I read this story out loud with my daughter. I was ready to pronounce that I had found no ‘moral’ in this story, until I sat down to write my thoughts on it, and now it has become clear.

I do not read stories looking for a moral. I think to read in this way can cause the experience of reading itself to suffer. But, nevertheless, there must be themes that emerge. And the better the writing, the more vibrant the story, the more the themes will be illumined to the reader.

This is the story of two small children who enter into Fairy Land. They find themselves in the house of a Giant whose great delight is to eat pudgy kids. They discover that the Giant keeps his heart outside of his body for the purposes of security and that, at this particular time, it is being kept in the nest of an eagle.The children resolve to capture his heart so that they might gain control over him in order to urge him to live a better life by, especially, not eating children. I won’t give away too much, but I will reflect for a moment on the lasting impression left upon me by the story.

This story, if you can say such a thing about fiction, literally depicts the ‘guarding’ of one’s heart. This calls to mind, of course, the well-known proverb (Proverbs 4:23):

Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.

The Giant keeps his heart safe by never letting it remain in the same place. He will not keep it in his body. He will not keep it in his house. He will not let his wife keep it. He must find various places throughout the Land that will serve for its protection. In the end I think he learns the lesson that putting your heart in a hard to reach place, or letting it be detached from you, or hiding it, will not always serve for the good. Perhaps there was another way he could have guarded it – perhaps a better way.

Perhaps there is a better way that you and I can guard ours as well. The only sure safe place for the heart is in Jesus Christ. By believing in him we are united to him by faith so that he objectively becomes our representative. Our hearts our hid in the ‘cleft of the rock’ so that God’s wrath, and the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil cannot pinch our hearts and cause us anguish (you have to read the story for that last part to make sense). We can guard our hearts by lifting them up, and offering them, to Christ. There is no other way – just ask MacDonald’s Giant. The Giant knew that the ‘wellsprings of life’ flowed from the heart, but he guarded it in the wrong place and in the wrong way.

Cheers to old MacDonald for making Scripture come alive to me again (whether he meant to or not, but I bet he did).

This is another book I read out loud with my daughter. This is the fourth story I have read of MacDonald’s (I am also in the process of reading Phantastees) and I have truly enjoyed his work. I will not focus on the plot here in any detail (I’ll leave the reviewing for others) but only focus on the points that stood out in my reading so that I can record them for future reference.

This story may be one of the most prototypical fairy tales ever (at least among those I have read). You have a Princess and a Prince, a King and Queen, and a wicked witch (who happens to be the king’s sister). On top of that you have the classic catastrophe/eucatastrophe (Tolkien’s word). In other words, you get the classic twist of fate, or sudden turning of events, that leads to a happy ending.

My daughter and I began this story not having the slightest idea what it was about. It was interesting to observe her reaction to it as we began to read. She made the choice to read this book because of the title. She told me, as she was rather disappointed, that she assumed it was about a princess who could make light.

She wasn’t disappointed for long, however, because the story gripped her. It gripped me as well I must confess.The classic love story of the nameless Prince and Princess (why should a prince and princess need names anyway?), which appears to be headed toward tragedy, is enough to keep anyone’s attention.

Moving past the preliminaries, let me focus on two themes. I say two themes, though they are essentially one. For the one is a part of the other. But it is helpful, at least to me, to record them separately.

1. Puns in General (the importance and force of puns)
We are told early on in the story that the king is not a fan of puns. But most of the story revolves around one great pun – the idea of ‘light.’ The Princess is the ‘Light Princess,’ meaning that she has no weight. She has been cursed to live a weightless existence, floating to and fro in the breeze except when she is tied down or kept inside. MacDonald uses this idea of weightlessness as a pun (though not a humorous one, rather as a serious word with a double meaning) for the character and disposition of the Princess, for she is not only ‘light’ in terms of the force of gravity on her, but in all other areas as well. For instance, she is lighthearted, in the worst sense of the term. She cares for nothing – not her parents, not the prince, not those who suffer, etc.

I find this great pun very interesting. I think I had forgotten the power of the pun (In our day I believe a pun must be humorous to be considered a pun-proper. So perhaps we wouldn’t call this a pun at all. However I think pun is as good a word as we might apply to it, so let us continue). There is a power to a craftily-handed word. I think of Jesus’ encounter with Nathanael in the early chapters of John’s gospel:

• John 1:47 Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!”

It’s not obvious to all readers, but Jesus is using a clear play-on-words here. Nathanael is an Israelite, meaning he is a descendent of Jacob. Jacob’s name means in one sense, ‘to deceive.’ Therefore Jesus is cleverly saying to Nathanael, ‘Look at this, a Jacob who is no Jacob,’ or ‘A descendant of the deceiver who is not a deceiver himself.’ It’s a pun of sorts, and its effective (read it for yourself if you don’t believe me).

I point this out only to say that these sorts of word-plays can be a very effective and thought-provoking way of driving home a point (i.e. note to self: puns should be in your repertoire, start using them, but only if they’re good).

2. The Pun in Particular (observations about the specific pun of this story)
The ‘lightness’ of the Princess is not only a physical quality, but is an all around description of her. The materialist philosopher, along with his spiritual counterpart, just don’t get it. The problem is not something to do with her bones and nerves. Neither is it related to a spiritual mishap (though she was cursed by a witch as the initial cause). Rather the problem is that she has no true humanity. The idea is that humans care – they love, they hate, they sympathize, they hurt – but she doesn’t. She therefore has no glory. I say glory because the Hebrew idea of glory, which I’m sure MacDonald was familiar with, implies weightiness. Glory is the inner stuff of a person, the thing that gives them a weight, a true existence, etc.

The question then becomes, How can the princess gain weight? That is, how can she physically become heavy, how can she, as MacDonald puts it, ‘get her gravity?’ The philosophers have their answers, but they don’t truly understand. The clue to the true answer is in the Princess’ relationship with/to water.

Any time she enters into water, she gains her gravity and becomes as a normal human being. Perhaps then, they speculate, if we could only make her cry, the water would normalize her. But remember, she has no feelings, nothing can make her cry.

That is, until she sees the loving, selfless sacrifice of the Prince, who gives his own life to save hers. This sacrifice moves her, and causes the tears to flow. And from then on she gains her gravity. So then, the sacrifice of the Prince not only saves her physically, but it saves her in a much deeper sense, as it moves her in such a way as to give her weight through her own tears. In other words, his sacrifice not only keeps her alive, but actually makes her alive for the first time as a true human in all the glory that humanity entails.

The allusion to the gospel of Jesus Christ is clear enough. His death not only objectively saves us from death (Eph. 2:1 death) and gives us life (eternal), but helps us to come to grips with who we really are – our own shortcomings, sin, etc – and allows us for the first time to embrace life, and live the existence that we were meant to live in its fullness. His sacrifice saves us and moves us, it delivers us and propels us, it rescues us and renews us.

The Light Princess is a great story because of its echoes of the Great Story. O, the power of this pun.