Friday, January 31, 2014

Phantastes As a Whole

        So we have come to the end of our journey with "Phantastes." I personally enjoyed the book very much and even have become more curious about more of MacDonald's work in the near future. My overall opinion and outlook on MacDonald's book, I feel like it has been just one big metaphor for the journey ones soul takes and the ever-long search for its beauty and place in the world. 
          For myself, reading this piece of work has meant so much more than I thought it would from the start. You see, I am not someone who has an easy understanding with deep and intellectual meanings behind a story like this. I can very easily say that I usually just take a book for what it is without putting much though into it. This book and this class for me has made all the difference and has changed completely my original mindset as a reader.
         To better help explain myself I'll give you my greatest example of what I mean. For instance, I would have never done real research on an author in my past experience with reading a book for a class. I would usually just do my work and then be done with it. In this case I became very curious about the author and went into reading about his life and so on. Well to go off topic a moment, I noticed from an early point that MacDonald's way of portraying women was very strange and for some reason most of the women seem to have this inner beast within them that gets unleashed if you become to close.
          Now back on my original topic of MacDonald's life, I read that he was supposedly happily married and even had eleven children. I cam to find that MacDonald did not start writing his novels until he had been way into his marriage of many many years. It is told that his wife always accompanied him on lecture tours and was always with him in general. After thinking this over my theory of his reasoning to make women have this harsh underlying nature, is that maybe after years upon years of marriage he grows somewhat secretly annoyed and grown a little tolerance for his wife.
           This is really all just in theory but it was something that came to my head when reading. I just feel as if there is always some sort of reason one writes the way they do or about things in the manner they do.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

An Addition to the Fantasy Formula

By reading Phantastes by George MacDonald and reflecting on my previous Fantasy readings, I believe there may be an additional factor in the formula of Fantasy that we (to my knowledge) have not discussed. This factor is defiance

When Anodos is faced with obvious warnings/commands along his journey, he takes them into account but eventually defies them. Common sense seems to dissipate when confronted with beauty, curiosity, etc (all of these leading to danger). Chapter three finds Anodos alongside his host. This is his first encounter with a human (or human-like) creature in this foreign, fantastical land. The woman warns of the night-prowling trees and to stay until morning, "... it might be better to stay all night, than risk the dangers of the wood then" (15). However, Anodos seems set on his own path, though he does not have the same native wisdom she holds, "... I wish to see all that is to be seen, and therefore I should like to start just at sundown" (15). Her warning is shot down, and he takes off. This happens in countless other circumstances later on in the novel as well (often frustrating me to the point of exhaustion).


For alternate examples, we can also look to The Chronicles of Narnia series (the Pevensie children, specifically Edmund in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe) and the Lord of the Rings (Frodo against Gandalf, Peregrin against Gandalf, Arwin and Éowyn against their fathers, etc).


Is this theme a necessary factor to Fantasy? How does it add to the overall characterization and development of plot?


(I'm ending the post here. Though, I could start exploring these questions).

Situating the Narrator in George MacDonald’s "Phantastes"

         One of my favorite things about approaching a text is getting to know its narrator. In Phantastes, Anodos the narrator looks back on his time in Fairy Land and attempts to tell his own story. Part of what makes him so interesting as a narrator is his inability to describe or explain some of his experiences, especially his various (and sometimes annoying) impulses. What are we as readers supposed to do with phenomena that the narrator cannot adequately communicate? Can we fully believe and trust him? How are we supposed to fill these gaps? Even in the very end, Anodos is left with “questions [he] cannot yet answer” (MacDonald 184). Perhaps this makes it easier for the reader to sympathize; if he was able to figure it all out until he knew and understood everything, he might not be nearly as interesting or relatable. Fairy Land certainly wouldn’t be as interesting. It’s not much of a second world if the primary world can make sense of it so easily.
         We again question the narrator when he tells the story of Cosmo. Anodos has a hard enough time telling his own story, so we have to question how he can tell Cosmo’s. This raises an interesting question of accuracy. How do we know if the narrator is “right”? And does it matter? Does the chance that the narrator could be wrong nullify a narrative’s relevance or meaning? I want to say no, but I don’t know how to grapple with the question of accuracy or if that’s even the right questions to ask. I’m interested to see if third-person narrators will make me raise these same questions.
         Through the narrator, MacDonald hits on something quite profound at the end of Cosmo’s story. The narrator says, “And now I will say no more about these wondrous volumes; though I could tell many a tale out of them...” (MacDonald). Notice that he does not finish the story; the story went on, regardless of Anodos’s telling it or our reading it. There is no precise end in the “Web of Story,” only “verbal ending[s]” or “margins” as Tolkien says in “On Fairy-Stories” (Tolkien 398-9). Compare this to the end of the novel. Anodos looks to the future, the continuation of his own narrative, having faith that good will come to him. Then he bids the reader farewell. It’s not his story that has ended but our invitation to witness it. We see from these examples how the narrator limits our knowledge not only because of what he can't tell us, but also because of what he chooses not to tell us.


The Shadow: Depression?

One part of the reading that struck out to me was Anodos’ shadow could actually be a representation of depression. As someone who previously suffered from bouts of depression the story of it leading up to him going on the boat reminds me of how depression works. It comes on suddenly and stays sometimes coming over others you become close to because of how it affects you. He often refers to his shadow as his “evil demon” which often times do we not refer to our hard times and depression as a demon, and how we struggle with them?
How people react to his shadow also reminds me a lot of how others react to knowing that someone who has depression. Like with the villagers who at first were very welcoming then upon seeing his shadow shunned him and many denied him a simple pleasure of food or drink, he would also often get teased. This actually happens when you first meet people and you have depression, they seem so welcoming because you often distance yourself from people. However, once they get closer they realize there is something wrong with how you respond to life and then almost reject you a good majority of the time.
Also the shadow would envelope people who Anodos would get close to, like with Sir Percival and the little girl with the musical orb. He would spend time with them while traveling a few days at a time, once they would form an affection for each other the shadow would attempt to “attack” them or cover them with his darkness. This also happens sometimes with people who are close to those with depression, it can stretch and “cover” those who are normally mentally healthy and affect them with a sadness as well.

When on a journey of any kind of self discovery or growth a person can go through many kinds of emotion especially depression because it is hard to change yourself or grow beyond how a person is currently. Anodos has just had his birthday and now is learning to grow and be an adult by filling in the place his father left off. This shadow I think is a good representation of moving beyond hard emotions that come with self growth.

Women in Phantastes

    While reading George MacDonald's Phantastes the thing that stuck out to me as the most interesting was his depiction of women.  Throughout the story women served not only as guiding lights and comforting mothers but also as beautiful dangers to distract Anodos along his journey through Fairy Land. (I also found it intriguing that there were so many more female characters than male even though they have minor roles comparatively.)
     Take for instance the Maiden of the Alder tree that is eventually described as "...A strange horrible object. it looked like an open coffin set up on one end; only that the part for the head and neck was defined for the head and shoulder part...as if made from decaying bark torn from a tree." and her counterpart in the lady of the beech tree which he said had "a very lovely face" and,"above the human scale but not greatly." As we mentioned in class women were often placed on pedestals and treated as near perfect angels, however I'm curious as to how this view of women during that time period factors into the "darker" ladies in MacDonald's writings.      

Andonos and Cosmo

Upon my first reading of A Midsummer Night's Dream, I have gained an insatiable appreciation for the "Story Within a Story." For me, the most exciting use of this inclusion is when the mini-narrative holds some great significance to the whole of the text.

In Phantastes, the tiny tale of Cosmo von Wehrstahl, found in a book in the library of the fairy palace, bears resemblance to that of the journey of the protagonist who reads it.

Andonos reads the story of Cosmo around the half-way point of his odyssey through Fairy Land. In many ways, it functions as foreshadowing, or a guide, to what is to come as the traveler proceeds. The story of Cosmos is a road map; a mirror in which Andonos may soon, if he follows the proper course, see himself.

For starters, the names of the respective main characters garner a second look. The name "Andonos" means "without a road," which is a very apt title for the character, considering his ever-changing path as he ambles through Fairy Land. The name "Cosmo," on the other hand, signifies order, harmony, and beauty. Though there are glimpses of these traits in Andonos's journey, it cannot be said that his tumultuous and perilous encounters fall under these words.

In the tale Andonos reads, Cosmo puts aside devotion to his own gain in order to die in the act of rescuing his love. In the old tradition of St. Cosmo, he fittingly dies a martyr. In the same way, Andonos ends up a martyr in, one could say, two different ways. For one, he learns the value of humility and rejects his pride when he loses his evil Shadow. In that way, he dies to himself, and is able to perceive people, and all of Fairy Land, through a much clearer lens. Secondly, his exportation from Fairy Land back to "reality" is brought on by his literal martyrdom in destroying the wooden idol.

These are but a few parallels between the stories of Andonos and Cosmo. Perhaps, in his acts of martyrdom, Andonos would have earned a name akin to "Cosmo," finding much deeper balance and harmony.

From a Christian perspective, perhaps MacDonald, by naming the character who first demonstrates martyrdom in the story Cosmo, is commenting on the fact that the stuff of the universe (the vast cosmos) isn't made up of acts of selfish personal gain or conquests, but of small but powerful acts of sacrifice.


Awe and Wonder


"To be inspired is the ultimate antidote to existential despair."

- Jason Silva 

To start off, this week in my reading of Phantastes I was inspired. Now admittedly, I found this book slightly difficult to read not because of its stylistic differences to modern literature, but rather because of its seemingly random events woven throughout the story.  My mind is such that I try to make order out of everything, every little minute detail, every mundane occurrence. I feel that this book is written in such a way that these random occurrences serve to help deepen the mystery of the secondary world being constructed in the minds of its readers. Early on I had to come to this realization and then appropriate my mind in the way I read this book.  Once I was able to recognize this, I quickly adapted and was able to fully enjoy the reading. 

I believe that my experience in reading Phantastes has given me a very valuable life lesson. 

Why must I search for the meaning in something? Why do I press forward trying to find some intricate detail in beautiful things?  Sometimes things happen simply because they must. Other times things happen because God has ordained it and it may not be for me to understand in that moment.  

To quote Macdonald:
"it is no use trying to account for things in Fairy Land; and one who travels there soon learns to forget the very idea of doing so, and takes everything as it comes; like a child, who, being in a chronic condition of wonder, is surprised at nothing." 

I think that for some people, possibly, they are at a place in their lives where they must persevere to find meaning in the things that they stumble across.  But I think for me, right now, I am in a period of life where I've lost that inborn quality of wonder. I look around and see things so very black and white. Amazing prospects that I am faced with seem so terribly monotonous.  It's almost as if the harsh reality of existence and seemingly constant unfulfillment has dulled my senses to the vivid architecture of being.  I believe that this is what happens to adults who turn their minds from the wonderful qualities of the fantastic.  Perhaps they have become complacent in their attempts to find that misplaced quality of wonder and awe. Or possibly it's just that the realities of this world has them tired and beaten. Whatever the case, I think that we must never give up on searching for and keeping that inward sense of awe and wonder that God has so obviously created in us.  



A Story Within a Story

As the first official fantasy novel, "Phantastes" sets the precedent for the genre. I can see the parallels and how later authors evolved the story into their own creations (i.e. Lord of the Rings and Chronicles of Narnia). Yet, what I find most interesting is the story within a story concept. Somehow this ingenuity was able to communicate the epitome of a reader's experience with the fantastic.

When Anodos begins reading this story in the library, he initiates with how a reader connects with a protagonist. It is almost like a talented author is a hypnotist, who counts down slowly form ten, and convinces you that the protagonist is you and you him. It was an ingenious choice to use a mirror for this point. Cosmo's sacrifice to set free his lover is also a metaphor of the reader sacrificing their identity to let loose the character trapped within the book's pages. I would also say that a mirror symbolizes the reflection of the protagonist on the reader. I feel Anodos's (adventurous impulsive) character reflect on my own personality and I see his decisions as mine.

As Anodos sits in the incredible faerie library, he opens the story of Cosmo and delves in. After coming to the end, Anodos makes this statement, which captures a reader's feelings: "And I trust I have carried away in my soul some of the exhalations of their undying leaves. In after hours of deserved or needful sorrow, portions of what I read there have often come to me again, with an unexpected comforting, which was not fruitless, even though the comfort might seem in itself groundless and vain," (MacDonald 105). This quote resonates with me, especially in fantasy literature. Many people view it as a waste of time or childish even, but I agree with Anodos (or MacDonald) here. In fantasy you can be swept away to another world,feeling and sensing it better than your own. If you make yourself vulnerable in this other world, you allow the sorrows of the characters make an imprint on your soul.

Fairy Music

Throughout MacDonald's Phantastes, there are many references to music. At some points when music is mentioned, it is merely a metaphor to describe something else. At other times, however, music is a significant changer of events. The end of the novel is a good example of this: it is the voice of a young lady that saves Anodos from the tower in which he has been imprisoned.

After Anodos has been in Fairy Land for some time, he comes upon the encasing of whom he believes is the marble lady. He thinks of the ways in which he can save her -- first of kissing her, and then of singing to her. The kiss he tries first but to no avail. "Might not a song awake this form...?" (MacDonald 37) he asks himself. "Sweet sounds" he concludes, "can go where kisses may not enter" (37). Singing, he finds, does gradually work to awaken the lady.

Anodos tells the reader that has never been gifted with song. In Fairy Land, however, he finds that he can sing -- and sing very well. The "marble lady" that he awoke flees, but he is able to find her by singing. Again, in his palace, Anodos is haunted by the echoes of music and seeks to find its source. The marble lady is drawn to his singing.

From these examples alone, it is easy to see that MacDonald incorporation of music in the fantastical land of Fairy was intentional and even necessary. Music is in close relation to beauty, which is also very important to this novel. Beauty is in nature, in women, in dreams, and in music. All of these sources of beauty, however, can also be used for evil purposes. Nature can be terrible -- look to the Ash-tree. Women can be corrupt -- look to the marble lady or the ogre. Dreams can be frightening -- look to the nightmares in the forest. Music, too, can be deleterious -- look to the consequences of Anodos' songs.

MacDonald used music as another expression of beauty. And beauty, as the story will prove, may be misleading. "How can beauty and ugliness dwell so near?" (48) Anodos asks himself after his encounter with the transformed marble-lady. It is the question that follows all who enter Fairy Land. It must be reckoned with. Beauty, in whatever form it comes in, may be deceitful to the perceiver.

Reflections on MacDonald's "Fantastic Imagination"



“Inharmonious, unconsorting ideas will come to a man, but if he try to use one of such, his work will grow dull, and he will drop it from mere lack of interest. Law is the soil in which alone beauty will grow; beauty is the only stuff in which Truth can be clothed; and you may, if you will, call Imagination the tailor that cuts her garments to fit her”—George MacDonald, Fantastic Imagination

George MacDonald uses the realm of fantasy to show that human beings are locked in the cage of God’s Law, if you will, the reason of the world, God’s Reason. But his religious comparisons seem to break down into a desire to fight the contentions of reason or the author’s intended truth.

In one place MacDonald suggests that beauty is dependent upon truth to exist but later retorts that another’s meaning of a text may be higher than what an author intended.

This might be sloppy thinking or connecting on his part, but it would seem more reasonable and perhaps more academic to conclude that what MacDonald desires is to get people off the train of needing to extract explicit meaning from everything written and fantastic.

“If I cannot draw a horse, I will not write THIS IS A HORSE under what I foolishly meant for one. Any key to a work of imagination would be nearly, if not quite, as absurd. The tale is there not to hide, but to show: if it show nothing at your window, do not open your door to it; leave it out in the cold.”  

In addition he gives power back to the reader, enlisting them into the conversation of producing textual meaning.


The Magic of a Book

    As we read Phantastes by George MacDonald I must admit that the most wonderful part to me was the library at the Faerie Palace. I have been an avid reader ever since I have learned to discern the symbols in writing or in type, printed on a page for my delight.  Being among a great group of people I have learned that many of us, when fully immersed in a book, begin to see that world in which our mind travels to via black ink.
   When I first read that he was transported into the books he was reading I was thrilled and could relate.  The experience was undoubtedly one that could not be fully relayed, as Anodos himself said: "I must make a vain attempt to describe".  I have found in talking to others that do not have the same proclivity to reading as I do, that they do not delve into another land when they read.  This, of course, is rather depressing to me. 
   That point aside I question how is it that we could teach the future generations to activate their imaginations in such a way that they too can lose themselves into a story and become the main character, learning what the character learns, not just intellectually but spiritually and emotionally as well?  Would a steady training in fantasy stories be the best solution for this as they would have to learn to form pictures in their mind and associate sounds, smells, sights, tastes, and touch to what can be found in this world (we are surely able to find trees if only we peer out of a window) but also will challenge them to conjure things that they are not of our natural world (alas I have yet to meet a dragon or, more importantly, a handsome elf)?
   The Faerie palace's library may be fiction, but the ability to picture other worlds is possible with most avid readers.  As society battles with illiteracy I think it would be wonderful to make popular this library of adventure and learning.  Perhaps we could impart that same love for reading that MacDonald had to our new generations.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Inspirations from Phantastes

    While reading Phantastes, I started to see definite similarities between that of McDonald’s work and those of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Seeing as McDonald was one of the first writers of fantasy literature, it isn't a shock that he was such an inspiration to these authors.
    Some obvious similarities are in C.S. Lewis’s Narnia series. The portal to another world through the wardrobe is akin to the way that Anodos is transported to Fairy Land. When Anodos returns home, he finds that time had moved slower than he had thought while he was inside the strange world he had visited. In Narnia, is very such the same. The children are inside Narnia for years while time has stood still in their world.
    In Tolkien’s the Lord of the Rings, there are several of times where trees are both dangerous and helpful to the heroes much like those in Phantastes. The tree, Old Man Willow, tried to kill the Hobbits for being in the forest right outside of the Shire on their way to Bree. It is also mentioned that there had been a time where the trees had attacked the Shire and they had to fight them off with fire. In Phantastes, the Ash and Alder tree want to destroy Anodos much like Old Man Willow. But trees are also portrayed as being good. The spirit of the Beech tree protects Anodos, the same is true of the Ents who are actually very helpful and protective of the heroes.

    It’s hard to imagine Narnia and Lord of the Rings without these elements, and it was very interesting to see where the author’s ideas might have sprung from.

Phantastes and Stuff

For a starter, with this book, I'm still not sure if I liked reading it at the pace we did.  It can be exquisitely beautiful, and painfully slow, and occasionally dull, and overly moralizing. But I can say that from time to time I was caught by MacDonald’s enchantment, by his underlying concept that we can build a land of Faerie in our minds, and travel there. So, for this post I'm going to talk about the theme or 'motif' of death and decay throughout this novel. The first time we see any mention of death or decay from the narrator is when Anodos is lying beneath the beech tree and, in his trance-like state, imagines that he “in autumn, grew sad because [he] trod on the leaves that had sheltered [him], and received their last blessing in the sweet odors of decay.” Here, MacDonald seems to allude to  decay as positive, associating it with the “sweet odours” that accompany autumn, rather than focusing on them as a precursor of winter and death. Although the odors are pleasurable, they still symbolize the death of the leaves and the only consolation is that they will return in the spring. Once again, MacDonald refers to decaying leaves along the forest floor, and although he terms them “brown,” a bleak color of dead nature, he also uses the word “rich.” This gives a positive idea to the decay, as the sweet smell did in the previous passage. MacDonald seems to recognize the death that decay brings, but accepts it as a part of nature and embraces the positive attributes of decay, such as the color and smell. In another passage, however, MacDonald becomes more negative when Anodos describes, “Yet, as the clearest forest-well tastes sometimes of the bitterness of decayed leaves, so to my weary, prisoned heart, its cheerfulness had a sting of cold, and its tenderness unmanned me with the faintness of long-departed joys.” He no longer portrays the leaves as having a “sweet odour,” but rather a “bitterness,” and the forest does not enliven him, but makes him cold. This negative shift gives the forest a much more sinister representation, creating a duality of both good and evil in the woods. Another time that MacDonald mentions decay in a negative light is when the Maid of the Alder-tree, with whom Anodos becomes enchanted, turns to her real form and Anodos describes her as “a rough representation of the human frame, only hollow, as if made of decaying bark torn from a tree.” This gruesome description also sheds a sinister light on decay. By giving this enchantress, who attempts to leave Anodos at the mercy of the Alder-tree, a body of rotting bark, MacDonald portrays decay as almost monstrous, since she is. Overall, MacDonald’s story looks at both the positive and negative implications of death and decay in terms of nature and people, representing them more positively than do authors writing about Victorian society. This just portrayal fits appropriately with his Fairy Land where both good and evil exist in a fairytale-like way. Although the forces of good and evil often find themselves in conflict, they result in a harmony and justice: reward for those who are good and punishment for those who are bad. I found in a review someone said, "Knights fight Alder-trees and maidens deceive, but everything works itself out ultimately." Moreover, while decay can destroy and kill, it can also renew and create beauty, particularly in fragrance.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Phantastes

The analogies and symbolism in Phantastes caught my attention.  I particularly noticed the significance of the shadow Anodos finds in the cupboard he was not supposed to open. 
After relaying the story to a friend, she likened it to Pandora's Box.  I had not thought of that, but it was interesting.  What I thought of when reading this particular part was sin and the story of how it entered the world.  Adam and Eve were told not to eat a certain fruit, and Anodos was told not to open a door.  Adam and Eve did eat, and Anodos did open.  The result for Adam and Eve was an introduction to sin, which kills and destroys.  Humans now have a sinful nature.  Anodos was introduced to his shadow, which is in my mind a sinful nature.  He takes note of how everything the shadow touches withers and dies, or changes somehow.  The shadow even clouds Anodos' mind.  He is no longer able to discern clearly the fairies and the trees, and he starts to think of his shadow as a blessing.  He says that he is fortunate to have a guide in Faerie Land, so that he will not be easily deceived.  I thing people in the real world sometimes think like that; we sometimes think that our sin is reality - we are lucky to be grounded - and that the idea of living without guilt and sin is fantasy.  

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Video Presentations


Embed your YouTube presentations here.
1. Go to your video on YouTube and click “Share” (you’ll see this under the video).
2. Select “Embed” and then select from the available options. Make sure the video is no bigger than 480x360.
3. Copy the code.
4. Go to your blog and create a new post, and on the left side of the page, select “HTML.”
5. Paste the code into the body of the post.
6. Under "Labels," select "Videos."
7. Publish!

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Monday, January 20, 2014

Tolkien's "On Fairy-Stories": Why Humans?


         In "On Fairy-Stories," when Tolkien discusses the various types of tales that are not fairy-stories, he gives and interesting piece of “evidence” in his argument of why beast-fables are one such tale. He says, “But in stories in which no human being is concerned; or in which the animals are the heroes and heroines, and men and women, if they appear, are mere adjuncts; and above all those in which the animal form is only a mask upon a human face, a device of the satirist or the preacher, in these we have beast-fable and not fairy-story” (Tolkien 328). According to Tolkien, people are essential to the fairy-story. But if it is so important to create a secondary world, and maintain that world’s secondary-ness, why is it necessary to include humans, the most impactful reminder of the primary world? Does Middle Earth really need the race of Men? Tolkien answers this question with a resounding “YES!” in many ways, chief among which is the character Aragorn, without whom we would have no “Return of the King.” But why humans?
            I have said that humans are the most impactful reminder of the primary world. I say this because even with other reminders, nothing is so essentially connected to the reader as the human self. Tolkien argues throughout the essay that fairy-stories have certain functions and they have various effects on the reader. The reader should walk away from the story, leave the Perilous Realm and come back again to the primary world, having gained something, whether that be recovery, consolation, escape, etc. Perhaps the inclusion of humans in the secondary world helps serve this purpose. After all, Tolkien is careful to say that a true fairy-story must have humans that are central to the narrative, not just “adjuncts.” So they can’t just be there; they have to be central in some way. This centrality of the human reinforces the reader’s own connection to the world of fairy and his/her role in it. 
            I’m sure there are numerous other takes on this aspect of “On Fairy-Stories” and maybe even some opposing arguments, so what do you ladies and gents think? 

Tolkien, J.R.R. “On Fairy-Stories.” Tales from the Perilous Realm. New York:                     Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2008. Print.