Tuesday, February 21, 2012

February 2012 CSFF Blog Tour, Day 3 The Realms Thereunder, Ross Lawhead

At least one member of the blog tour (none other than RLM) found the episode of Daniel in Elfland the most interesting. Frankly, there is so much that one can choose from. I also found the tale delightful. It was an interesting twist in the book. Daniel does not go back to the zany subterranean world of yfelgopes, cranky wizards, and blind women on an island in a dried up ocean, stone cities, and such. The contrast could not be starker.

As soon as Daniel arrives he is aware of a potent difference, even from the normal world he had come from; it seems to be the expansiveness of the place (and as we learn later, the time too) - there is the sun in the sky, a forest on the distant horizon, a lone mountain on the other, and a vast uninhabited, unobstructed green meadow. One has the impression that there is a powerful presence there, not apart from but immanent in the world. How immanent?

Daniel heads for the forest (a contrast to the stone under-world of Niðergeard) where he is approached by Kay Marrey who informs Daniel he is in Elfland - the Faerie realms. Daniel’s experiences in this land are loaded with anticipation for the further unfolding of the story itself. Kay explains that in the Faerie realms, objects have ownership. To put it in unvarnished terms, the inanimate has personhood! The paper that Daniel was given at St. Michael's church, just before he passed through the lych-gate into Faerie land, turns out to be a leaf. 
   Kay reached into the front pocket and pulled out the slip of paper that Daniel had been given. Except now, when Kay held it, Daniel saw that it was a leaf. A large yellow oak leaf.
   “Where did that come from?” Daniel asked.
   Kay Marrey held it upright by the stem, between his thumb and forefinger. “You were given this, yes? In your world. Did you know what it was?”
   “At first, I thought it was money.”
   Kay nodded. “It is a leaf of a different wood. It was taken to your world as a way to mark and snare you.” (p 115) 
Interesting. Given that the material stuff of Elfland holds the immaterial quality of ownership, it looks as if the leaf was used by someone not to merely send Daniel to that world, but to make him a permanent vassal there. Why? And how did the one who passed it to Daniel in this world, at the church, get it? That’s important as we learn that person's identity to be one of those critters that Daniel runs into at the beginning of the novel, who obviously would be entirely out of place in Elfland - not a native inhabitant. Are there insiders there cooperating with outsiders?

There is something about Elfland that is disturbing, however. The notion of ownership by the inanimate is disturbing enough. But it goes even deeper. This comes out when Daniel reveals to Kaeyle (the stoic charcoal maker) and his wife, Pettyl (love that name!), that he has made an arrangement with the merchant, Reizger Lokkich, by which he would return to his (and our) world. Kaeyle is doubtful. 
   Kaeyle ... said to him. “Daniel, don’t do this new deal. Stay with us for the next few days and take the surer, more natural route home.”
   “No, I have to get back soon. I’ve heard my friend’s voice calling me--twice now. I just feel--I need to get back as soon as possible. She needs me.”
   “It may not be in the plan that you reach her so soon.”
   “Plan? What plan?”
   “The plan of the universe. The natural order that instructs all things, that guides the hearts of all living things.” 
Daniel is skeptical of the ‘Plan.’ Pettyl tries to explain. 
   “Don’t think of it as a plan--think of it as all of the created worlds working in an ideal state. Nothing is set, but things have a best course. Within this we may stay on our course, or travel a different one. If we go this other way, then we have made things disordered, and it may be difficult to correct after that. More, it may knock others out of alignment.” (p 308) 
This has the feel, though not the humor, of Dr. Emmett Brown warning Marty McFly that if they’re not careful they might disturb the space-time continuum and destroy the universe.

What is behind this? Deism? Panentheism? Open theism? Daniel follows the logic. 
   “...it seems to me like the universe needs a little helping hand to correct things. And if I can, then why shouldn’t I? Is it the ‘ideal state’ that good people suffer?”
   Daniel felt his blood warm and skin tingle. Things were falling into place now; it was getting clearer. “I was brought to this point by the universe--by God. This has happened to me before. Here I am, further away from my ‘ideal state’ than I’ve ever been. I’ve been put in an almost impossible situation, once again, and I know that I have the ability to win through and set things right. If there is a universal plan, then there’s no way I’m not a part of it. I’m probably the only one in this world who can fix things and the universe knows it--that’s why it brought me here. First I’ll fix this problem and then I’ll go back and fix my own.” 
There is a confusion of a personal God with an impersonal universe. Daniel is quite confused here and though there is a soul-zinging moment of clarity for him, an epiphany, and as dramatic as it is, it is an epiphany of delusion. I’m not chiding Mr. Lawhead at this point. On the contrary, it has great potential to bring the truth of the Triune God into bold relief. This is the precarious nature of Christian fantasy. It can sound like the author is advocating a pagan, non-Christian world-view, but he is not. He is setting it up for the truth to come thundering in, in due time. We will see what Mr. Lawhead does with this opportunity.

Thanks to Thomas Nelson for kindly providing a copy of The Realms Thereunder for review on the February 2012 Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour.

Ross Lawhead's Web Page
List of CSFF Blog Tour Participants
The Realms Thereunder on Amazon

Monday, February 20, 2012

February 2012 CSFF Blog Tour, Day 2 The Realms Thereunder by Ross Lawhead

There are several places in Mr. Lawhead’s novel that impinge directly upon the metaphysical and theological. Fantasy does that. Especially Christian fantasy wherein it is difficult to avoid conveying at least a minimal message to the reader. Perhaps even a subliminal one. As this is done by using the make-believe to tell us something about what is real, some Christians oppose fantasy: 
It becomes very difficult to separate fantasy from reality, especially in the minds of children. There was an interesting article in The Newhall Signal (newspaper) in light of this. Noting one of the teachings of the popular fantasy games, "Death is usually seen as a temporary state with characters returning 'from beyond' to play again..." -- from Christian Fantasy: Biblical or Oxymoron? 
I’m not sure what a fantasy (roll playing?) game has to do with the fantasy of literature, but the implication is that, especially for children, the ability to discern between fantasy and reality is difficult. In the article cited above, this point is made in the context of a broader assumption that fantasy contributes to a distorted discernment of the real. 
While God told us to continually communicate truth to our children (Deut. 6:5-7), today's culture trains children to see reality through a global, earth-centered filter. This "new" mental framework distorts truth, stretches the meaning of familiar words, and promotes mystical "insights" that are incompatible with Christianity. – ibid.
 I’ve written a brief article defending the case for the literary genre of fantasy and its use in imparting Christian truth, and it is not my intent here to present an apologetic for it.

But however one may come down on the issue, the writer of Christian fantasy has to concede that, by definition, the story must proffer elements of a world-view that simply does not exist. For me, as a writer and supporter of Christian fantasy, not only do I not see that as a contradiction of Christianity and biblical truth (the only kind of truth there is), but that it is well suited to do exactly the oppostie, convey biblical truth in a way that cannot be done through regular fiction or non-fiction. This places a great responsibility on the Christian writer to ensure that the story-world he creates (reflecting his Creator’s image in doing so) does not by negligence promote a non-Christian, pagan perspective of reality.

Freya, a key character of Mr. Lawhead’s novel, who has experienced the ‘reality’ of a fantasy world, struggles with the attitudes of those who would pooh-pooh that which they do not understand and have not experienced. After causing a scene by confronting the veracity of a lecturer’s position who began her talk with the opening words: 
“‘The Matter of Britain’ is the name that we give to the works that form up the early pseudo-histories of Britain...” (p 18)
 Freya wrestles with her conscience and motivation on the matter: 
“Why did she do it. What did it matter what people thought and believed, even if it was a lie? What right did she have to burst the fragile bubble of unreality [italics mine], what does it matter if they live a lie? Ignorance is blessing. It was futile to try to wake people up, so why did she do it? (p 22) 
Interesting this – an illustration of the educated scholar rejecting what cannot be proven historically or in the lab. The fantasy world created by Mr. Lawhead is part of a larger reality that includes both worlds, the one we live in and the one that only a few from our world have had the privilege of experiencing. And those who have not experienced it are unbelievers to the core.

Did Freya have the right ‘to burst the fragile bubble of unreality?’ Absolutely, because she knew the truth, she had experienced it first hand. She not only had the right, but the obligation.

Is this not what the Christian is to do? Is he not obligated to burst the bubble of unreality of those whose eyes have not been opened, and perchance God would use that bursting to open their eyes. Taking it into our arena as Christian writers of fantasy, should there not be at least some motivation to take that special gift God has given us and use it to manifest the real through the fantastic, in particular, the reality of the most fundamental biblical truths that center on Jesus Christ and his gospel?

Thanks to Thomas Nelson for kindly providing a copy of The Realms Thereunder for review on the February 2012 Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour.

Ross Lawhead's Web Page
List of CSFF Blog Tour Participants
The Realms Thereunder on Amazon

Sunday, February 19, 2012

February 2012 CSFF Blog Tour, Day 1 - The Realms Thereunder, by Ross Lawhead




The two characters, Daniel and Freya, in the first book of the Ancient Earth trilogy, are played out in two different worlds (modern day England and a presumably Middle Ages fantasy world), at two different times (present day and eight years prior), and of two different ages (as teens and then as young adults in their early twenties). Ross Lawhead could have told the story in a more sequential manner, perhaps with book one strictly as the story of the fantasy adventure eight years prior. I suspect he may have contemplated that when the tale first started rattling round in his head, but as one thinks upon it, there are good reasons as to why it came out as it did.

For starters, there would have been no way around the fact that Daniel and Freya are not native residents of the fantasy world, that they had their origin in modern day earth, and that Lawhead would have had to get them from here to there anyhow. So there would have been an unavoidable merging of the two worlds from the start. Once there, if he had kept them there for the duration of the book, how much more he would have had to spend on that world. Which would have been appealing, seeing that the extra attention would likely have given the world more substance and development, and it probably would have made the story ten times easier to follow. But after having had the experience of tracing the back and forth of his father’s novels (The Skin Map and The Bone House) I really did not have much to complain with this regard.

There are really two stories to be told. Though the main characters Daniel and Freya are in both adventures, the world-view and maturity of the two are starkly different in each; the early experiences had a discernable affect that continues into the present day. Freya was a happy-go-lucky girl while Daniel was a school-hater with an unhappy home life, and a yearning for recognition. The present day Freya is an obsessive, nervous college student trying to avoid the past; Daniel lives on the streets in order to carry out a mission that understands and faces the past.

In the early tale Daniel and Freya discover a hidden crypt of sorts in a church they are visiting on a school field trip. This houses two knights who have been lying there for centuries, who awaken and play a substantial part in the rest of the story. Not able to leave the church and return home from the crypt, Daniel and Freya are forced to follow the two knights, Egcbryt [ETCH brit] and Swiðgar [SWIDTH gar], back to their world. Through the friendship and protection of these two, the youngsters are spared the devilry and murder of yfelgopes [EE fehl GOHP as] and eventually arrive at their destination, Niðergeard [NI thur gayrd], a subterranean city under threat of attack by the armies of Gad. From there the tale goes on to reveal what they must do to return home and how they accomplished that. It is laden with trial and danger.

The later story of Freya and Daniel in their early twenties involves a return by Daniel to that other world, and of Freya having to contend with influences and entities from that world in this one. What happens to each has a direct bearing on the outcome of the other, which unites them in the end.

Along the way the reader encounters a number of tantalizing creatures and personalities: Ealdstan [ee ELD stan] a cranky ancient wizard in Niðergeard; a wood burner (charcoal maker) in Elfland; eight blind women on an island in the (now dried up) Sleeping Ocean, whose labor is a constant weaving of a tapestry on which the continuous history of the world is embroidered; Neiman, a despicable yet pitiable half-faerie who causes women to become infatuated with him; the merchant Reizzger Lokkich who has murderous plans for Agrid Fiall, a greedy, merciless moneylender; a young dragon and two dead trolls (feasted upon by the dragon), and more.

The writing is quite good, though there are a few places in which some lines made me cringe, being reminiscent of some of my least favorite Christian fantasy writers. The style was not consistent throughout, I thought. It assumed a manner at times (not persistently, though) that was more for young teens in those parts where the story was actually about young teens, that is, the earlier tale.

One of my favorite characters, who did not appear much in the book yet held key scenes, was Alex Simpson. Lawhead’s writing created a remarkably tangible crescendo and spike in the revelation of his role (p. 166); for me, that alone made the reading satisfying.

Thanks to Thomas Nelson for kindly providing a copy of The Realms Thereunder for review on the February 2012 Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour.

Ross Lawhead's Web Page
List of CSFF Blog Tour Participants
The Realms Thereunder on Amazon

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Reading, Meditation, and Christian Writing

I suppose I am like a lot of Christians. I have a hard time keeping a regular, habitual practice of reading the Bible. Why is that so? I am a seminary graduate (Westminster Theological Seminary, MDiv, 1979) and if anyone should have regular Bible reading down by now it should be a seminary student.

The typical excuses I find cropping up with me - too rushed, not always convenient, too many other things that need to get done, etc., etc. Yet I do like to read, all topics and a variety of genre. I can sit for hours and persist in a novel. Biblical and theological books can hold my attention for a long time as well, even some of the heavier ones. But I find trouble devoting the same amount of time for the Bible, that is, to sit down and read, and read persistently!

I think, for me, the biggest problem, which should also be the biggest motivation (and it is) is that the Bible is not just another book. It is the inscripturated Word of God, the means by which God speaks to us today. It must be read carefully, prayerfully, meditatively. I don't do that with a novel, and the only time in which I come within a mile of doing so is if the novel is written in such a way that the great truths of the Bible are profoundly exposited either in the narrative, character(s), or action. Not many novels, even so-called Christian novels, are like that.

This reveals the first obstacle to persistent Bible reading. It is not easy because it is not entertaining. A contrast: The Harry Potter books. The ingenuity of J K Rowling and her superb writing ability (true, she doesn’t write in the same style as J R R Tolkien, but I would place her skill side by side with his) provided a series of books whose entertainment value, for me, has few equals. The Wingfeather Saga, by Andrew Peterson, is another. The latter is considered Christian fantasy while the former is not. Now I think the latter qualifies as Christian fantasy only in an anemic way, that is, it does not bring out the gospel prominently and forcefully. And whether that is good or bad is another question and deserving of an article in itself. But it is fascinatingly entertaining, far more so, and far better written than any other young adult (children’s) fantasy of the last dozen years or more. I love to read them (Rowling and Peterson) because they entertain and captivate; I find myself in the middle of the story, like a holodeck.

Not so the Bible. The closest I come to encountering such an experience are in the historical books of the Old Testament, the gospels, and Acts. Yet, these do not have the entertaining power and sway as do the modern day examples I mentioned above. Which leads to the second reason why it is so hard to read the Bible.

The Bible requires work, even the easier historical narratives. The work is this: I am a Christian and as such I want to understand what God is saying through the pages of Scripture in such a way that it changes me. I want it to make me pursue holiness and seek first the Kingdom of God. I want it to change my heart so that I love as I ought. I want to get a glimpse of the glory of God, and be transformed by it. To do that, I have to read the Bible carefully, even meticulously so that I get the meaning right. If I don’t understand what the plain words of the Bible are saying through the logical and grammatical construction that they come in, even the Spirit of God cannot help me. So, when I read the Bible, I do it slowly and carefully, making sure that I understand what it is saying. If I have to, I’ll stop, think about it (sometimes for a long time) consult a commentary or a sermon if available, check it out in the original language (again, if available), and then move on. Sometimes it takes me days to get through a handful of verses. Some passages, I keep coming back to time after time, still trying to sort out the meaning of it. It’s hard work, and hardly ever fun.

When I ponder (meditate) on Psalm 1, often I am convicted:

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful; but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night.

I confess, I do not go through the process I described above day and night. If I did I would neglect other things that I, as a Christian, ought not to neglect. But here is what I do find. The Scriptures follow me. After having painstakingly worked through a biblical text, I find that it keeps interjecting itself into my mind while I am away from it. Sometimes it comes in a verbatim recollection, more often in a paraphrased truth that is succinct and apropos. Often, I wish it were more often than not, without trying, I am analyzing my situation or a situation that affects me or others important to me, and I am doing it from a perspective that comes from the remembrance of scripture. In other words, I am thinking, meditating, applying the scriptures without their being open before my physical eyes. I think this is as much as what is meant by meditation as the traditional understanding.

Psalm 1 is one of those passages that I return to time after time, and the meaning of that word meditation is something that I am still working on, not merely a sterile definition of it but a flesh and bones experience of it. What does it mean for me (or anyone, David included) to meditate on the Law of God? It is important because it is the means by which I am going to prosper in this life; and to prosper (another word of the passage), I think, means to prosper in holy and godly living not in material things (the context of the first verse establishes that). In other words, my spiritual well-being and progress is directly related to a proper understanding of meditation and a proper practice of it, both in the immediate contact with the written page, and also in the mediate recollection of it as I confront daily life.


In light of all this, and harking back to the anemia of much of our Christian writing, it is better (though not an absolute requirement by God) if the Christian writer takes on the role of not only entertainer but also expositor. Entertain by all means, but in the doing of it, teach, so that the product of his pen analogously follows the profitability of scripture which is 'profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness,' 2 Tim 3:16.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

October 2011 CSFF Blog Tour, Day Three

The Bone House, by Stephen R. Lawhead

I ordinarily do not read the postings of others on the CSFF blog tour until the tour is over. That is so that my postings remain as original and unaffected by the other participants as possible. However, this time I have read a few, and there is one that has encouraged me to consider the absence of God in The Bone House.

In other blogs for the tour, as well other postings on my blog, I have contended that Christian fiction/fantasy is not Christian unless it conveys in a pointed way at least some elements of the Gospel. To be clear, my theological persuasion is reformed and therefore I hold to what are known as the five points of Calvinism succinctly stated in the acronym, TULIP (Total Depravity, Unconditional Election, Limited Atonement, Irresistible Grace, and Perseverance of the Saints). I have no doubt there are many CSFF blog tour participants who disagree with at least one of these points, and my intent is not to go into an exposition of these, or begin a dialogue over them. I only want to clarify that I believe the five points of Calvinism are biblically sound and represent the true gospel found in the scriptures. As such, when I hold that Christian fiction/fantasy should convey at least some elements of  the gospel, these five points are what I have in mind primarily. 

I think I am ready to refine my position on this as follows. Christian fiction/fantasy is of two fundamental types: anemic and robust. Anemic Christian fiction will contain elements that comport with a bona fide Christian world-view, that there is a God who is gracious and merciful and saves sinners. But these elements are not stringently Calvinistic nor are they dominant. Robust Christian fiction leaves no doubt of the fundamental truths of the Gospel, that God sovereignly saves a people for himself and for his glory through the death and resurrection of Christ applied through the work of the Spirit without which none of his people would recognize their sinfulness and need of salvation, and henceforth repent and trust in Christ to save them from their sin.

If we look at most so-called Christian fiction today under the robust lens, we find little that qualifies as Christian. On the other hand, there is much that qualifies anemically. Where does The Bone House stand? In one of my posts for The Skin Map tour, which I hope the reader might take the time to consult, I make the following observation after advocating that "Christian fantasy is only ‘Christian’ if it centers on and flows out of the gospel:"

Where does The Skin Map fit? It is entertaining, to be sure. However, the gospel is absent and as such, disqualifies it as ‘Christian.’ I say this because there is no mention of the bad news that must become painfully obvious before the good news will make any sense - and that bad news is the sinfulness of man, which merits God’s wrath.

On the other hand, a novel written by a Christian, but which does not qualify as ‘Christian’ is not wrong. I wrote:

I think so long as a story’s purpose is not to promote a non-Christian epistemological and ontological philosophy, though it may be heavily laced with such philosophy, it is not wrong. Though a fiction or fantasy takes place in a world that is non-biblical, that does not mean that it is by definition wrong. So long as it is clear that the intent of the story is not to promote such a world-view, it is not a dishonor to God. Such tales whose sole purpose is to entertain likewise reflect the creativity of man as image-bearer of God, and the entertainment itself may be viewed as a gift from God for his people to enjoy.

As far as I can tell, Stephen Lawhead is not trying to promote a non-biblical worldview, and, as I observed then:

I want to be fair, however. The Skin Map is book one in the Bright Empires series. The series as a whole may prove to be very Christian even though one or more of the books in the series would not be classified as such.

We now have book two of the series, and there is no noticeable effort on Lawhead’s part to bring in the salient points of the Gospel. What if this persists until the series is finished? I would have mixed thoughts. On the one hand, I can recognize quality when I see it, and the Bright Empires series thus far ranks very high both for the story and for the writing itself, which in my estimation are of equal importance. On the other hand, as a writer of Christian fiction and fantasy, and as a supporter of it, I would like to see quality like this also be true to what makes Christian fiction, Christian. The combination of the two would be powerful, and all things considered, would have a greater impact for the Kingdom.

That is why I am so adamant in pressing for a stringent definition of Christian fiction. I want the genre to distinguish itself precisely where it needs to the most, in the gospel. This can be done without being preachy or soppy. It allows the specially talented Christian writer to pursue an evangelistic and apologetic labor in a way that very few are capable of doing. Such writers and writing is needed, and I find it disheartening that those who could do a superb job are not doing so.

And yet, I don’t want to disparage such writers either. Writing, for whatever purpose, if done consciously as a labor to and for God, is pleasing to God. If Bright Empires is such a labor, I cannot complain. It is worthy and God-honoring entertainment. But I will be disappointed if it does no more than entertain.


Stephen R. Lawhead's Web Page
List of CSFF Blog Tour Participants
The Bone House on Amazon


Thanks to Thomas Nelson for kindly providing a copy of The Bone House for review on the October, 2011 Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour.

Monday, October 24, 2011

CSFF Blog Tour - October, 2011, Day Two

The Bone House, by Stephen R. Lawhead

Stephen Lawhead includes a short excursus at the end of his book titled, “Quantum Physics and Me.” In it, he comments on Thomas Young, a 19th century scholar who has a significant role in this second book. Thomas Young was truly a phenom of his day, of any day for that matter. Would that I had a tenth of the brain he did.

Young proved light had the characteristics of a wave, which countered Isaac Newton’s prevailing theory that it was a particle.

It was an experiment of classical simplicity. He [Young] made a small hole in a blind and placed it so sunlight would pass through onto a card with two pin holes. The light from the pin holes formed an image on a screen behind in a series of curved bands. This was proof that light had acted wavelike and had spread out or defracted. If light had been a particle stream then only two spots of light would have appeared on the screen. [1]

In another experiment, Young proves how the eye focuses:

At the time, there was considerable dispute on whether the eye focused through the cornea or the crystalline lens. Young reasoned that if the eye is immersed in water, we no longer see clearly because there is liquid both inside and outside the cornea and it ceases to function as a lens. He found that if he placed a lens of equal power to the cornea in front of his eye he could see clearly under water. By this very simple experiment he had proved conclusively that it must be the crystalline lens that does the focusing. [2]

What is so remarkable is the simplicity of these experiments; so simple, they could be performed by any one of us. The lack of modern day technology did not stop men like Young who not only evidenced their genius by their ability to contemplate and deduce, but also to demonstrate it so that the man on the street can understand the principle through an experiment that uses equipment he is perfectly familiar with. I suspect that all men of such great genius are able to do that. Einstein is reputed to have said, "If you can't explain it to a six year old, you don't understand it yourself." Not sure about that, but I get the point. We should strive to reduce demonstration to its most simple elements without destroying its ability to demonstrate.

The novelist to some degree or another is faced with the same problem. Not that he is necessarily trying to prove or disprove something, but he is trying to make a point. If there is no point behind the novel, I’m not sure it is worth writing, and I’m definitely sure it is not worth reading.

I’m referring to something more profound than the simple point to entertain. Certainly, entertainment is an element that every novel must have, but that is not the point of the novel. Its point is to convey an insight about something the reader has an interest in.

What does The Bone House do in this regard? Well, for one it brings to life Dr. Thomas Young and places him in a believable situation. By believable I mean, as an example, he is engaged in archaeological work, which is an enterprise that can be believed in. Granted, the object of search is a thing of fantasy, but the endeavor to find it is believable. What Stephen Lawhead has done for us is to make it a point to flesh that out with as much authenticity as possible so that we get a feel for what is involved without being bored with mundane detail.

I think this was accomplished with the movie, Indiana Jones and the Lost Ark. I was so awed by the movie that I saw it on the silver screen eight times before it went to the second-run theaters. The romantic element, that is, the notion of an intellectual with a PhD taking on the quest for the fantastic and elusive in the context of pending world war was irresistible. But it wasn’t just the romance. It was the raw truth that there is discoverable stuff out there to be discovered. I suspect this planted a seed in some scientists today who may look back on that film as the point where their journey began.

This was the experience of Carl Sagan, who devoured science fiction early on. At the age of ten he read Edgar Rice Burroughs' The Princess of Mars. I'm not claiming a one-to-one correspondence between me and Sagan, but I read Burroughs’ novel The Gods of Mars at age eleven. Obviously, either Burrough’s stories didn’t have the same impact on me as it did Sagan, or I didn’t have the intellectual prowess of Sagan; most likely, both are true. Sagan did become dissatisfied with the science fiction of his youth because much of it was written with disregard to actual science. I suspect that his novel, Contact, was written not only to make the point that extraterrestrial intelligent beings plausibly exist, but also to rectify a trend in science fiction which ignored science.

Stephen Lawhead has devoted time to making his story authentic by not ignoring the science that is behind archaeology and even the fringe speculation of ley travel (that is, the concept of more than one universe). Rather, he exploits it liberally. One has to tip his hat.

[2] ibid. 

Stephen R. Lawhead's Web Page
List of CSFF Blog Tour Participants
The Bone House on Amazon


Thanks to Thomas Nelson for kindly providing a copy of The Bone House for review on the October, 2011 Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour.

CSFF Blog Tour - October, 2011, Day One

The Bone House, by Stephen R. Lawhead

Warning: This is a complete spoiler.

If one tended to think the first book of the Bright Empires Series (The Skin Map) was convoluted, he will undoubtedly think the same of the second book, The Bone House. Like The Skin Map, the explanation for this tortuous route through the novel in part is due to the nature of ley travel, if it were true, of course. In fact, the way the book is laid out, vacillating between alternate space and time locales as it does, the reader gains a sense of what the world of ley travel would actually be like. I found it both distracting and tantalizing at the same time. I would not change it.

The best way to relate the story may be to follow threads separately, which requires one to move in a non-sequential manner through the chapters. Here is my attempt to do that.

Kit Livingston

Kit and Giles (Lord Henry’s coachman) are rescued by Wilhelmina from the tomb of Anen in Egypt. (Wilhelmina was Kit’s former girlfriend in the here and now, whom Kit unwittingly sent into 17th Century Prague via a ley jump that went horribly wrong as related in The Skin Map). Wilhelmina (also known as Mina) directs Kit to split up; he is to ley travel to Luxor, Egypt of another time and pick up a package at the Winter Palace Hotel. Kit departs not knowing where Wilhelmina and Giles have gone. Mina promises to catch up with Kit.

Kit arrives at Luxor, finds the hotel and obtains the package. A note, handwritten by Wilhelmina directs him not to open the package but to take it to Dr. Thomas Young who, in Wilhelmina’s own words, is ‘the last man in the world who knows everything.’ An old Egyptian guides Kit to Dr. Young’s work site. Kit presents the package to Young who opens it to find articles that prove Wilhelmina’s claim to be a traveler from another time.

Wilhelmina and Giles

Before ever ley traveling to Egypt, Wilhelmina learned the art through trial and error and a device built by the emperor’s assistant alchemist (whom Wilhelmina has befriended) who said it was for ‘astral exploration.’ Wilhelmina called it the ‘ley lamp.’ It was a stone with blue lights and a dial; the blue lights lit up and became brighter as she neared an active ley line. In time, Wilhelmina became very good and accurate in ley travel.

After leaving Kit in Egypt, Wilhelmina and Giles ley travel to Edinburgh, Scotland where she visits Dr. Thomas Young and speaks of the tomb of Anen, which the doctor, the world’s leading authority on Egypt, informs there is no such tomb. Wilhelmina reveals the scholar will yet discover it; she knows – she is from his future.

After apparently informing Dr. Young of Kit’s pending visit, she and Giles ley travel back to Prague and her coffee house, and to her good friend and baker, Etzel. There she learns from a downcast Gustavus Rosenkreuz (the assistant alchemist) that he is directed to drop all his work for the sake of building another device for astral exploration; this one is better. Again, Gustavus promises to make a device for Wilhelmina.

Wilhelmina and Giles ley travel to Egypt and the site of Dr. Young’s excavation of Anen’s tomb. Kit assists Wilhelmina’s inspection of the tomb where they discover figures indicating Arthur Flinders-Petrie, known as The Man Who Is Map, i.e., the one who had the symbols that aided in mapping ley travel tattooed onto his upper torso. They also discern that the skin map must have been divided up in such a way as not to destroy any of its symbols. Having seen all this, Wilhelmina, Giles, and Kit return to Prague, 1607, where Wilhelmina’s coffee house and importing ventures are flourishing.

Wilhelmina, Kit, and Giles

While in the coffee house, Haven Fayth (Lord Henry Fayth’s niece, who seemingly betrayed Kit and Giles at Anen’s tomb and departed with Lord Burleigh) comes in. Lady Fayth sternly warns them to leave as Burleigh is in town (he is the one who has instigated the building of the ‘astral exploration’ device). There is distrust toward her, but Wilhelmina deems it wise for Kit and Giles to hide upstairs and later to leave in stealth, accompanied by Wilhelmina. However, Burley men discover their attempt to escape, alerting Lord Burleigh and giving chase. Wilhelmina gives Kit the ley lamp and sends both him and Giles running to escape by a ley line not far away. Kit escapes on Burleigh’s horse (who has been thrown off) and barely makes it to the ley line and escapes. Burleigh has wounded Giles with a gunshot. Wilhelmina, with the help of Lady Fayth, retrieves Giles from Burleigh and nurses him at the coffee house. Her intent is to send him ‘home.’

Kit Livingston (again)

After his escape from Lord Burleigh, Kit finds himself in a prehistoric era and encounters ‘primitives,’ i.e., cave dwellers, who take him into their company. Over time, Kit realizes he has lost the opportunity to make it back by ley travel and becomes a part of the primitive community. Kit masters a small vocabulary of their language and can communicate in a crude way. Kit also discerns that the primitives are able to communicate in some manner of telepathy. Kit meets the cheiftain En-Ul and amazingly is able to telepathically communicate with him. He learns of the bone house, and accompanies En-Ul to participate in a ritual within the structure. While there, the ley lamp becomes active, Kit falls through the floor into a pit and ley travels to a luxuriant paradise. There he comes across a pool of light and witnesses The Man Who Is Map carrying his dead wife into the pool; when they come out, she is alive, and Kit realizes they are at ‘The Well of Souls.’

Lord Archelaeus Burleigh

Gemma Burley gave birth to Archibald Burley the illegitimate son of aristocratic Vernon Ashmole. Spurned by Ashmole, Gemma is forced to raise Archie on her own. Archie is noticed by Granville Gower who takes Burley in to mentor in the antiquities trade. Over time, Archie learns the trade, makes money and learns that a title of high standing will bring great reward. His mentor dies and Archie goes into the business in earnest. He changes his name to Lord Archeleaus Burleigh, Earl of Sutherland. Upon returning from one of his extended travels, he is found to have given himself totally to scholarly pursuits.

Lord Burleigh meets up with Sir Edward Fayth (Lord Henry Fayth's brother) and his daughter Lady Haven Fayth. Haven has no trust in Burleigh, but through a series of unusual events comes to accompany Lord Burleigh on many of his ley travels, in particular to Prague and the royal court of Rudolph II.

Lord Burleigh is behind the development of the device for astral exploration, knowing that the court of Rudolph (who himself is eccentric or perhaps mad) provides the necessary expertise for its construction.

Douglas Flinders-Petrie

Douglas is the great, great grandson of The Man Who Is Map and has plans of his own. With the assistance of a dimwitted assistant named Snipe, Douglas steals a book written in ciphers from the London Museum.

Douglas takes great pains to learn to speak midieval Latin and acquire costumes that would disguise him as a friar of that era. He and Snipe ley jump and meet Roger Bacon who believes he is a visiting monk from another locale. Douglas reveals the stolen book to the Doctor who examines it to announce that the glyphs are of his own making. The book is the Book of Forbidden Secrets. Over three days he translates the work and makes copies of the most important parts. This he keeps safe in his austere dwelling.

Douglas also shows the Doctor the skin map (which he had stolen from Henry Fayth). The Doctor reveals that the symbols are coordinates and provides a sample of the key needed to interpret the symbols. This he does by jotting down several symbols with their coordinate. Douglas acquires this and bids farewell. Meeting Snipe afterwards, he instructs his aid to steal the translation work in the Doctor’s quarters.

Arthur Flinders-Petrie

Arthur Flinders-Petrie (aka The Man Who Is Map and great, great grandfather of Douglas) arrives in ancient Egypt with his Chinese wife who is pregnant. Arthur finds Turms, an Egyptian prophet, priest, and king, who through ritual assures them that the baby is healthy and will be born alive. At a naming ceremony, Arthur inadvertently gives his son the name, Benedict, instead of the intended name of Benjamin. Benedict sticks.

Arthur and his wife return to England. After time, Arthur returns to ancient Egypt with Benedict who is to begin an apprenticeship that is not identified.



Stephen R. Lawhead's Web Page
List of CSFF Blog Tour Participants
The Bone House on Amazon


Thanks to Thomas Nelson for kindly providing a copy of The Bone House for review on the October, 2011 Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour.