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I'm still pondering how to apply the message of this one! This guy recreates classic works of art in the dirt on cars.
There is a lot of dirt around the internet, as well as in offline life. People who somehow stand out because of their position, or because they dare to stand up against something wrong, are prime targets for mudslinging. How exactly do you make art out of that?
I've never been one to deliberately put any of the mud I've encountered in my life into my fiction. Some writers and artists like to work out their troubles in their art, finding it cathartic. I just find that the deep involvement needed for a creative endeavour fixes any pain and unpleasantness deeper in my soul. Besides, as a clergy wife, I need to err on the side of being circumspect. So, while I share any novelist's amusement with this slogan,
I wouldn't really go there...however tempted! :-)
It still remains to be seen how to turn dirt into art, or lead into gold......But meanwhile I do find this artist's approach refreshing!
0 Comments on Turning Dirt into Art as of 3/15/2011 5:01:00 PM
Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion of your own gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself at all. ~William Temple
There's a lot to like about this year's big Oscar-winner, The King's Speech. Lots of better-informed people than I have said many things about such aspects as the outstanding performances by Geoffrey Rush and Colin Firth, so I won't just repeat those kinds of things. To me, one spiritually-refreshing thing about the story really stands out, and that is the great combination of humility and daring.
Lionel Logue, the speech therapist who helps "Bertie" (George VI) overcome his speech difficulties, is from the first encounter respectful but firm with his royal client. He insists on first names only-- not only for himself, but also for everyone he helps, whether they are children or the man who is forced by circumstances to ascend the throne. At first glance, this radically egalitarian custom might appear anything but humble, but Logue's self-effacing manner make it clear-- he has a willingness to serve, to help others that dates from his time helping shell-shocked Australian soldiers recover after the First World War. And his respect and compassion for those he can help is universal. He has a quiet self-confidence, and no need to tear down anyone else in order to elevate himself.
Still, in that still very class-conscious era, it is daring to insist that a royal meet a lowly Australian in a grimy-looking basement office, and communicate on a first-name basis with the therapist. But Logue holds his position without ever forcing it, and eventually Bertie comes around.
Bertie too has a certain humility-- indeed he has suffered humili-ation all his life, a lefthander forced to write with his right and developing a crippling stammer under his autocratic and unsympathetic father. But unlike his elder brother, heir apparent David (Edward VIII) Bertie too has a servant's heart, and a willingness to undertake the heavy burden of the kingship, even handicapped as he is by his speech difficulties. He too steps forth in daring, to comfort and inspire his people in the time of great testing.
But I think the scene that illustrates the combination of humility and daring most vividly is the one where Logue insists he and the king-elect be left alone in Westminster Abbey to rehearse the coronation speech. At one point Bertie turns around to find his speech therapist comfortably draped across the throne. Cheeky? A little. But Logue never makes it about himself. His daring to take such a liberty is all to get Bertie motivated. The act is, on the surface, disrespectful to tradition, but Logue's manner is never disrespectful. As the William Temple quote above has it, Humility is freedom from thinking about oneself at all.
Here's an excerpt from just the sort of post I would have written about Keats, if I knew Keats the way my daughter knows Keats:
Keats was instrumental in my switch from Theatre to English Literature as a post-secondary focus. At first his tragic life story merely aroused a sort of longing and pity of the sort that can only be manifested in the hormonal tempest of a 16 year-old female, and encourages infatuation. But when that settled, and I was able to take a more sober and educated approach to his poetry, it was his relative innocence and optimism, and most importantly hisgenuinenesswhich held lasting appeal. His "philosophy" was unpolished and his verse somewhat immature (and occasionally just plain cheesy). But I liked this better than the appalling self-importance and sophistication of the other Romantic poets. Here was a man laying himself open completely to you in all his imperfection and asking you to love him.
If, like me, you think you might be wanting some Lenten refreshment this year, let’s share some ideas!
I’m looking for suggestions for topics, books and films to review, links to refreshing websites.
Tell me what you think of when you hear the phrase “spiritual refreshment”.
If I use your suggestions, I’ll give credit, and link back to your blog or site if you provide the link.
Comment on this thread on Facebook, e-mail me at matdonna at shaw dot ca, or leave a comment on the guestbook tab here at my blog, A Spell for the Refreshment of Spirit. Check out some of the posts below and you’ll see what kind of things I’m looking for.
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As I post this, I am just getting over a stomach bug which has hit my extended family. A number of other indicators suggest a rough Lent ahead.....so as an antidote I am going to do my best to make posts on this blog weekly or more frequently. Hope you will find that they refresh your Lent as well.
0 Comments on Refreshment of Bach as of 2/25/2011 3:55:00 PM
The story is told of a new priest who is assigned to a parish that has a history of bickering and discord. His first homily is on the topic “Love one another”(John 13:34).It sounds good to them. As they get his blessing on the way out ofchurch they say, “Lovely homily, Father.”But next Tuesday the same people are at each other’s throats at the parish council meeting. Father says nothing.
The following Sunday, he gives the same sermon, word for word. Some of the people were asleep last week, so they don’t really notice. A few of them blink and wonder if this new priest is quite all right in the head. But they get his blessing and thank him for the homily anyway as before. During the week, Father is invited to the Sisterhood meeting. They conduct their business, ask Father to pronounce the blessing, and break up for tea. Father is such a quiet sort that some of them forget he’s there and start gossiping about their neighbours. Father says nothing but, you guessed it, he trots out that same sermon at Sunday liturgy, “Love one another.”
This goes on for several more weeks until at last the parish council calls an emergency meeting, with just one item on the agenda. They confront their pastor: “When are we going to get a new sermon, Father?”
Father smiles. “Just as soon as you’ve learned to put this one into practice!”
This same lesson seems to be echoed in the cycle of the Church year. We come to the Church’s New Year every September, and I for one have sometimes wondered—how can anything be “new” when we do it over and over again?
Everyone is talking about civility today. I'm not American, so before the tragic shooting recently I hadn't been closely following the ever-deepening political divide south of the border. However, for a long time I have noticed the same deterioration of civility in our society in general.
Today’s articles have reminded me of a refreshing story I have been meaning to post about for some time. It’s Blast from the Past, the 1999 film starring Brendan Fraser as a young man who is raised in isolation in a bomb shelter with 1950’s values and emerges into a rougher, ruder 1990s world at age 30.
Wacky fun ensues, and of course romance (since the young man’s name is Adam, and the woman he meets is named Eve….)But beneath the humour and levity are some fairly profound points. Adam may seem rather naïve to the other characters, but they end up admiring his honourable and respectful behaviour, and find their own attitudes changed by him. Here is an excerpt:
Eve: Now hold on, hold on just a minute! In the first place I do not fall in love with weirdos who ……have perfect table manners!
Troy: You know, I asked him about that. He said, good manners are just a way of showing other people we have respect for them. See, I didn't know that, I thought it was just a way of acting all superior. Oh and you know what else he told me?He thinks I'm a gentleman and you're a lady…I mean, I thought a "gentleman" was somebody that owned horses. But it turns out, his short and simple definition of a lady or a gentleman is, someone who always tries to make sure the people around him or her are as comfortable as possible.
Those lines alone make it one of my favorite films.
The thing that amazes me about US politics is that there is so little difference between the two main parties, yet the closer they are to each other, mthe more exaggerated the rhetoric with which their supporters attack each other.
Republican supporters attack Democrat supporters as if they will leave no baby unaborted, yet in 8 years Bush did not stop abortion. Democrat supporters attack Republican supporters as if they were intent on invading every country in the world, yet Obama still; hasn't brought US troops back from Afghanistan and Iraq.
The more closely they resemble each other, the more viciously they attack each other.
Don't forget, as often with this blog, HERE THERE BE SPOILERS!!!!
Most underappreciated Christmas movie I know! I suppose because it's British and not Hollywood...the quirky tale of a little boy who talks to saints and who suddenly has a giant cache of cash literally dropped on him.......
I could talk about it, but maybe you should just read what the critics say as quoted by Wikipedia (emphasis added by me) :
The film received very positive reviews, earning an 88% "Certified Fresh" approval rating on the review aggregate website Rotten Tomatoes.[3]
Roger Ebert awarded it a rating of four out of four stars and declared it "one of the best films of the year." He went on to write, ". . . althoughMillions uses special effects and materializing saints, it's a film about real ideas, real issues and real kids. It's not sanitized brainless eye candy. Like all great family movies, it plays equally well for adults—maybe better, since we know how unusual it is." It was on his Top 10 movies of 2005 placing at number 10.[4]
I've been waiting a long time for this animated movie,The Secret of Kells. Wasn't able to see it in theatres, but our mail order DVD arrived the other day. I've only watched it once so far, with a few of the short extra features. I'm especially looking forward to the commentary.
The Book of Kells is a 8th-9th century illuminated Gospel book, now housed in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, whose website tells us
"The Book of Kells (Trinity College Dublin MS 58) is celebrated for its lavish decoration. The manuscript contains the four Gospels in Latin based on a Vulgate text, written on vellum (prepared calfskin), in a bold and expert version of the script known as "insular majuscule".
The place of origin of the Book of Kells is generally attributed to the scriptorium of the monastery founded around 561 by St Colum Cille on Iona, an island off the west coast of Scotland. In 806, following a Viking raid on the island which left 68 of the community dead, the Columban monks took refuge in a new monastery at Kells, County Meath. It must have been close to the year 800 that the Book of Kells was written, although there is no way of knowing if the book was produced wholly at Iona or at Kells, or partially at each location."
This is the inspiration for the story told by this Oscar-nominated film, its hero a young boy named Brendan who is fascinated by the art of illumination. His uncle, abbot of the monastery at Kells, a disillusioned former illuminator, is bending all the community's efforts on erecting a wall against the threat of Viking attack. When Brother Aidan, survivor of the massacre at Iona comes seeking refuge and bringing the partially complete gospel book, Brendan must decide whether to face his fears and defy his uncle to help Aidan complete the book. Brendan is aided by a forest spirit and the white cat Pangur Ban (made famous in an ancient Irish poem.)
Ifmore of usvaluedfoodandcheerand song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.-- Thorinn in The Hobbit
I was hunting for stuff about Bilbo's Birthday. Because of course it's coming up soon. I am partial to the feasting and the cozy feeling involved in such a celebration...though I think I will forgo the excuse to go barefoot.
I am behind the times-- anti-cyberbullying campaigns apparently took their toll on Juicy Campus, the gossip website, a "virtual bathroom wall' for abusive, degrading, and hateful speech." and when they could not turn a profit any more, the owners shut it down last year!
GOOD NEWS!
0 Comments on Update on Juicy Campus as of 1/1/1900
This post originally appeared on my main writing blog, The Rafters Scriptorium. Now that Refreshment of Spirit is no longer on hiatus, I'm moving this post here, which is the right place for it.
The Refreshment of Spirit blog is about spiritually refreshing stories—the kind that Lucy read in the Magician’s Book in Voyage of the Dawn Treader, after she had been on some rather harrowing adventures, including reading another of the spells in the book that was not so refreshing.
I am not a Pollyanna by any means. But a while back I began to grow weary of the constant negativity and incivility and downright injustice I seemed to be seeing, not just on the evening news but everywhere I went. I don’t think we need to pretend such things don’t exist—quite the opposite. We need to point them out, refuse to let them be swept under the rug, and do what we can about them. Thus was born the Refreshment of Spiritblog, so I could write about the thing I love best in all the world—stories that bring us a little closer to the Author and Redeemer of all.
All good things come from Him, and the stories I love are not always explicitly theological. Indeed, I even sometimes find refreshment in the stories of avowed atheists, because anything good in them comes from the source of all good. All creativity flows from the Creator. The end product may be warped, muddied and distorted, but the jewels that shine through the grime still get their sparkle from Heaven.
Lately there has been talk of the need for civility in human interactions. As I noted in another post, politeness, civility, good etiquette --whatever you choose to call it—while it falls a long way short of the self-sacrificing agape Christians are called to, does enable us to make a start. Decent social behaviour does not make a saint of a sinner any more than tithing can make a generous man of Scrooge; but both can help ease the damage done to other people surrounding the miser or the misanthrope.
As Deacon Michael Hyatt, CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers points out, only God can ultimately ‘validate’ us. But this delightful short film which I found posted on his terrific publishing blog shows one of those ways in which every day life can be transfigured with a small change. T.J. Thyne of Bones stars in this fable as a parking lot attendant who transforms the lives of people who come to him to get ‘validated’. The film is 16 minutes long—I encourage you to take your coffee break to watch it and be refreshed!
I've been working mostly on my Haliwerfolc blog about Saint Cuthbert for the last year, but now my books are handed in to the publisher and will be coming out in 2010.
Last night we performed our annual ritual of watching A Charlie Brown Christmas. You know it's a classic, and you don't need me to tell you the story. You can find something of the story behind the story in this article.
Most famously, Linus recites for us "What Christmas is all about" from the Gospel of Luke, verses 8 through 14: [King James Version]
"'8And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 10And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 11For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 12And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"
Merry Christmas, everyone.
0 Comments on ....And that's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown as of 1/1/1900
Think of this post as the Wood Between the Worlds. As it says in The Magician's Nephew, "it was the quietest wood you could possibly imagine....not the sort of place where things happen.........."
That is how it will be here for most of 2009, I think, though I hope things will happen here again before Christmas. I love the topics in his blog and hate to set it aside temporarily, but I have some pressing business to take care of in several different worlds. You can visit these worlds by diving into the various link-pools below:
Through the pool that leads to St. Herman's Church: it's almost Lent, which means singing in the choir at extra services every week. And in Holy Week things will get even more interesting, as I have a second grandkid due to arrive.
Through the pool that leads to 9th Century Northumbria: I have just signed my contract with Conciliar Press for Bearing the Saint, so I will be buckling down and aiming to have a presentable, close-to-final draft by end of summer.
Through the pool next door to that one: I hop still further back in time, to the 7th Century, as I consult with my editor about my Saint Cuthbert picture book, The Ravens of Farne.
And next to both of these....Anewpool to the world called HALIWERFOLC,which will only open magically to
This poster visualizes the spread of anonymous gossip as the production of destructive monsters. Designed by Alex Godfrey for Ownwhatyouthink.com. Download Poster PDF.
The latest fads in our society almost never produce refreshing news. On the other hand, sometimes, like in the post from before Christmas about the guy who overcame disability to build a useable Viking Ship from popsicle sticks , you'll get somebody that says "You can't take me down!"to evil, tragedy, pain or disaster. Or to a current fad.
Remember the Magician's book in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader?(Sure you do, without it I wouldn't have the premise for this very blog! :-)
It exists. Or at least, one of the spells from its pages does. That's the spell that Lucy tried out to see what her friends really thought of her. Lewis-as-narrator ofVoyage of the Dawn Treader remarks of the words of this spell "nothing will induce me to tell you what they were."
But people today can find it --on the internet, of course. I guess we should have expected that, eh?
Blogs, e-mail lists, social networks, forums.....all of these have potential for damage. Writers may be indiscreet or even malicious as they slip into careless remarks about friends, or in a passive-aggressive way announce on their Facebook update or Twitter "Marjorie Preston (the girl who gossiped about Lucy) was getting pretty tired of some people by the end of last term."
But there is a site even more egregious than these, that exists for the very purpose of saying all sorts of things, without any social constraints at all. I'm not linking to it. It's called Juicy Campus, and it's a gossip cesspool like we've never seen before, where college students come to write the kind of stuff that used to only appear on washroom walls. Classmates may find themselves hounded, outed, harassed, labeled and slandered-- and unlike Lucy's friends in the Magician's book, the perpetrators get to remain anonymous.
But it's all in good fun. Well, fun like running with scissors, that is, until somebody gets an eye poked out.....
But hang on. This evil website has a noble twin.
Started by students at Princeton,Own What You Think.com"seeks to unite people and bring personal accountability back into the ways in which we communicate and interact with each other. It is about encouraging individuals to voice their opinions respectfully and constructively while refusing to participate in anonymous and malicious character assassination. It is also about taking a personal stand for something and encouraging others to do the same. "
Among the initiatives of their campaign for civil discourse, these students have created a "love wall" in which they write positive things about others; T-shirts that declare "anonymity=cowardice" and a petition/pledge that begins:
We, the undersigned, commit ourselves to taking a stand against anonymous character assassination, a culture of gossip, and all other acts of ethical and intellectual cowardice.
Bravo, Princeton and other colleges that have joined the campaign. Call it prissy and Pollyannaish if you like...when you see the stuff they are taking a stand against, ownwhatyouthink.com is what I call good magic.
0 Comments on Anonymity=Cowardice, Honesty=Refreshment of Spirit as of 1/1/1900
yikes! such madness. on the other hand, it's refreshing to see that there still are people out there with some heart and common sense who see practical and wonderful ways to counteract this kind of nastiness.
A Viking ship made totally from ice cream and lolly sticks!
The ship called Thor was built by a man who was injured badly as a child but would not listen to the naysayers and was determined to do remarkable things with his life.
Now the ship is sailing up the Thames to deliver Christmas toys to sick kids. Saint Nicholas, the patron who gives gifts to children in need as well as the patron of sailors, must be thrilled-- a ship named for a pagan Scandinavian god coming to England to deliver gifts, not to loot them, as the Scandinavian invaders did once upon a time!
Links to more Christmas material below, in previous post.
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It is that time of year.....and rather than create yet another Christmas post at the moment, I'm going to ask you to consider giving the gift of Story this Christmas. If you're reading this blog, of course, you probably already have books on your gift list for your nearest and dearest.
But I'd like you to also consider giving a book for older kids or teenagers to your local Christmas bureau. These older kids in need are often forgotten at this time of year. Chances are, these kids are not from bookish homes, so the challenge is to present something that will grab them.
Obviously, The Chronicles of Narnia are one of my own favorite suggestions. Packaged to tie in with the films, they are appealing to a whole new generation of kids. And of course the Harry Potter phenomenon has made reading a bit cooler than it was before-- film tie-ins are good here too.
CDs and films that tell or tie in with good stories are also good bets for this purpose. A recent underappreciated film that I hope to blog on at some point is Penelope. This one is wonderful for girls.
Please do chime in and offer your own suggestions, particularly of stuff that's currently widely available.
Meanwhile, if you came here looking for a seasonal read, click on one of these:
"Cold Hands, Warm Heart"-- what could make Jack Frost decide to rebel against the Winterfolk and join the side of Summer? Short fiction from my archive of previously-published stories.
Penelope would be a brilliant choice for a chick night for the girls from the youth group!
Anonymous said, on 12/10/2008 10:41:00 AM
Good ideas! Two book series my non-bookish son also likes are the Eragon series and the Series of Unfortunate Events. I also want to plug Madeleine L'Engle 's stuff -- great reads!
My husband said it was like a Hollywood fairy tale ending.
For several years now our church, the Orthodox Church in America, has been agonizing over a financial scandal of vast proportions. We have been leaderless, our membership wounded and divided as we approached our most recent “All-American” Council in Pittsburgh. This gathering of clergy and laity from all over North America had as its most important goal the choosing of a new Metropolitan.
Many people have been praying for many months or longer, both individually and corporately, for God’s mercy and guidance. True, a great deal of progress had already been made before the council in removing problem people from office, sorting out as much of the financial mess as possible, and setting up new Best Practices procedures to prevent such things in future. But the wounds were still raw, and the way ahead unclear. Many approached the council gathering with trepidation, the light of hope burning only dimly.
Tuesday night we began to see prayers answered. The newly-consecrated auxiliary bishop of the Diocese of the South, Bishop Jonah, spoke to the delegates in response to many of the pained and difficult questions about the scandal, and something happened. The next day, the majority of the delegates gave him their votes. The Holy Synod of Bishops then stepped out in humility and confirmed the people’s choice of this most junior bishop, consecrated to his office only 11 days earlier. It brought to mind St. Paul’s exhortation to the young bishop Timothy, “let no-one despise your youth, but be an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.”
Our membership could not see or agree upon a clear way out of our morass of denial and recriminations, but the Holy Spirit working in synergy with God’s people has now provided one. “It was like Pentecost” one of my husband’s priestly friends said.
Whistle-blowers and gadflies have risked, and some have suffered, great things to inform and motivate the people of God to seek an answer to our troubles. And the people rose to this challenge, both in prayer and in action. Now we have a completed investigation, a new Metropolitan with a new emphasis on genuine conciliarity, and public thanks and vindication given to many of those who dared to speak out.
This is a fairy-tale ending-- the happy turn at the end of a tale, which J.R.R. Tolkien calls a "eucatastrophe". But in God’s Kingdom, such an ending is only a beginning. Only in the next world is there a true and final happy-ever-after. Having begun the race, we must not look back, but press on to the prize. Our bishops have truly said that trust cannot be re-established—they must earn it. There are wounded little ones who still need healing.
But perhaps most encouraging of all is the way some of the strongest critics of the previous administration are speaking positively of this AAC and our new metropolitan. We have a new Metropolitan Council, and there is no reason to think they will not be vigilant and wise as the wheels of the OCA begin to move. They are beginning to move, and now that they are moving, it will be possible to steer.
Some remain a little skeptical. That is all right, and to be expected after our experience of the last few years. There is however a difference between skepticism and cynicism. The skeptic asks sincere questions and says ‘show me.’ The cynic however says ‘I don’t believe, no matter what you are showing me.’ Only the individuals can know in their hearts (if God grants them true self-knowledge) whether they are skeptics or cynics.
The rest of us can do little for the cynics but pray. They are the dwarfs in C.S. Lewis’s concluding volume of the Narnia books, The Last Battle. Narnia is liberated, and here is what happens:
Aslan raised his head and shook his mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarfs’ knees...They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn’t taste it properly…One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip…they raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said “Ugh! Fancy drinking dirty water out of a trough that a donkey’s been at!......”…they all said: “Well, at any rate there’s no Humbug here. We haven’t let anyone take us in..”
“You see,” said Aslan. “…Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.”
We need to heal. Our hierarchs need to earn our trust again. But we are not called to be dwarfs in a dark prison; we are called to be free men and women in the light of the Gospel. Let us continue to pray fervently for our new Metropolitan, our diocesan hierarchs and all our other church leaders, clergy and lay. We have seen God work a miracle in answer to our recent prayers. Now let us continue to ask Him for more such good gifts in the opening of missions, the healing of hearts, the ministry to the needy yet to come. For the best thanks we can give God for answered prayer is to ask Him for more, for He is a good Father who delights to give such good things to His children.
0 Comments on Fairy Tale endings and Kingdom beginnings as of 1/1/1900
Amen! This is an appropriate post for this blog, as the events of the past week and their results truly are a refreshment to the spirit of almost everyone I know who is involved in the OCA. We rejoice, and are filled with new hope for the future. Our hearts are lightened, and our hands and feet feel strengthened to set out again in conquest of the small corners of the Kingdom in each of our surroundings!
still from video posted on the Washington Post's website
It won’t be often that you see an article about a social/psychological experiment turning up as the main subject of a post on this blog. So please take it seriously when I give you the URL to a Washington Post article from 2007 at the bottom of this post. The article is called ‘Pearls before Breakfast’.
It is a long article, but believe me it is worth reading every single word. In fact the length of the article is bound up with what I at least see as the main point: that our rat race world is doing something terrible to us. It is causing us grownups to miss the beauty that children are instinctively drawn towards.
A world-class musician plays a sublime selection of music on a Stradivarius during the morning commute at a subway station. What reaction should we have expected, and what actually happened? The reporters involved could have simplistically disdained the barbarians who failed to appreciate the quality of the free concert, but there is more to it. This wasn’t just about people not recognizing a famous musician because they didn’t expect to see him there, or not caring about the quality of the music. The individual stories of the commuters of all walks of life are fascinating. And yes, it was the children who without exception were attracted to the music, heads turning as they tugged against their parents’ headlong progress to wherever they were going that seemed so important at the time. (you can listen to the full performance here)
I don’t listen to a lot of music, for what might seem like an odd reason to some. I am deeply affected by a lot of music. If I listened to more, one of two things would happen: either I would get inured to it, or I would end up a basket case. It isn’t uncommon for music to provoke me to tears. It’s less common for an article –about- music (or anything else for that matter) to have that effect on me.
Why am I classing this article as a story of Spiritual Refreshment? Partly it’s the humility of the musician, Joshua Bell, which reminds me of that same ‘getting out of the way’ I wrote about in Benjamin Bagby. Partly it’s the wonder of beauty and art that can touch something in us humans and make us aware of transcendence. And partly it’s the always-wonderful spectacle of little children showing a wisdom that the big people have forgotten.
read it here . Oh, and take the time to enjoy. (hat tip to the Facebook group for Take Back Your Time)
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oh, BTW, I discovered after that the article won the Pulitzer. Well deserved!
Anonymous said, on 11/17/2008 11:09:00 AM
Thanks, Donna , for drawing my attention to this. Read the article and listened to the concert both. Quite a comment on our modern society ... urgh! Has our society "advanced" to the point where we no longer yield any room to aesthetics and their appreciation? I most fervently hope not!
"IF MORE OF US VALUED FOOD AND CHEER AND SONG ABOVE HOARDED GOLD, IT WOULD BE A MERRIER WORLD. "
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit or There and Back Again
As we contemplate the celebration of Bilbo's (and Frodo's) birthday on Sept 22nd, corresponding with the first day of fall this year, you could hardly improve upon this quote from The Hobbit for spiritual refreshment.
The ancient practice of hospitality and gift-giving runs like a bright thread through the history of a dark world. To provide for the stranger was a sacred duty in the ancient world. And I don’t think there has ever been a culture in which food and music and giving things away were not near the center of the celebration of birthdays and other special occasions. From Anglo-saxon ring-giving to native North American potlatch, human hosts have forged bonds with their guests by serving them food and drink, then strengthend the bonds by sending them home with gifts.
One thing I especially love about hobbit birthdays is the ‘mathom’ tradition. Like many of our world’s cultures, hobbits in the Shire do not receive gifts on their birthdays, they give them away. This is a particular contrast with the solitary figure of poor Smeagol/Gollum. He speaks of the One Ring as his birthday present when he is in the cave with Bilbo; only later, in The Lord of the Rings, do we learn that this ‘present’ is not something he was given, but a precious thing he looked upon covetously and then took for himself with murderous hands.
A mathom is something handed down, passed around and given away. It is an appealing idea in our materialistically cluttered world, where we give lip service to Re-use as one of our modern three R’s. Bilbo was a wealthy hobbit and so could afford to give away the custom-made imported toys of “real dwarf make” (and you can be very sure they were ‘fair trade’. ;-) Bilbo also made sure to see that practical gifts, like tools and sacks of potatoes, were given to the poorer families in the neighborhood. But the more usual custom, in the comfortably middle-class Shire, was to recycle those unused odd whatsits and stray thingamabobs as presents, making sure that no guest went home from a party without something.
And then, when you had collected far too many of these knick-knacks, your own birthday would come around and you could de-clutter your hobbit hole by inviting a large number of guests. Don’t forget to fetch the Old Winyards out from the deepest cellar…and if perchance you have some unexpected guests, and the cakes run out, do remember your painful duty as hobbit host to go without!
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I discovered Great Big Sealate. I don’t listen to much music—I am easily distractable, and highly susceptible to earworm songs. I have a lasting love of The Chieftains, though, and some other Celtic groups. Great Big Sea is a Newfoundland group that is part of this tradition, fusing the Irish-descended Newfoundland style with rock and pop and probably lots more I know nothing about. I just know it’s good stuff, with moving tunes and lyrics that are thoughtful and relevant to contemporary life.
I can’t classify all of GBS’s work as Spiritually Refreshing. Group leader Alan Doyle, a religious studies grad, throws a lot of criticism, cynicism and borderline blasphemy our way at times; and yet many songs, like "Walk on the Moon" and "Ordinary Day" use positive religious imagery and are definitely classed as inspirational.
GBS’s latest album, Fortune’s Favour, showcases a literary theme that is dear to my heart in the number “Company of Fools”. “The Fool” is an archetype with many variants and incarnations, such as the court jester, the Joker in the card deck (and most recently in Batman: The Dark Knight); the trickster character like Brer Rabbit and other rabbit heroes like Watership Down’s El-Ahrairah; and the Holy Fool or Fool for Christ. The Fool is important because, strange and laughable as he is, he can get away with Telling the Truth.
Perhaps one of the most famous stories about the Fool is Hans Christian Andersen’s "The Emperor’s New Clothes". You know it, I’m sure—two tailors dupe a vain emperor by pretending only really clever people can see the invisible cloth they use to make his new clothes. But of course they have only been sewing air, and when the Emperor parades himself in the streets wearing these imaginary garments, it is a small boy (whom critics identify with Andersen himself) who laughs and points, crying “The Emperor has no clothes!” The boy plays the part of a jester, but the Emperor turns out to be the really foolish one...
This is what Great Big Sea is celebrating in this collaboration between Alan Doyle and Russell Crowe (yes, THAT Russell Crowe…):
Many a truest word has been spoken by the Jester
Standing against the tide
Is the noblest of gestures
It’s the little pearls of wisdom
That tumble from the light
That makes us laugh until we cry
Because we know that they are right
Within the strangest people
Truth can find the strangest home So meet me in the village
Truth. Sometimes it's dark and nasty, and sometimes the Fool puts it crudely for the shock value-- to shock the audience awake. But without Truth, there is no spiritual refreshment.
That's why -I- would 'rather spend a lifetime in the Company of Fools."
It’s not so much that Commander Sam Vimes has had greatness thrust upon him; it’s more like greatness has grabbed hold of his ankle to drag him along, kicking and screaming, to save the world.
…..oh, all right, I’m just trying to write like Terry Pratchett, and failing miserably. I’m sure better writers than I have tried and failed…if they were foolish enough to try in the first place.
The inimitable and brilliant Terry Pratchett, O.B.E.,who has “occasionally been accused of committing Literature”, is the creator of the fantasy universe of the Discworld. Having your world’s very foundations comprise a gigantic turtle swimming through space, surmounted by a quartet of elephants bearing the spinning turntable of the world on their backs, strikes the western mythological sensibilities as rather amusing; and the denizens of this fictional universe are constructed with a similar offbeatness. Yet Pratchett’s stories, for all the comedy that sparkles across their pages, have a consistent weave of dark and grim themes.
THUD! Is a murder mystery featuring the redoubtable Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch. Except the mystery turns out to be more than mere murder….
While no-one knows more about the strange and unsavory streets of Ankh-Morpork than Sam Vimes, the commander is at heart a suburbanite and solid family man. Thereby hangs a frantic and hilarious chase scene—possibly the best ever written for a pre-motorized setting—as Vimes’s men help clear the way for his commute home, lest he be late to his daily appointment with his infant firstborn, Young Sam. The appointment is for the bedtime reading of WHERE’S MY COW?
The heart of every parent in the world cries out in sympathy for Sam as he reads for the hundredth time the plot-challenged picture book with the senseless conclusion. When he dares to make his own editorial adjustments, we know that disaster will ensue….and it does, in the form of Young Sam repeating some rude language in the ears of his mother. Chastened, the elder Sam returns to the word-for-word authorized version of WHERE’S MY COW? for the remainder of the novel….even when, at the climax of THUD!, he finds himself fighting an epic underground battle.
You see, trolls and war and supernatural catastrophe and the like notwithstanding, the appointed hour for WHERE’s MY COW? arrives, and Hell Hath No Fury like Sam prevented from reading to his boy. WHERE’s MY COW?, shouted by memory as the commander hacks his way through an underground battle with the trolls, becomes an integral and mystical element in literally saving the Discworld from catastrophe.
Vis a vis the importance of foolish things, it is quite interesting to see Pratchett, who guesses he is an atheist arrive, via THUD! and WHERE’S MY COW? , if not at the same place as C.S. Lewis, at least in a nearby neighborhood.
I think of Puddleglum in The Silver Chair, defying the witch’s taunts that his and the children’s talk of Narnia is all a pretty fairy tale made up by babies. Pratchett’s outlook on the universe is indeed akin to Puddleglum’s in that in the Discworld pretty much anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Pratchett reinforces this view with the anthropomorphic language I tried to reproduce at the start of this post. And yet his characters like Vimes do not scruple to set store by such foolish things as a children’s story, and by such seemingly small commitments as reading to one’s children every day. Kiddie Lit saves the World!
P.S. I am not one of those Christian readers who is more interested in what a given writer believes about God than anything else. I find the most interesting thing about Pratchett’s recent experience of what he seems willing to believe may be supernatural is not the mere fact that he had such an experience, but his willingness to discuss it publicly. He seems not to care what other people, atheist, Christian, or other, may think of him as a result of this quite personal disclosure. That bespeaks a certain honesty and humility, reflected in his very amusing stories which in my opinion are indeed Literature of the best, spiritually refreshing sort.
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This article, sans hypertext, first appeared in an issue of Christian Vision in the early 1990s. It was one of a series I did for that publication, a Christian writers’ newsletter from Skysong Press, who still publish the Christian fiction zine Dreams and Visions.
The storyteller mounts the platform and takes up his six-stringed lyre, and with his bold shout the audience falls silent, not daring to move a muscle. "Hwaet!" he cries, "We Gar-dena in geardagum theodcyninga thrym gefrunon...."
The year is 1991, the site of performance Vancouver, British Columbia. But almost from the first words, the audience is no longer there. Benjamin Bagby has magic, and he uses it to open the door into the misty world of sixth century Denmark. For the next hour and a quarter his listeners join the Scyldings and Geats in the famous mead-hall, Heorot, while the hero Beowulf makes good his vow to destroy Grendel, the monstrous descendent of Cain whose jealousy of human happiness has goaded him to a bloodthirsty spree.
I was there. Yes, the entire performance was in Old English; the audience was given a translation of the poem, and in the brief lulls during which the storyteller re-tuned his lyre, you could hear the turning of pages. But even this did not break the spell.
No costumes, no special effects. Just a man with a voice and an instrument. Yes, he had to re-invent storytelling techniques that no longer exist-- techniques that must date back at least to the time when David soothed the demonized King Saul with his harp.
But techniques--the gentle strumming of the lyre to evoke the ocean voyage, or the heightened speech that paints for us Beowulf's heroic character-- these are only the magic runes that unlock the door to the story. Bagby's Beowulf transcends mere performance, for having unlocked the door, he does not stand on the threshold, blocking our view, but strides in confidently, drawing his listeners irresistibly after him.
I am not a performing artist, and don't know exactly how Bagby did this-- how he got himself so much out of the way that we all knew we had come there not to see Benjamin Bagby perform, but to experience Beowulf. I suspect we see few performing artists who are so successful at what they do, because most of them do not want to be actors or singers, they only want to be stars. In short, to enter the magic door needs humility.
The same applies to literary and visual artists. And here I do know a little about how to do it, or at least how not to do it. Don't let a bad sentence stand, for instance, or you'll be blocking the doorway into your story with your own laziness. Don't waste time showing off your flowing prose, if what the story requires is action; then it will be your ego that bars the entry.
It amounts to loving the story you are trying to tell, more than you love being a writer. Like Saint Francis, the artist must want only to be a channel. By all means, develop your technique; no less a genius than Hans Christian Andersen had to return to grammar school at the age of seventeen, to get the basic education without which he would never have had the tools to write the tales that are now more widely translated than any other book in the world except the Bible itself. But having learned the runes that will unlock the magic door-- having learned how to write description, how to reveal character, how to keep the narrative moving-- don't stand in the doorway admiring your accomplishments. Get out of the way, and let your readers come in.
EDIT addendum, 2008: I've watched the DVD, including the extras, and it's worth every sceatta.
Patrick O’Brian’s nautical Aubrey-Maturin books are not so much a series of novels as they are one long serial novel. In the world of these books the reader experiences a deep immersion in 19th C shipboard life and feels the strength of camaraderie and unity of purpose that marks life aboard the Surprise, Captain Jack Aubrey’s favorite ship. Surprise is a ‘happy ship’ (though some other vessels in the books are not), led by a captain who is firm, fair, highly competent and dedicated. Aubrey and his close friend, ship’s doctor Stephen Maturin, complement each other in their strengths and weaknesses.
Every buddy movie ever made is built on the principle that two diverse characters are better off working together than going their separate ways. The initial encounter of a buddy duo often makes for a humorous scene, as one or both of the pair is surprised and discomfited. In the case of Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin, the catalyst that brings them together is music, which both of them adore…but their behaviour at the concert where they meet is quite different. As the musicians at the Governor’s House play their final crescendo
“… on the little gilt chairs at least some of the audience were following the rise with an equal intensity: …two in the third row…happened to be sitting next to one another…The listener farther to the left was a man …whose big form overflowed his seat, leaving only a streak of gilt wood to be seen here and there. He was wearing his best uniform…the deep white cuff of his gold-buttoned sleeve beat the time….The high note came, the pause, the resolution; and with the resolution the sailor’s fist swept firmly down upon his knee. He leant back in his chair, extinguishing it entirely, sighed happily, and turned towards his neighbour with a smile. The words ‘Very finely played, sir, I believe’ were formed in his gullet if not quite in his mouth when he caught the cold and indeed inimical look and heard the whisper, “If you really must beat the measure, sir, let me entreat you to do so in time, and not half a beat ahead.”
But the inauspicious beginning is soon put behind them, for Jack is convivial by nature and Stephen too honest with himself not to admit the music was so fine that Jack’s rather unrefined enthusiasm was in fact justified.
The excellent film adaptation Master and Commander (drawing on events from several books in the series and not just the initial volume of the same title) captures, in particular by means of music, the essence of the multi-volume progress of the friendship between the open, bluff English ship’s captain and the intense, secretive, philosophical physician. The books of course show us in much more detail how at times their national outlooks—Stephen is Irish—and their personal agendas clash. We see them through thick and thin, battling the elements and the enemy; Stephen unable quite ever to get his sea legs, Jack at a loss on land. We see them each at their fallible worst—Stephen succumbing to laudanum addiction, Jack to marital infidelity.
But through it all, the evenings spent playing string duets and sharing meals reaffirm the surprising harmony between a pair who are very unlike. Friends and shipmates become much more than the sum of their parts, and their story is a joy to read.
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Who is so heartless as not to be won over by the most valiant character in children’s literature, perhaps in all literature?
I hope the film of Prince Caspian will do him justice, for Reepicheep the Mouse, knight of Narnia, has a thing or two to teach us all.
I’ve written about murine heroes in this blog before. They are certainly a popular staple of kidlit—besides Graham Oakley’sChurch Mice, there’s E. B. White’s Stuart Little and numerous mice in the stories of Beatrix Potter, to name only a few. Perhaps writers figure children should be able to identify with small and powerless creatures.
Lewis, however, does the rest one better. His Reepicheep is not there simply for his child readers to identify with as a little character threatened by all the larger characters around him, who can be escaped thanks to the very smallness of a mouse. Reepicheep, on the contrary, is fearless, feisty and above all truly valiant. He is a role model not only for children but for the adults those children become, and for the adults who read the Chronicles of Narnia over their children’s shoulders.
Today perhaps more than ever before, Reepicheep speaks to those who love Refreshment of Spirit, and indeed to the world. When Prince Caspian was first published, the reaction other characters (and doubtless readers too) would have toward a swashbuckling mouse was predictable: isn’t he cute?, or some variation thereof. But Reepicheep quickly proves that he is not playing at being a hero; he is a hero, first in his own heart, second in his actions, and third in the undying loyalty of his followers.
These days, Reepicheep is not just a figure of amusement to our jaded society because he appears to be a small creature trying to act big, but also because the very heroic code he lives by seems amusing to those who don’t know their own deep need for Refreshment of Spirit.
Perhaps this cynicism isn’t so new, however. Let’s remember that Queen Susan went home from the adventure of Prince Caspian to a life of bedazzlement with vanity and shallow social butterflying, and so ceased to be a Friend of Narnia. Somehow she lost touch with the depth of devotion shown by Reepicheep’s mouse troops, who promptly prepared to cut off their own tails rather than let him endure the humiliation of that maiming alone. That is the loyalty that comes to the Truly Valiant.
I never saw that movie but I might now. I loved the line you quoted. I wish we were all like that.
It's one of my favorite movies, though critically it only did so-so.
thanks for dropping by chris-- and I see you participated in NanoWriMo, way to go!
The thing that amazes me about US politics is that there is so little difference between the two main parties, yet the closer they are to each other, mthe more exaggerated the rhetoric with which their supporters attack each other.
Republican supporters attack Democrat supporters as if they will leave no baby unaborted, yet in 8 years Bush did not stop abortion. Democrat supporters attack Republican supporters as if they were intent on invading every country in the world, yet Obama still; hasn't brought US troops back from Afghanistan and Iraq.
The more closely they resemble each other, the more viciously they attack each other.