskell and Austen, you have probably guessed which ones I mean. And you would be right: I am going to be cliche for the second time in one post and compare

fitzwilliam darcy and john thornton

The former is more famous than the latter, as Austen is more famous than Gaskell. Fair enough, I suppose, since Austen proceeded Gaskell by about forty years. Yet their two heroes have similarities that stand out even at a glance: dark and brooding types with the same sort of unwilling attraction to the heroine. Each is his own character, however, and they deserve a good look to see where their comparisons end.

mr. darcy

It is impossible to stay that Mr. Darcy is cliche, because he really began the cliche of darkly handsome heroes who have passionate hearts under their arrogance. In addition to that, he has more depth than such a simple generalization could give him: as he says himself, he was given good principles and then left to follow them in pride and conceit; he is selfish and arrogant at his core, and over the course of the story these things change. Yet even early on, he has his good points. He is an affectionate brother to Georgianna and a good, albeit meddling, friend to Bingley, and I consider it proof of his self-control that he was able to show respect to his extremely annoying aunt. He also has his weaknesses, being in his own eyes "unqualified to recommend himself to strangers." (Apparently Georgianna didn't get all the shyness in the family.)

mr. thornton

John Thornton is a more complex character than Fitzwilliam Darcy. Thornton was practically born into hard circumstances: schooled by a stern mother after his father's suicide, put in the position of "man of the house" at an early age. To me, one of the most significant things about his character was the fact that he worked, not merely to provide for himself and his family, but to pay off his father's debts and start afresh. That right there is a mark of courage.

At a relatively early age, Thornton manages to start his own cotton mill - and with his father's history looming over him, he will fight to keep it running. He is certainly biased against the workers and whatever kindness he shows them is rather self-serving; it takes Margaret to change that, as it took Elizabeth to change Darcy. (That seems to be a necessary component of romance novels.)

Of these two, Mr. Darcy is perhaps the grander. His witty comebacks are a riot, and the way Elizabeth slights him and Wickham drags his name through the mud for half the novel is painful for me to read. Yes, Darcy is certainly a favorite. What would the world be without him and Elizabeth Bennet and Pride and Prejudice?

Yet, all in all, I believe that Mr. Thornton is the better man. Despite his faults, he speaks more to an ideal: he works hard, honors his mother, provides for his family, and in time also learns charity in his dealings with the mill workers. I do not mean to read into the novel more than Gaskell, a Unitarian, meant to be there; but I come away from the story seeing at least these biblical values in Thornton, and they are what make me consider him the better character. In a sense, he is more real than Mr. Darcy.

Both characters fit their stories. Pride and Prejudice is light, whimsical, jaunty, while North and South is more gritty and realistic, and the same goes for their heroes (although I wouldn't exactly call Darcy "jaunty"). Mr. Darcy would no more fit in Milton than Mr. Thornton would fit in Pemberley.

...but that would make for an interesting story.