Stan Lee, Comic Fairytales, and Spirituality
I enjoy interviews with creative and artistic people, and one of the venues for this is a series called “The Directors” which appears on the Reelz Channel. Normally this series interviews film directors, but this last weekend they had a chance of pace when they interviewed comic book legend Stan Lee. The last question of the interview involved why comic books are so popular, to which Lee responded that in his view it is because they are fairytales for grown ups. He said that when we are children we enjoy fairytales, but then grow up and move beyond them. He thinks comics serve the same function as these stories, and they are so popular because they touch on various archetypes found in classic fairytales. I believe that Lee is correct, but with a few modifications. While graphic novels are becoming increasingly popular with adults, and comics are surely providing some of the best inspiration for Hollywood films, they are still largely the purvue of kids and teenagers in America, unlike in Japan where they are a popular form of adult entertainment. In addition, I’d say that comics do include archetypes, but I’d go a little further and argue that they also include myth, symbol, and folklore. On the latter element, Amanda Carson Banks and Elizabeth E. Wein have argued in an article titled “Folklore and the Comic Book: The Traditional Meets the Popular” for New Directions in Folklore 2 (January 1998) that:
“An analysis of three series published by DC Comics in the early 1990s (Swamp Thing, Sandman and Hellblazer) reveals a heavy dependence on traditional folk beliefs in the central story-lines and characterization, as well as in illustration and incidental dialogue. The writers of these series do more than merely borrow ideas from culture or one another, or employ stock motifs and themes in their narratives; they often incorporate themes from folklore and tradition wholesale and unaltered. By examining the use of traditional and contemporary folklore in these series it is possible to see not only the extent and manner to which folklore is utilized, but also how widespread certain folk vocabulary and beliefs are in the contemporary period.”
As the authors near the end of their treatment of this issue they state that, “As a genre that is at root fantasy literature, comic books are a safe and easy place for readers to explore parts of themselves and their sense of spiritualism and search for transcendence.”
From last year’s summer blockbuster, Superman Returns, to this summer’s third installment of Spider-Man, comic book heroes are bringing their pseudo-religious characters to the cinema. Religion experts and observers of pop culture say these superheroes reflect — some more overtly than others — traditional religious archetypes and values in nontraditional settings. Yet the popularity of these heroic figures endures, no matter what media they inhabit. May 25, 2007, marked 30 years since the first Star Wars movie introduced Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader and company. The series and its spinoffs have generated an estimated $20 billion in revenue, a figure that is likely to increase amid the anniversary hoopla.
Why it matters
Anyone tracking the religious currents streaming through American life cannot limit that search to institutional faith. Experts largely agree that many Americans — especially young people — who shun traditional expressions of faith are attracted to religious messages and symbols, most often in popular culture. Those symbols and messages are perhaps most overt in the superhero figures who are migrating from comic books to movies and television. Some experts see in many of the explicitly American superheroes a mixture of the patriotic and religious symbols that reveal the persistence of a “civil religion” in the United States.
It would appear that comic books provide a number of opportunities for engagement and enjoyment, from entertainment to scholarly study from a variety of perspectives and disciplines, including folklore, popular culture, and religious studies.
Star Wars Turns 30: Reflections, and Reasons for Success
I was reminded tonight through television advertisements, and through a program broadcast live from southern California, that 30 years ago today the first Star Wars film began in U.S. theaters, and several months later it was on its way to becoming an international popular culture phenomenon. I thought I’d use the occasion to touch on two areas, my own personal reflections, and a few suggestions as to why this film series has been so successful.
First, my reflections. I remember just prior to this film’s release, as a young thirteen-year-old with a strong interest in science fiction and fantasy, that my brother and I were not really interested in seeing the film. The reason was because we had seen George Lucas’s previous film THX-1138, and in our estimation, the film was awful, and therefore we did not hold out much hope for another cinematic effort by the same director. Obviously we were wrong, and after we saw the film we were hooked. The fairytale and fantasy story was wonderful, and the special effects were unlike anything we had seen before (although those in 2001: A Space Odyssey came pretty close). It’s amazing that this film became a franchise that captured the imagination of not only one generation, but now going on to incorporate others. In my own family its magic went beyond myself to include my own children, and I hope in the near future my grandson.
One last thought. As I sit here and watch a television special on the 30th anniversary two guests commented on Star Wars launching the first film franchise that made other franchises like The Matrix, The Lord of the Rings, and Spiderman possible. I can understand how they might entertain this assumption in the heat of celebration, but it is inaccurate. Actually, it was another Twentieth Century Fox film became the first science fiction film franchise. The film was The Planet of the Apes, and it launched its own franchise through multiple films, a television series and merchandising that would open the door for the future megahit in the Star Wars franchise.
It’s great to reminisce about this film, but now I feel old.
Pan’s Labyrinth: A Grand Fairy Tale and Key to the World of Wonder
When I heard late last year that film director Guillermo del Toro had created a dark fairy tale, titled Pan’s Labyrinth in its international distribution, a film which he not only directed but wrote the story for, I couldn’t wait to see it. However, this involved a problem for me. While I am a fan of such things, much of my family is not. (My youngest son will watch a few horror and science fiction movies with me, but this is not the case with my wife and daughter.) Not wanting to watch the film by myself I had to wait until the film was released on DVD. That patient waiting ended this week when I was able to rent the DVD and watch the film Tuesday night.
I have posted on this film previously, but only in making comments on how this film has resonated with many in the Neo-Pagan community, and how it draws upon myth and archetype in popular culture. In this post I’d like to provide some of my own thoughts on the film, and as I do I will interact with some of the commentary on the film on the Internet.
I begin with the only appropriate place in such an analysis, and that is with the film itself taken on its own terms as it tells its story. Pan’s Labyrinth is a story that takes place against the backdrop of fascist Spain in 1944. The movie begins much like any children’s fairy tale with the opening narration that describes a princess of the Underworld who has forgotten who she is and may reincarnate into human form. The audience is then introduced to Ofelia, a little girl with a great love for fairy tales. She and her pregnant mother are traveling to meet Vidal, their new stepfather and husband, the brutal Captain of a fascist militia. But along the way, as their travel takes a brief pause along a roadside, Ofelia discovers an ancient carving out of which comes a large insect that at first frightens her, but then quickly captures her interest. This introduction sets the stage for a parallel tale of two worlds through which Ofelia must navigate, the violent world of fascist Spain and her stepfather’s evil, and the world of fairytale involving a faun, fairies, and a mysterious labyrinth.
I won’t provide more of the storyline for those who have yet to see it, but as I watched the film I had several differing impressions. The first was a sense of marvel and wonder at the fantasy world that del Toro created for Ofeila to explore. The look and “feel” of this world reminded me of many fairy tales I have heard myself, and it resembled the best of them created in film through the years. I also felt great empathy and sympathy for Ofelia: empathy in her love for fair ytales and the unseen, and sympathy for her as she struggled to come to terms with the evil and inhumanity that surrounded her. This is a great film that can be enjoyed on any number of levels, and these demonstrate why it won three Academy Awards, although it should have received an award for del Toro’s screenplay.
Prior to viewing the film I had not ready any commentary on it, other than a few thoughts expressed on Neo-Pagan blogs. I wanted to stay away from other viewpoints until I had seen the film myself and had a chance to develop my own impressions before writing down some commentary. Having seen the film I then did some Internet research and the following represents my own thoughts in interaction with those of others.
First, it is interesting to note that the film received general positive acclaim from critics. This is a notable achievement in light of the film’s genre and that it is a Spanish film with English subtitles. Perhaps even more surprising is that the film has been well received by those from differing religious and spiritual traditions, the film receiving praise from both Neo-Pagan blogs like The Wild Hunt, and Christianity Today magazine. (Thankfully, I was only able to find one reactionary Christian perspective on the film that linked it to Satanism and pedophilia!) But the differing interpretations of the film lead to my second commentary topic.
An interesting article in the San Francisco Chronicle commented on how this film has been embraced by many from differing religions. The article states that the film “is not explicit about its images, prompting Christians, pagans and others to claim the movie as a parable about their own beliefs.” With the differing opinions surfacing as to the proper way to interpret the film, where can we turn for interpretive insights? The appropriate starting place is with the film itself, and del Toro who wrote and directed the film, before moving to subjective possibilities and applications.
National Public Radio’s Fresh Air program did an interesting interview with del Toro that sheds light on a number of facets of this film, including its interpretation(s). In the interview del Toro acknowledges that the story lends itself to multiple interpretations. A review of various media treatments of the film demonstrates two differing interpretations, with the first and most dominant one seeing Ofelia’s fairytale world as subjective escapism from the harsh realities of her life with her stepfather. Another interpretation understand the fairytale realm to be real, but that only those with a special gift like Ofelia can see and access it. The film provides for both interpretative possibilities. For example near the end of the film as Ofelia flees from her stepfather into the labyrinth, he eventually catches up with her and sees her having a dialogue with the faun, but he cannot see the faun. This might lead to the interpretation that the fairy tale only exists subjectively in the mind of Ofelia. However, just moments before this the labyrinth opens magically for Ofelia to provide a temporary means of escape that forces Captain Vidal to find another pathway to find Ofelia. This lends itself to the interpretation that Ofelia’s fantasy world is real, but that only she has the ability to see and interact with it. While both interpretations are possible, other clues in the film lend themselves to the latter being the best interpretation, such as the magical chalk door drawn by Ofelia that is visible to Mercedes. Del Toro has commented in a Twitch interview that this and other clues point toward the reality of the fantasy world.
Beyond the consideration of elements within the film it is helpful to consider del Toro’s perspective. In the NPR interview he states that “I believe her tale not to be just a reflection from the world around her, but, to me, she really turns into the princess.” These interpretive considerations are significant in that the significance and reality of an unseen fantasy and magical realm as connected with the contemporary spiritual quest in the Western world seems to be at odds with lingering skeptical views that understand such things as mere subjective escapism, a psychological projection or Noble Lie for the weak-minded who cannot deal with the harsh realities of life. Del Toro seems to disagree with such interpretations, and there are many others who would agree with him.
This leads to consideration of the best interpretation of the framework of Ofelia’s fantasy world. Is it best understood as reflecting Neo-Paganism or Christian influences? This question is important not only in light of the differing interpretations that have been put forward, but also in light of the unfortunate tendency for Christians to read Christian ideas and motifs into films. Del Toro provides the definitive answer to this question in an interview he gave to GreenCine:
GreenCine: She [Ofelia] has a pantheist view of the world.
del Toro: It’s completely pagan. She reflects nothing more and nothing less than the way I viewed the world as a kid. I was brought up Catholic but my personal cosmology was completely pagan.
Green Cine: How do you explain that?
del Toro: I have no idea, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Mexico and Spain have a certain view of life that is similar in the sense that they have death, brutality, the nature – you know, you live with them and you embrace them in a different way than First World countries would. With syncretism in Latin America, you can embrace a religion by mixing it with your own gods. And then, there’s a lot of Celtic culture in the north of Spain, and there are a lot of beautiful pagan legends in Galicia, and in Asturias and in all those places. They combine them with the Catholic religion very cleanly.
From these comments it is clear that Ofelia’s fairytale world reflects a Pagan background, and while there may be elements to the story that find common ground with Christianity, it is inappropriate to view the film as a Christian parable. These comments, along with statements made by del Toro in his NPR interview, are also interesting in that they shed light not only on the film, but also on the writer and director’s own views on fantasy and spirituality. A portion of the interview is heart-wrenching as del Toro describes growing up with a stern Catholic grandmother who saw his identification with monsters and fairy tales as somehow demonic. These experiences, coupled with his work in a morgue, the kidnapping of his father, and his reflections on the Spanish Civil War, all shaped his negative views of Catholicism and organized religion, so much so that in the interview he says he had to jettison the belief that there was an ordering Being beyond the universe and that as a result “we are all on our own.” As I listened to this interview two things struck me. First, it was a reminder of the significance of our social location and life experiences in shaping our perspectives on life, religion, and spirituality. Second, I wonder how del Toro’s grandmother might have been shaped differently had she been able to experience and embrace the “baptized imagination” of other Catholics like J. R. R. Tolkien?
Del Toro also made another set of interesting comments in the NPR interview. As he reflected on his stern Catholic upbringing he commented on “accepting Jesus into our hearts,” but also talked about his “accepting monsters into his heart” as an imaginative young boy. Del Toro discusses this in almost dichotomous fashion, wherein we accept monsters and fairy tales to explain reality as children but are then expected to jettison such beliefs in favor or religion as we get older. In del Toro’s life he eventually abandoned his Catholic beliefs in a return to monsters and fairy tales which he sees as saving his sanity, but what about those of us who don’t see this as a dichotomy and maintain both aspects of faith and spiritual vision? While I recognize that many Christians and institutions within Christendom have done some very evil things, I make a distinction between them and the teachings, example, and spiritual pathway of Jesus. For me Jesus represents a viable and vibrant spirituality for the twenty-first century. But in a sense not only have I “accepted Jesus into my heart,” I have also “accepted monsters into my heart.” By this I mean that I also maintain a sense of awe, wonder, mystery, and imagination that is symbolized by fairy tales and monsters, and this co-exists quite easily with the spiritual pathway of Jesus. Tolkien, Lewis, and others experienced the same kind of faith, so perhaps my views are not so off the beaten path, even though there may not be many Christians who balance these two elements.
Finally, I resonated with comments made by Jason Pitzl-Watters on his blog The Wild Hunt in connection with this film. He says, “I believe “Pan’s Labyrinth” presents a unique opportunity to discuss Pagan/polytheist theology in contrast to the dominant monotheisms.” I agree wholeheartedly, and I believe that given the influence of popular culture in shaping our views on life and spirituality, and the strong resonance of genres and aspects of film with various religious and spiritual communities that they can serve as bridges and forums for the discussion of important issues. Latter-day Saint cosmology has strong affinities with science fiction and fantasy, and Jason notes the affinities between Paganism and fantasy films like Pan’s Labyrinth. For these reasons I’d like to work cooperatively with like-minded representatives of various faith traditions to put together conferences on spirituality and film in order to discuss our common enjoyment of these films as well as our spiritualities.
With Pan’s Labryinth Guillermo del Toro has made a significant contribution to fantasy, fairytales, and folklore. Although some of the adults surrounding Ofelia deride fairy tales and say “You’re too old to be filling your head with such nonsense,” I hope our new century finds more adults engaging fairy tales as they embrace the imagination. Through this film del Toro has provided us with a key that opens up a new world of wonder that can begin this journey.
Christianity and Horror Redux: From Knee-Jerk Revulsion to Critical Engagement
Some of the more interesting responses I get to the inclusion of my interests in horror, science fiction, and fantasy in my Blogger profile are disgust and concern from evangelical and fundamentalist Protestants. Some have labeled such interests “macabre,” and others have wondered how someone professing a commitment to Christian spirituality could enjoy such things.
While I have touched on this in passing in previous posts, I thought I would use my participation in a “synchroblog” on Christianity and film to share a few thoughts specifically addressing this topic.
Soon after my embrace of Christianity I felt as if I had to dispose of my sci fi and fantasy memorabilia collection and move beyond my interests in these genres. After all, the conservative faith community I was involved with said this was the Christian thing to do. Only many years later did I discover other Christians who enjoyed and embraced such things, but many of us were hesitant to share such interests with other Christians.
Why do many Christians have such concerns with horror? In venturing an answer to this question I recall the comments of Bryan Stone of Boston University School of Theology in an article he wrote titled “The Sanctification of Fear: Images of the Religious in Horror Films” for The Journal of Religion and Film. In his discussion of religion as it relates to horror he wrote, “Other than pornography, horror is the film genre least amenable to religious sensibilities. It offends, disgusts, frightens, and features the profane, often in gruesome and ghastly proportions.” But after listing these reasons why many religious people take exception to horror he continues and states:
“Yet, from the earliest Faustian dramas to vampire legends and accounts of demon-possession to more recent apocalyptic nightmares, horror films have tended to rely heavily on religious themes, symbols, rituals, persons, and places. That is, of course, due (at least in part) to the fact that many of the cultural themes of horror films overlap with traditionally religious concerns (or at least Western religious concerns) such as sin and redemption, life after death, the struggle between evil and good, or the presence of the supernatural.”
But if horror provokes a negative reaction on the part of many religious people, particularly Christians of the Protestant branch of Christendom, but horror films also touch in many ways on religious concerns, how might the negative reactions be explained? I’d like to offer a few suggestions as possibilities.
First, in my opinion evangelicalism still has a long way to go in developing a largely positive interaction with aspects of popular culture, particularly film, and most notably certain genres such as horror. I think the modes of engagement still tends toward avoidance and caution rather than dialogue and critical engagement (to use some of Robert Johnston’s typology in his book reel spirituality).
Second, the horror genre, along with science fiction and fantasy, are not, in general, taken as seriously as other genres of film. Even though these genres have produced some of the highest grossing films in history (as Jaws, E.T. and Star Wars indicate), they still tend to represent marginalized genres, particularly for evangelicals.
Third, in my view Western Protestantism suffers from a lack of a sacred or sacramentalized view of the imagination as an expression of the image of God. Theologies of the fall result in a view the imagination as suspect, and the emphasis is placed on rationality rather than creativity and imagination. This leads to a lack of appreciation for genres of film that thrive in an environment of imagination and an overemphasis on negative aspects associated with the imagination to the neglect of positive considerations.
Fourth, many Christians hold to a caricature of occultism or Western esotericism, and Neo-Paganism that are then equated with horror and other cultural phenomena like Halloween or the Mexican Dia de los Muertos celebration. Little if any solid connections are made and the resulting views then become a source of folk knowledge and “common sense” thinking that is rarely questioned.
Fifth, I believe the dominant position of Christianity in the West in the past has contributed to a lack of an ability to think empathetically, objectively, and carefully about other perspectives assumed to be outside of the circle of Christendom. As Lint Hatcher stated in his interview on this blog, the attitude is “shoot first and ask questions later,” and many times no questions are asked later. The shooting is done, the “evil” target is eradicated, no questions are necessary. Thus, the eradication of perceived cultural threats such as horror, equated with the decay of culture rather than an indicator of the continuing interest in the spiritual, is fueled by the increasing marginalization of Christianity in the West.
Sixth, as a result of the equation between horror and “the occult” many Protestant evangelicals and fundamentalists hold to a simplistic and unreflective theology that boils down to little more than the practice of citing various biblical texts that touch on cultural contamination and divination (selectively cited) as evidence that Christianity and horror are not compatible. None of the texts that are cited are revisited in their original contexts, nor are they re-engaged as part of a broader theology of cultural engagement. This unfortunate situation seems to indicate that evangelicals lack theological depth in a creation theology, a pneumatolology that connects the Spirit to creation and all of life, a lack of a theology of fantasy and imagination, and a deficient thanatology.
Seventh, related to the last theological item mentioned above, I believe one of the reasons why Christians find horror so disconcerting is that they have a difficult time interacting with a genre where death and bodily mortification are major features. Perhaps this indicates a subtle form of neo-gnosticism in evangelical attitudes.
It will come as no surprise that I belive this view, while popular in evangelical circles, is problematic. As noted in the quote from Bryan Stone above, some of the major issues related to horror and religion overlap each other, and as a result, this makes horror (and the related genres of science fiction and fantasy) ideal vehicles for the exploration of religious and spiritual concerns. This was echoed by Christian filmmaker Scott Derrickson in connection with his film The Exorcism of Emily Rose. As he said in an interview for Christianity Today:
“In my opinion, the horror genre is a perfect genre for Christians to be involved with. I think the more compelling question is, Why do so many Christians find it odd that a Christian would be working in this genre? To me, this genre deals more overtly with the supernatural than any other genre, it tackles issues of good and evil more than any other genre, it distinguishes and articulates the essence of good and evil better than any other genre, and my feeling is that a lot of Christians are wary of this genre simply because it’s unpleasant. The genre is not about making you feel good, it is about making you face your fears. And in my experience, that’s something that a lot of Christians don’t want to do.”
Rather than sounding alarm bells over Christian involvement in horror I’d like to see evangelicals calling for more Christian involvement in this arena, along with science fiction and fantasy. It’s been a long dry spell since C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien penned their tales of the fantastic. We need others working in these genres, new “theological-imagineers,” if you will. It would seem especially needful in light of the thinking of scholars like Christopher Partridge who argue that popular culture now serves as a religious “text” for many, and religious and spiritual ideas frequently surface in film, particularly in horror, sci fi, and fantasy, and such pop cultural artifacts are quickly consumed by a growing “occulture” in the Western world.
It’s time for Christians engaging this segment of popular culture to move beyond knee-jerk revulsion and into critical engagement.
Tagged with Thinking Blogger Award
Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever reads this blog, or whether those that do find it helpful. At least someone besides myself! And then I discovered a flattering comment on another blog referencing TheoFantastique.
Lint Hatcher Interview: Wonder, Mystery, and Spookiness
Lint Hatcher was one of the creative forces behind the now defunct (unfortunately) Wonder magazine. He has his own blog, Excuse Me, Ghidorah?, where he writes on topics near and dear to TheoFantastique. He is also the author of a number of great articles, and the book The Magic Eightball Test: A Christian Defense of Haloween and All Things Spooky. I would describe Lint as a lot like me, an adult around the same age but in many ways a wide-eyed adolescent who refused to grow up while holding on to a strong sense of fantasy and wonder about the world. Lint will be sharing some of this wonder, coupled with his insightful analysis related to popular culture at Cornerstone Festival at the Imaginarium this year. Lint has graciously taken some time to share some of his thoughts with us here.
TheoFantastique: Lint, you discuss this somewhat in your book on Halloween, but what kinds of experiences and influences did you have growing up that helped shape your views on fantasy, science fiction, and horror?
I also like our Wonder History of Miniature Golf and our review of the Dinosaur Land roadside attraction. Also, the mega review of Mystery Science Theater 3000 was fun, since there was quite a controversy among the Wonder staff as to the merits and demerits of the show. I got a call from Joel Hodgson a couple of months after the issue came out and would loved to have interviewed him — he said he understood what we were trying to do and sounded pretty positive about it — but the magazine had bit the dust by then.
TF: In your book you not only talk about the great joy have experience in the celebration of Halloween, but the book is devoted to defending a Christian’s participation in it as if there were a conflict with the faith. Why do you think some conservative Christians see this as a problematic holiday?
There is, of course, also the kneejerk assumption that spookiness and occultism are one and the same thing. They are not. There is a spooky aesthetic which is built into the Creation. Nighttime is mysterious. Goofy, strange night creatures like bats and frogs and cats have a very different vibe than collies and bunnies and flamingos. I can’t imagine that vibe is only a result of the fall of mankind. Night existed prior to the fall. Are we going to say that bats, frogs and black cats had a flamingo vibe going prior to our fall from grace?
I understand a terrible transformation took place throughout the entire chain of being; the natural world became a mixture of thorns and thistles, tooth and claw. Death entered the picture and became associated with the night. However, before I agree that the spooky aesthetic has something to do with death and spirits separated from their bodies by death, I think it is necessary to insist that mystery existed before all this. Night was connected to mystery before it was connected with death. The night sky full of stars and a glowing moon was not, even prior to the fall, the same thing as a blue sky full of clouds and sunshine. The strange romantic appeal of nighttime is eternal. As they say, “Black is always in style.”
That said, death did enter the picture — along with ghoulies and goblins and long-legged beasties. Skulls seemed to grin. Graveyards became evocative in ways quite different from a plowed field or the gate to the city. But not all of this was negative. Death was horrific, but, at the same time, it could be noble, even beautiful. It’s an odd concept, but we see it every single year when Autumn comes round. This is arguably the most beautiful season and yet its beauty spreads across the land precisely because winter is coming and nature, in a sense, is dying. Anyone who fails to see the poetry in Autumn has taken the inhuman route and will have no problem telling some little kid that he shouldn’t dress up as Frankenstein because Frankenstein is made up of corpse parts all sewn together. If the kid says, “What about Frankenberry and Count Chocula?,” it won’t make any difference.
Now, occultism is also plainly tied into mystery. And so occultists also have an affinity for that spooky aesthetic. But it does not follow, therefore, that occultism is the origin and driving factor of the spooky aesthetic. If that were true, then little pink pigs would appear spooky if only they were included in some sort of occult practice. Anything associated with occultism would naturally become spooky, right? And so, eventually, our Halloween decorations would include the black cat, the furry spider, and the spectral pink pig. The fact is, the spooky aesthetic predates occultism and has to do with mystery. The occultist, therefore, rather enjoys black cats, crows, and purple drapery. But he probably also enjoys the atmosphere in the big cathedral downtown — with its great silences, its candles, its Gothic proportions — even if he has no intention of staying for mass.
TF: Last year’s Imaginarium at the Cornerstone Festival generated a lot of controversy on the blogosphere and Internet due to the engagement with cultures and their festivals associated with death. Were you surprised by this negative reaction?
TF: What did you learn as a result of the controversy? Have you had a chance to do any further reflecting and writing on this?
Lint Hatcher: Well, what I mentioned above about gnosticism and symbol and ritual has been on my mind.
In effect, he switched from chemistry to philosophy in an effort to understand how such things can happen. He came to very Schaefferian conclusions — basically, that ideas are very powerful and none are more powerful than presuppositions.
The great “given” of his time (and our own, I suppose) was scientism or rationalism: the belief that knowledge gathered through scientific methods is the only valid, trustworthy form of knowledge. Anything that did not fit this criterion belonged to the world of superstition, religion, intuition, and so on, and was not worth the time of day. Polanyi became convinced this was a fatal error. Knowledge depends also on the tacit dimension, that is, the information which comes to us in ways that cannot be codified.
He points to the example of a man driving a nail with a hammer. The tacit cooperation of many different factors is necessary to accomplish the goal — from various muscles to eye contact to measurement of force to the setting aside of extraneous sounds and other distractions. All of this must work together in one smooth effort.
If the man focuses on any one of these contributing factors exclusively then the whole thing falls apart. If he focuses on the hammer, or his elbow, or his thumb and forefinger holding the nail, he is liable to whack his thumb. Polanyi calls the integration of these factors “indwelling” — our awareness of individual factors moves into the background and the overall purpose and meaning of what we are doing becomes the focus. Polanyi calls the object of this focus the “comprehensive entity”. The recognition of the comprehensive entity is true knowledge.
This isn’t New Age stuff, but rather commonplace. When we listen to someone talk, we automatically integrate a series of sounds, facial expressions, and hand gestures into a meaningful whole. If you sat there and mapped out each little sound apart from its role as a syllable in a word, the meaning disappears. Polanyi claims that this — the disappearance of meaning — is what happens when we insist scientific method is the only reliable source of knowledge. We focus on one aspect of knowledge gathering and, as a result, the comprehensive entity escapes us.
I am wondering if this can be applied to what I regard as the “inhuman” in fanaticism. My experience is with Christian fundamentalism, but I am not saying fundamentalists are inhuman! God forbid. Rather their gnostic, anti-sacramental convictions send them down a series of logical next steps which seem to my mind increasingly inhuman. The result is a systematic demonizing of natural cultural expressions. The use of symbol and ritual is simply, basically human. Is it pagan? Well, to the extent that pagans are human, I suppose so. But it does not follow that all use of symbol and ritual is pagan.
At any rate, I am wondering whether the Christian fundamentalist has fastened on particular ingredients in religious knowledge to the exclusion of other parts — with the result that the “comprehensive entity” escapes them. They didn’t “get” what we were doing at the Imaginarium in 2006. Instead, they focused on isolated moments of what they perceived as heresy. They took things out of context precisely because they didn’t “get” the context. So you have people freaking out that one speaker mentioned a few Catholic saints are supposed to have flown miraculously. He used the word “levitation” and the Fundies associated this with occultism. But the plain sense of the thing is that he was talking about flying. Feet leaving the ground. I just don’t see the Enemy saying, “Only I can cause that flying miracle thing. So every instance of flying is demonic, regardless of the apparent holiness of the Aloftee.”
Anyhow, is there some aspect of Christian belief or knowledge on which the Fundies have fastened to the exclusion of the other parts of the whole, so that the comprehensive entity is lost while they remain quite sure of the rightness of their cause? It sounds like an invitation for theological liberals to look down on “those poor misguided literalists,” but that is not what I mean. The isolated focal points may be essential. Biblical inerrancy, the divinity of Christ, the reality of original sin, the historicity of the miracles of Christ are all very important. Scientific method is important. But there is a Big Picture we miss when we emphasize one to the exclusion of the others.
I think that’s my next book. Although, it sounds a little too pat the way I expressed it above.
imagination. Would you agree with this assessment, and if so, why do you think this is?
I suppose, in a way, it’s unavoidable. If you don’t have your own rich culture of symbols, you have to make do with what’s available. But secular culture is all about the marketplace and a kind of commodified version of reality that presents everything with a slick, shopper friendly gloss. It’s designed to de-emphasize challenging content — anything that might interrupt the shopper’s thrill of discovery and immediate identification with the sort of fulfilled lifestyle the item seems to promise.
Adapting this sort of milieu to Evangelical culture is downright creepy. It’s Christian Consumer Kitsch. And, the thing is, you don’t have to go that direction. Genuine Christian culture exists. It is rich and authentic and beautiful and resonant and, at times, rather spooky and, at times, rather demanding. If we can get past the important role played by “dead white males” and rediscover the glories of Christendom — while at the same time offering a mea culpa with Pope John Paul II for the sins of Christendom — we might see the birth in Protestantism of the sort of natural folk culture that permeates life in predominantly Catholic countries like Mexico.
That, I believe, is the natural flow of cultural life from “the deposit of the faith”. I believe, also, that it would resonate with a natural immediacy in many Protestant hearts — exactly as the Famous Monsters subculture resonated with us. Effortless, fluid, delighted interaction with the symbols. For some of us, though, the opportunity to see the symbols of Christian tradition with new eyes has passed. Often, when I look at the statues, the crucifix, the stained glass windows in our beautiful parish church I know for a fact that as a kid I would immediately have identified with these things and felt that resonant note of “I’m home!” It would have been a delightful, enthusiastic loyalty sort of thing. As a former Evangelical who is in many ways still an Evangelical, however, it is difficult to participate. There is a constant veneer of self-awareness. Except when Halloween and Christmas roll around!
TF: The Sci Fi Channel ran a program that noted the strong influence of aspects of sci fi, horror, and fantasy on the lives of young adolescent boys from the 1950s through the 1970s. I was caught up on this and its influence is still felt today (obviously), and I know you were too. Any thoughts as to why this might be? What did so many find appealing and what might this say to the needs of the present generation for fantasy and wonder?
Lint Hatcher: Like I said, those symbols effortlessly and fluidly came to life in our monster fan hearts and minds. I think the same feeling of delight and participation happens for some people when they see a Gothic cathedral or a cheap little milagro trinket or a Sacred Heart painting. The monster culture of the Sixties and Seventies played that role for us — it filled the gaping hole created by gnostic iconoclasm. Having said that, however, I don’t have to proceed to dump the monster stuff. Or, God forbid, over-intellectualize it. I might as well enjoy the monsteriffic films and books which actually bring the Permanent Things to life for me. And pray for the day when the religious equivalent — the goofy, folksy spookiness of Dia de los Muertos, for example — is a natural part of how Protestants (and Catholic Evangelicals like myself) express their faith. Instead of, say, t-shirts that say “got God?” or “This Blood’s for you.”
TF: Lint, thanks so much for sharing your thoughts. I’m looking forward to your presentations this year at Cornerstone, and your writing in the future.
The Body and Horror
With my graduate studies drawing to a close I have finally had some time to expand my reading list, and one of the areas I have been exploring is religion and film, primarily as it relates to horror, science fiction, and fantasy. As part of my reading I have a stack of articles from The Journal of Religion and Film, one of them by Bryan Stone of Boston University School of Theology, an article titled “The Sanctification of Fear: Images of the Religious in Horror Films.” I will be posting later this month on the topic of Christian sensibilities and horror as part of a “synchroblog” effort with fellow bloggers and will draw upon this article again at that time, but one aspect was interesting and worth commenting on now. In the article Stone comments on various types of horror, and one facet is “body horror,” which obviously refers to the body and how it is treated as a major facet of films in this category. Writing on the shift from Gothic horror with its connections to a Judeo-Christian vision, Stone writes,
Planet of the Apes and Social Dynamics
I am preparing for a “Faith and Film” course I will be co-teaching for Salt Lake Theological Seminary this summer, and one of the films I will be using is The Planet of the Apes (1968). I am reviewing various materials connected with it, and one of the resources I looked at again recently was the two-disc collector’s edition which has special features including various commentary by those associated with the film. I was intrigued by one of the comments made by Charleton Heston as he recalled how the actors would behave between takes and during lunch while their makeup was still in place. He recalls that those playing chimpanzees would gather together, as would the orangutans and gorillas. Heston concludes his remarks by saying something to the effect that “I don’t know why that happened, but it did.”
Imaginarium 2007 Pop Culture Analysis
My friends at Cornerstone Festival have put together another great fest program for this year. While I will be speaking in the cstoneXchange venue, I will not only be speaking and listening to other great presentations there, but also dividing my time in the Imaginarium venue. A great collection of speakers have been pulled together, as well as a nice group of films. Just a few of the seminars I am especially looking forward to include one on Japanes popular culture, fear of the social other as articulated in 1950s science fiction films, and a discussion of Romero’s zombie films.
Halloween in April: Rocky Point Haunted House Finale
Growing up in northern California I had a difficult time finding events and attractions associated with the Halloween holiday. Things were especially difficult in my home town of Stockton, but they got a little better when I moved to the Sacramento area as I entered military service and was stationed at Mather Air Force Base. Years later I decided to relocate to Utah for two years of seminary studies, and in the back of my mind I thought what little ability I had to enjoy Halloween and all things spooky would disappear like so much ectoplasm. After all, I thought, Utah is largely Mormon, and as such it is a very conservative culture. There’s now way that Halloween will be enjoyed in that state. Or so I thought.
