Seeing Virtue, One of the Virtues of Fiction

For a number of years, I'd say that a hobby of mine is that I love to read.  As much as I'd like to think that it has always described me, this is occasionally true at best.  Often I choose TV or the company of my wife over reading.  Lately, I've torn through four fiction books in the span of a couple months.  The original idea came from this post from The Art of Manliness blog: the 50 best fiction adventure books.

At the time I was reading a very interesting history book, Eamon Duffy's Fires of Faith: Catholic England Under Mary Tudor.  My love of England (of which I am guilty, with apologies to my Irish ancestry), coupled with the history of the Tudor family (which has fascinated me since college), then adding an exoneration of Queen Mary (faults, yes; horrible demon of a monarch, no)--all that made me buy the book and begin it in earnest.  Three months later, it still sat on my nightstand, half-finished.

After coming upon the Art of Manliness blog post for a second time, I thought I'd read a little fiction.  I remembered how quickly I'd rip through a Vince Flynn novel or a Dirk Pitt adventure.  As I mentioned before, I've read four very entertaining books since.

The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard
The Bourne Identity, by Robert Ludlum
She, by H. Rider Haggard

I wanted to write a little about the virtues of fiction, with little bits about each book.

First, one of the great values of fiction is a superficial one.  After spending 9 hours at a place that I don't want to be, then doing various chores (cooking dinner, dishes, etc.), and finally sitting down to relax, it's hard to engage in reading a scholarly book.  For me, it doesn't matter if it's a history book that interests me or a theological book that I know would nourish me spiritually.  Those books require devotion, time, and energy.  Fiction is far easier to read, and fun besides.

Second, great things can be found in fiction novels.  This is what The Art of Manliness blog post picked up.  The tales contain all sorts of virtues and lessons, if we deign to look deeply enough.  In The Hobbit, for example, there is a great lesson in testing one's limits.  Bilbo Baggins, the main character, is quite content to live his life quietly.  An adventure is literally thrust upon him--such a one that he thinks is far beyond his capacity.  Throughout the story, however, he surprises himself at every turn.  He was never incapable of heroic things at all!  It only took the opportunity.

A great lesson in The Bourne Identity is the basic goodness of man.  Here was a CIA operative who was trained to be a deadly assassin... who goes through a number of traumatic events... when the slate of his mind is wiped clean by amnesia in the beginning of the book, he still is capable of good things!  No matter how much his past weighed him down, his heart was still able to love.

Third--this comes straight from the blog post, this isn't my thought--it is good for men to read adventure stories.  Why are comic book movies so popular now?  Why was Indiana Jones such a hit?  There are many reasons, but one of them derives from a man's fascination with adventure.  And here I intend "man" to mean "males," as I can't speak for how these tales affect women.  It's a bit hard to put into words other than in generalities.  I love quests!  Hidden treasure!  Battles!  Spies catching bad guys!  Masculine friendship that's deep and entirely heterosexual!  That is, there's no hidden meanings or Freudian slips; there is a special and unique value of men having male friends, just as there is with women having female friends.  All those things were in the fiction novels that I read.

Saint stories inspire us to holiness; by analogy, I think we can safely say that fiction-adventure books inspire us to further virtue.  How can I not be affected, reading how Bilbo saved the lives of his dwarf friends multiple times?  Or how Jason Bourne, when all seemed lost, still tried to catch the bad guy and clear his name?  Allan Quartermain, fighting valiantly in battle!  Or the characters of two native women saving the life of two adventurers (in both Mines and She)!  Testing the boundaries of our capabilities (and sensibilities) and exploring a lost world!

Pass the popcorn.

I Want One Too...

On the continued subject of trying to get pregnant and the rosary, I wanted to write a little about our trip last week.  We drove six hours north to East Wenatchee, WA (it's fun to say) to see a NaPro doctor there.  Unfortunately the NaPro doctor in Pasco, WA (only four hours away!) retired the same week that Erin called about an appointment.

The appointment was on a Friday.  The rosary I said the night before was on the Luminous Mysteries.  I like that set an awful lot because of the fourth mystery: the Transfiguration.  That was the subject of my first exegesis paper and it blew my mind.  I was taught how to look through these gargantuan Theological Word dictionaries and Greek became a little more... who am I kidding?  It was a bunch of squiggly lines before and after that class.  Even if the paper wasn't so fun, I learned so much from it.  Subsequently, the Transfiguration became one of my more favorite Gospel stories.

As I prayed the rosary the night before our appointment, the underlying purpose of the Transfiguration came to mind.  I'd heard someone else say that Jesus gave an amazingly great gift to Peter, James, and John on that mountaintop.  He knew ahead of time how great of a trial that His Passion would be for the apostles.  For that brief moment, Jesus let them slip behind the curtain of heaven.  We'll never know this side of heaven, but what if the experience of the Transfiguration was what helped John walk with Mary to Calvary?  A glimpse of glory to strengthen for the suffering ahead.  An oasis in a desert.  

While I was praying that mystery, I started to ask for the same thing.  Why can't we have a transfiguration moment?  I started praying for a sign, which is abnormal for me.  For whatever reason, I don't like asking for signs.  I'm extremely comfortable with intercessory prayer, just not in asking for signs.  And, in our case, we're in the middle of Calvary, not looking ahead to it.  We had some hope for this new doctor, our first NaPro visit, but we'd let our hopes swell before... only to be crushed on day 28.

On our drive home, we were treated to about two hours of sunset.  The picture below is proof, I believe, of "Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." (Matthew 7:7)  

There was a mountain and bright light involved, He thought of everything...