For a Christian believer, perhaps the most disturbing element of atheism is not that it is anti-God (we see that one coming a mile away and are pretty prepared for it) but that it is anti-human. Because for the believer a human person is something unique, mysterious, miraculous, and created by God with an eternal destiny, atheism must by definition be putting forth a radically different conception of what it means to be human.

As I read these novels, I had the uneasy feeling that the characters Pullman portrays were not “real” people. Of course, in a merely bad novel one gets that feeling simply because the characters are not well realized. But in this case it’s different, it’s as if Pullman is consciously, though surreptitiously, trying to invent a new kind of humanity, one without all the “baggage” of being the loved creation of the Judaeo-Christian God. What most of us would recognize as morality, for one. Most of the characters are not immoral, exactly, or even amoral. But their morality appears arbitrary and capricious, and does not rule out such things as lies, thievery, or cold-blooded murder. It is based on something the author refuses to divulge. It also creates a curious but distinct disorienting feeling of the “what’s it all about?” variety. Although there are a succession of gripping scenes in which we root for certain characters to survive, we can never quite discover what it is we’re supposed to be “rooting for” on the grand scale, unlike The Lord of the Rings, Narnia, or even the Indiana Jones saga, for heaven’s sake.

As human beings, we are very good at criticizing and even discarding the meaning and destiny which are given to us by God. But we are very, very bad at inventing something to replace them. All of our attempts to do so seem to go badly awry, e.g. mediocre novels, cults, totalitarian societies. We simply do not have it in us to create Heaven. But we can certainly come up with several varieties of reasonable facsimile of Hell.

I really loved the movie. And I really love the books. I don’t think polemic destroys them as fiction, although I do agree that it undermines them. I believe that reading the books, watching the films, and taking students (about high school age, I would say) to watch the film and have a conversation are all valuable activities for “Mars Hill” types of Christians. In my review I discuss some specific dangers of the first film that should be pointed out to younger audience members, but that are by no means reasons to stay away. The movie is beautiful, the books are brilliant. Enjoy!

Here’s what they have to say: “In our humble opinion, England is one of the most unique countries in the world. It’s an incredible blend of ancient and modern, classy and edgy, and traditions and innovations. Having been lucky enough to go to school there for a couple of years, we have some great memories and opinions to share with you. We hope that you find this forum helpful and inspiring, even if you have visited England before, and especially if you haven’t. Feel free to share memories, stories, ideas and great travel tips on the C.S. Lewis Foundation Blog.”

One is from Michael Ward and answers some of Pullman’s attacks on C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia. It’s in pdf form and can be viewed/downloaded at http://www.planetnarnia.com/michael-ward/writing.

Another is from Edward Higgins and Tom Johnson and can be found at http://www.christiancentury.org/article.lasso?id=4223. This article claims that the His Dark Materials trilogy contains worthy, even Christian, themes, despite the claims of many.

And a third article from Stephanie Paulsell compares the worlds of Pullman and Lewis, showing that there are many similarities in the two author’s visions, especially when it comes to their views on childhood and the function of storytelling/narrative. You can find it here: http://www.christiancentury.org/article.lasso?id=4206

Again, we at the Foundation do not specifically endorse these resources, but are providing them as part of the discussion.

Thanks! Steve Elmore

The same is true of of our culture’s infatuation with the cyber-self, or with the assumption that we can create ourselves through what we buy. We’re given tempting visual images in advertising; we picture ourselves with these products; we purchase them. Or we design a personal advertisement of sorts in a web page. But this only creates our “exterior self.” What we need others for is the mirror they provide of our inner selves. The more deeply you know and interact with others, the more you confront what’s universal about being human. And the more you have to make accommodations to others, the more conscious you become of who you are as distinct from them.

All of us have been in restaurants and observed (or experienced) the strange phenomenon of people gathered together for social interaction, but talking on their cell phones. They make eye contact with those around them, but deflect into the private technological experience they’re having. It’s a good example of the way self-creation flattens out a person’s multidimensionality.

This movie is apparently a purveyor of some popular myths about the Christian church, and the corruption of authority structures in general. Believing as I do (and as Lewis did) in the power and spiritual relevance of the imagination, I think the debate about this movie should center less around rational arguments embedded in it, and more around the subversive power of this medium. Myths often hide out in a person’s belief system even if they run counter to it, and film can challenge or confirm them without ever engaging a person’s rational processes.

To me the most reasonable response is simply not to view it. It hasn’t gotten great reviews; the subject doesn’t interest me; I don’t want to support the endeavor financially. And I’m capable of responding to any misunderstandings about Christianity that may arise in conversations with others who’ve seen it, without having to sit through it myself. (I have a Bible and a sin nature, and those are the basic tools needed.)

Making a hubbub of boycotting it seems counterproductive. Boycotts are more eloquent when they’re quiet and uncoerced.

Blessings!

I recently assigned a paper to my students at UCLA in which I had them analyze “social networking” sites like Facebook/Myspace (which they are all quite active on) in terms of individual vs. social communication. I wanted them to think about how they are using these “virtual communities” as either a platform to exhibit some idealized avatar of themselves or a more ritualistic site of community-building and shared meaning… or some combination therein. The consensus of my students was that Facebook-type communities are first and foremost valuable as an efficient way to be “in the loop” in everyone else’s lives. The real-time updates that are on every Facebook page are a sort of publicized self-disclosure in which every participant reveals their unfolding identity in accordance with what they want their perceived facebook “self” to be… So in this way it is definitely an individual, highly self-conscious construction of one’s “public” self, though it is done in the context of a tightly-knit community in which everyone wants to be in on everyone else’s experience.

It’s all very interesting to me, even though I’m not (and will never be) on Facebook…