My post Christian Spec-Fic: At a Crossroads or a Cul-de-Sac generated some great discussion, some of which is still going on. One phrase that got lifted from the conversation seemed to strike a nerve with a lot of folks and was addressed frequently in follow-up comments on that post and on THIS FB thread.
Monday, fantasy novelist Becky Miller addressed the “offending” phrase again in Christian Speculative Fiction and Intellectual Rigor. She opens,
…one phrase in particular gnawed at me: “intellectual rigor.” Christian fiction in general and speculative fiction in particular needs more intellectual rigor, according to one comment to the original post.
So what does “intellectual rigor” mean when it comes to fiction?
That phrase — “intellectual rigor” — was mine and occurred in response to Tony in the comments. Here it is:
I want to see Christian spec-fic succeed! I want to see Realm Makers grow! If I am able, I would definitely plan on attending. I just happen to think we’re going to need more intellectual rigor and less costumes to get somewhere. (bold, mine)
I think that comment ended up receiving as much response as the post itself. The cosplay crowd chimed in and vigorously defended their turf. Huzzah! But apparently it was my mention of “intellectual rigor,” or the lack thereof, that bugged not a few. Some responded suggesting I wasn’t at Realm Makers so I couldn’t say how intellectually rigorous it was. Others wrote to assure me that it wasn’t all fun and games at the conference.
I wanted to take a minute to delve into Becky’s question: “So what does ‘intellectual rigor’ mean when it comes to fiction?” However, a more accurate question would be, “What did MIKE mean when he suggested Christian writers need more intellectual rigor?” First, let’s take a look at what Becky thought I meant. She opens with this illustration:
Some years ago I read a novel touted for its literary quality. I decided I should read it as part of my writing education. The story had two point-of-view characters–sisters, as I recall.
One told her portion of the story in chronological fashion, starting at the beginning and working her way forward. The other, alternating with the first, told her portion looking back from the conclusion of the story, detailing the events in reverse order as they wound down toward the start.
Of course, the reader is left to figure out this structure on her own. How many chapters did I flounder through, uncertain what had happened or when and to whom. The worst of it was, in the end, one sister dies. That’s it. The other sister seems unchanged by the loss. Yes, it seems like a tragedy, but to what purpose? What’s the point? I closed the book feeling as if I’d been cheated.
Was that novel intellectually rigorous because I was confused most of the way through? In the same way that a puzzle is, I suppose. But I’ve worked many a puzzle and haven’t found my worldview challenged or my questions answered.
Ah, yes. There’s the rub. Unanswered questions are supposed to be a sign of intellectual rigor in this day and age. (emphasis in original)
While I do believe that ambiguity can be a powerful story-telling device (as Becky affirms in her later illustrations about parabolic teaching), let me be clear, this is not what I meant by Christian speculative fiction needing more “intellectual rigor.”
By “intellectual rigor” I’m not referring to the type of stories being published but the theological justifications for such stories.
One commenter on Becky’s post captures more of the gist of my thinking. From notleia:
As someone who has studied literature and has a certain fondness for Kurt Vonnegut, I made a Gollum-like screech of objection. I really don’t think anti-intellectualism is the answer, and one of my biggest objections to Christian fiction as it is is the one-size-fits-all answers that feel prepackaged and disingenuous. Are we going to leave CS Lewis as the lone high water mark for Christian intellectualism? Lewis engaged with and responded to (literary) Modernism, and I’ve yet to see anyone engage with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine.
I disagree with the commenter in that, as far as I can tell, Becky is not condoning “anti-intellectualism.” What I am in full agreement with, however, is the suggestion that the Christian fiction community has yet to “engage with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine.”
This intellectual “engagement” is much of what I see as lacking in our industry.
I agree with Becky that C.S. Lewis is a good example of intellectual rigor… just not for the same reasons she notes. Lewis’ essays on science fiction and art criticism reveals a scaffold of thought and body of theology that informed his writing. Among Lewis’ essays on literature, reading, theology, and genre, are
- Christianity and Literature
- On Three Ways of Writing for Children
- Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What Needs to Be Said
- On Science Fiction
- Christianity and Culture
And there’s many more. Point is Lewis spent time thinking through and articulating the theology behind fiction, fairy tales, myths, and science fiction. Sure, the guy was a scholar and literary critic. Nevertheless, this is the type of “rigor” that many of the greats — like Chesterton, Tolkien, O’Connor, Sayers, and Lewis — brought to their craft.
Take Flannery O’Connor. O’Connor wrote often about her writing and the theology which informed it. Furthermore, O’Connor often took on the conventions of then-contemporary religious novelists. For instance, in Mystery and Manners (p. 163) O’Connor writes:
Ever since there have been such things as novels, the world has been flooded with bad fiction for which the religious impulse has been responsible. The sorry religious novel comes about when the writer supposes that because of his belief, he is somehow dispensed from the obligation to penetrate concrete reality. He will think that the eyes of the Church or of the Bible or of his particular theology have already done the seeing for him, and that his business is to rearrange this essential vision into satisfying patterns, getting himself as little dirty in the process as possible.
Not only was O’Connor not afraid to challenge the status quo of the “religious novel,” she does so having thought through the “particular theology” that produces one or the other. As a Christian author, Flannery O’Connor put significant thought into the intersection of her theology, craft, and culture.
This is the type of “intellectual rigor,” I believe, that today’s Christian fiction community needs again.
But let me return to Becky’s criticism. Using the parabolic teachings of Christ, which involved powerful lessons to a simple agrarian culture, Becky concludes:
In all this talk of “intellectual rigor,” I’m hearing very little about adding significance to our fiction. It seems to me, some novelists today want to tell farmers stories about computers or auto mechanics about organic feeding processes. When they aren’t interested, these writers are chastising them for not being intellectually rigorous. I wonder how intellectually rigorous those writers would appear to be if they were given a farm to run.
If these writers want to reach farmers, they ought to be writing stories about which farmers care and which hold significance for farmers rather than criticizing them for the weakness of their intellectual rigor.
Ouch! I’ll try to ignore Becky’s not-so-veiled jabs at “those writers” who are preoccupied with “chastising [other novelists] for not being intellectually rigorous.”
Again, Becky proceeds on the wrong assumption that by “intellectual rigor” I mean content. I don’t. Indeed, speaking to farmers or children may require more intellectual rigor than less. Once again, my concern has to do with the “particular theology” that has given rise to and sustained the Christian fiction subculture.
As I responded in the aforementioned FB thread:
I see the Christian spec-fic genre as requiring a fairly serious break from the “bad theology” that has shaped much of mainstream Christian fic and a revisiting of a theology of the arts.
Them are my cards and they’re all on the table — “bad theology” has shaped much of mainstream Christian fiction.
My guess — no, my fear — is that many advocates of Christian speculative fiction are importing the same faulty theology and worldview into their approach of the Christian speculative fiction genre.
Other than genre, how is Christian speculative fiction different from mainstream Christian fiction?
That’s the question I wish to ask my fellow Christian spec-fic writers.
As I concluded in my original post: “…if Realm Makers is about simply reproducing CBA-style fiction for speculative readers, I believe we’ve failed. We’re still in the ghetto. The only real ‘crossroads’ Christian speculative fiction is at is whether or not it will remain simply an appendage to the existing Christian fiction industry or will blaze a trail, capture a new audience, and do more than just provide the ‘Christian alternative’ to Neil Gaiman.”
So let me issue a proposal…
If any group of writers are capable of bringing a significant change to the industry and expanding the poles of Christian story-telling, it would be Christian spec writers. Please don’t take this as a slam against other genre writers. There’s plenty of smart people and great writers writing something other than speculative fiction. However, from my perspective, the Christian spec-fic writer has two advantages:
- Speculative fiction has sustained huge ongoing cultural popularity (see the proliferation of spec titles in film, TV, and general market lit); it resonates with our culture and the human experience
- Christian spec-fic authors have a storied history (see Lewis, Tolkien, Chesterton, Sayers, L’Engel, etc.), not just in producing tales that became cultural landmarks, but in theological engagement with their craft and culture
The discussions that have followed the Realm Makers conference have been fantastic! Many of the subsequent commenters, like those on Morgan Busse’s post at Spec Faith, have suggested a broader reach. Whether it’s through inclusion or incorporation of comics and graphic artists, Christian filmmakers, a bigger platform for other genres (like horror), or simply reaching an audience that’s yet to be reached. The scope of this “new” genre, in my opinion, will be dependent not just upon organizational strategies, but upon the depth of the philosophy we can articulate and choose to embrace.
Is our “theology of speculative fiction” one that will move us forward and allow us to see more challenging, genre-bending stories that reach outside the mainstream of the Christian market? Not just a theology that disentangles itself from the mainstream, but one that allows us to “engage with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine.”
Just as Lewis, Tolkein, and Chesterton wrote essays on theology, literature, and genre, and O’Connor took to task the “religious novel” and its “particular theology,” might I suggest we need similar essayists and apologists to step forward in the Christian spec-fic community. I think E. Stephen Burnett and his team at Speculative Faith have been a great start. My suggestion is that we now take aim, be more specific, perhaps even forge an “association,” to carry on a great legacy began by others.
But to do this, requires “intellectual rigor,” a humble, collective articulation of and thinking through the theology and beliefs that have thus far shaped the “Christian art” culture.
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Much to think about, but first I have a question. You say:
‘Them are my cards and they’re all on the table — “bad theology” has shaped much of mainstream Christian fiction.’
Why is “bad theology” in quotes? Are you trying to temper your comment, in other words, “Yes I believe it is bad theology, but in case I’m wrong, I’ll put it in quotes.”?
Just curious.
I was about to ask the same: Summarize what you see as the “bad theology” model currently at work. Summarize what you’d consider the “good theology” model that you’d like to see replace it.
I don’t think some writers care about having a coherent vision for their works. They sit down, have a story idea, and go at it. If there is coherence, it comes from having it internally–the worldview is there, affecting mind and spirit, and it emerges. Not everyone is an O’Connor or a Lewis, of such keen intellect that they can articulate their vision and purpose precisely and can effectively face the frothing rapids of a culture that opposes said worldview.
Some folks just tell tales, following their muse where it takes.
I also see the intellectual discussion as important, but does everyone want to confront Postmodernism? What one puts into one’s creative work is what enthuses and compels EACH artist, not usually the collective, unless it’s a movement (“New Wave”; “Dada”; “Beat”; “Fauves”; “Cubist”; “Metaphysical”). I think because we are believers (the CSF readers/writers), we want the CBA SF to be beautiful and sharp-as-a-sword and full of wonder and engaging and point to truth. We want it to stand with the Big ABA Boys and Girls, and not look bedraggled and unfashionable. Well, I do. 🙂
For me, the big problem is the “Let’s play it safe” mentality. Let’s not be too “out there” or offend. And I have no idea how to change that…because that requires editorial risk-taking–or publisher vision-questing for editors who are SF savvy and visionary a well, and insightful about new ways to reach out to the unreached Christian SF reading masses who yearn for that something, something, something, few are providing–readership willingness to be taken to unsettling places, and authorial courage to push. How the heck does this come to pass? I’ve prayed. Is there a small cloud out there yet? (Well, it’s certainly better than a decade past, yes?)
Then again, is that bossy, demanding change, throwing out the challenge to I.R.? Conceited? Maybe most of the CBA SF writers do not feel constrained and write exactly as they wish. If so, I suspect the rest of my life will be spent browsing ABA writers and mostly reading ABA.
All I know is that as a devout believer and a fanatical SF-er–both since the mid-seventies– I am not satisfied with CBA offerings, where I can often not get past the first pages or chapter one; and I’m often saddened that my worldview is lacking in ABA offerings, which are at times outright and unabashedly hostile to my faith and hope. This reader’s Borderland can make a gal heave lonesome sighs…
Jessica, it’s in quotes b/c it’s my opinion that the theology behind many views of. contemporary Christian art is not entirely biblical. It’s an opinion that I know others disagree w/ on points.
Can you link to one or two more pointed blog entries of yours, Mike, where you showcase the particulars of the bad theology? I have a crap memory (thyroid/AI issues), so you’ve surely addressed this, but I may have missed/forgotten these posts. THANKS.
Mir, there’s many of them. However, I’m not at home so an extensive answer will have to wait. Sorry
Mir — I really don’t have a single post that I could point you to. Some posts that address, however tangentially, what I consider good and bad theology as it relates to Christian fiction would be: Can Good Fiction Contain Bad Theology, 7 Ways Clean Fiction Can Harm Us, When is Fiction False Doctrine, The Problem with Message-Driven Fiction, Christian Fiction Box or Continuum?
But I think it’s more than your opinion. I think it’s what you really think, which is that CBA-backed theology bad, so I don’t think the quotation marks are needed. I say, bring out the big BB guns and obliterate those fancy quotes. Let the naysayers squirm.
“Good” theology is what is biblical, agrees with what God says in His Word, does not go beyond it or twist it to make certain things okay that He expressly declares are not, whether the author writes “spec fic” or Amish courtships. “Bad” theology is precisely the opposite, “speculating” in ways that mock Scripture and posit the notion that “anything goes” because it’s, well, “spec.” If we call ourselves Christians, we need to write in line with what Jesus says, not ourselves. “Anything goes” does go — straight to a bad place, condemned by God — in His Word. His Word, and His Word alone, should mold us, make us. and restrict us, both in our writing regardless of genre, as well as in our lives before Him.
OK, so gimme two or three specifics of bad theology in CSF, just to clarify. Cause we have a multitude of denoms cause folks disagree on what is “biblical theology”. Does this mean I can’t write a CSF where there are 6 gods in a sextunity–even though the purpose of it as “fantasy” is to highlight attributes of the true God? Does this mean that I can’t have a hermaphrodite prophet-hero-heroine-multiple-personality, even if I have the heroine portion submit to her hero portion to consider gender roles/submission-leadership/sexuality issues? 😀
Let me speak to your example. I wouldn’t call “6 gods” in any sense Christian, because there is only One True God and He hates the very idea of a multiplicity of “gods.” “I am YHWH, besides me there is no other.” He says that Himself. So even to ask that question strains against biblical theology. This is the tendency I see in a lot of “specfic” — to posit notions that just do not stand up in the light of Scripture. Search the scriptures. Your answers are there. And mine. We should not write, much less speculate, upon things He has not chosen to reveal. This is not an attractive message today, but God’s already told us how He feels about certain things and drawn the veil of discrection over others. I could also mention here stories about the detailed intricacies of angels and demons, things concerning which God has not chosen to tell us. We shouldn’t go where He doesn’t. In His Word. I don’t know enough about angels and demons to write about the details of their world, because God has chosen to keep that veil down. I can’t go where He chooses not to. In the same vein (pun intended), my vampire novel involves a living, breathing human being Christian, albeit a most unusual one — because Jesus Christ died on the cross for living, breathing sinful human beings — not the Undead. I mention that as an example of what I’m driving at, not a plug. To have made my main character dead or even Undead is a violation of what God has revealed. God’s Word is our boundary. Let us not go where He does not.
He is, indeed, one God, but that One God is Father and Son and Spirit. The three are one; the One is Three And no matter how you cut that, it’s impossible for the human brain to wrap around it. But if I want to write a story where, in that reality, in that Cosmos and Existence, God is Six-One, not Three-One, and ask “what if”, and explore how that would affect time/space/humanity….why is that verboten? It’s not intended as non-fiction. It’s intended as a speculative exploration in order to delve into something that is, from the get-fo, mind-boggling and mysterious and wonder-inducing.
See, the way I see it, speculative fiction is the fiction where, more than any other, you create something new, you set up a universe of your making to explore, within that alien or magical or freaky environment the realities and issues of THIS reality. You shake up the mind and heart by taking people out of the ordinary and expected, and toss them a challenging: What if?
For instance, what I’m working on now has as one of it’s unreal realities this what if: What if there are fallen angels who CAN be redeemed? It’s not the main issue/conflict, but it’s part of the fantasy Earth, an Earth that is not actual Earth, but where I posit the question and work out the complexity and actions that would follow it: What makes them redeemable (as opposed to the unredeemable fallen) and what does God do in the interim with them (or not do) and how does he, in fact, redeem them, since they are not human and redeemed by Christ? My whole point is to create a world where this CAN happen, not that it WILL happen, to examine notions of exile, restoration, and grace–not just for the fallen and humans, but even for fantasy creatures….and try to do it without being uberpreachy. Just THINK and PONDER these things in a world that makes it possible. I do not think that should be disallowed. In fact, I see that as the specific use of worldbuilding–to make a world that lets you examine what can’t happen in this one in order to better grasp THIS one.
ROFL! This is exactly the kind of thinking that is limited and isn’t looking “beyond” the obvious, isn’t exploring in the true spirit of speculative fiction AND the bible. This is “inside the box” theology that the church suffers from both inside and outside the writing community.
Mir suggests a story with 6 gods in a sextunity. HG says, “Not biblical!”
It is ABSOLUTELY in the spirit of the bible — we have “3 gods in a trinity”, by any straightforward count. So I think creating a sextunity scenario would do EXACTLY that.
Spec fic says “what if?” Spec fic says “take what is true and create an analogous situation just different enough to give people a fresh view of truth”.
We’re not creating a new reality. We’re not saying God is six-in-one. We’re not saying to worship this new 6-person’ed god.
We’re telling a story about a God whose mysterious state of being includes somehow being ONE and yet being several separate, distinct persons. Wrapping one’s brain around that with a sextunity is the same challenge we have wrapping our brains around the trinity.
However…. If your conscience doesn’t allow you to write a story like this, because it smacks too much of blasphemy, then DON’T DO IT. The Word indicates that violating your own conscience is as bad as violating His commands — it is sin to you. But try to understand that others see it differently, and they are just as bible-honoring and God-honoring in their freedom outside that box as you are inside it.
Excellent response!
Interesting that you bring this up, Mir. We had a brief discussion at SpecFaith in the Summer Writing Challenge with a writer who called into question a number of speculative elements as unbiblical. One of the things that needs to be clear, I think is the difference between pretend and reality. If you were to claim that God is actually six in one and that your story is a reflection of that truth, then that would be bad theology. But look at what Lewis did in Out of the Silent Planet. Hardly your standard view of God in the space trilogy, and yet clearly God and refreshingly true.
Becky
You could do it, but I think you also have to realize that being weird for weird’s sake can be tough to justify to the reader. You can write a sextune union, but you’d have to be careful to justify it in-universe in a way where it doesn’t descend into a pantheon in disguise. The trinity is a tough thing to even comprehend let alone write about, and doubling it can’t just be because it sounds cooler.
The hermaphrodite sounds a little too ninja zombie pirate robot orphan to me. Too many traits. I think you could do it, but you can’t really apply strict Biblical headship to a fantasy world where hermaphrodism is common. I guess I’m saying that there’s no bad theology in being out there but you need to be careful to strongly justify your world the more out there you get, and not throw in elements because it’s cool only.
The point isn’t to be weird or be cool. But instead to use a spec fic approach to explore issues relevant to the human condition.
My current storyline uses the (tiresome to some) world of werewolves, vampires and zombies to explore the human condition. Funny thing is, that’s exactly what some of the *secular* folks out there are doing with it (or maybe they are Christians in the general market and I just don’t know it). The “Being Human” TV series is the perfect example of this. From what I hear, “The Walking Dead” does this, too.
Let’s join the conversation that’s already happening out there.
I think I see what Mir is going for, and (as with so many things) it could be done very well or very poorly. I’m on the side of the CSF spectrum that says, “Absolutely, explore issues this way!” We may succeed or fail. We may not even agree with each other on measurements for success and failure. But I think this is exactly what spec fic is good for, when it comes to engaging culture and exploring our own faith via story.
I agree with this, and I’m really not intending to say “don’t speculate or be high concept.” I think though sometimes you can be too complex for your concept, and it has to flow from the world you’ve created. If you’re exploring concepts of male/female headship when gender is fluid, making the character bipolar or have multiple personalities can impair the point you want to make. Sometimes it’s possible to mistake complexity for speculation, and each element has to be justified by worldbuilding as well as the modified theology of the world you make.
Ah, gotcha. Totally agree.
I’m not an “-ism” person like you, Mike. You post so many posts that make me have to go look up these -ism terms. I found a couple sites that offered fairly understandable definitions of postmodernism, but honestly, I could use some clarification.
Anyway, here’s my take on “intellectual rigor”:
We need stories that aren’t just a presentation of the “good news” in story form, such as the formula romance where a sweet Christian girl meets an unsaved guy, they fall in love, and in the end he ends up having a conversion moment because some wise friend/father/pastor/guy on the bus/whatever explained to him that he can be forgiven if he just opens his heart to Jesus. So that translates to not having stories where you just substitute “alien” for unsaved guy, or some such.
Another example would be stories that can’t just be broken down to Sunday school lessons–like a basic (and obvious) retelling of David and Goliath where Goliath is an ogre or “this is what forgiveness looks like…with Elves.”
Instead we need stories that…grapple and not just exemplify.
I do think there is a place for CBA-style spec-fic, which shockingly would be *in* the CBA. (Not saying there could be none of that in Realm Makers, but I don’t see RM at all defined by that.)
I also think there is a place for story that’s just for story’s sake. I don’t think all fiction written by Christians has to tackle faith issues. Some of it can just be great story-telling.
All that said…is that even close to what you’re talking about–the first part anyway–and what exactly do you mean by “engage with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine”?
Kat, I did some study about postmodernism because I wanted to understand it, so if you’re interested, I can give you a link to those blog posts. I read a book entitled How Postmodernism Serves (My) Faith (Crystal L. Downing, IVP, 2006), and offered my reactions.
I’m with Mike and the commenter at my site when it comes to confronting this way of thinking through the vehicle of story. I think I said this some while ago in a comment to one of Mike’s posts–we tend to “present the gospel” in our Christian fiction, telling people to repent of their sins, but our culture doesn’t believe in sin. People make mistakes and elements of society mislead them, but sin? No. Those stories about a character embracing Christ who died for their sins fly past a person who doesn’t believe in sin.
Becky
Yes, Becky, I’d love the link.
Here you go, Kat and Teddi. I wrote 12 posts in all, so I’ll give you the link to the category and you can pick and choose what’s of interest. They start on page two–just the first two posts. They continue here (from the bottom up). In particular I’d suggest a look at “What Postmodernism Gets Right.”
Becky
Thanks!
Rebecca, wow! I just read every one of your posts on the subject of post-modernism, and you did a really great job.
I haven’t dived into the subject of modernism vs post-modernism in quite some years, but your posts on the subject were a refreshing refresher course. I do have a quibble with “A Look at Postmodernism – Part 7”, but my quibble may be because I’m constrained by my language to my own reality and am unable to comprehend how your reality intersects with mine, objectively or subjectively. (LOL!!! My quibble is that even “objective reality” in post-modernism deconstruction is, to a certain degree, subjective.)
Seriously, the writing and thinking you did in constructing that series of posts is excellent, and I would recommend them to quite a few people I know. Thanks very much for sharing them with us.
Thanks, Robert. I appreciate your supportive comment. I learned a lot by doing those posts. I’ll make a note of your quibble, too, and take another look at that post. I may now have the same quibble! 😉
Becky
Becky–apparently I never actually wrote the comment I thought I did in which I thanked you for providing the links :). I’ve started and deleted quite a few comments to this thread because of jumbled up thoughts on the issue and didn’t realize that got lost in the shuffle.
Anyway, I did find your articles really helpful. And I also realized the issue isn’t which particular “-ism” we’re dealing with, but the fact that there *always is* one to deal with. And it always brings me back to the same conclusion: there are Christian writers meant to write to and for Christians, and Christian writers meant to write to and for non-Christians.
I think, though, the writers I relate most to are those that are trying to bridge the wall between the two. Those of us writing in what I tend to call “the void.” Where Christianity can either be overt or subtle, but the book doesn’t nestle neatly into the CBA market or the ABA. My YA books could fit just fine in the ABA, and have in fact been basically dubbed “faith-free” by some Christian readers and one Christian book award, but they are being “ghettoized” as one reader put it because of readers’ constant references to the underlying Christian content. The thing is, even though my Christian content IS underlying and that is where I want it, it does no good to deny it’s there altogether, and that ends up chucking me right back into the void–where some Christians find it worthless because it’s not overt and non-Christians will see all the Christian references in reviews and be turned off.
My point being, it’s not entirely a cultural relevance issue for me. I’m not someone whose purpose for writing is evangelism, but rather expression of my faith in my writing the way it feels most natural for me–in other words, me writing the kind of book I want to read. I’m not in the CBA demographic. I’m not a non-Christian in need of evangelism. I’m a Christian reader who reads mostly secular novels who wants to find books aimed at me.
Kat, I’m glad those articles served a purpose. I agree with you about the “ism”s–always with us. For Christian writers, I do think it’s helpful to understand what framework many of our readers are coming to our books with, and that includes Christians (but that’s another whole topic).
Everything you wrote about your fiction, I could just as easily have written. I too write in “the void.” But I’m excited by the strides the traditional Christian publishing houses are making to break down the ghetto walls. I’m thinking, one day they may expand so far that they will swallow up the void. 😉 (Can you tell, I liked your metaphor? 😀 )
If general market houses will expand to swallow up the void, I’d be happy with that, too. I’m all for Christians publishing in the general market–some so they can have a witness, some so their stories can plant seeds, some just to make a living, if writing is their profession.
It’s a little tricky, this business of being in the world but not of it. I’m convinced, though, if Christians withdraw from an occupation–acting, writing, law, you name it–we are essentially withdrawing our witness from those whose lives are touched by the people in those professions. Writing, of course, can touch far more people than we imagine. I don’t believe Christians should only speak to Christians, so by implication, we shouldn’t write only to Christians.
But for far too long, general market fiction, like general market media of other kinds, has not given place to Christians. Some of it may be our fault, some of it theirs, some of it the fault of a culture that has adopted mores more suited to a godless society. I don’t think we can “fix” these faults–at least not in my lifetime. So my question is, what do I do with what I am writing?
I think everyone has to answer that in their own way, but I don’t think we need to latch onto and push the agenda of the way we decide to go. For example, I don’t think writers who decide to self-publish should blast traditional publishing; I don’t think those who publish in the CBA should accuse those leaving for the general market as selling out, etc. BTW, I’m not targeting any specific writers who might be doing those things. It’s a general comment based primarily on snatches of conversation here and there and what I observed years ago in education (public schools, Christian schools, and homeschooling–it perfectly mirrors what’s going on in publishing).
But now I’m rambling. 😉
Maybe we need to start our own small press, Kat, and call it The Void.
Becky
I’d be interested in those blog links, too, Becky. I did a brief search and started reading the Wikipedia article on postmodernism but my eyes started glazing over and I decided that I’d need a different approach if I were to learn about it.
I’m more interested in the trend as it applies to / is at odds with the Christian worldview, and general textbook stuff about it doesn’t help much. Also curious how it works out in fiction works. I don’t read literary fiction, and haven’t necessarily noticed a big difference in the content of stories in spec fic over the past 50-60 years (other than surface stuff). I need someone to point it out to me.
Kat asked, “what exactly do you mean by ‘engage with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine’?”
That’s a re-quote of the phrase the commenter used on the Spec Faith blog. They used “postmodernism” as a contrast against the literary modernism of Lewis’ day. I’m using the term in the sense that, 1.) Postmodernism IS the driving ideology in culture and literature so Christian authors should be willing and able to engage it, and 2.) Engaging culture SHOULD be one of the motivations of the Christian artist, as opposed to simply entertaining or placating or something.
Engaging “with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine” starts with understanding what postmodernist thought is and how that compares and contrasts with (small “o”) orthodox Christian thought. That’s not as daunting a task as it sounds, and Rebecca LuElla Miller has an excellent set of posts on the subject that are well worth reading (see above).
For a post-modernist, all reality is constrained by the language we use and is almost always subjective. All social constructs are artificial. All relationships are power constructs. There is much more, but let’s just take these three things.
How can a Christian SpecFic writer show the truth of the Bible to someone who (a) disbelieves in God or god but probably does believe in some ethereal spiritual “otherworldly realm” and (b) believes that all reality is constrained by language and most reality is subjective? Christians believe that there are many social constructs (for example, marriage is limited to one man and one woman) are ordained by the One, True God. How do you write SpecFic that showcases that to someone who believes that all social constructs are artificial? Christians can find some agreement with postmodernists in the idea that relationships are power constructs, but that begs the question of who has the power (both dynamic and juridical) to order those relationships.
As you have already pointed out, Mike, “intellectual rigor” in Christian SpecFic means that Christian SpecFic writers must know very well what they believe and why they believe it. It’s all well and good to say, “God said it. That settles it.” when among fellow Christian believers, but if you want to engage the world with Christian thought, or equip the saints to engage the world with Christian thought, then you very well ought to know why you believe what you believe and be able to articulate the reasons for your beliefs in terms that go beyond “God said it.” You don’t need degrees in theology, philosophy, Church history, and modern science, but you ought at least to have read broadly and (a little bit) deeply in those areas and put your own thoughts into a logical, coherent framework that can be understood by a non-believer.
In addition, Christian SpecFic needs to get down in the mud and muck of “real life” (in quotes because it is, after all, speculative fiction 🙂 ). None of us are perfect, and I can be decidedly imperfect on certain days when things aren’t going according to my well-ordered plans. 🙂 Stories where the good guy is always obviously good and the bad guy is always obviously bad don’t very often work for me. Those types of characters tend to be cardboard cutouts, not real people (in the world of the story) worthy of my sympathy or antipathy.
Just my $0.o2, and probably not worth the paper it’s written on, but there you have it.
Thanks for this thoughtful post, Mike. I really like it.
Amen, Mike. Amen.
One of my wishes is that Christians — writers and non-writers — would be less reactionary and more thoughtful. By that I mean this: stop, think, then speak, or stop, think, then write. Consider how what we say or write reflects or represents the Word of God. Consider why we do what we do. Why we think what we think. Why we feel what we feel. Why we write what we write.
I’ve critiqued and edited many novels, secular and Christian, and more Christian than secular writers seem to have difficulty standing back and being objective about their work, because Christians tend to spiritualize or put God’s stamp on what they produce. (Whether it’s actually stated or not, that’s an attitude or point of view I often encounter.) “But God gave me this story!” or “That’s the way the story must happen,” with no thought to WHY, or to the theological underpinnings. Little or no thought to what they actually say versus what they intend to say.
And, if the WHY is answered, it may not be a solid or viable why. It may be weak, errant, obtuse.
Just ran into that last month with a writer who wants to shoehorn and twist historical facts and point-blank Biblical statements in order to keep a particular twist at the end of her story. Although that twist is weak and cheats the reader, she insists it must be kept because that’s how “God inspired me.” (Somehow I doubt God would inspire her by twisting His own Word.)
I’m all for intellectual rigor. It lends our work weight, especially with readers outside the faith.
Thanks for your post, Mike. I appreciate you delving into this subject in more depth.
Above you said
I’d like to offer you a counter challenge–sort of like the one you took up with the romance writers. Would you be willing to read a Christian speculative novel that I choose for you and then answer the question yourself–if and in what way Christian speculative fiction differs from mainstream Christian fiction.
Understand, of course, that there’s a broad spectrum of Christian speculative fiction, but that’s true about all genres. Some is better than others and some is not particularly good at all. Obviously I’ll choose a book that I think demonstrates that what you’re looking for already exists (yes, in the “CBA”) and that will only proliferate if we don’t kill it off by ignoring it or by telling people that there’s nothing available in Christian speculative fiction of any significance.
So what do you think? Are you game? Do you have time?
Becky
Becky, I know there’s plenty of good Christian spec fic out there. I’m not arguing against that. At all. My argument would be that bad theology, reactionary religion, and a lowbrow view of the arts will never engage the more serious spec-fic readers. We will just grow our slice of the pie inside the existing Christian fiction reading community. That’s all.
If you’d like to suggest a title, I’d be happy to take you up on the challenge and do a review. But, as I said, i think this is simply skirting the issue.
“My argument would be that bad theology, reactionary religion, and a lowbrow view of the arts will never engage the more serious spec-fic readers.” Couldn’t agree with you more!
My contention is that “CBA” is not what you think it is, at least, not exclusively. There are publishing houses that are making serious attempts to broaden their market by adding books that break the perceived mold. For a long time I argued that “craft” was better in Christian fiction from what many critics suggested. Now the same is true regarding substance.
All I’m saying is, I don’t think we should whitewash the entire industry with the same brush. Some houses, some authors have made great strides in just this past year. Now is the time for readers to buy those books and encourage those publishers. The message they need to hear is, yes, more books like these!
So, yes, I’d like to give you a book (or several you can choose from) and review it if you choose, but primarily answer your question–well, your question with one small revision: is Christian speculative fiction different from [the perception of] mainstream Christian fiction, and if so, in what way?
I made the revision because I also recently read a mystery that is quite different from what many people perceive to be Christian fiction. I don’t read enough other genres, however, to know how common these kinds of books are.
Becky
Becky, to be clear, I think that “bad theology, reactionary religion, and a lowbrow view of the arts” is what’s created the Christian arts ghetto we currently find ourselves in. I think our differences would become clear if you engaged my points more specifically, namely the question: “Other than genre, how is Christian speculative fiction different from mainstream Christian fiction?” If I’m reading you correctly, your answer would be, “It isn’t.” Which is why I think we’d just be increasing our slice of the Christian fiction market, not reaching more avid, hardcore spec readers.
If you’d like to list a couple books, I’ll definitely choose some and read and review them. Thanks!
I know you do, Mike, and what I’m saying is, let the publishers out of the ghetto when they stick their toes outside the safe zone. It’s not helpful to assume they are producing the same books they were even last year.
My answer to your question is just the opposite. The Christian speculative fiction I’ve read this summer is not the “come to Jesus” stories many expect. Stephen Lawhead hasn’t written that kind of fiction in a long time. I don’t know why people don’t read his Bright Empires series and get that he’s leading the way into a whole different kind of Christian speculative fiction.
I’ll give you three titles: Dragonwitch by Anne Elisabeth Stengl, Merlin’s Blade by Robert Treskillard, and A Cast of Stones by Patrick Carr. Dragonwitch is probably the most different of anything CBA has produced before (edited by Dave Long, by the way) except for Lawhead, but it would be the hardest for someone to read because it comes in the middle of the Tales of Goldstone Wood series (so there are things from the previous books that come into play).
You could add Captives by Jill Williamson to the list, too, though some may think it’s not so different from other Christian fiction. I think it’s different in some ways and the same in some ways.
Becky
It’s funny you mention Lawhead. I first encountered him by reading those “come to Jesus” books, and I really liked him as an author. But then he did the Song of Albion trilogy, and while it was good, to me at the time it seemed like he abandoned the faith in his writing to cross over into the secular market.
I don’t know if he did, though. The me who bought the first-run hardcovers of that book is a different person than the me now, and I had much less tolerance for ambiguity then. But then he did the Arthur books, and seemed to move into a historical anglophile fantasy, and he pretty much lost me as a reader.
It’s funny you mention him because my own reaction to him was so strikingly different. I need to reread him, because it’s been something like twenty years since I’ve cracked open one of his books, but he’s probably one of the first Christian authors to legitimately cross over into the ABA.
D. M., I have not been a Lawhead fan. I read one of his fantasies–I think the first in the Song of Albion and thought it was . . . average, maybe a little derivative. I never finished the series. I don’t gravitate to the Arthurian tales, so didn’t pick up those books either. And yes, when he moved from fantasy to historical, I let him go.
However, when he started publishing with a Christian house again, he moved back into . . . not fantasy, really, but myth, and I discovered I liked his stories. I liked his voice. I didn’t get particularly close to his characters, but I felt his work was now above average.
Then came the Bright Empire series. The first one I would say stayed in the above average category, but the second and third moved the books into a whole new level, in my opinion. I’m a fan of this series, if not of Lawhead.
Becky
Becky, I hope I’d be honest enough to applaud Christian publishers who DO take risks. It’s one of the reasons I Bethany House and Jeff Gerke for taking chances publishing books with profanity and more edgy content — edgy, that is, by typical Christian market estimates.
However, it is those same cultural mores that will cause such elements to grate for many Christian readers, as I’m assuming they will for many Christian spec readers. It’s why SO many Christians argue that Dekker or Lawhead have stripped overt Christian content from their novels in order to crossover. It’s why Tosca Lee and others get charged with pushing the boundaries of “speculation” into the realm of false doctrine. It’s why my publisher refused to allow one of my characters to rebuke a ghost with the words, “Go to hell.” These are the conventions of CBA fiction that I don’t really see changing. Nor are they the changes I think you’re applauding.
I DID read the first book in Lawhead’s Bright Empire series. I like his stuff, but just felt that book was okay. However, some charged that series with minimal to no overt Christian content. And Lawhead’s like Dekker in some ways because his platform is so established, it’s hard to call him representative of the average.
Something else I’d note about your selections: They’re all epic fantasy. Why do you think that is? I’ve suggested before that the reason Christian speculative fiction is largely epic fantasy is two fold — both reasons having to do with respecting traditional CBA strictures. One, fantasy gives writers more room to speculate without being charged with heresy. Two, expletives are less an issue in Middle Earth.
I have one of the books you mentioned, Cast of Stones, and shall take up your challenge. I’d like to ask you, have you read The Stand? I read it last year and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was surprised by the amount of “Christian” content. That is the kind of “Christian novel” I can’t see the CBA or the Christian fiction reading community (as opposed to just readers who are Christians) ever getting behind. So while the CBA may not be publishing the “come to Jesus” novels of the past, I can’t see the essentials of what we’ve come to call “Christian fiction” really changing.
Mike, I see this concern with language and sex as anything but “intellectually rigorous.” This focus is what I assumed, from our past discussions, you wanted to see in Christian speculative fiction, and until it’s there you won’t think the books have “come out of the ghetto.” I disagree. I don’t think general market readers demand swearing in their novels. I don’t even think they demand sex scenes unless they want pornography, which, of course, some do.
What I think any discerning reader wants is believable characters, a compelling plot, an imaginative and realistic setting, and a thought-provoking theme.
I’ve said for as long as I’ve been writing about fiction, I think, that Christian fiction needs to do a better job with theme. We need to write with more significance and we have to learn how to incorporate themes with some nuance. We also need to learn how to weave them seamlessly and naturally into our stories rather than front loading them or (and this was the reactionary approach to “preachiness”) ignoring theme, trusting it to “naturally seep” into our stories because of our worldview.
Interesting that you mentioned Lawhead’s first Bright Empires book. I just commented to D. M. above that I also thought that was on the average scale, though I said above average. I may be influenced by my reaction to the next two books–it’s hard to say. But my point is, Lawhead is not on an island. He’s leading the way into something different.
The books I recommended, by the way, are not all epic fantasy. Only Patrick Carr’s Staff and Sword series can be considered epic fantasy. Jill Williamson’s is futuristic dystopian fantasy. Robert Treskillard is legend–reads more like historical and the good/evil elements arise from the beliefs of that day. Anne Elisabeth Stengl writes fairytale fantasy–completely different from epic fantasy. These are not fables like C. S. Lakin writes but real fairytales based on the interaction of the fairy realm with the worlds of mortals. Her most compelling character (many of her readers say) is a fairy who takes the shape of a cat or of a man but is always actually both.
As far as some authors “stripping” overt Christianity from their novels, I don’t think it was ever Lawhead’s intention to include overt Christianity. I’ve read six of his novels now, I think, and I haven’t seen overt Christianity in any of them.
Dekker is another matter. I read one of his early books and it was supposed to be a sort of retelling of Job, only with a non-Christian protagonist (yeah, it didn’t work for me). The climax is all about a praying mother-in-law and a big conversion. I suspect people who read that book wouldn’t recognize Dekker in what he’s writing now. But false doctrine? I haven’t heard that charge against him. (Tosca Lee’s own novels, even Demon: A Memoir to a certain extent, are Biblical fiction, and I think that opens up a writer to justifiable comparison with actual Scripture).
All that to say, publishers who want to include thematically Christian novels that don’t have overt Christianity should be encouraged to do more of this. This is what separates much of Christian speculative fiction (not the supernatural stories, obviously) from much of what people have known as Christian fiction.
So now I’m wondering what you think should set apart a Christian work, not from “CBA fiction” but from general market fiction written by non-Christians.
Becky
Becky, as I’ve stated before, I think the demand for G-rated content is, in many ways, based on bad theology and cultural retreat. This is what you’re arguing for, right? G-rated content? And if you’re not, what non-G-rated elements will you allow and why? And what PG-rated and R-rated elements make a story non-Christian, and why? And if a Christian story can be R-rated, why shouldn’t Christian publishers publish those?
This is partly what I mean by “intellectual rigor” and feel the conservative Christian reading community is beholden to a “touch not / taste not” theology that severely limits our engagement with art and culture. This, in part, has produced the “bad fiction” Flannery O’Connor references in the above quote, fiction which emanates from a “particular theology” that requires the Christian writer only to “rearrange this essential vision into satisfying patterns, getting himself as little dirty in the process as possible.” Above, you said, “let the publishers out of the ghetto when they stick their toes outside the safe zone.” Let me be clear: Part of the what I consider the “ghetto” is what I believe you are arguing for.
You may not consider debating this “particular theology” or what O’Connor means by the religious author wanting to get “as little dirty” as possible as “intellectually rigorous.” I definitely do.
You never did answer my question whether you’ve read The Stand. I’m guessing you haven’t. Or what about Dean Koontz’s Odd Thomas series? Koontz is an outspoken Catholic whom Dave Long said may be writing some of the best Christian fiction on the market. Have you read Koontz? You see, I may not be as familiar with CBA speculative fiction as you. But the reverse is probably also true — you’re not that familiar with the ABA speculative fiction market. Part of my experience in talking with Christians who read across the gamut — ABA and CBA speculative fiction — is that they don’t need coddled. They’re looking for a good story and aren’t so picky about the story having all its theological ducks in a row or a character occasionally saying “dammit.”
My idea is that if the Christian spec community wants to reach this broader audience of more hardcore spec fans and tap into the cultural popularity of speculative themes, we must broaden our scope, become more culturally savvy and persuasive in our understanding of and approach to the arts. To me, this means moving past the “particular theology” and cultural retreat we’ve allowed to define Christian fiction.
Koontz isn’t that good of a writer these days though. The first Odd Thomas book I read was good, but his Frankenstein series was average, and he’s written some really bad books recently, like Breathless. He’s trying to write too many, too fast. It seems you have to be like James Patterson these days and have a supernatural production schedule (or use a stable of ghostwriters) to work in mainstream fiction.
I’m reading The Stand based on your recommendation, but I’m something like seven hundred pages in and only now are the two powers Abagail and Flagg revealing themselves. Not much symbolism before then, but he’s setting up a lot of characters and situations.
Mike, I know you lay great store on what you term “getting dirty.” I don’t. I suggest that in the works you mentioned in your post which you used to illustrate what you consider “a scaffold of thought and body of theology” that informed C. S. Lewis’s writing, it’s unlikely you’ll find a section devoted to more cursing or sex scenes.
I’ve said before, I think it’s a waste of energy, and a distraction from substantive issues, for a writer to fixate on these externals. As a Christian, I have my standards, informed by my theology. What I believe is right for my writing doesn’t have to agree with what you believe is right for your writing.
I honestly don’t care if the CBA starts publishing R-rated books or not. That’s for them to decide. Whatever they do would not change my standards one way or the other.
At the same time, I believe Christians can and should engage our culture. If God directs a writer to do so through story, I don’t think that we accomplish this work of engaging by being unidentifiably the same as non-Christian writers. On the other hand, I don’t think some set of external mores defines a Christian. We ought to be writing in a substantively different way, not an externally different way. But writing in an externally similar way doesn’t mean we are reaching our culture.
The bottom line for me is, if you think you can glorify God by writing a story with cussing, swearing, and overt sex scenes, then write your story and publish with a general market house. But other writers have different convictions.
From what you say, Mike, it sounds as if you believe it is impossible for a Christian to write for non-Christians without including swearing and sex scenes. That’s the point I’m contending. I think you are selling readers short. You think they care about things that they don’t care about.
I’ll give you an illustration from TV comedy. Many people will say to this day that I Love Lucy is the funniest comedy ever aired. No one says, yeah, it’s funny, but it would have been so much funnier if they’d been able to curse in those days, or if they’d had dirtier jokes or more sexual innuendo. That show was funny because it poked at the human condition. They created substance and it had nothing to do with bad language or sex.
If Christians will write stories with substance, the peripherals won’t matter.
And, no, I haven’t read The Stand, and though I’ve written to Dean Koonz and invited him to guest at Spec Faith, I haven’t read the Odd Thomas books either. I don’t like horror. It’s a matter of personal taste. I have read several books that are closer to my genre, however: Shannon Hale’s Princess Academy sequel (I forget the title), Throne of Glass by Sarah Maas, Falling Kingdoms by I forget her name. I’m not sure what your point is here. You say “Part of my experience in talking with Christians who read across the gamut — ABA and CBA speculative fiction — is that they don’t need coddled.” I say, they also don’t need swearing and sex scenes.
We agree readers want a good story, but I continue to contend that swearing and sex scenes don’t make a good story. They aren’t even required of a good story.
It is much more incumbent upon the Christian writer to do a better job saying something significant. Theme is what speaks to readers. What are we saying to our culture that matters? That’s what I think is important and that’s what I think the latest Christian speculative fiction has begun addressing.
Becky
Becky: “I know you lay great store on what you term ‘getting dirty.’ I don’t. ”
Mike: I lay value on realism and truth, not ‘getting dirty.
Becky: “I suggest that in the works you mentioned in your post which you used to illustrate what you consider ‘a scaffold of thought and body of theology’ that informed C. S. Lewis’s writing, it’s unlikely you’ll find a section devoted to more cursing or sex scenes.”
Mike: That’s b/c I’m not mainly advocating “more cursing or sex scenes.” Lewis tackled much bigger issues, which is what I’d like to think I’m attempting.
Becky: “I’ve said before, I think it’s a waste of energy, and a distraction from substantive issues, for a writer to fixate on these externals.”
Mike: I think readers like yourself are far more “fixated” on this issue than me.
Becky: “As a Christian, I have my standards, informed by my theology. What I believe is right for my writing doesn’t have to agree with what you believe is right for your writing.”
Mike: Agreed.
Becky: “I honestly don’t care if the CBA starts publishing R-rated books or not. ”
Mike: Seriously?
Becky: “I believe Christians can and should engage our culture. If God directs a writer to do so through story, I don’t think that we accomplish this work of engaging by being unidentifiably the same as non-Christian writers.”
Mike: Agreed. But does allowing R-rated elements into a story automatically make one “unidentifiably non-Christian”???
Becky: “We ought to be writing in a substantively different way, not an externally different way. But writing in an externally similar way doesn’t mean we are reaching our culture.”
Mike: Huh? External similarity and difference means what exactly?
Becky: “The bottom line for me is, if you think you can glorify God by writing a story with cussing, swearing, and overt sex scenes, then write your story and publish with a general market house.”
Mike: If those are my only options — although “cussing, swearing, and overt sex scenes” is YOUR caricature — it explains why Christian fiction remains “ghetto-ized.” Do it our way or go to the general market!
Becky: “From what you say, Mike, it sounds as if you believe it is impossible for a Christian to write for non-Christians without including swearing and sex scenes. ”
Mike: Absolutely not! Where’d you get that from? Your assumption is the one I’m contending: that fiction can’t be “Christian” if it contains “swearing and sex scenes.”
Becky: “I think you are selling readers short. You think they care about things that they don’t care about. ”
Mike: I think readers care about a fun story, compelling characters and plot, etc. I don’t think they’re NEARLY as concerned about language or sex (to a point) as you are.
Becky: “We agree readers want a good story, but I continue to contend that swearing and sex scenes don’t make a good story. They aren’t even required of a good story. ”
Mike: You’re right, “swearing and sex scenes don’t make a good story.” However, the ABSENCE of “swearing and sex scenes [also doesn’t] make a good story.” Neither does the PRESENCE of “”swearing and sex scenes” automatically make a bad story.
‘This intellectual “engagement” is much of what I see as lacking in our industry.’
We are talking fiction here, but on the nonfiction side of the industry, isn’t ‘engaging’ postmoderns via culture all the rage now, particularly in the Emergent movement? (I’m sympathetic with the Emergent movement, to a point. That point being when they start rewriting the gospel.)
It seems to me, based on the nonfiction books that are best-sellers, that Christians are okay with bad theology in their nonfiction. Yet speculative fiction is too “edgy” for the CBA audience.
The social gospel is bad theology, and yet it’s all over the place. As well as “name-it claim-it”, prosperity gospel, draw a circle around it, yada yada. Why aren’t Christians forcing Christian bookstores to throw that kind of rubbish out?
I rambled off topic a bit there.
I dunno. I’m starting to think the industry suffers from multiple personality disorder.
Perhaps this new breed of Christian spec fic authors can start by having one personality. A piece. How about each writer uses their own unique voice and personality rather than plugging into the collective’s notion of how we should act and what we should write.
My apologies for the ramble.
Feeling a bit OCD tonight. But I wanted to clarify (for myself mostly) that there is a difference between “bad theology” within a work of fiction and “bad theology” as it relates to the creative process. I think Mike’s talking about the latter, which is why my above comment went somewhat off course, though not totally. The question I now have is, what errant Biblical interpretation (bad theology) leads believers to laud nonfiction (even when it’s unBiblical) while at that same time revile “weird” fiction?
Jessica, you wrote:
The question I now have is, what errant Biblical interpretation (bad theology) leads believers to laud nonfiction (even when it’s unBiblical) while at that same time revile “weird” fiction?
I think you’ve asked a great question. The popular, unBiblical non-fiction that works for people presents itself as cool, current, and politically correct. It has a veneer of intellectual sheen, but like any veneer, once you’ve cut through the surface (deliberately or accidentally), you find there’s not much (if anything) underneath that’s of high quality. I don’t think that you will find any single point of bad theology in the creative process that is common to all of the writing industry unless it is a lack of rigorous thought beneath the intellectual veneer.
As for why Christians don’t force Christian bookstores to throw out social gospel and prosperity gospel teachings, I’d think the answer was obvious. Christians buy that rubbish, because they want to feel good about themselves, and they don’t (for the most part) want to engage deeply in thinking about what these aberrant gospel messages really mean to the integrity of the true gospel. Christian bookstores keep what sells and throw out what doesn’t sell.
I guess the question then must be asked: Can Christian SpecFic writers write stuff that reflects a great deal of intellectual rigor and brings readers to the Truth without forcing them to think too hard about what they (the readers) believe and why?
Robert wrote, “I don’t think that you will find any single point of bad theology in the creative process that is common to all of the writing industry unless it is a lack of rigorous thought beneath the intellectual veneer.”
Not sure if I’m following your full meaning so far as “in the creative process”, but this comment touches on the very subject of a post I’ve scheduled to come out next Tuesday on my personal blog. I think there *is* a single point of bad theology that is behind the problems in Christian fiction.
Not sure how to boil it down into a sentence (I barely touch the tip of the iceberg even in my blog post), but it’s something about how we misunderstand the salvation and sanctification process. How we therefore mess up the evangelistic approach to reaching people. And this same issue with who and what we are (as humans, and later as believers) affects the “standards” that are applied in the CBA. And affects the effectiveness of those stories. Somehow, it’s at the heart of most of my discontent with Christian fiction.
Because of all that (and regardless of all that), we need to know why we write. Are we writing for the delight of believers? Are we writing to persuade unbelievers? Are we seeking to be salt and light and spread a God-centered worldview through the stories we tell? All those things (and more) are great reasons to write fiction.
And if we aren’t writing for believers specifically, then it’s likely we don’t belong in the CBA as it currently stands. And it’s why our fiction is rejected while the non-fiction is embraced.
Christians who think like the edgy non-fiction authors aren’t reading fiction in the CBA. They aren’t looking for “safe entertainment”. Their audience isn’t, either. The people buying books from (and running) the CBA don’t want edgy. They want safe. Sanitized. Lowest-common-denominator (doctrinally) fiction. Some of it is brilliant. Moving. Lyrical. But still acceptable within a certain boundary — a boundary embraced by believers, not the lost.
Late to the party. 🙂
If I’m reading Mike right, and he can correct me if I’m wrong, the issue he’s addressing isn’t so much about bad theology in our writing. For one thing, none of us are, by nature, inerrant in our writing, theology, or *interpretations* of the inerrant Bible. None of our novels are inerrant, nor will they even 100% reflect the author’s theology on all points. When I see something I consider bad theology in a novel, I know it could be there for any number of reasons: the author believes it, the character believes it, the agent believes it, the editor believes it, or the author didn’t intend to convey that theological message, it was a mistake.
In the end, our books are not the Bible and shouldn’t be treated as such. Especially fiction. I’m not saying theological content is not important for the author to think through and in the context of the overall story, to convey truth as they understand it consistently as best they can. Only that none of us will agree what that theology should be in all regards, and none of us will perfectly reflect our own theology in every point of a story. Think how many points a reader gets from your story that you never intended to put in there.
No, the worse thing we could do content wise is to have one “theology” upon which all writers must fit into if their stories are deemed to be Christian. Sure, there are boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed to stay in the Christian camp. But if those boundaries are drawn narrower and narrower to placate one group or view, we can end up using our fiction to bicker over who’s right and who’s wrong while disengaging from those we really need to reach. In effect, isn’t that what many of us have accused the CBA of doing? Reducing the theological boundaries to effectively target one group who believes a certain way?
No, I don’t think Mike is referring to the theological content of our stories. That’s a worthy topic, but not what I see him addressing here. Rather, the theology of our art, and how it engages our world. An example of theology in that framework would be someone who thinks having an allegorical Jesus in a story will convince readers to accept Christ. It can happen, but theologically, how? And what is the message conveyed to the world? How does that message meet the average reader where they are, and get them to really see the truth, whatever the truth is you’re trying to convey? IOW, have we thought through our methodology and theology on how this can happen?
What I think most people do, and this is where I see Mike going with this, is our theology of art is simply to take what is working in secular art, and Christianize it. Most of us probably have not thought through many of these issues, so go with a popular concept. “Oh, dystopian is in. I’ll write my own version of an end-times novel,” and that’s about as far as we go with thinking through how we approach relating Christianity in a way that engages the target audience…if we’ve even thought about our target audience at all. Instead, “God gave me this story” may be the totality of their intellectual rigor in how they are going to make a difference with their story.
To illustrate, it is the difference between trying to hit a target without turning on the light. Good luck, but you’re mostly going to miss. And maybe injure someone in the process.
That’s in large part why my working goal (compared to my ultimate goal) in writing fiction is to shake up preconceived ideas and offer fresh perspectives. I don’t know yet how effectively I’m doing that, but that seemed to be Jesus’ approach in reaching people, both in parables and direct confrontation. He was always challenging the accepted but theologically incorrect behaviors and teachings by doing an end-run around their preconceived ideas. Even with His disciples. To the degree I can do that, I’ll be successful in reaching my ultimate goal.
One snide comment:
How in the world do you “engage with Postmodernism in a way that looks genuine”?
😉
Nice catch, Matthew. It only needs to LOOK genuine, I guess, not actually BE genuine. 😆
Becky
And since postmodernism is so aware and referential, I’m not sure that it can be genuine. Except for those moments when it gets over itself for a brief amount of time and legitimately mourns its confusion. That is about the only legitimately genuine aspect to postmodernism.
Anyways.
I hadn’t really thought about that, but I can see what you’re saying, Matthew. There’s a “look, I’m looking at me looking” aspect of postmodernism that does make it hard to connect.
It would be interesting to see how much of the “new spirituality” Ravi Zacharias talks about in his most recent book Why Jesus? has influenced or is influenced by postmodernism. I say this because one of the problems postmodernism has with Christianity is the idea of the absolute. God, if He is absolute, in this way of thinking, still can’t be know in an absolute way. So to call Him sovereign or supreme or authoritative is colored by our understanding of those terms and therefore militates against the reality of a Sovereign, Supreme, Authoritative Absolute.
Becky
I think you are absolutely right. 🙂
Yes, the problem that our postmodern society has with absolutes is the problem that African Americans face when they talk about race with a room of Caucasians (to use the correct terms, as if that sanitizes the issue). On one hand, the issue may be the most dear issue that they believe—but they must deal with fear and doubt. Skepticism is not a healthy attitude. It’s a nice word for distrust. It comes from being hurt too often.
And the hallmark for postmodernism is skepticism. Or critical thinking. Or whatever you want to call it. It’s not healthy. It’s not based on discovery. It’s based in doubt and distrust.
Our society has been sold a bill of goods in the ideology that it has inherited as a context within which to live. Not Christianity—no, this ideology is a bizarre mix of both Christian and pagan ideas. With the eclectic context, of course our lives do not make sense.
People will try to make sense of their lives. They will search for a truth in the milieu of contradictory ideas—any truth on which to hang on to—to make sense of this life. We look for truth; we latch onto ideas until they are proven wrong: no wonder we have become a skeptical culture. Our minds are open to anything, and closed, very closed to one truth.
And yet if we’d just step outside the chaos of our context, and examine God’s truth for ourselves, weigh the evidence… we must admit that the evidence is at least compelling.
At the end of the day (which it most definitely is—feeling the end of the week badly), there is one Truth behind the crazy mess of ideas. Let us not wrongfully hold onto our deified perception, claiming that it is truth that must bend, but instead let us humbly acknowledge objective truth exists and do our best to seek that, as we have the strength, cognition, and inspiration to do so.
Perhaps the great God of creation—the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ—will grant us insight. May He deal mercifully with our weak vessels.
I’m late to the party.
Aristotle is said to have said something along the lines of “being educated / having an educated mind is being able to fully contemplate a thought without embracing it.” I’m half asleep and don’t want to look it up, but going with the general idea I’d have to say that I’m kind of tired of seeing this purported conversation about intellectual rigor devolve into yet another pondering of whether or not we can have soapy language and show unmarried people kissing in their underwear.
Any reader of spec Fic who is PAYING ANY SORT OF ATTENTION AT ALL can see how mainstream spec Fic grapples with issues.
–conflicting and overlapping theologies in GRRM, who did close to Mir’s suggested reworking of the Trinity with his Seven in a Song Of Ice And Fire
–pretty much all of _the Stand_, which I’m glad to see Mike having read after I and others begged him to
–Lois McMaster Bujold, again reworking Roman Catholicism with her five-fold Godhead in _Curse of Chalion_ and presenting far better than ANY CHRISTIAN BOOK I’VE EVER READ the nature and quandary of suffering as a tool of serving God.
–How a lack of faith drives warlike compulsions in society in John Scalzi’s _Old Man’s War_.
I could go on and on. There is a lifetime of philosophical questions to ponder in mainstream spec Fic. A lot of intellectual rigor that moves the conversation out of the tedious bickering over tedious detail.
I’m joining Mike in reading _A Cast Of Stones_, but I have to be honest. I’ve seen Becky Miller say for years now that it’s unfair to dismiss Christian Fiction unless you’ve read it lately. Then she gives examples of the New And Improved Christian Fiction. And I ALWAYS try one. And it’s always as subpar as it ever was. Always.
The only Spec Fic I’ve liked from Faith-directed publishing has come from Splashdown. Everything else that I’ve tried has been at best a B-.
Christian Spec Fic will never gain anything close to intellectual rigor as long as it’s so self-conscious and so insular. Many of these books read as though the author has never read anything general market in their life. Many of them read like they aspire to nothing more than reconstituting the dry bones of JRRT and CSL.
“–Lois McMaster Bujold, again reworking Roman Catholicism with her five-fold Godhead in _Curse of Chalion_ and presenting far better than ANY CHRISTIAN BOOK I’VE EVER READ the nature and quandary of suffering as a tool of serving God.”
YES. And also, Megan Whalen Turner in her Queen’s Thief series, which has some of the best and truest statements about faith and the will of God (or the gods, in her particular pantheon) that I’ve read in literature anywhere. Again, not a professing Christian as far as I know, but she nails it.