Monday, November 30, 2009

Conformity as the Root of all Evil.

While Charles Wallace certainly was one of 'them' for a brief period, the final paragraphs of the story makes sure that we feel a part of the 'us' of the Murry family. On the surface, this scene might be read as saying that the nuclear family and all of its trappings are good and right according to L' Engle. Judeo-Christian values, bible quotation, sweet innocence -- all make significant appearances in the story and might lead to a superficial reading of what the author feels is right and good. But a clear recollection of what has occurred up to the moment of Fortinbras (a significant name for the dog, too, I think) crashing through the screen door should bring us back to the dominant leitmotifs of this book: to question and to be oneself is the ultimate good; to meekly accept and to conform for conformity's sake is the ultimate evil.

Ben's pre-selected passage employs active and confused words in a scene that is universally recognizable to anyone in my culture (American-Irish) who has been separated from their loved ones for a long time (for we who are unable to tesser, that is). The word selection in the ultimate scene uses action to signify that the love being signified is neither uniform nor neat, not tucked in with tight corners - love is messy, loud, unpredictable, and can be expanded to include new members in an instant: running, jumble, hugging, grinning, talking, laughing, startled, crash, catapulted, dashed, joy, exuberance. L' Engle's genius lies not only in the simplicity of her storytelling abilities but in her ability to place almost universally recognizable signification in alien locations (literally).

L' Engle's ideal portrait of evil and defeat and sadness comes, I feel, in a moment of defeat for Darkness. While in the cave with the Happy Medium, the children witness a supernova destruction of a patch of the Darkness; in the description of what remains after the destruction of evil, we find the best definition of evil itself when the narrator tells us "Suddenly there was a great burst of light through the Darkness. The light spread out and where it touched the Darkness the Darkness disappeared ... and through the shining came the stars, clear and pure. Then, slowly, the shining dwindled until it, too, was gone, and there was nothing but stars and starlight. No Shadows. No fear. Only the stars and the clear darkness of space, quite different from the fearful darkness of the Thing" (102). Evil, in L' Engle's conception, exists in the muddling of clarity, it exists in smog that obscures and prevents beauty, it lives within the human tendency to resist what is not understood.

Calvin is 'them' until he becomes us, the principal is definitely them, Dennys and Sandy - them, until the final scene. Aunt Beast? Come on! This blurring and fading of the line us/them/it is a tool of L' Engles subordinate leitmotif which rails against prejudice - but only up to a point. When the children first see the Dark, on Uriel, they know it is evil and judge it as such without hesitation; however, the first encounter with the Ixchel and Aunt Beast would lead us to believe that we should reserve judgement - that just because something is unusual, does not make it an enemy.

L' Engle's conception of good and evil is problematic in only one major way that I can see: just as conformity for conformity's sake lacks merit, so too non-conformity for non-conformity's sake. Those who are able to be themselves in the face of peril and despite pressures to conform, are the heroes of L'Engle's poetics; however, the real possibility of lashing out simply for the sake of being apart from the herd is not addressed in this book. But , based on the weight and presence of a book written for sixth graders, I am willing to give this author the benefit of the doubt.


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