Home » 100 Cupboards

Tag: 100 Cupboards

Stories are…Catechisms for Your Impulses

In a recent post of mine titled, Anthropomorphism, Unlikeness, and Reality in Fiction: Opening the Eyes of the Blind I write this:

I often reference C.S. Lewis’ statement to the effect that fantasy literature does not make children (and I would say adults as well, so long as they’re not prone to pure escapism) forget, or despise, the real world. He said basically that a child who reads of an enchanted forest does not thereby begin to hate real forests. Instead all forests take on some of this enchantment. For instance, I’ve never thought of forests in the same way since reading the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. I’ve never looked at peaceful walks the same since I read the Princess and the Goblin (I’m always ready to sing a goblin song should the proper situation arise). I’ve never looked at lions the same since reading the Chronicles of Narnia. I could go on, but I won’t.

For the past month or so I have been immersed in N.D. Wilson’s 100 Cupboards trilogy. I posted my initial thoughts on the first book HERE. I have a lot more to add to that original post at this point, but I won’t – the whole point of my ‘recent reading’ series is to give initial impressions and applications. The series certainly gets more weighty as you go on and some of the philosophical (though I’m sure Wilson would call them Christian, not philosophical) undercurrents are emerging more clearly. But, actually, that’s beside the point.

I came across a YouTube video (watch it HERE) of an interview with N.D. Wilson a while back. I have now watched it twice in its entirety. He’s a pretty sharp guy and it is taking time to process some of the things he said. One of those things hit home yesterday in a conversation with my family about Wilson’s book Dandelion Fire. I won’t get into that now, but I want to record the relevant quote from the interview (transcript courtesy of WORLD):

Q: You’ve said you learned more philosophy, maybe even theology, from C.S. Lewis and Tolkien than from anything you studied in college. Is that one reason you write fiction rather than theological tomes?
A. Christians have sometimes been suspicious of stories, because they really can influence you. If you read the Twilight novels once a month for a year, I think you’d be a different human afterward—and not a sparkly one. Stories are like catechisms, but they’re catechisms for your impulses, they’re catechisms with flesh on.

This is precisely the point I was making (and I was only echoing C.S. Lewis) in my own post quoted above. Stories are catechisms for the impulses, fixing the questions and answers as to how you will view the world in which you live, how you will respond. To use the Lewis idea I often paraphrase (see above), the fairy story, or supernatural story, or whatever you want to call it, asks us, ‘Can our world be enchanted?’ And, if it’s a good one, we’re left saying, ‘Perhaps. Just maybe. Yes, actually, I think it is after all.’  And thus we act accordingly, however that may be.  Bad stories have an effect as well. But that’s a topic in itself. Let’s not go there presently.

I really just wanted to record that quote. It’s worth putting in the old computer, as they(or maybe just I) say. But let me also say, hats off to Mr. Wilson for coining (I assume) a phrase that I think will be quite helpful (he’s rather wordsmithy). Hats off to him for boggling my mind and forcing me to meditate hard and heavy on the concept of a word-made world (more on that to come, when I finish Dandelion Fire). I’m appreciating his work, consider checking him out if you haven’t.

Recent Reading: 100 Cupboards, by N.D. Wilson

I feel like C.S. Lewis and Tolkien must have felt (though I’m certainly not comparing myself to them) – there just aren’t enough of the kind of books that I like. 100 Cupboards, however, is one such book. I had a feeling it would be.

I knew that N.D. Wilson was a fan of Lewis, Tolkien, and Chesterton (all of whom I enjoy). I was familiar with him because of the ministry of his father. But I had not yet read any of his work.

I don’t know exactly what to say about this book. I didn’t come away from the book with anything profound. I didn’t feel as though my life were changed through the reading of it. But I thoroughly enjoyed it, and so did my 6 year old daughter. Yes, my 6 year old daughter enjoyed it immensely. We couldn’t wait to go out and buy the second book in the series, Dandelion Fire, which we have already begun reading. Any book that allows you to turn your eyes away from yourself and simply enjoy the story is good enough for me.

I was amazed reading some of the reviews that some thought it was too violent for its demographic (9-12 years old, I think). I wonder what these people read. It’s less violent than the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to be sure. It’s even less violent than the Hobbit. It’s certainly less violent than the majority of Fairy Tales I’ve read. Anybody who thinks the book is too violent probably doesn’t like the genre to begin with. But that’s an aside.

Wilson is a wonderful writer, a true wordsmith (see my thoughts on his dad’s book, Wordsmithy, HERE). The book is full of suspense and is therefore hard to put down. I’m not in the business of reviews or summaries. I simply like to record my initial impressions and applications. My impression is that it is a fun book – the kind of book I like. Beyond that I don’t know how to describe it. For someone who likes to write, such as myself, you can’t help but hope that your writing will get better through osmosis after reading such a book.

I think of it, I guess, as a story of boy meets world. Or more precisely, boy meets magical world. Henry, the main character, gets to step out of his sheltered world and see a new, and wide, world filled with magic and danger. I often refer to C.S. Lewis’ words that a child who reads of enchanted forests doesn’t thereby begin to despise real forests. Instead he begins to see in the real forests some of the enchantment. That’s the kind of book 100 Cupboards is – it makes Kansas a bit more enchanted than it already was. It makes attics, and cupboards, and barns, and fields, and bedrooms, and keys, and trucks, and wind, and baseball, and soda, etc, etc, a bit more enchanted. And therefore makes my own home, and hopefully this is true for my daughter also, a bit more enchanted as well. I don’t like the thought of living in a mechanistic and materialistic world. I need some enchantment and imagination. This book serves as good fuel to that end.