George MacDonald - Phantastes

Many years ago , a young Oxford student named CS Lewis, who was to become the author of forty books including the bestseller, Chronicles of Narnia, reluctantly purchased a novel by George MacDonald called Phantastes, a Faerie Romance at a secondhand bookshop while waiting for a train. A few hours later, he knew he was on his way out as a sound atheist towards a progressive belief in a monotheistic God. Lewis, the literary critic acknowledged his debt to the Scottish novelist, by saying that 'I had never concealed the fact that I regarded him as my master; indeed I fancy I have never written a book in which I did not quote from him" ,"Now Phantastes ... had about it a sort of cool, morning innocence ... What it actually did to me was to convert, even to baptise ... my imagination."

More than a master, CS Lewis, have been known to look upon George MacDonald, as his heavenly guide. The 19th century Scottish master storyteller can be considered a pioneer in fantasy fiction in his time. His works may have lapsed into obscurity among our present generation of readers but he has been an inspiration to writers like JRR Tolkien, Charles Williams,G.K. Chesterton and Madeleine L’Engle. The mention of fantasy in our modern times may conjure up notions of magic, witchcraft, dungeons and dragons, the good versus evil and so on. However, MacDonald's work of fantasy was of the old nature, where both the good and evil nature is intrinsic in the character of the hero of the story. Many have considered fantasy and myth as worthless stories made up as lies. But lies they are not. According to Tolkien, 'Far from being lies they were the best way, sometimes the only way, of conveying truths that would otherwise remain inexpressible. We have come from God and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God'.

When MacDonald wrote Phantastes in 1857, he described it as “a kind of fairy tale, in the hope that it will pay me better than the more evidently serious work.” It was the turning point in the literary career of the visionary novelist. The story is about the adventures of a young man, named Anodos, as he enters into an archetypal fairyland where he encounters evil spirits, horrifying creatures and also beautiful beings. Sometimes it may seem that he is wandering aimlessly in the mysterious land but there are always lessons to be learned, including some profoundly deep spiritual insights and concepts of love. He often falls prey to temptations due to pride. His vulnerability to human love continues to haunt his mind until the book's end. MacDonald stood head and shoulder above other fiction writers because he was able to convey moral teachings through a series of paradoxes - how in order to live, one must die, how treasured things must be given away in order to be found. And he did this through a beautiful, though sometimes twisted storyline filled with pathos. It's something like an 'Alice in Wonderland', written by his family friend, Lewis Caroll, but meant for grownups

The book is heavy with symbolism. This is one of the concepts which I picked up as I read through books by both CS Lewis and MacDonald over the years. By symbolism, a person tries to see something else through the senses, to find a meaning that is more real than is apparent. It is hoped that when others see the responses to natural beauty for example, through literary or artistic means, they would also recognise similar responses of their own. Here is an excerpt from Phantastes to illustrate the point:

Why are all reflections lovelier than what we call the reality?— not so grand or so strong, it may be, but always lovelier? Fair as is the gliding sloop on the shining sea, the wavering, trembling, unresting sail below is fairer still. Yea, the reflecting ocean itself, reflected in the mirror, has a wondrousness about its waters that somewhat vanishes when I turn towards itself...... In whatever way it may be accounted for, of one thing we may be sure, that this feeling is no cheat; for there is no cheating in nature and the simple unsought feelings of the soul. There must be a truth involved in it, though we may but in part lay hold of the meaning. Even the memories of past pain are beautiful; and past delights, though beheld only through clefts in the grey clouds of sorrow, are lovely as Fairy Land..... The moon, which is the lovelier memory or reflex of the down-gone sun, the joyous day seen in the faint mirror of the brooding night, had rapt me away.

The other concept, in which I am a strong advocate, is called romanticism. As Lewis explained, "It is the attempt to reach religious truths by means and techniques traditionally called romantic." It is not anything new, but a presentation of truths in modern terms. The image of the beloved is the image of divine beauty. This interplay between reality and pictured reality is closely interwoven with a certain joy, that is man' longing for eternal home.You find these themes recurring in Phantastes:

I sat long by the fire, meditating, and wondering how it would all end; and when at length, wearied with thinking, I betook myself to my own bed, it was half with a hope that, when I awoke in the morning, I should awake not only in my own room, but in my own castle also; and that I should walk, out upon my own native soil, and find that Fairy Land was, after all, only a vision of the night. The sound of the falling waters of the fountain floated me into oblivion.

The circumstances in which children are born in a certain part of the Fairy-Land are rather peculiar - more like a discovery:

Now the children, there, are not born as the children are born in worlds nearer to the sun. For they arrive no one knows how. A maiden, walking alone, hears a cry: for even there a cry is the first utterance; and searching about, she findeth, under an overhanging rock, or within a clump of bushes, or, it may be, betwixt gray stones on the side of a hill, or in any other sheltered and unexpected spot, a little child. This she taketh tenderly, and beareth home with joy, calling out, “Mother, mother”—if so be that her mother lives—“I have got a baby—I have found a child!” All the household gathers round to see;—“Where is it? What is it like? Where did you find it?” and such-like questions, abounding. And thereupon she relates the whole story of the discovery.....

As the children are nurtured and become grownups, there is another distinct peculiarity:

After they grow up, the men and women are but little together. There is this peculiar difference between them, which likewise distinguishes the women from those of the earth. The men alone have arms; the women have only wings. Resplendent wings are they, wherein they can shroud themselves from head to foot in a panoply of glistering glory.

And, again that longing for eternal home:

The sign or cause of coming death is an indescribable longing for something, they know not what, which seizes them, and drives them into solitude, consuming them within, till the body fails. When a youth and a maiden look too deep into each other’s eyes, this longing seizes and possesses them; but instead of drawing nearer to each other, they wander away, each alone, into solitary places, and die of their desire.

If the book itself (in PDF format) is about travels, then I would consider myself as a fellow traveller along with Anodos. With so many new things to discover in this strange land, wonderfilled experiences came to me as if I was walking, fighting, suffering and even rejoicing like Anodos himself. To the modern reader, this is not an action packed fantasy. book. Instead this is a phantastic book of high phantasy, where you get to read the mind of a mystical writer in his highly imaginative mood.

A Song In The Morning

I love to write reviews about the lives and works of great figures of the past. Why do I keep doing it, even though I do not even qualify myself for this undertaking? I do not want to be seen as standing on my pedestal, judging the works of people who can no longer speak for themselves. Just think of me as clearing an old pathway for your enlightenment. I believe there is a deep need in all of us to make this world a better place. One of the ways to fulfill this objective is to look at the world from the shoulders of giants. All my philosophical musings are nothing new. I am only expounding ideas set forth many aeons ago by great men and women of the past.

I half remember a vision I had not long ago about a visit to a great museum that displayed the lifestory of great artists, poets and philosophers who had lived many generations ago. Lives of people like Michaelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, George MacDonald, C S Lewis, Plato, Augustine were on display on a big, wide screen. Outside the great hall, at the entrance, were many sculptures representing the works of literary giants. One stood out among them. On the stone was inscribed the word, Phantastes by George MacDonald. I shall do a review of this extraordinary work that had colored the perception of the world around me and, as CS Lewis once said, 'baptised my imagination'.

As expected, heavy downpour has hit us again. Last night, my old clinic shoplot suffered a huge crack on the roof as water dripped down through the gaps like rainshower. We tried to contain the water. The filling of pails and containers sounded like an orchestra of broken music. A second wave of floods, particularly in Johor, has continued to grab the headlines in recent days. While there is mass evacuation, some people are refusing to leave their homes despite the rising water level. Since God's being is closely reflected in nature, how do we make sense of what is happening today? It is as if God has turned His face from us, leaving us to swim in His tears. I looked at the scenes of the flood and I pondered. As I pondered, I began to see a flicker of hope for those who have lost their properties, belongings and treasured items. That hope lies in the lifting up of the feeble head of the little girl as she wades through the subsiding deluge with her mother. That hope lies in the brief smile on the troubled countenance of the pakcik upon seeing children having fun on a boat. That hope lies in the lighting of a candle as whole townships suffer blackouts. Despite the waves of flood that will surely come again, we as a human race shall survive this ordeal.

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I would like to thank the folks at Malaysian Medical Resources for tagging me in one of their grand blogrounds. As you do your 'ward' rounds, I am glad you have not forgotten to look at things in a holistic manner.

George MacDonald: At the back of the North Wind

When God closes a door, He always opens another one. Such is the spirit of faith shown by the great 19th century Scottish writer George MacDonald as he struggled to provide for the earthly needs of his young family that threatened to envelop them in the slums of poverty while he battled against his recurring attacks of bronchitis. Perhaps through cracks in the walls of his home through which the winter "wind blew like knives", did MacDonald get the original idea of writing a book which later turned out to be his most enduring bestseller, At the back of the North Wind (ABNW).

In those days, the chief form of entertainment and information came from lectures given by the learned, in which the intellectual climate can be said to be more sophisticated and discerning. Though a popular lecturer himself, he is not able to keep up with the demands of extensive traveling due to his health - suffering from exarcebations of asthma and probably chest infections which was prevalent in those days. At the age of 32, he had already lost his mother, two brothers and a stepsister at a time when the mortality rate in the Victorian age was high due to poor living and working conditions.

ABNW probably reveals the best of MacDonald's imaginative genius as well as the simplest of storyform about the wanderings of an ill boy,named Diamond which took place in two worlds, the real world of 19th century Victorian London and the dream world where the adventures began at the back of the North Wind. It is a delightful story that appeals to children, yet can be perplexing to the young minds as in this statement by North Wind, acting on the decree from God, as she was about to cause a ship to sink:

"How can you bear it then, North Wind? For I am sure you are kind. I shall never doubt that again.", Diamond asked (as he was being carried between the bosom and the arm of North Wind).

"I will tell you how I am able to bear it, Diamond: I am always hearing, through every noise, through all the noise I am making myself even, the sound of a far-off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in which I make such a storm; but what I do hear is quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you could hear it."

There is also this most moving account at its conclusion:

I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, as white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. I saw at once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he had gone to the back of the north wind.

It is a story of two worlds being merged into one, their presence are felt immediately as if one can pass from one world into another, naturally and without warning. Witness the conversation between the child and North Wind:

"Well, please, North Wind, you are so beautiful, I am quite ready to go with you."

"You must not be ready to go with everything beautiful all at once, Diamond."

"But what's beautiful can't be bad. You're not bad, North Wind?"

"No; I'm not bad. But sometimes beautiful things grow bad by doing bad, and it takes some time for their badness to spoil their beauty. So little boys may be mistaken if they go after things because they are beautiful."

"Well, I will go with you because you are beautiful and good too."

"Ah, but there's another thing, Diamond. What if I should look ugly without being bad-- look ugly myself because I am making ugly things beautiful? What then?"

"I don't quite understand you, North Wind. You tell me what then."

"Well, I will tell you....If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the whole sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse than Mrs Bill, the blacksmith's wife--you must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change into a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold on me, for my hand will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, you will know who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can't see me the least like the North Wind. I may look something awful. Do you understand?"

"Quite well," said little Diamond.

"Come along, then," said North Wind, and disappeared behind the mountain of hay.

Diamond crept out of bed and followed her.

He kept writing until well into his 73rd year - even though his health worsened because of his tendency to develop asthma, bronchits and eczema which has also kept him from sleeping well. He said it was foolish to say that after a certain age, a man ceases to grow. As he revealed in a passage from Paul Faber, Surgeon: "A man who does not care and ceases to grow, becomes torpid, stiffens, is in a sense dead; but he who has been growing need never stop; and where growth is, there is always capability of change: growth itself is a succession of slow, ascending changes".

The popularity and the fairy element in his books continued to this day. He attracted the interest of some of the most celebrated literary critics of the 20th century including C.S. Lewis (author of Chronicles of Narnia) and J.R.R. Tolkien (The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings). C.S. Lewis commented, "What he does best is fantasy....And this, in my opinion, he does better than any man.....MacDonald is the greatest genius of this kind whom I know." Poet WH Auden said, "In his power....to project his inner life into images...., he is one of the most remarkable writers of the nineteenth century."

I loved his portrayal of the innocence of childhood, nature and the Scottish mountains, streams and fields. He had an unique approach to dreams and a tender but penetrating wisdom concerning death as can be seen in ABNW.

The legacy of his literary gift lives on, and his major works can be found in The Golden Key.