To Malacandra and Beyond!
Part of one of this male millennial's reread, and brief reflections on C.S. Lewis's Space Trilogy...
You are guilty of no evil, Ransom of Thulcandra, except a little fearfulness.
For that, the journey you go on is your pain, and perhaps your cure:
for you must be either mad or brave before it is ended.
The Oyarsa of Malacandra | Out of the Silent Planet | Chapter 18
My word, what a quote; and my word, it has been a while. A whole five months since my last post.
The reason is simple: my now 16 month-old son slept through the night less than ten times in those five months. Friends, I do not mean that he “stirred” once or twice in the night. No, no, I mean he woke up in an all-out rage multiple times a night, every night, for months. Therefore, I trust you can forgive the lull in posting (or at least not judge it). Just as I trust you’d agree pursuing the margin to read and write would have been a foolish endeavor amidst our nocturnal warfare.
Now, while I am a little upset with my son for that season of prolonged family-wide sleep deprivation, I still love him deeply of course. After all, it’s not as if he drugged me, kidnapped me, and brought me to Malacandra (Mars) against my will, in order to run an interplanetary errand he was too afraid to complete. He’s only sixteen-months old, and he lacks the strength, dexterity, and knowledge of physics. However, that is in fact, a spoiler-free plot summary of what happens to Elwin Ransom, the recipient of this article’s opening quote and protagonist of C.S. Lewis’s Out of the Silent Planet.
As always, and as implied above, I have no desire to ruin the mysteries of this wonderful work for you. In fact, I long that more people would read it and discuss it with me. So, to these ends, and in a similar fashion to my post on The Silmarillion, I will encourage you to read it by way of brief reflection on this article’s opening quote.
You are guilty of no evil, Ransom of [Earth], except a little fearfulness.
For that, the journey you go on is your pain, and perhaps your cure:
for you must be either mad or brave before it is ended.
In this short quote is summarized what might be my favorite theme in all of literature: the virtue of adventure. I find myself, each time I read it, and each time I read Out of the Silent Planet (this was my third time) convicted and inspired all at once.
And so should you.
But what do I mean by, “the virtue of adventure?” Well, central, to most (if not all) of Lewis’s fiction, certainly central to his friend JRR Tolkien’s, and honestly, central to any good fiction – moderately astute readers will find this “virtue of adventure” motif. By this, I do not mean the obvious fact that the characters go on an adventure. No, I mean the more subtle process through which the characters come to accept, and grow throughout the quest they’re on. They start in location A and make there way to location B. Additionally, more importantly, they begin their journey as person X, and become person Y.
Consider Tolkien and think of Bilbo Baggins’s – nasty little Hobbitses (read in a Gollum voice) – internal tensions. First, he abjectly rejects, then, he meaningfully considers, and finally, he begrudgingly accepts Gandalf and the dwarves invitation to the Lonely Mt. (The Hobbit). What’s more, throughout the tale, as Bilbo reflects on his various exploits, and considered every challenge he faces – whether he be confronting a dragon, or aiding his companions – Tolkien beautifully and compassionately shows his readers that despite (actually in light of) the brutal burdens Bilbo endures, to accept adventure was/is the virtuous choice.
He was trembling with fear, but his little face was set and grim. Already he was a very different hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from Bag-End long ago. He had not had a pocket-handkerchief for ages. He loosened his dagger in its sheath, tightened his belt, and went on.
The Hobbit | Chapter 12
Or contemplate the crushing weight of the decision Frodo Baggins – filthily little Hobbitses – yields to at ‘The Council of Elrond.’ To take the ring was the hard choice, the scary choice, and seemingly obvious to all, the foolish choice. But as he takes it, and every other time Frodo is faced with difficult circumstances, Tolkien subtly makes it brutally clear that to take up the cross – oops I meant quest… is your – oops I mean Frodo’s… only option.1
It is the virtuous choice.
An overwhelming longing to rest and remain at peace by Bilbo's side in Rivendell filled all his heart. At last with an effort he spoke, and wondered to hear his own words, as if some other will was using his small voice. "I will take the Ring,' he said, 'though I do not know the way."
The Lord of the Rings | Book II | Chapter 2
Don’t we know this to be true?
Deep down?
Christian or not?
God-fearing or not?
Man or woman?
Rich or poor?
Even amidst this culture of self-care-preservation-protection-promotion-pity, and every other inwardly bent impulse?
For the record, and I pray this is obvious, I am not claiming that to chose adventure is easy. Nor are Lewis and Tolkien. On the contrary I, and they, would openly admit to you that all of our hearts are drawn to self-preservation. As were Bilbo, Frodo, and Ransom’s.
I, and they, would also tell you that it’s extremely scary, and will be exceedingly difficult. As would Bilbo, Frodo, and Ransom.
Yet, I and they, would ultimately tell you – it is true.
“For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” Jesus of Nazareth.
And so did He.
If you’re a believer, but you’re feeling a lack of courage or particularly fearful these days – pray about it – but also genuinely consider reading Out of the Silent Planet, The Hobbit, and/or The Lord of the Rings. I assure you, Ransom, Bilbo, and Frodo will convict you (in a good way), and inspire you.
And if you’re not a believer, still read it. I can almost assure you, you will enjoy it. Just maybe consider that what you like about it (and what you most likely about all stories) is their connection to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
However veiled the connection may be.
Thanks for reading. I’ll be writing about Perelandra – the second book from the same series – next month. It’s an incredible book, and in anticipation of that post, I’d be honored if you would:
Tolkien purists: fret not, I am one of you. Therefore I KNOW that the Lord of the Rings IS NOT a Christian allegory. Those allusions to Christianity are my own, and do not necessarily reflect Tolkiens authorial intentions… yet at the same time… yeah they do. Sorry.