The Book That Made Your World - Vishal Mangalwadi

The Book That Made Your World: How the Bible Created the Soul of Western Civilization (Mangalwadi, 2011)

With passion and precision, Indian philosopher and Christian apologist Vishal Mangalwadi makes the case that the Bible is the source for almost every moral, humane, and liberating social and scientific development of modern times.

I tried to formulate a snappy list of brief summaries, but you can get that from the back of the book. For me, the strength of the book lies in Mangalwadi's keen eye for contrast of worldviews. Time after time he illustrates how the religious worldview of a people shapes their values, which in turn determines how (or if) they try to change their world. In ancient India and China, Mangalwadi maintains, there was no shortage of intelligent, creative people, yet science, medicine, technology, political freedom, and education did not flourish until the West brought it in through so-called "cultural imperialism". The ideas of karma, caste, detachment, and Nirvana specifically hamper humanitarian developments or social improvements, since people are getting what the universe decided they deserve, and all the material world is unimportant anyway. Contrast that with the Judeo-Christian worldview that God created the world and said that it was good; that God created man in His own image, male and female, and pronounced them good as well; that creation was given to humans to steward. If those things are true, then there is impetus (even obligation) to learn more about the created world and to care for and elevate all humans.

The most striking example is a story Mangalwadi tells from when he and his wife worked in a mission in rural India. Some of the mission workers noticed a malnourished baby girl in the village and offered to help with medical treatment, but the parents fought it tooth and nail. They viewed the child, their fourth, as a burden on them; as they saw it, it was better for her to die young. What shocked the missionaries was that the whole village agreed with the parents that it was wrong to keep the child alive. The conflicting attitudes of the village and the missionaries sharply illustrate the consequences that come from our basic assumptions about life and its meaning.

I would recommend this book to anyone, but especially to those who have had the misfortune to take a Western Civilization class in college. I thought my Western Civ class was alright, but after reading Mangalwadi, I want to call up my alma mater and ask for my money back.

Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 contrasting worldviews

The Song of Roland

The Song of Roland (Anonymous, 1040-1115?)

One of the oldest surviving works of French literature, The Song of Roland tells a bloody tale of the battle of Roncesvals in 778 AD between Charlemagne's rear guard commanded by the knight Roland and an overwhelming horde of Saracens.

The plot, story, and characters are very simple here.  What is astonishing is the epic superhero-like violence. Single sword strokes cleave through armor and bodies, from the top of the head to the back of the horse the victim is riding. Single knights slaughter hundreds of opponents before falling themselves. Roland and others take mortal wounds as if they were child's play, only succumbing after receiving about ten or eleven coups de grace.  As the heros fall, pathos is evident, especially in Roland's final lament as he goes among the dead, near death himself, and bids goodbye to his fallen friends. The simplicity and barbarity of the tale still manage to convey artistry and emotion.

Above everything else, this epic poem reminded me of a period of "Christianity" I like to ignore - the Crusades.  Charlemagne is basically waging jihad against the Muslims in the name of Christ. When a Saracen falls, we are told how devils from hell issue up to take his soul down, and the Christian knights are exhorted to earn holy glory by slaying the heathen and sending even more of them to hell. When peace is proposed, Roland is adamant against it, saying that peace and compromise are sin, while continued extermination is the only blessed course.  I guess it's good to be reminded of how badly Christianity was misused for political and worldly ends, but talk about your Dark Ages.

Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 epic sword strokes

The Once and Future King - T. H. White

The Once and Future King (White, 1958)

If you valiantly soldier through Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur, you owe it to yourself to read this book not too long afterwards.  On the other hand, if you haven't read Malory, this book might come off as rather confusing... The Once and Future King is as much a loving exposition and valiant defense of Malory as it is a strikingly original fantasy classic.

This book is actually a collation of three short novels published in the 1930s, plus a concluding fourth written in the 1950s.  The first two novels, The Sword in the Stone and The Queen of Air and Darkness, are very original works focusing on the childhood and early youth of Arthur.  The Sword in the Stone practically defines the Disney animated film before it even existed as a cultural genre: whimsical tone, talking animals, dancing flatware, silly magic, and cheeky modern dialogue inserted in the mouths of ancient characters. It's no wonder Disney scooped it up... Yet this playfulness mixes with a slightly academic presentation - White dissects a joust (expanding on Malory's stock descriptive phrases), discourses on falconry, and works through serious thought on right and wrong during Merlyn's lessons for the Wart.

The whimsy (or even glibness) of Sword darkens for its sequel, which focuses on the childhood of Gawain and his brothers and the founding of the Round Table. The Ill-Made Knight (part three) takes its title from Malory (Le Chevalier Mal Fet) and is almost a straight retelling of all the Lancelot stories in Le Morte D'Arthur. Though this section is the least original, White masterfully shapes Malory's disjointed narrative into a coherent tale without doing much violence to it (other than making a few obviously sensible revisions, like merging the two Elaines). Finally, The Candle in the Wind retells (again with few if any revisions) the last days of the Table, up until the night before Arthur's final battle.  That last night, Arthur examines his life, trying to find out why his quest to bring peace ended with catastrophe.

As a whole, the novel deals with childhood, learning, love, friendship, faith, history, government, war and peace, and might versus right. White's characterizations of Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot, Mordred, Pellinore, and the rest evoke mirth, subtlety, empathy, and tragedy. Sweeping panoramas of history crop of here and there, revealing impressive scholarship. Philosophically, White tries for something grand at the end, some solution to war and violence in the world, but his conclusion falls flat for me - he digs deep into human nature, but his conclusion (eliminate wars by eliminating borders) completely ignores the human facts of sin, greed, and power he uses to undermine other proposed solutions. It still makes for a great read, and it shines a powerful light on the inner strength of its narrative source: Le Morte D'Arthur.

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 loving expositions

Idylls of the King - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Idylls of the King (Tennyson, 1885)

Taking Malory and others as his source, Tennyson crafts an epic series of poems in blank verse that capture grand ideals and regal melancholy. Using the hypnotic sway of his seemingly effortless marching meter, he gracefully retells and reshapes the stories into a less mystical, more realistic adaptation that focuses on the characters rather than the deeds.

Greater minds than mine have analyzed Tennyson's poetic talent, so I will restrict my stylistic comments to this - the poems have a natural ebb and flow, differing only in rhythm from prose narrative one minute, bursting forth in song at emotional moments the next.  Take this moment when Enid stands bravely against a thug who, assuming her husband Geraint is dead, is trying to take her for himself:

"In this poor gown my dear lord found me first,
And loved me serving in my father's hall;
In this poor gown I rode with him to court,
And there the Queen array'd me like the sun;
In this poor gown he bade me clothe myself,
When now we rode upon this fatal quest
Of honor, where no honor can be gain'd;
And this poor gown I will not cast aside
Until himself arise a living man,
And bid me cast it. I have griefs enough;
Pray you be gentle, pray you let me be.
I never loved, can never love but him.
Yea, God, I pray you of your gentleness,
He being as he is, to let me be."

The current carries the reader along in a unique way, with an intentionality of syllable and sound that marks these tales as epic poetry while still allowing them to be read almost as a novel.

Indeed, the narrative virtues here should not be overlooked, as Tennyson interweaves several subtle and intelligent symbols, themes, and plot elements worthy of the best Victorian novelist. The nuances of the characters, the masterfully shifting tone, and the placement of action weave the tales together into a work of maturity and purpose. In part an elegy for his own England, Tennyson idealizes the court of Arthur without white-washing its sins. Optimistic stories like Gareth and Lynette and Geraint and Enid gradually give way before the poignant tragedy of Lancelot and Elaine or the King Lear-like dissolution of The Last Tournament. Tennyson shows us hearts blooming into love fulfilled and dying with love disappointed.

Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 subtle and intelligent symbols

Le Morte D'Arthur - Sir Thomas Malory

Le Morte D'Arthur (Malory, 1485)

Itself a compilation and translation of myriad earlier works, Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur is the source of most of today's Arthurian fiction, and it was certainly Pyle's source. Though I had no right to call Pyle's prose liturgical; compared to this, he's a regular James Joyce.  Malory's prose narrative ("the wholle booke of Arthur", as he wanted to title it) is chopped, brittle, repetitive, confusing, certainly archaic, but truly fascinating and ultimately rewarding.

There are several different levels on which one could enjoy this work.  The vocabulary alone makes this worth a read: where else can we encounter lost words like bisene, maugre, froward, hight, dight, and pight?  Or lost usages like medley (battle), maiden (pure young man), siege (seat, chair), or (before), glamour (magic spell), and churl (simple peasant, no negative connotation)?

Another enjoyable approach to this book is to take it as a catalog of common characters, plots, genres, and other modern-day storytelling elements we take for granted. Within the pages I find traditional fantasy adventures - slaying giants, rescuing maidens, shape-shifting, casting spells, retrieving enchanted objects which bestow power - alongside the modern sports movie, war movie, superhero movie, and political drama, complete with James Bond one-liners and a goofy buddy sidekick. One story involves Lancelot fighting a knight with one hand tied behind his back.  Then we get to the quest for the Holy Grail, and the brilliant, gorgeous allegorical images steep us into the best of medieval visionary literature.

Perhaps my favorite angle from which to take Le Morte D'Arthur is as a study in what makes a story good, and in what scuttles a good story. Malory's prose is very literal, at times a bare recitation of events and plot points in quick succession.  Given such a limited sphere to work in, we still see real human emotion, psychology, and folly shine through in the facts of the stories, and the bits that show a glimmer of storyteller's art shine forth stunningly.

On the flip side, Malory seems to show little concern for what we would consider the modern storyteller's responsibilities.  Several episodes are abandoned mid-plot - even the fate of Sir Tristram, whose adventures form the basis of the middle third of the book, is only revealed in a narrative aside several hundred pages later. Key plot points which will affect other stories down the line are only experienced as foreshadowing or in a quick backward glance - "By the way, Sir Lamork was slain traitorously by Sir Gawain after the tournament."  Also, though the book starts with Arthur's birth and ends with his death, everything in between occurs in a highly jumbled timeline.  For example, during an early battle to quell rebellion in England, Arthur wields Excalibur and leads his knights of the Round Table against the foe. Later, Arthur obtains Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake. After that, he establishes the Round Table for the first time...  Character names are repeated, and many characters, plots, and events come in twos or threes.  There are two swords in the stone, two ladies of the lake, two different injured kings in the Grail story (injured by two different dolorous strokes), two different high political love triangles, countless mysterious boats that come floating in out of nowhere, and several pseudo-Merlins who fill his role after he makes his inglorious exit. This widespread disorganization and confusion makes for a very challenging read, yet it is also exhilirating.  And it makes those odd moments of clarity and intentionality stand out even more.

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 glimmers of the storyteller's art

The Story of King Arthur and His Knights - Howard Pyle

The Story of King Arthur and His Knights (Pyle, 1903)

Pyle retells classic Arthurian legends while adding some tales of his own. The Story of King Arthur covers the fabled beginnings:  the sword in the stone, the getting of Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake, the wooing of Guinevere, and the establishment of the Round Table.

Again, Pyle's prose is enchanting. Using the same semi-olde style from Robin Hood, he mixes an almost liturgical descriptive style ("and the two knights came together, and the sound of their horses was like thunder, then they burst their spears upon their shields") with poetic, enchanting descriptions of scenery and landscapes. Grand pageantry and pastoral idylls mix freely with knightly combat and mystical magic.

Most of the episodes include a somewhat didactic ending, deriving the moral of the story for young readers, but these morals are typically spot-on, and they add charm to the story. There is plenty of action, intigue, and danger, and the characters are nuanced with real faults and foibles. The "noble" Arthur going incognito as a gardener's boy proves a worthless and insubordinate employee, and his "noble" knights treat him like a nobody before they realize who he is. Sir Gawaine begrudgingly agrees to wed an old woman who saved Arthur's life, and Sir Pellias lets himself be captured repeatedly by lesser knights hoping to catch a glimpse of their lady, his love. The stories are instantly engrossing and eminently entertaining.

Pyle would go on to write three other Arthur books, which I will keep on my radar. Such enjoyable reading is hard to come by.

Arbitrary rating:  4 out of 5 fabled beginnings

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood - Howard Pyle

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (Pyle, 1883)

In this classic collection, American author and illustrator Howard Pyle brings the old English folk tales and ballads of Robin Hood to life, collecting them together in a semi-unified narrative that offers blissful escape, adventure, and humor.

Perhaps the ultimate bromance, Pyle's Robin Hood is filled with brawlers who turn into buddies, merry pranks, light-hearted outlawry, and other archetypal male bonding scenarios.  Poor Maid Marian gets two mentions in passing as Robin briefly calls her to mind before moving on to some new adventure. This version is all about brotherhood, excellence in combative sport, and Robin's peculiar sense of justice. Rich, stingy fellows like the Sherrif of Nottingham and the Bishop of Hereford each have their turn footing the bill for a dinner party in Sherwood Forest, which, aside from the part where their money is removed from them, they can't help but enjoy, being in such merry company.

Though Pyle is mostly remembered today as an artist and illustrator, and indeed his black-and-white faux-medieval illustrations for Robin Hood are classics in and of themselves, his skill as a prose writer and storyteller should not be overlooked. Pyle weaves intriguing and entertaining tales with enviable ease and grace, drawing you in to the landscape and characters as naturally as a brook running through the forest.

And of course, the stories are classics:  Robin winning the Sherrif's archery tournament in disguise, Friar Tuck and Robin forcing each to give the other a piggy-back ride across a river, Little John busting the head of the Sherrif's lackey who refuses to open the kitchen for him, and diverse daring rescues of compatriots from pending execution or near incarceration. As Pyle says in his preface: "You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the land of Fancy; you who think that life hath nought to do with innocent laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you."

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 brawlers turned buddies