Science fiction, fantasy, and faith: Part 6

(Part 5 is here.)

An author whose name has come up (here) is Stephen R. Donaldson (1947-), best known for his Thomas Covenant trilogies. Donaldson is the son of Presbyterian missionary parents, and grew up in India. Apparently the epiphany that he wanted to be a writer came when he was sitting in a church pew one Sunday. Donaldson's father treated people with leprosy in India, and this gave him the idea of making his protagonist, Covenant, a leper. I don't know if Donaldson himself has a faith commitment these days, but the Covenant books are replete with references to the Bible (as well as The Lord of the Rings). Thomas, like his biblical namesake, is a cynic and skeptic who calls himself 'The Unbeliever' when he is confronted by seemingly impossible events. He finds himself in a fantasy world where he is hailed as a saviour figure, where he must combat an evil ruler, Lord Foul. There are giants, and higher creatures called 'Elohim,' and Lord Foul has three demonic sidekicks which can possess others.

It's been a long time since I read the (first six) Covenant books, so my memory's a bit rusty. I remember being captivated by the first three, particularly The Illearth War, but at the same time found the plot somewhat laboured and the angst thick enough to choke on (it gets pretty bad in the second trilogy). I'm not sure if Donaldson is trying to make any points about religion. Covenant refuses to believe in himself or his world, and seems determined to deal with things through mundane, 'secular' means. However, I got the sense that this had more to do with fantasy and imagination than with religion per se. In the end, Good triumphs, partly through the power of laughter, and Covenant and the land find a measure of redemption.

Roger Zelazny (1937-1995) was an important figure in '60s New Wave science fiction, who won three Nebulas and six Hugos. Zelazny was an atheist, but his books are chock-full of gods, immortals, and mythological references (not only did he beat Neil Gaiman to the punch, but he makes him look rather tame) . He once wrote that if science fiction authors had been around five hundred years ago, they would have been theologians. His Amber books, about a royal, immortal family who live at one of the poles of reality (of which there are innumerable alternate reflections) are highly enjoyable. His wonderful novel Lord of Light deals with people who set themselves up as tyrannical Hindu deities, and who are undone by a colleague who sets himself up as a Buddha (there's also a Christian chaplain who has his own plans). Creatures of Light and Darkness is a psychedelic romp through Egyptian (with dashes of Greek, Norse, and even Christian) myth.

His award-winning novellas "The Doors of His Face, The Lamps of His Mouth," and "A Rose for Ecclesiastes" both hinge on biblical references. The latter story deals with a cynical atheist named Gallinger, a translator of ancient texts. He goes to Mars to translate the religious works of the Martian race, which is sterile and dying out. Realizing how they can be saved, he attempts to show them the way, but is met with a resigned fatalism. He preaches an impassioned sermon, using the Book of Ecclesiastes to convince them that life should go on. They change their minds, but Gallinger later realizes that this is partly due to the fact that he has unknowingly fulfilled one of their ancient prophecies. This is a recurring theme in Zelazny's work: hard-bitten unbelievers who wind up becoming important religious figures in spite of themselves and learn a measure of humility in the process.

I wonder if anyone can help me out with Fletcher Pratt (1897-1956). He was reportedly a Christian Scientist. He was mainly a journalist and military historian who was renowned for his one-volume history of the American Civil War, Ordeal by Fire. However, pretty much the only book of his I've read (several times) is his 1948 fantasy novel, The Well of The Unicorn. It's a mature exploration of politics, military strategy, magic, and sex, which is set in a vaguely familiar fantasy world - vaguely familiar because it draws on real places and events. The Vulkings are something like Romans; the heathen Dzik are something like Muslims; the Empire is something like the Holy Roman Empire. What I recently remembered and began puzzling over is what the peace-bringing Well of the Unicorn stands for - it occurs to me that it may represent baptism, or Communion. In medieval symbolism, unicorns sometimes stood for Christ. If anyone else has read this and would like to offer ideas, I'd be much obliged (once I've moved I'll have to dig out my copy and re-examine it.)

I wanted to mention a fantasy work by Jewish author Susan Shwartz (1949-): The Grail of Hearts. Reviews are mixed, but I found it interesting. It connects the story of Parsifal and the Grail (mostly as told by Wagner, but with less Schopenhaeur) with that of the Wandering Jew, and that of Christ, in a fairly respectful way.

I also want to recommend an old favorite of mine: Neuromancer, by William Gibson (1948-). Gibson is famous enough to need no introduction from me. His works are gritty cyberpunk but have always struck me as being full of a yearning for transcendence. While this yearning usually takes Eastern forms, it's worthwhile looking at the Rastafarians in Neuromancer. To some degree their role in the book is as postmodern representatives of a mutation of the Western biblical religions. (To be sure, Rastafari is a new religion, but there are enough similarities to Christianity that some factions have joined the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Reggae and dub music are saturated with biblical references, so much so that a number of devout Christian and Jewish artists have felt quite at home in the styles.)

Finally, if you're looking for good anthologies of religiously informed sf & fantasy, I can recommend a few:

Sacred Visions, edited by Andrew Greeley and Michael Cassutt, is a top-notch collection of Catholic-themed science fiction. It's good because it includes Anthony Boucher's "The Quest for Saint Aquin," Robert Silverberg's "The Pope of the Chimps," R.A. Lafferty's "And Walk Now Gently Through The Fire," and Gene Wolfe's "The Seraph From Its Sepulchre." It has the original short story version of James Blish's "A Case of Conscience," and the first segment of Miller's "A Canticle for Leibowitz." Jack McDevitt's "Gus" is a theologically sophisticated story about a self-aware computerized Augustine, which really makes me wonder about McDevitt's background. Some of the stories are merely average, and there's one real stinker: Greeley's "Xorinda the Witch." I recommend you skip that one. Don't waste your otherwise valuable time.

I was pleasantly surprised by 1998's Divine Realms: Canadian Science Fiction & Fantasy, a collection of stories with spiritual and religious themes. I was amazed at how many contemporary, mainstream authors were willing to write openly in this vein (and also by the number that declared themselves Christians). A highlight was Donna Farley's great little story "Thanksgiving Day at the Temple," about a religious alien who finds himself out of place on a mostly secularized Earth. Farley's the only Eastern Orthodox sf writer I've encountered to date!

I'll finish this section with an older collection, Other Worlds, Other Gods: Adventures in Religious Science Fiction, from 1971. It was edited by a fellow with the unlikely name of Mayo Mohs. It includes a few forgotten classics from the '40s and '50s, as well as Boucher's "Balaam" and Clarke's "The Nine Billion Names of God." It also features one of Philip Jose Farmer's Father John Carmody stories, and two anti-religious tales by well-known authors: "Evensong," by Lester Del Ray, and "Shall the Dust Praise Thee?" by Damon Knight. It concludes on an optimistic note, however, with Ray Bradbury's poem "Christus Apollo."

Okay! I think next time I'll mention a few aggressively anti-religious sf & fantasy works, as well as catch up on authors I've forgotten this time around.

(Part 7 is here.)