Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Ray Bradbury's From the Dust Returned

     Sadly, only the most dedicated Bradbury fans seem to be aware of this lesser known work. In truth, as with many Bradbury novels, this work consists of short stories woven together to tell a unique tale. Without giving away too much, it is a work that has moments of whimsy and poignancy. There are characters and elements that are early Bradbury in tone and there are items that are the mature, reflective  and even philosophically poetic Bradbury. 
     The story focuses on an Illinois family distinguished by the fact that most are ghosts and other creatures. Two key characters are a mortal child Timothy, and Cecy, a creature hard to describe. While there are numerous great moments and several delightful passages of rich word craft, the scene that was most striking to me was as follows: 
     "Listen, now, let me provide the history of the rising tide of disbelief. The Judeo-Christian world is a devastation. The burning bush of Moses will not fire. Christ, from the tomb, fears to come forth should he be unrecognized by doubting Thomas. The shadow of Allah melts at noon. So Christians and Muslims confront a world torn by many wars to finalize yet a larger. Moses did not walk down the mountain for he never walked up. Christ did not die for he was never born. All this, all this mind you, is of great importance to us, for we are the reverse side of the coin toss in the air to fall heads or tails. Does the unholy or holy win? Ah, but look: the answer is neither none or what? Not only is Jesus lonely and Nazareth in ruins, but the populace at large believes in nothing. There is no room for either glorious or terrible. We are in danger, too, trapped in the tomb with an uncrucified carpenter, blown away with the burning bush as the east's Black Crucible cracks its mortar and falls. The world is at war. They do not name us the Enemy, no, for that would give us flesh and substance. You must see face or the mask in order to strike through one to deface the other. They war against us by pretending, no, assuring each other we have no flash and substance. It is a figment war. And if we believe as these disbelievers believe, we will flake our bones to litter the wins."
     This section is a stunning literary meditation comparable to Philip Rieff's Third Culture. This is a world drained of transcendence and signals of ultimate reality, where all has been eclipsed by the immediate and we dwell in a cave cold and alone. However, Bradbury's From the Dust Returned does not end with this note of despair. It is a fine read and both delightful and instructive.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Ray Bradbury's The October Game: A Different Read

    Many of Ray Bradbury's stories have enough ambiguity worked into the tale to lend them to rich varying interpretations. This does not mean that any and all readings are faithful to the story, but it can make for lively discussions and honest disagreement about the meaning of a particular story.  The October Game is such a story. Spoiler alert--I offer here a alternative reading of the story than the one given by most. If you have not read the story, read it before you make your way through this interpretation. If you have read it, please indulge me. The consensus is that at the end of the story, the audience is shocked because they see the dismembered body of 

The reading offered here is that the daughter is alive and well at the end and the shock is that she is there despite the panic and anticipated horror that something terrible had happened to her. In other words, the audience reaction is our reaction.



The best argument in favor of this reading is



The best argument in favor of the consensus is


On Reading Philip Rieff or How Tough Sociology Can Help Us Understand Us

     It has long been a conviction of mine that too many believers are too much of the world and they know not. Human cultures have a way of so becoming the atmosphere we take into our lungs that we lose sight of the truth that sometimes the air is poison. For some it is a slow death by breathing.
     Os Guinness, Peter Berger, Max Weber, and Jacques Ellul have assisted me in checking the toxicity levels, and now I need to add another--Philip Rieff. Truthfully, he is the most challenging in both the way he writes and at times what he says. Sometimes what he says is difficult to mentally grasp and other times I fear I understand him all too clearly. 
     Rieff is best known for his superlative scholarship on the life, writings, and influence (helpful and destructive) of Sigmund Freud. Rieff is one of those rare contemporary authors who is conversant with ideas and authors well beyond the bounds of his area of expertise. Reading Rieff is a full education in that one encounters Rieff's reflections and connections with cultural history, literature, the arts, philosophy, and the social sciences. In the Sacred Order/Social Order series, printed by the University of Virginia Press the reader meets a more aphoristic Rieff. I was reminded of certain writings by Friedrich Nietzsche in style much more than content
     Among the many keen insights from Rieff, his assertion that we have moved through three successive cultures is central. The first, historically speaking, is the pagan, or pre-Christian world. The second is  essentially the Christian culture with related mono-theistic religions. Rieff contends that little is left of this culture except aesthetics and weak socially assimilated institutions. And finally the present culture war, which is the third culture and is characterized by a radical skepticism and disdain for authority beyond the diminished autonomous person. This culture (not really a culture) contends vigorously against the second culture's sense of identity grounded in transcendence. However, the hallmark of this non-culture is its hollowness and crippled condition. 
     In the beginning of Vol. II(The Crisis of the Officer Class) Rieff states, "This book is written against those theorists who have sought in vain to liberate us from the sacred order by teaching that it does not exist. It is written to reveal again the eternal commonplace: there is nothing outside sacred order in the range of its authority. Authority cannot die. It can only shift up and down its veridical." So if Rieff is correct and if authority is shifting down to the level of the barbarians, time is short as we are living in the moment when we see the immanent victory of thanatos.
     I remember once reading that Max Weber was asked why he thought about the things with such depth and intensity considering it often lead him to a state of depression.  Weber responded, "I want to see how much I can stand." Reading Rieff is a bit like this, especially if Rieff is correct in his diagnosis of our social and cultural ills. On the other hand, for those who affirm belief is a transcendent sacred order, one's social order must include faith, hope, love, and joy.



Sunday, October 28, 2012

A Guide to Reading Ghost Stories

     "His was no Enlightenment mind, Kirk now became aware; it was a Gothic mind, medieval in its temper and structure. 
                      Russell Kirk, The Sword of Imagination, 68

     As J.R.R. Tolkien assisted many with his most informative essay, On Fairy Stories, Russell Kirk provides a short, but helpful primer into the genre of "ghost stories." Now, of course, reading the essay, "A Cautionary Note on the Ghostly Tale," the reader realizes that "ghost stories" are not merely about "ghosts" just as "fairy-tales" are not merely about "fairies."
     As with G.K. Chesterton's assertion in his "Ethics of Elfland," fairytales are inherently moral as they reflect a universe of moral order and consequences when good is dismissed and evil embraced. Russell Kirk writing of his own ghost stories says, "What I have attempted, rather, are experiments in the moral imagination. Readers will encounter elements of parable and fable...literary naturalism is not the only path to apprehension of reality. All-important literature has some ethical end; and the tale of the preternatural...can be an instrument for the recovery of moral order." The key here is the ethical end toward which great literature often aims, but has been rejected in our own moment.
     Just as in the natural order there are laws that must be yielded to, in "ghost stories" there is a parallel principal within the supernatural order.  These accompanying laws have equally real results when adhered to or when dismissed. Again Kirk, "The better uncanny stories are underlain by healthy concept of the character of evil. Defying nature, the necromancer conjures up what ought not to rise again this side of Judgment Day. But these dark powers do not rule the universe: by bell, book, and candle, symbolically at least, we can push them down under."
     For Kirk, the "ghost tale" may better communicate certain truths when compared to science fiction. "For symbol and allegory, the shadow–world is a better realm than the mechanized empire of science fiction." It is so important to stress here, for the reader of this blog that the realities these stories speak of are not merely symbol or allegory, as it is the case that a symbol (by he nature of being a symbol) points to or hints at a reality beyond itself. In other words, an allegory is parallel to something that is really real beyond itself. If this is not the case, then allegories and symbols merely refer to other symbols and allegories and the mirror maze becomes a prison.
     Additionally, Russell Kirk gives further insight into another value of the "ghost tale" which is also true of liberal arts grounded in fine letters. "The story of the supernatural or mystical can disclose aspects of human conduct and human longing to which the positivistic psychologist has blinded himself." The human heart longs for "transcendent perception" and "arcane truths about good and evil" that answers questions we have about the meaning and truth of things. Kirk adds, "as a literary form, then, the uncanny tale can be a means for expressing truths enchantingly." Many are drawn to this literary genre as it affirms what most of us know, and that is the truth that our senses are not capable of apprehending all that was, is, or will be. While the 'scientists' or 'materialists' will not acknowledge it, 'nature' is something more than mere fleshly sensation, and that something may lie above human nature, and something below it–-why, the divine and the diabolical rise up again in serious literature."
     So the scientists, mechanists, or fundamentalist who resists these tales of transcendence, should more resist the ignorant order that loses touch of the ultimate reality to which these parables are set next to and offer a glimpse into. It is our narrow, shallow, and hollow view of reality that should be resisted by those of us drawn to the dark, scary, and mysterious stories that point us to what is.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Ray Bradbury: A Bright Life That Burned Right


NOTE: An Article I authored recently published St Austin Review, S/O 2012 V. 12, N. 5


On all lists of the best science fiction and fantasy writers of the twentieth century, Ray Bradbury is always present, and usually at the top. However, popular acclaim does not always translate into high literary craft. The discerning reader should carefully look at the full body of Bradbury’s writings to determine if all, or even some of his works, merit scholarly attention. He sub-created worlds that explored the widest range of human experiences and humane themes. Often he spoke about his dislike of being classified in genres he believed were artificial. As an author that transcended and sometimes blended narrow genre classifications, Bradbury saw himself merely as a writer. While his stories have the common features of science fiction and fantasy, these characteristics were simply functional toward the greater end of telling a fine tale about human beings being human. Even though there are dangers facing humanity, repeatedly the greatest dangers in Bradbury’s stories are not hidden on Mars, not found in big government, but common human beings who have forgotten what it means to be fully human and fully alive.  
While fiction is about a great deal more than ideas, such as the delight in the story, and the way that stories move us as humans, there are ideas and ideologies in fiction. The short stories and novels of Bradbury speak of the widest range of human experiences and ideas.  Drawing from Mortimer Adler’s list of the great ideas in humane letters, readers have noted that within Bradbury’s body of work, one encounters beauty, chance, change, citizenship, courage, custom and convention, desire, duty, emotions, eternity, evolution, experience, family, fate, God, good and evil, habit, happiness, honor, immortality, judgment, knowledge, law, life and death, love, memory and imagination, nature, opinion, opposition, philosophy, pleasure and pain, prudence, punishment, reasoning, religion, senses, sin, soul, temperance, time, truth, virtue and vice, will, wisdom, and world.
While some misguided critics have observed a Norman Rockwell nostalgia within a few of Bradbury’s works, these same critics are blind to the George Orwell echos in these same pieces. In Dandelion Wine there are indeed glimpses of old, small town USA, but within this town there is a serial killer and more than one profound statement about the loss of our humanity to the ever present technological temptation for the newer to be seen as always better. The more astute readers have noted a sense of longing co-mingled with a sense that all is not as it should be within Bradbury’s writings. Both his short stories and the collection of stories crafted into longer novels embody the reality of the fall and ever present signals of transcendence and a hoped for recovery of our garden heritage.  
While Ray Bradbury’s writings were first found in amateur and pulp magazines in the 1930’s, his stories would eventually be published by Collier’s, The Saturday Evening Post, Esquire and The New Yorker. Not a large number of twentieth century writers can claim that their works were adapted for comics, radio, television, stage and film. Many of these adaptations were scripted by Bradbury himself.  Even the film adaptations of The Martian Chronicles and Fahrenheit 451 reached a larger audience, but sadly with much of the rich literary textures and meaningful metaphors lost in translation from the book to the screen.
Reading Americans have encountered Fahrenheit 451 (Bradbury’s most recognized novel) at some point in their educational experience. Unfortunately, this great novel has been misread and misrepresented over the decades. To say this work is primarily about, or even mainly about censorship, is akin to saying that The Wizard of Oz is about a yellow brick road. There is censorship in Fahrenheit 451 as there is a yellow brick road in The Wizard of Oz, but only the most superficial reading sees book burning as the primary focus of the work. Reading “companion or parallel stories” such as “The Fireman,” “The Library,” “The Pedestrian,” “The Garbage Collector,” “The Smile,” “To the Chicago Abyss,” and “Long After Midnight” will confirm that Fahrenheit 451 is a masterpiece of dystopian fiction exploring anti-intellectualism and a loss of truth, goodness, and beauty in human civilization.
Because of these and related humane themes, Ray Bradbury’s works, as a whole, are in sustained conversation with the Great Books of the Western World.  Sometimes these connections are in the form of allusions, sometimes quotes, and sometimes homage by imitating the structure and even voice of a master author. In Fahrenheit 451 and “companion stories” set within this dystopian milieu characterized by disdain for sustained reading, thinking, and conversing, the reader is reminded of the following authors and works:  Edna St. Vincent Millay, Walt Whitman, William Faulkner, Dante Alighieri, Jonathan Swift, Gulliver’s Travels, Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Little Black Sambo, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Samuel Johnson, Edgar Allan Poe, the Bible, Job, Proverbs, Ruth, Ecclesiastes, Revelation, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Thomas Jefferson, Henry David Thoreau, Walden, Luigi Pirandello, George Bernard Shaw, John Milton, Sophocles, Aeschylus, Eugene O’Neill, John Dewey, Alexander Pope, Plato’s Republic, Charles Darwin, Arthur Schopenhauer, Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer, Aristophanes, Mahatma Gandhi, Gautama Buddha, Confucius, Thomas L. Peacock, Abraham Lincoln, Lord Byron, George Washington, Galileo Galileo, Leonardo Da Vinci, Washington Irving, John Donne, Thomas Paine, Niccolo Machiavelli, Bertrand Russell, Friedrich Nietzsche, the Magna Charta, and the Constitution. There are even story titles of Bradbury that pay literary tribute to his most beloved author Charles Dickens—“Any Friend of Nicholas Nickleby Is a Friend of Mine.”  Other stories and authors include, “The Golden Apples of the Sun” (W. B. Yeats), and “I Sing the Body Electric” (Walt Whitman).
As with other Bradbury writings, there is often an earlier life or version before the published date. While Something Wicked This Way Comes was published in 1962 (50 years ago and still in print), there were earlier kernel versions in short stories—"The Electrocution" 1946,  "The Black Ferris" 1948, a screenplay entitled "Dark Carnival" 1955, another screenplay "The Marked Bullet" 1956, as well as an unpublished first-person novel Jamie and Me. Something Wicked This Way Comes should be read as a companion story to Dandelion Wine. Even Bradbury clustered these two stories with Farewell Summer and called these the Illinois trilogy. Whether read as a moral fable, Christian allegory, or a moralistic horror tale, Something Wicked This Way Comes is a novel that should be rescued from the middle school reading list and the bin of literary obscurity and given due attention. Beyond being a masterfully crafted exploration of numerous humane themes, it is a delightful, at times, but ultimately enlightening, tale about the sin of narcissism and the possibility of human connectedness in the presence of that most damnable of sins.
         Throughout his life, Bradbury spoke often of his autodidactic formation in library stacks. This is evidenced throughout his writings that show influence by, and respect of, the adventure stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne, H. G. Wells, L. Frank Baum, Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickens, and Herman Melville. In turn, the books and stories of Ray Bradbury have been admired by figures as diverse as Bertrand Russell, Christopher Isherwood, Ingmar Bergman, John Huston, Stephen King, Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, Neil Gaiman and R.L. Stine.
As early as 1954 and as late as 2007, Ray Bradbury received prestigious awards such as the National Institute of Arts and Letters Award, two PEN/O. Henry Prizes, A National Book Foundation medal, an Emmy for the screenplay of his The Halloween Tree, and a Pulitzer citation for his extraordinary writing career. A cursory search of data about Bradbury on the world wide web will yield much contradiction. The political left and political right claim him as embracing their beliefs. In truth, we do know that he considered Ronald Reagan the greatest president, and this is coming from a man whose life spanned sixteen different presidents. Bradbury was also honored by President George W. Bush in 2004 with the National Medal of Arts.
Generally, Bradbury was not a political creature in a formal sense. His concern was with communities. People who lived, worked, laughed, cried, feared, conversed, celebrated and died together were at the heart of his writings, not ideologies and political regimes. The true, the good, and the beautiful are constantly manifested. There is also an ever present hint of the transcendent. Sometimes it is a sense of the divine, sometimes a most ominous evil, and sometimes a goodness that moves those of us who love its presence to praise the author of all goodness and truth.
Certainly a large part of what I most cherish in his fiction is the sheer celebration of the goodness of being. The very truth that we are, and that life is a gift to be treasured has been lost in much modern fiction. I have discovered an extraordinary amount in Bradbury's writings that complement and parallel Christian conviction. Bradbury is what I often refer to as "old school humanist." In other words, he affirms truth, goodness, and beauty. His works even explore, and frequently affirm, the essential nature of faith, hope, and love and other religious virtues. His characters often discuss and embody these realities. Beyond the pervasive sense of joy in many of Bradbury’s writings, reading such short stories as “The Man” and “Bless Me, Father, For I Have Sinned,” the reader is shown the most explicit sense of the residue of Bradbury’s Christian upbringing and the lingering effect of the faith on his soul.  
I begin my lectures and presentations about Ray Bradbury with a confession. The confession is simple and one of which I express a deep sense of loss and a degree of shame. I did not start reading Ray Bradbury until several years ago. I did not read him because I judged his books by their covers. I had a misinformed sense that I knew what his books would be about because the covers of his books told it all. One cannot be more wrong.  
It was an endorsement I read on a Russell Kirk book that came from Ray Bradbury. I thought, if Ray Bradbury liked Russell Kirk, and I liked Russell Kirk, then maybe, just maybe, I might appreciate Ray Bradbury. After going to the local bookstore and buying Something Wicked This Way Comes and reading it, I was hooked. My repentance then took the form of reading The Martian Chronicles and the delight and feeding of my mind was tremendous. I immediately went out and bought Fahrenheit 451, Dandelion Wine, and a collection of his short stories. I have never been the same since. As a matter of fact, every Halloween season for the past six years I've re-read Something Wicked This Way Comes, and every first day of the summer for the past several years I have re-read Dandelion Wine.  
Ray Bradbury's passing brings to my mind numerous scenes in his novels and short stories where a character comes to the realization that life is a precious gift, and that gift is to be enjoyed. On numerous occasions, Ray noted his favorite novelist Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol makes this profound point when Ebenezer Scrooge is transformed by the ghosts that had visited him. That moment of "I'm alive, I'm alive," is what it is all about in literature and life. For Bradbury's own unique twist on this, read the short story "Jack-in-the Box."
For the past few years I have been blessed to visit The Center for Ray Bradbury Studies and gain such insight of Bradbury’s life and writings from the top Bradbury scholar in the world (this is not an exaggeration), it has been equally as exhilarating giving lectures through The Big Read Events sponsored by the NEA where thousands of people read, think about, and discuss Fahrenheit 451. Even in my blogs I have a section "All Things Bradbury" as a partial testament that as a Professor of Great Books, I consider his writings as worthy to be added to the canon of the best books as any penned by modern authors.
Russell Kirk once noted with the possible exception of Roy Campbell, “the love of life burns brighter in Ray Bradbury than any other man of letters.”1 Ray Bradbury was born in Aug 22, 1920 in Waukegan, Illinois, and passed from this life in southern California on June 5, 2012.  While Ray Bradbury drifted from his childhood faith, one could easily make the case that a specifically Christian and positively religious worldview shaped the bulk of Bradbury’s works. His life and writings demonstrate an eye for the glorious all around us, and his celebration of life as a gift is to be most respected. In a key interaction between Guy Montag and Chief Beatty in Fahrenheit 451, Montag tells Beatty, “We never burned right.” In his life and fiction, Ray Bradbury burned right and leaves for all of us a literary legacy to be enjoyed and carefully studied.

1. Russell Kirk, Enemies of the Permanent Things: Observations of Abnormity in Literature and Politics (Peru: Sherwood Sugden & Company, 1984), p. 120.

Jacques Barzun Passes at 104

     Among the many words penned or spoken by the late and truly great Jacques Barzun, my favorite came in an interview where he gave his defense and definition of a Liberal Arts education. In truth, Barzun's words stand as a refutation to all who would pervert the Liberal Arts and all who would strive to extinguish the Liberal Arts.
Cultural historian Jacques Barzun, in an interview with Charlie Rose (May 29, 2000), addressed the question of the value of a liberal arts education that is specifically grounded in the Great Books and the Great Tradition of the West. Barzun responded as follows:
    Properly taught, and learned—acquired—a liberal education awakens and keeps alive the imagination. By the imagination, I don’t mean fanciful things, but I mean the capacity to see beyond the end of your nose and beyond the object in front you. That is to see its implications, its origins, its potential, its danger, its charm. All the things that enable one to navigate in this difficult and complex world with a modicum of wisdom, with calm, not be alarmed with every little thing that happens and with resources that in moments of stress, and after retirement, in illness, and loneliness keep one’s soul and body alive.

May people continue to learn from Jacques Barzun and may he Requiescat in pace.