Search

C.S. Lewis first discovered the works of George MacDonald when he read Phantastes, A Faerie Romance, a book he “unwittingly” picked up from a bookstall before a train journey (Surprised by Joy 219). He went on to read dozens of books by MacDonald and later wrote that “the quality which had enchanted me in his imaginative works turned out to be the quality of the real universe, the divine, magical, terrifying, and ecstatic reality in which we live” (George MacDonald preface). As Lewis’s career matured, he followed in the steps of MacDonald by writing on literature and faith and, ultimately, by writing fantasy. Lewis called MacDonald his master, and their shared concept of nobility makes a fascinating study of the themes that inspired both men. These themes include the value and costliness of nobility as well as the significance of belonging to a kingdom in order to become noble. The connections between their fiction and faith reveal an idea of goodness within reach of every person. As a result, MacDonald and Lewis created a particular type of fantasy that has endured into the twenty-first century.

C. S. Lewis first discovered the works of George MacDonald when he read Phantastes, A Faerie Romance, a book he "unwittingly" picked up from a bookstall before a train journey (Surprised by Joy 219). He went on to read dozens of books by MacDonald and later wrote that "the quality which had enchanted me in his imaginative works turned out to be the quality of the real universe, the divine, magical, terrifying, and ecstatic reality in which we live" (George MacDonald preface). As Lewis's career matured, he followed in the steps of MacDonald by writing on literature and faith and, ultimately, by writing fantasy. Lewis called MacDonald his master, and their shared concept of nobility makes a fascinating study of the themes that inspired both men. These themes include the value and costliness of nobility as well as the significance of belonging to a kingdom in order to become noble. The connections between their fiction and faith reveal an idea of goodness within reach of every person. As a result, MacDonald and Lewis created a particular type of fantasy that has endured into the twenty-first century. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In his engaging volume on fairytales, George MacDonald wrote that the purpose of a fairytale is "not to give the reader things to think about, but to wake up things that are in him." By contrast, many works of art, including contemporary musical compositions, are accompanied by statements of "things to think about," such as didactic program notes by the composer on pet social justice issues. This essay explores what can be done in a piece of music to "wake up things" already in the listener. These include invoking something familiar in the musical style, using essential building blocks of beauty in constructing the music, and providing a teleology of purpose and narrative flow in the music, in contrast to modernist trends that eschew these things. The essay explores also how and why these "awakening things" can and should be accomplished. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In his 1952 essay "On Three Ways of Writing for Children", C. S. Lewis discusses three approaches to writing children's literature and defends "that particular type of children's story which is dearest to my own taste, the fantasy or fairy tale" from the charge that it is "childish". In this paper, I define Christian apologetics as "the art and science of persuasively communicating and advocating Christian spirituality across spiritualties, through the responsible use of rhetoric, as being objectively beautiful, good and true/reasonable" and see how Lewis' advice about the rhetoric of children's stories can be generalized and applied to the discipline of Christian apologetics. In particular, many atheists charge Christian Spirituality with being childish. For example, British atheist Richard Dawkins says that religious people "have their Bronze Age myths, medieval superstitions and childish wishful thinking" (Dawkins, Scientific American). Describing his own childhood, Dawkins says: "I think I did believe it up to the age of eight or nine, when preachers said if you really, really pray for something it can happen. Even moving mountains, I believed it could really happen... I grew up. I put away childish things." (Dawkins, "Claims Fairy Tales Are Harmful To Children") In this paper I explore how the dialectical moves made by Lewis in "On Three Ways of Writing for Children" can shape a rational response to such rhetoric. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

If previous variants on the Bluebeard myth can be seen as what Marina Warner has termed 'a version of the Fall in which Eve is allowed to get away with it' (1995), Catherine Breillat's 2009 adaptation of Charles Perrault's fairy tales sees Barbe bleue as Eve, his young bride, 'the serpent in the garden' (Wheatley 2010: 42). Unlike previous retellings of the Bluebeard myth by female voices such as Angela Carter's 1979 'The Bloody Chamber' and Marie-Jeanne L'Héritier's 1694 'The Subtle Princess', then, Breillat's Barbe bleue does not focus on making explicit the narrative of abusive male privilege and female vindication within the fairy tale. Instead, it takes the children's story as the starting point for an examination of sexuality and selfhood in relation to the foundational myths that fairy tales provide. This article argues that for Breillat, these stories endure because they provide social values and moral lessons which resonate through time, an approach mirrored in the ambiguous incorporation of Christian iconography and myth in her film. It is a gestural attitude (to borrow from Agamben), which is likewise suggested by a number of other film-makers working in contemporary Europe, including Mia Hansen-Løve (Le père de mes enfants, 2009), and Jessica Hausner (Lourdes, 2009). [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

An introduction is presented in which the editor discusses various reports within the issue on topics including the introduction of Christianity in Scandinavia, Lord Dunsany's "Oriental" fairy tales, and the concept of eucatastrophe.