Showing posts with label C. S. Lewis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label C. S. Lewis. Show all posts

Saturday, February 28, 2015

The Concept of Balance in Fantasy

    Most fantasy novels and movies center around the timeless conflict between the forces of Good and Evil. Game of Thrones is one notable exception, but then again, does that series truely qualify as "fantasy"? Nonetheless, as noted conservative Christian critic Vox Day (aka Theodore Beale) has noted, most modern examples of the fantasy genre tend to draw on the concept of "Balance," portraying God and Evil as equivilent opposing forces. This is very noticable, for example, in the case of the wildly popular Star Wars series of films ("will he bring balance to the Force?").

     I recall and even more blatant example of the "balance" concept from the introduction to Ridley Scott's Legend, where viewers read (speaking of the film's characters Princess Lily and Jack 'O the Green)"In their innocence they beleive that only goodness exists in the world. Together they will learn there can be no good without evil...no love without hate...no heaven without hell...no light without darkness.
The harmony of the universe depends upon an eternal balance. Out of the struggle to maintain this balance comes the birth of Legends," thus implying that God cannot exist without the devil. I once remember a Christian movie guide calling that film "totally anti-Christian," and this could well be the reason why.
     The ending of the original Dragonlance Chronicles by margaret Weis and and Tracy Hickman, perhaps best sum up the concept of 'balance.' At the end the war of the Lance, the heroes triumph, but they fail to eradicate the forces of darkness form the world of Krynn. the absent-minded mage Fizban (actually a human incarnation of the God Draco Paladine), an archetype of wise-fool, informs the heroes that evil must persist in the world in order for balance to be maintained. The dragon highlords and evil dragons will remain a menace on Krynn.
    In response the the question posed (I think) by Tanis Half-Elven, "Why shouldn't Good win--drive back the darkness forever?" Paladine replies at one time Good did reign supreme--but the balance was destroyed in the process. 
    This is, as Vox Day has observed, a long way from the works of Tolkien and Lewis, Tolkien in particular, who was the central inspiration for the vast bulk of fantasy novels filling the bookshelves from the late seventies onward. It is also totally anti-thetical to Christianity, which holds that evil is corrosive force. C. S. Lewis observed that evil is to good, not is dark is to lgiht, but as rust is to metal Evil is parasite that, of necessity must feed upon Good in order to persist. Think about. Any human being who does evil does so in pursuit of something good. It's just that they push the rights and values of others to the side in so doing. That is why idols are so dangerous. That is why pride in oneself is so grave a sin. Power, money, pleasure recognition or respect, even the love of one's own family are good things in and of themselves. Okay, 'power' might seem a bit of an exception, but even given the long-standing association of power with corruption, (and the stereotypes of evil aristocrat and ruthless businessman) a person with power is not necessarily corrupt, nor is power itself necessarily a bad thing. 
    Why has modern fantasy strayed so far from its origins in terms of the concept of Good and Evil so central to the Christian faith?






Saturday, February 21, 2015

The Missing Villain

If C. S. Lewis's The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe were told in the same manner that lots of evangelizing Christians (Ray Comfort is one example) told the story of Christ and the situation of sinful humanity, the story might go rather like this:
     The four Pevensie children play hid-and-seek in the old professor's house. Lucy enters the wardrobe, and as the actual story Lewis wrote, meets Mr. Tumnus the faun in the wintry Narnian woods. Tumnus explains to her how the world is under the curse of eternal winter, as the result of the sin of one of her race entering Narnia long ago (this is canonically true, in fact, in the stories Lewis wrote--the entire story is told in The Magician's Nephew). She returns through the wardrobe, but her siblings refuse to believe her story. When Lucy revisits Tumnus, Edmund follows her through the wardrobe. When Lucy tells him the reason for the eternal winter, he refuses to recognize his own sinfullness. Later, when all three children enter Narnia, they encounter the Beavers. They tell the children how Aslan has returned to Narnia, and intends to put an end to the terrible winter. But he can only do so if the children are willing to admit their sinful nature and accept him as their lord. Peter Susan and Lucy agree, and are eager to meet the Great Lion. Edmund, however rebels and heads off into the snow storm alone. The others search, but are unable to find him. But Mr. Beaver tells them that only Aslan can save their brother. They head in the direction of the stone table. Along the way, the eternal winter begins to break.  They meet with Aslan and his followers at the Stone Table. Meanwhile, Edmund has been captured by some evil creatures who intend to sacrifice him. But Aslan sends his followers to save Edmund. However, the Narnians, both good and evil, remind Aslan that Edmund must die to appease the wrath the Emporer Beyond the Sea, because he is a traitor. But Aslan offers to shed his own blood in Edmund's place. Edmund's former captors take Aslan and slay him on the Table, and Emporer's wrath is satisfied. But Aslan returns to life. Edmund aknowledges Aslan as Lord. All of the children now take their places as the rightful kings and queens of Narnia. The End.
      I think it's obvious who it is that's missing in this version of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. And it's rather curious in how evangelists trying to convert people to Christ almost always leave out the the White Witch's allagorical counterpart, namely Satan. This leaves a disturbing impression that God the Father (the Emporer in Lewis's tale), is the real "bad guy", and Christ is rescuing us from Him. But Lewis got it right. It's Satan, not God, who hates humanity and who ultimately works for our destruction. The true story of Christ sacrifice is that of his triumph over the devil. I have very little doubt that, just as in Lewis's fictitious allagory, Satan thought that he had triumphed by killing the Son of God. I have no doubt that Satan is the author of evil in this world. True, he works upon humanity's inborn inclination toward sin, just as the White Witch played on Edmud's selfish nature in the story. But think about it. The Romans who tortured and killed Christ were undoubtedly tools of Satan, whether wittingly or unwittingly.
     Why is Satan left out entirely when the story of Christ's sacrifice is told, whether by atheists or by evangalicals? That is more than a bit of a mystery, but I suspect that Satan may have a hand in that as well. Belief in the devil's existence may seem to some a bit more superstitious than belief in God. I'm really sure why that is; both are supernatural entities after all. If belief in an all-good spiritual being is not too far-fetched, why not being that personifies evil?  Maybe all the caricatures of the devil as red-skinned, pitchfork-wielding horned creature have something to do with it. Personally I don't think Satan has a physical form at all. But leaving the devil out of the picture has more than its share of consequences.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Ted Baehr's Inconsistency on Pullman and Lewis



The movie version of Phillip Pullman’s Golden Compass was poorly received in the U. S. Why this is so, I’m not sure, as, aside from its ideological message, it has as much going for it as Lord of the Rings, and The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. It had undoubtedly had something to do, however, with the large Christian majority here in America. By the time of the film’s release, word had long circulated of Pullman’s atheism, and his intended purpose in writing His Dark Materials. His anti-Lewis, anti-Narnia comments had already been widely quoted. While Pullman was very strident expressing these opinions early on, with the advent of the film’s release, he appeared to backpeddle some, professing that he was not attacking religion per se, but totalitarianism in general, and that the movie contained no anti-faith bias. Apparently he was wary of the chilly reception the film might receive in Christian America. Before the film’s release, to be sure, the atheistic nature of the source material had been in wide circulation on the Internet. Christians, especially Christian parents had been forewarned. The Catholic League even produced a booklet entitled The Golden Compass: Agenda Unmasked, available online in PDF format. In any event, word got around, and American moviegoers stayed away. In Europe and Britain, where secularism now predominates, the movie was reportedly far better received. However, it’s American audiences that count, apparently, as much to the dismay of Pullman and his fans, all plans for the sequels have been shelved.

That is a shame, really. Dakota Blue Richards will never get to play Lyra in some of the most dramatic scenes in the trilogy (unless, of course, the day finally comes when computer graphics can created people indistinguishable from live actors), and some truly extravagant scenes will be sorely missed. Concerned Christians have every right to voice their opinions, and expose the Pullman’s agenda, of course. This is not censorship, by any stretch of the imagination. Yet the sequels have nonetheless been effectively prevented from made, at least for the foreseeable future, thanks mostly to the efforts of American Christians. Are there any foreign filmmakers willing to pick up the trilogy?
In browsing around online, I’ve found a number of critical reactions to Pullman's movie, but one that showed an inordinate amount of bias was the one written by “Dr.” Robert Theodore “Ted” Baehr, for his Movieguide site:
http://www.movieguide.org/archive/32/349
There are several reason that I call Dr. Baehr’s review of the film, in particular, “biased.” I cannot fault or disagree with his aversion to the film’s atheistic elements. Though they have been toned down to avoid controversy, the elements are there nonetheless. The Magisterium officals are very obviously clergyman, for example. And I've yet to hear an actual Chrisitian seriously refer to athiests as "feeethinkers", as one of said clergyman does at one point. But when one looks at Dr. Baehr’s reviews for Narnia, and other Christian-based entertainment, one can see that his own worldview has led to criticism of the almost all elements of the film, some of which are mostly or entirely unmerited. For example:

Regrettably, at points the art direction and special effects look phony and just a little too computer generated. If we just evaluated THE GOLDEN COMPASS on artistic merit, it would be the script, not the just the production values, that would be worth an essay on bad filmmaking and bad scriptwriting. Thus, the movie contains too many boring, didactic speeches and too many scenes where the expository dialogue doesn’t move along the plot. Even so, people probably will forget how dull the first two-thirds are, because the battle sequences are engaging.

Phony special effects? At no during the film did I notice any of the effects to be any less “phony” than those of the previous year’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. And what did Dr. Baehr have to say regarding that film?


The production quality is much greater than the sum of its parts. The camerawork is superb. The computer generated images are enchanting. Aslan comes to life in a magnificent way (he is a real lion!), as do all the creatures of Narnia. The four children are very good, especially Lucy, and the only regret is that Peter and Susan are not given meatier lines. Ms. Swinton would have been a better White Witch if she had been allowed to be more seductive, but her costume often cocoons her personality. The music is good, though not great. The direction is very exciting and entertaining, though it lacks nuance and depth. But, aside from critical nitpicking, the movie is spectacular! C. S. Lewis never wanted a movie made of his books, but one can even imagine that he would be proud of this production, and so everyone involved deserves high praise.

I agree with everything Baehr has to say in the above paragraph, as well as in the review below:

http://www.movieguide.org/archive/32/5853


Save, maybe, for the fact that Tilda Swinton is slightly seductive, which is about as much as she could be allowed to be. In this version, the White Witch appears much kinder than in previous versions, in which she is depiected as almost cartoonishly evil, and you end up wondering how Edmond, even though he’s a just a kid, could be so easily taken in. She is even a bit flirtatious with him in this current version, which, while it would be ineffective on a child, would effectively prove enticing to a pre-teen.

The reason Lewis did not want any movie (other than a possible animated version, like the one shown back in 1978) to made of his works, by the way, was because he felt that no movie could ever do justice to the rich and fantastic imagery in his stories. But that was, of course, long before the arrival of today’s incredible CGI effects. There is no doubt in my mind that Lewis would be terribly pleased. The PBS Wonderworks version of Wardrobe shown back in the late eighties was a handsome production, but the production values—including the fact that Aslan looked like a huge stuffed toy—would have been precisely what Lewis had feared. The producers of that version went the same route they did with The Box of Delights. While the interplay of live actors, faker costumes, and hand-drawn animated sequences worked well for that, as the whole story took place in a dream, Narnia is entire secondary world. However, some of the best dialogue, which was almost all kept intact in the PBS version, is often cut from the big screen version. Most unfortunately missing are the dialogue with the beavers regarding Edmund’s betrayal, and the discussion of the White Witch’s non-human origins. Not to mention the meal cooked by Mrs. Beaver, which according to Lewis involved “a gloriously sticky marmalade roll, steaming hot.”
But back to Dr. Baehr’s reviews. I found the character of Iorek Byrnison, the noble armored polar bear warrior of Compass to be every bit as impressive, and very much equally as awesome onscreen as that of Aslan. It’s notable can’t see at all how much of the action in Compass –which includes Lyra’s rescue by the Gyptions, the battle between the armored bear kings, the liberation of the children form Bolvanger, and the ensuing battle with the Tartars, and many others—could possibly be construed as boring, or that the scenes leading up to them are any less engaging than the first two-thirds of Wardrobe. The chief issue that Baehr raises in his review, however, involves the heroine’s morality. In another passge:

Although the heroine and her friends are portrayed as the people the audience supports, a little objective examination of who they are would make any discerning viewer question why they’re rooting for them. Lyra is known for her lying so much so that her bear friend calls her “silver tongue.” In the story, this is a positive adjective. Even pagan and other non-Christian societies have disliked liars, however, so it’s very strange that Lyra, the story’s heroine, should be commended in this way. In fact, Lyra’s lying is often a useful pragmatic device to solve the story’s plot problems.

Another problem with the story are the confusing character motivations. Mrs. Coulter, for instance, who turns out to be Lyra’s mother, reaches out to Lyra a couple times, including saving her from having her daemon separated from her and killed. In return, Lyra tricks her mother into opening a tin can containing a deadly poisonous mechanical insect. Her mother doesn’t die, but Lyra doesn’t seem to care and, in truth, wants to get rid of her mother. While Lyra is opposed to all authority, including her mother, she easily befriends strangers and accepts their authority and their directives.


Thus, the more one thinks about the world of THE GOLDEN COMPASS, the more one realizes how upside down and inside out it is. Do parents really want their children hate them, rebel against them and want to kill them? Mrs. Coulter may be the villain, but all she really tries to do in this movie is to save her daughter’s life.

The final paragraph is very misleading. What Baehr isn't telling his readers is that Ms. Coulter is the lady in charge of the Oblation Board, which is engaged in the kidnapping and execution of innocent children in horrifyingly unethical experiments run by the Church. A terrible slam on religion to be sure, but one that one within which Mrs. Coulter is culpable for quite a bit more than trying to save her daughter. In the book we see Mrs. Coulter entice a child with chocotyl (a hot drink) and send him off to his eventual death by intercision, much the way the White Witch entices Edmund into betraying his siblings. Mrs. Coulter is scarcely any less evil. In the film, one of the experimenters remarks on “how eager she ( Mrs. Coulter)was to see (the children and their deamons) pulled apart.” It is true that when she sees that Lyra (her own daughter) is about to suffer the selfsame fate, she rushes to intervene, saving her in the nick of time. This is itself be commendable for what it’s worth, but it also demonstrates very clearly a case where parental love is merely an instinct, and as such is, in this case at least, ultimately selfish. Dr. Baehr seems to have forgotten that Christ admonished those who loved their sons or daughters, or mothers or fathers, for that matter, more than Him. Lyra is one who appears to be the most “Christian” here, although Pullman himself would perhaps be reluctant to admit to this. The mechanical insect appeared to be the only way Lyra could escape in this instance. Endangering her mother, then, wasn’t her intent—her intent was to save the other children, which she accomplishes heroically. Lyra’s destruction of the vile intercision device, liberation of the captive children, and her bravely staring down the leader of the Tartars and ravenous wolf-daemons is something Baehr conveniently glosses over. One might as well pose the question: if your parent was Hitler or Stalin, would you or should you remain loyal to them?
The issue Baehr has the most difficulty with is that of a habitual liar as the heroine. Is lying (bearing false witness) absolutely wrong in every conceivable instance? That has been a matter of much philosophical debate. Emmanuel Kant argued that it was. Some modern Christians (including some of my friends on Sabbath Keepers Forum) would agree. There are certain instances in which telling a technical untruth (say to Nazi Green Police who are searching for hidden Jews) appears to work for the human good rather than for evil. On the other hand, lying is generally committed for purely selfish motives, and even well-intentioned lies often wind up causing harm to others. This is called situational ethics, and some opposed Christians would define it as “justifiable sin.” Part of my take on situational ethics would be summed up thusly, for my own post of Sabbath Keepers:

Situational ethics definitely do exist, and they in no way contradict
moral absolutes. Why does God has a prohibition on lying? Becuase in
general lying causes harm to ourselves and others. But I've presented
two stiautions where lying might save someone's life, and cause no one
harm. It's hard to imagine a scenario where commiting adultry or
stealing is necessary to save someone's life. But let's just suppose
that some extortionist threatened to blow up a hosptial or day-care
center, or threatened a person's family unless they committed adultry.
Adultry is, virtually by definition, n act of betrayal, and it is done
for reasons that entirely self-serving and involve disregard for
others--especially one's own spouse and children. But in such a
hypothetical situation, the "adulterer" would not be acting out of
selfishness or lust at all but purely for altruistic reasons.
Now, maybe I'm wrong here, and committing what is technically adultry
here would lead to even greater evils, but I'm at a loss to know how
or why. You seem to be taking a position that some things are wrong
merely because "rules are rules are rules." But morality cannot be
determined according to technicalities such as this. God does not want
you to obey his rules "because I say so!" and that's it. That would
make no moral sense.


The Bible may be the written Word of God, but the Word is alos writ inot one's heart:

For when the Gentiles (non-Jews) which have not the law, do by nature
the things contained within the law, these, having not the law, are a
law unto themselves: which shew (show) the work of the law written in
their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their
thoguhts the mean while excusing or excusing one another..Rom
2, 14-15


It is probably no coincidence that Pullman, as a devout, ideological atheist, invented a heroine of essentially good-hearted nature, whose personal morals are seemingly rather loose. Lyra Belacqua qualifies as something of a picturesque heroine. As such, she compares with Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, tow other picturesque children’s heroic protagonists who were also invented by a devout atheist. Pullman views religion as repressive and authoritative, as a cruel enemy of human freedom. But he is mistaken in seeing God’s morality as depending on nonthinking obedience to technicalities; adherence to technicalities is a flawed human concept, not one invented by God. Another excerpt from Baehr’s review:

What’s bad about the movie, therefore, is not overt atheism. That comes in the later books in the three-part series. What’s bad is that it creates a heroine who is selfish, willful and stubborn to such a degree that she does not express love, kindness, joy, peace, or any of those other wonderful virtues that help us put others before ourselves. The Good News of the Gospel is a message of love and forgiveness, not a message of control. It is a personal relationship with a living God, Jesus Christ, who loves us so much that He has laid down his life for us and has given us new life where we can experience real joy, real happiness and real fulfillment. Every one of the virtues Lyra disdains is a virtue based in love. Her lying hurts others, but telling the truth in love helps others. If, for instance, we could not trust anyone, society would fall apart. Trust, honesty, integrity, and the other virtues flow from our love of one another.

Is Baehr talking about the same movie that I saw? No love, kindness, peace or joy? All the action of the entire plot center’s around Lyra’s quest to save her friend and the other missing children. Surely love and kindness-qualities seemingly absent from both her parents—are in fact both Lyera's most enduring qualities and strongest motivators. In the context of the movie and its situational ethics, Lyra’s lying actually proves beneficial to others; her willful deception of the usurper King Ifor Rakenson enables Iork to gain his rightful place as king. Her deception of the guard a Bolvangar, and later of Mrs. Coulter, liberates the kidnapped children. Baehr’s assessment of that, as I’ve tried to demonstrate, is flawed. But perhaps,in the case of the battling bears, Baehr is refering to villainous Rakinson who is killed in combat, and perhaps she could have found a more peaceful solution? Lyra, however, disdains not a single of the virtues listed by Baehr.

It must be said of Baehr’s ideological inconsistency in light of both Pullman’s and Lewis’s fantasy world that there are some Christian writers out there who are equally critical of Lewis, mostly for the pagan elements of his novels, in spite of the Christianity at the core of the Narnia story (one of the most odiaous being David J. Stewart, who is also a Classic OSAS defender). But it is obvious for Ted Baehr’s reviews that he is engaged in a culture war, and culture may or may not conform to the actual teachings of Christ.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Phillip Pullman and C. S. Lewis




Most readers of current fantasy literature are familiar with Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, which is set in a subtly magical alternate version of Oxford, England. Pullman wrote the series on purpose to counter the teachings of C. S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia. It is an intentional reverse-viewpoint to the Christian one of Lewis. Pullman's vitriolic hatred of Narnia, is, by now, very well-documented. This hatred of the Narnia books is more than a bit puzzling; Pullman has infamously stated that the Narnia books are "one of the ugliest and most poisonous things I've ever read". A strange statement because, as Christian works go, the Narnia books are among the most non-judgemental, non-poisonous books the genre has to offer. Had Pullman been talking about say, Jack Chick, that charge might have made sense. Chick tracts generally DO depict the Christian worldview as ugly and poisonous, and the Christian god as unforgiveing and tyranical--not to mention (I dare say it)unconcerned with real morality.

But Lewis's depiction of Christ and God throughout the Narnia Chronicles and his apologetic works for adults is a far more benevolent one. I'm tempted even to say "liberal," though that's hardly accurate, as Lewis did subscribe to tradtional Christian morals. However, it is the brand of Christianity actually promoted by Lewis that is very reason some groups of fundamentalist Christians have major problems with him. I've read quotes from some Christians who honestly beleive Lewis is even now suffering torment in hell for his beleifs. I'll briefly state that their God is not a moral one, and his motives for punishing Lewis not based upon true morals but on technicalities, before getting to the heart of the matter by examining the following quote by Phillip Pullman:


There's a distinction between the things Lewis says as a critic, which are very acute and full of sense and full of intelligent and sometimes subtle judgements – much of which I agree with – and the things he said when was possessed by the imp of telling a story, especially in his children's fiction.

Narnia has always seemed to me to be marked by a hatred of the physical world. When I bring this up, people say, oh no, what nonsense! He loved his beer, loved laughter and smoking a pipe, and the companionship of his friends and so on.

And so he might have done. But that didn't prevent perhaps his unconscious mind from saying something quite different in the form of a story. I'm by no means alone in attacking Lewis on these grounds.



Notice that Pullman takes Lewis to task for what he terms "hatred of the physical world," essentionally for being what might be called overly spiritual, concerned for the world beyond this one--which, as far as Pullman is concerned, does not exist. Anti-Lewis Christians, on the other hand, take Lewis to task precisely because he DID indulge in worldly pleasures. Lewis is well-known to have smoked and drank, and was known to have remarked that he enjoyed good eating, the obvious reason for all the mouth-watering food references throughout the Narnia. Lewis may have felt he was "made for another world," but he had hardly given up appreciating the pleasures afforded by this one while he remained on earth. Lewis's critics, it must be acknowledged, are not entirely off the mark here. Christ did indeed warn that one must hate the world, even hate himself, to become his disiple. Jesus spoke in metaphor, and it would be foolish to take these statements literally, however. We know that the taking of one's own life is a sin, and Christ did not prohibit drinking, only drunkenness. Jesus spoke to his followers in these seemingly extreme terms to hammer his point home: indulging in the physical world is gratifying one's animal nature, and is, if carried beyond moral limits, a form of selfishness that blinds one to the needs of others. And helping others was central to Christ's teaching; here is the real reason why wordly overindulgence is sinful. Did Lewis qualify as overindulgent? Probably not, as I've read nothing to suggest he was anything other than caring for the less fortunate, though all of us are fallible at times. But what the anti-Lewis crowd truely objects to about him are his theological beleifs, some of which run counter to their own orthodoxies.

For one thing Lewis was well known as an inclusionist, a belief system which holds that even those outside Christianity can still be admitted to heaven in certain circumstances. In other words, those who are often considered as unbeleivers are not necessesarily sent to hell. To beleive that they are, merely because of their failure to recognize certain facts about Christ, is to beleive admission to heaven is dependent upon certain technicalities rather than actual morals. Lewis communicated his inclusionist beleif most strongly with the Calormene boy Emeth in The Last Battle. Emeth is a noble and virtuous character who has been seeking the Truth all his life. The problem is, he has been taught worongly; in fact, he's been taught the very reverse of the actual truth. When he finally encounters Aslan (Christ), he is admitted into Heaven, because once he finds the real truth, he accepts more than willingly. There are, of course, some Christians who nonetheless object to this, because of their beleif that Heaven is essentially a club for Christians only, rather than a reward of Eternal Life for the virtuous. This notion, I beleive, is rooted in human tribalism, rather than in religion. The idea that one must belong to to one's particular faith in order to be saved also pops up in various Christian cults. Some OSAS proponents even state that one must be an Eternal security to enter heaven. Such notions are entirely fallicious, of course, as the both cults and OSAS (which originated with John Calvin), did not even exist for hundreds of years after Christianity had long established itself.

But back to Pullman and his objections to Lewis. The character of Emeth (who is a dark-skinned Calormene) is one of the facts which flies in the face of Pullman's charges of racism on Lewis, as others have noted. Pullman's charges of racism and sexism on the Narnia books, in fact, have the intellectual depth of a PC Democrat's ad-hoc attacks on his Replublican rivals during an election, something one would think would be beneath a writer of such obvious depth and talent. But are Pullman's attacks on Lewis entirely genuine? One would think that he would at least acknowledge Lewis talent as a creative fantasist, yet he has not done so to my knowledge. But here is another interview quote that might prove enlightening:

Because the things he's being cruel to are things I value very highly. The crux of it all comes, as many people have found, with the point near the end of the Last Battle (in the Narnia books) when Susan is excluded from the stable.

The stable obviously represents salvation. They're going to heaven, they're going to be saved. But Susan isn't allowed into the stable, and the reason given is that she's growing up. She's become far too interested in lipstick, nylons and invitations. One character says rather primly: 'She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown up.'

This seems to me on the part of Lewis to reveal very weird unconscious feelings about sexuality. Here's a child whose body is changing and who's naturally responding as everyone has ever done since the history of the world to the changes that are taking place in one's body and one's feelings. She's doing what everyone has to do in order to grow up.

Maybe one day she'll grow past the invitations and the lipstick and the nylons. But my point is that it's an inevitable, important, valuable and cherishable stage that we go through. This what I'm getting at in my story. To welcome and celebrate this passage, rather than to turn from it in fear and loathing.

That's what I find particularly objectionable in Lewis – and also the fact that he kills the children at the end. Now here are these children who have gone through great adventures and learned wonderful things and would therefore be in a position to do great things to help other people.

But they're taken away. He doesn't let them. For the sake of taking them off to a perpetual school holiday or something, he kills them all in a train crash. I think that's ghastly. It's a horrible message.


Notice that in the next to the last paragraph, he states "Now here are these children who have gone through great adventures and learned wonderful things and would be in a postion to do great things to help other people." Note that here Pullman appears to give Lewis credit where credit is due after all. He acknowedlges there are "great adventures" in the Chronicles, and even that the children have learned "wonderful things," something that would hardly characterize Lewis and Narnia as morally deficient. It seems, also, that virtually all of Pullman's criticsm of the actual story and substance of Narnia is focused entirely on the climax of The Last Battle, the final book of the series.

Let me say, before criticising further, that Pullman makes a valid point here. I will state, unequivally, that Lewis is guilty of a very bad story-telling blunder when he "kills off," the children in order to get them to heaven. There is simply no need for this. I do not beleive that Lewis was dismissive of charity, honesty, or any other of Christ's teachings in the here and now. The books themselves stress the importance or morality (as even Pullman appears to be aware), and even Lewis's own life would tend to refute Pullman's contention that for Lewis, the next life is the only one that matters. That said, I'd say that Lewis was simply guiltly of oversight, not warped ideology, in writing the ending. The children could have lived charitable and productive lives in the service of Christ until they reached a ripe old age. Upon reaching Aslan's country, they might well have become as children again. It is in fact often speculated that we will appear in heaven as we did during the best part of our lives--a man who dies at eighty would not appear as eighty-year old in heaven. Even time would not work as it does on earth, and those who arrived "early' in heaven might meet up with loved ones who died later on. We can only speculate on the afterlife, of course, and Lewis could have done better then he did.

As for the problem of Susan, it, too, should be considered a literary flaw, as she was one of the heroic characters in the early Narnia, and her sudden exclusion at the end makes little sense. However, as others have pointed out, Lewis merely leaves it open-ended as to what Susan's eternal destiny wil be. Her interest in trivilaties appears to be a adolescent stage she is going through, in fact, and not true maturity, which I don't beleive Lewis is trying to discourage.

It has also been pointed out that Pullman has a similar problem in his own series, which might well be called "The Problem of Roger". Roger is the best friend of Lyra Belacqua in the first book of the series. Most of The Golden Compass centers around Lyra rescuing Roger form the Oblation Board, a Church-sponsored orgnization charged with conducting unethical experiments on children. Lyra is successful in saving Roger, but she might as not have been, as Roger is murdered by Lord Asrial, Lyra's "uncle" (actually her biological father) in same manner as the Oblation board , no less, in order to open a transdimensional portal. Lord Asriel, by the way, is the person whose goal is to overthrow the phony "God" (known as the Authority) and estabish a "Republic of Heaven" characterized by freedom and tolerence. In the words of Orson Scott Card, in his review of Pullman's novel:

In other words, even as he attacks religion for all the evil that it causes, he can't get through his own story without having his heroes duplicate all the evils he deplores -- right down to sacrificing an innocent, unwilling child's life to open a door into another world, an act committed by a character who ends up being the leader of the anti-religious religion.

The rest of Card's essay, which I can't recomend enough, can be found here:

http://www.ornery.org/essays/warwatch/2002-04-15-1.html

The question is, is Pullman guilty of morality slip here or not? He clearly is in sympathy with the "Republic of Heaven" idea. It depends if he is agreement with Asrial's ruthless means of acheiving it. If so, the he is promoting emiricism, an "ends justifies the means" morality. Or possibly he is operating on the "happiness vs. suffering" system of morality promoted by most atheists. If morality is determined by the amount of happiness or suffering occurs for greatest number of people, then one could indeed reach the conclusion that Roger's death could be justified. That is, if more the estabishment of the Rebulic would promote greater happiness among its citizens, then the death of one measly kitchen-boy is relatively inconseqeltial. The problem here is, of course, that our innate moral consiousness ---which as Christians, we beleive is installed in us by God--tells us otherwise. The number of individuals and degrees of happiness acheived is not enogough to argue the morality of a single murderous action.
However, it is not a forgone conclusion that Pullman himself shares his character's postion. He may not agree that Roger's death was a necessary evil to achieve a greater good. Asriel is far from a heroic character in many aspects, although his ultimate goals may be admirable in intent. It is Lyra who is the true hero, and she is never guilty of such morally reprehensible action. Pullman has others reasons for killing off Roger at the end of book one, which come to light in The Amber Spyglass, the third and final volume. An actual afterlife awaits spirits in Pullman's universe, not Heaven of Hell, but a realm similar to Greek Land of the Dead, where the ghosts wander about in a state of eternal boredom. They have been put there by the Authority, the pretender God, whom Lyra and Will eventually euthanize. Lyra finds Roger, and then liberates him and the other spirtis from the land of the Dead. What happens then is that they simply dissipate into nothing, though Pullman attempts to put a pretty face on what is surely oblivion at this point. He doesn't succeed, but he probably does that best he possibly can at making nothingness sound appealing. Like most atheists, Pullman beleives that oblivion is what really waits for us all in the real world, so here he's communicating what he beleives to be the true fate of all conscious beings.

But one more thing about Pullman's trilogy. Pullman imagined an alternate reality in which John Calvin has become Pope, and supposedly Calvinism reighns supreme. Why did he do this? In a DVD I have about the background of His Dark Materials in which Pullman explains that heretics where burned under Calvin, including a child heretic. Naturally Pullman is outraged by the terrible evils perpetuated by the church, and Calvin specifically. It may not be a coincindence then, that the doctrine of OSAS originited with Calvin, who undoubtedly beleived he was going to heaven in spite of his misdeeds. Pullman, of course, sees only religion itself as the problem. Perhaps he should look deeper....