Breakfast with Pandora

The blag

Derec Jones, AKA Skint Writer, whose blog has been on my list below and to the right for some time now, has launched a new literary effort called a Blag.

A blag is a blog + magazine = blag, or online literary journal. In the inaugural issue, online now, Jones writes about how an author's readership has now changed. Authors used to be like castaways sending messages in bottles and hoping they'd be answered. Now with the Internet it has become possible to know one's readers:

Some of my imaginary readers have now got names and e-mail addresses and blogs. Without the internet my bottles would gradually decompose and their contents disintegrate without ever finding a fellow human being’s eyes to devour them.

So Derec has assembled a number of other castaways marooned on their own particular metaphorical islands, and has spent quite a bit of time and energy creating an attractive place for their messages to be pasted up.

Go visit, and participate in the future of authors and audiences.

The inspiration of 3:10 to Yuma

3:10 to Yuma, the new Western by director James Mangold, wouldn't have popped up on my radar screen beyond reading the review, except that I was roped into it by a female.

Funny thing. It's not a movie that any marketer would target towards women.

Photo: Bale and Crowe, found here.

It's got two women characters. Both are little more than cameos. The rest is about men, for men, and full of men.

In fact, 3:10 to Yuma taught me more about masculinity-- the traditional, responsible, head-of-household kind-- than any other film, maybe that I've ever seen.

Westerns have never been engaging to me. I have never believed the world that Westerns created. When a gunslinger rides into town with its ploughed dirt main street and its one row of wood structures, to me this screams Movie Set.

Also, I must admit in my wimpiness, the violence is never any fun.

But for some reason the world of 3:10 engaged me-- the same way that the Roman world of Gladiator did. In both pictures, the actors seemed to believe they were in that world.

Russell Crowe was in both pictures, too. This probably had something to do with it. For sure he is one of the best things about 3:10. He is the villain Ben Wade and a fully-realized 3-D character.

And there was Christian Bale, whom I did not recognize, the hero, rancher Dan Evans, a gaunt everyman playing his role as if his life depended on it.

The cussing made it more believable, too. And the killing, though frequent, made sense.

The story wasn't anything complicated. Rancher, kicked around his whole life, is struggling to keep his piece of land from railroad speculators. Helps capture highly dangerous villain, who must be transported to Contention, Arizona from Bisbee, Arizona to be put on a prison train. Villain's highly dangerous gang wants to spring him. No one wants to volunteer to take villain-- except rancher.

Those are the bare bones. It is a plot from 1957, when the first version of this movie was made.

Yet it captured me.

Here's the reason: existentialism.

Yes, I know. Fatal Nerd Vision. But it's true.

Existentialism is the radical philosophy that the most authentic and worthwhile life is that which is lived taking full responsibility for all of one's choices. No whining, no excuses, no fear. Jean-Paul Sartre, the most primary articulator of the philosophy, also advised no religion, which he considered a kind of excuse.

The main character, Dan Evans, is a play-fair kind of guy, certainly a God-fearing man, a Civil War veteran who was wounded in the foot and had it amputated. His younger son has tuberculosis. He's in debt. There's been a drought. His wife and older son have lost faith in him, and God hasn't been answering his prayers. If anyone ever had the right to quit, it's him.

And a lot of men in this day and age have decided to do just that. A lot of men today have opted out of the family-man role.

It didn't happen overnight.

It's been a wacky last 50 years. In the 1940's, World War II reaffirmed traditional, leadership-oriented, head-of-household masculinity. In the 1950's, Westerns codified that way of being. Then women's liberation arrived in the sixties, and all bets were off. In the seventies there was the sexual revolution. In the eighties, the career woman and yuppie. In the nineties, Hillary Clinton became the most influential first lady ever. And now, in the 21st century, Hillary is the frontrunner for the Democratic nomination for president.

Women's status has increased astronomically since the Westerns, leaving men scratching their heads. If women can do anything men can, what is a man supposed to do? It's a confusing time.

Dan is initially confused, too. He doesn't see a way out of losing his ranch, until he gets the opportunity to escort the villain Wade to the train, for enough money to get his land out of debt.

Dan has the opportunity-- throughout the movie, in fact-- to bug out. He sees the danger, but knows what's important, and goes after it, fearlessly.

That is so refreshing, somehow.

It is truly inspiring to see a three-dimensional, imperfect yet good-hearted movie hero live by his principles-- and these are play-fair, family-man, leadership-oriented principles, like in the 1950's. His intention is both to preserve his family and to satisfy himself. Wow. That's powerful.

It makes a guy want to walk a little taller, with a jingle, as he goes back to his everyday life.

As a college freshman, I was fascinated and repulsed by Existentialism. I was just becoming familiar with the advantages and limitations of relationships with other people. It terrified me to think I would have to be on my own.

Now that I'm middle-aged, it makes more sense. If you are a man and going to live this life, do it with full realization of what you want to get out of it. If you want to be responsible and play fair, do it. Be proud of it. Don't be afraid of anyone or anything, because you understand the worth of what you want.

So much more to say about this one. Maybe in another post.

See you in Contention, pardner.

Which Greek god is your Myers-Briggs type? - II

As this is a continuation of an earlier post, click here for an intro and the relevant links to the Myers-Briggs personality test.

This time I'll do only four divinities, since I had an email from a reader saying that my previous one with six  was something of a laborious slog.

Athena, INTJ. I admire INTJ's. They are highly intelligent and proud of their learning. They are also sure of themselves and can be know-it-alls. They are the opposite of the neurotic self-doubter. They work relentlessly for practical good. They can make excellent mentors and-- hey, wait a minute. The goddess Athena is all these things. She turns theory into practice. As mistress of the cash economy (olive oil, textiles) and military strategy, and inspirer of heroes, Athena uses her intelligence to make civilization better. Of course, if she were to read this, she would think this was all a bunch of psychobabbling hooey.

The negative INTJ is a "Crackpot."  "Ever been kissed? Ever been on a date?" [No!] says the Brutally Honest Myers-Briggs test. Check. Athena is a virgin.

Apollo, INTP. The INTP is a know-it-all who tortures himself with the possibility that he doesn't quite know it all or totally measure up. He is an absent-minded professor with a neurotic streak. He is logical boy strikes again. Apollo is the master of many intellectual and theoretical arts-- music, mathematics, prophecy, medical diagnosis (which is a kind of prophecy), and religious purification. He is not so concerned as Athena with the practical world and making it better. His love life is a disaster. He never marries, and his human lovers often meet a terrible end.

The negative INTP is a "Loser," which seems strange for Apollo, apparently the Ideal of Ancient Greek Humanism and God of the Sun. But if you look at Apollo's actual myths, you find a set of mostly unhappy endings, brutality, and lonerism.

Artemis, ISFP. The major trait that Artemis shares with the ISFP is love of nature and animals. Artemis is a great protector of the wild, and a shy being who "sees much but shares little." Artemis' nature as a hunter and taker of revenge on transgressors leans away from the ISFP type, however, which does not have a need to control. Artemis thus has a kind of split personality that is more like nature-- which both protects and destroys-- than a human being.

ISFP on the negative side = Loner, with a hint perhaps of the revenge factor: "And woe and behold if it betrayed your intense values system!"

Hephaestus, INFP. The INFP's major traits are creativity and a desire for harmony in relationships. INFP's are extremely imaginative and sometimes seem to live in a world of their own creation. They are the original neurotic artist and writer type. They also hate conflict and want to maintain harmony at all costs, except when they've been pushed past their limit. Hephaestus is one of the only Greek gods who does not inflict pain and suffering on human beings. Just the opposite-- he was thrown out of heaven by Hera and smashed his leg on the ground, permanently disabling him. In the Iliad, he is the god who attempts to restore harmony by clowning.

And his inventions and creations made of metal are legendary. He creates a set of metal robots as helpers, is an crafter of exquisite metal weapons (the shield of Achilles is his handiwork), and he also creates an intricate trap with near-invisible wires that trusses up his wife Aphrodite and her lover Ares, catching them in the act of adultery. Hephaestus is less hung-up and more accomplished than the usual INFP, and good for him.

Hephaestus is not just handy, like the village blacksmith. He is a true artist, and is celebrated along with Athena as a patron of Athens, the original city of artisans and creative people.

The Brutally Honest test calls INFP's pollyannas, which makes sense for Hephaestus. Peacemakers always get a raw deal.

Comment #500, you're a winner

This weekend, a guy or gal named Alex commented on my Greek gods and Myers-Briggs post, and thus bestowed BwP with the five-hundredth comment of the blog's existence.

Alex, if you should happen to be interested, you have won a free BwP post on the topic of your choosing.

Or if you want me to mail you coupons for a free Whopper and fries, let me know.

Thanks to all who read (and comment on) BwP. The new paradigm of fame is now, not that you can be famous for fifteen minutes, but that you can be famous for fifteen people. I believe I'm up to 4 now. Only 11 to go.

Your Questions: Have you seen this god?

Had an email from a fan of the TV show Supernatural, which apparently has some devoted followers. Before the email I knew nothing about the show, and even now what I know comes from here and here.

But the fan had a great question about an "amulet of protection" which Dean, one of the principal characters, wears. You see to your left a photo of the amulet in question, which hangs from a leather thong.

Speculation online-- from what I read-- has centered on either Egyptian or Mesopotamian origins. I commend all the sleuths who have been researching Near Eastern bull men. The Hittite (Bronze Age Near Eastern) Bull Men Hurri and Sherri were in my dissertation, and are known to about 16 other people worldwide. Go, Hurri and Sherri!

But the amulet is not from Egypt or Mesopotamia. To be from the Tigris-Euphrates area, the figure would have to be heavily bearded. And Egyptian divinities do not have bull horns.

As near as I can figure, this amulet is inspired by images of Baal-Hadad, the (Bronze and Iron Age) Syrian storm god whose attribute is a bull. The photos below somewhat make my case, although I believe that the amulet itself comes from a modern artist's interpretation of ancient artifacts, rather than being a faithful copy of an actual amulet.

Come to the conclusions that you will concerning the meaning, symbolism and implications of this piece. I know it will be confusing to some that a demon-hunter might wear the symbol of a pagan god around his neck. Or maybe it explains some things. We'll see if my interpretation seems convincing.

One other possibility-- the Syrian war-god and god of plague Reshep, who also had an Egyptian incarnation, was very similar in attributes to Baal and had antelope horns on his headdress. The antelope was a native of the upper Euphrates, now modern Syria. There is an attractive Egyptian statue of Reshep that is unfortunately not on line.

Reshep is often identified with the Greek god Apollo, and does not have the negative connotations that Baal has in the Judeo-Christian world.

Photo left: Storm god relief from Ugarit (Ras-Shamra, Syria, Bronze Age). Note the helmet and horns. If you have access to a library or to the JSTOR online research resource, see Near Eastern Archeology 63.4 (2000), 216-219 for some spectacular photos of Ugaritic Bronze Age finds in the Louvre.

Photo next to it: Bronze Baal figurine now in the Louvre, no horns.

It is interesting to me that all the north-eastern Mediterranean cultures, including the Greek, had storm gods identified with a bull. Zeus even brought the Canaanite girl Europa from the Near East to Greece, swimming there in the guise of a bull with her on his back. What a ride that must have been.

Happy researching, all.

Recommended: In Search of the Castaways

I sift through my childhood as an archeologist sifts through levels of earth. The payoffs for the archeologist are more practical-- tenure, for one-- but like a digger of dirt I also sometimes make delightful finds.

One such recent gem was In Search of the Castaways, a Disney film from 1962 that starred Haley Mills and Maurice Chevalier, adapted from the Jules Verne novel, Captain Grant's Children.

There were movies long ago where that old cliche of never wanting the story to end became for me a deep-felt reality. In the days before VHS and DVD, sound-track albums-- like the one from Swiss Family Robinson we played till the record player broke-- were the only way to feed a movie jones.

In Search of the Castaways was different. I saw it as a very young child in the sixties, on some kind of second run years after it came out. I don't remember why or where it was playing, and I don't remember why we went to see it. I just know that it was a huge and welcome surprise, and though it retreated to the back of my consciousness, I never really forgot about it.

Castaways concerns two children, Mary and Robert Grant, whose father is a long-lost sea captain. They have made the acquaintance of a French geography professor (Chevalier) who has discovered a message in a bottle, with the latitudinal coordinates of where the father is marooned. The problem is that the longitude is unknown. Mary, and have to convince Captain Grant's boss, Lord Glenarvan, to go in search of Captain Grant.

My memory of the film had been reduced, after these many decades, to the scenes of the search party caught in a flash flood in Argentina, taking refuge in an enormous rain tree, and being stalked by a jaguar.

All that came flooding back, so to speak, when I found the movie in my local video store. Who knows whether Netflix has it and who cares. Praise be to VisArt.

Anyway, the movie has very much aged gracefully in my heart, and as a bonus I got to hear Maurice Chevalier sing a sentimental but true song about life and living the hand that God has dealt to you. "Enjoy it," is Chevalier's refrain, and for this guy who dreams about parallel universes, that's an important message.

I also saw in Hayley Mills a prototype of Emma Watson's Hermione Granger.

It is all very improbable and fantastic, but for a young boy it was magic, and it still is.

What Greek god is your Myers-Briggs type? - I

Some folks believe the Myers-Briggs personality test is about as insightful into human nature as one's horoscope. I know one INTJ who is convinced about that. But he would be, after all. He is an INTJ.

I use Myers-Briggs daily in my interactions with others, to understand where they are coming from, and to help me understand my strengths and limitations. Some think it reductionistic to classify everyone in 16 different types. But there is a lot of room for variation, and if it doesn't work for a certain person, there's no need to worry about it.

That old meme, Which Greek God Are You, is always popular among my readers. I thought I'd do a different kind of semi-meme: What Greek god is your Myers-Briggs type? This isn't to show you that you are like a god or goddess, but that the ancient Greeks--especially Homer-- gave divinity human personality.

Besides, you wouldn't like to be most of the Greek divinities. Their bad behavior falls in line with this Myers-Briggs "Brutally Honest" meme, which tells you the bad side of your type. As an INFP, for example, I'm a pollyanna (Thanks to MoominLight for the original link).

If you want a reader-friendly introduction to this test, go here.

For the rest of us, we begin with the older Olympians, the children of the Titans. In another post I will put in the younger Olympians, who are all children of Zeus.

Zeus: ENTJ. The "larger-than-life" natural leader who enjoys putting his theories into practice. A human ENTJ may sometimes be considered dictatorial, abrasive, or impersonal; for Zeus this is just business as usual. One description of an ENTJ says that his "trademark" statement is "I'm sorry you have to die," which sounds a lot like what must have happened with Semele, the mother of Dionysus. Zeus had fallen in love with her and promised her anything (ENTJ's often have "strong affections and sentimental streaks"). Hera, Zeus' jealous wife, came to Semele as an old lady and encouraged her to ask Zeus to reveal himself in his true form. His "true form" was a lightning bolt, but Zeus could not go back on his word. Zap. So sad you have to die.

Here's ENTJ in a negative form, accurate for Zeus, I think.

Hera: ISTJ The ISTJ is a dutiful person who, when she thinks she is not appreciated, will fly into sudden rages. Hera, as goddess of marriage, is also mistress of tradition and the way it's always been done. The ISTJ also seems cold, aloof, and unemotional, which could explain why Zeus feels he has to always go elsewhere for his female companionship. Hera's revenge on Zeus' lovers correlate with the ISTJ's conviction that the rules should not be broken. Read Iliad Book 14 for a wonderful scene of Hera getting herself sexed up for a seduction of Zeus that is really about getting justice for her Greeks.

The negative ISTJ is called a "Borefest."

Demeter ESFJ This is the natural mother type, and according to some explanations of the Myers-Briggs test can be highly manipulative. They are rescuers and stand by their children, but also can put on guilt trips and fly into rages. Demeter's personality for me is best seen in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, where she attempts to retrieve her daughter Persephone, but then gets sidetracked and attempts to make a human child immortal by tempering him in the hearth fire. When the child's mother expresses grief and horror at the sight, Demeter demands worship. Whoa, mom.

The negative ESFJ emphasizes their softer ("Sap") side: "Turn off the waterworks, woman!" But ESFJ's do have hard edges. In the Homeric Hymn, Demeter wins over Zeus.

Hades ESTJ: Hades is often called the Chthonic ("Earthbound") Zeus, and the ESTJ is a leader like an ENTJ, but much more bound by tradition, much more interested in hanging with the group. Hades' main job is to enforce the rules of the Underworld Country Club, whose members include All The Dead People In the World. Hades is not at all like the villainous character in the Disney movie Hercules. He is much more boring than that. He only gets mad when he doesn't get what's coming to him. One might think that Hades was being wild and crazy when he stole Persephone away to make her his bride in the Underworld. But it wasn't that much of a departure for him: after all, he asked Zeus first.

The negative ESTJ profile calls an ESTJ "bland, inflexible, offensive , and no fun at all... like a bag of salt lacking potato chips, a year past its expiry date."

Poseidon ESTP: The ESTP is a doer-- an active person who can't sit still. Poseidon is the god of horses, earthquakes, rivers, and the sea. He is often depicted riding the waves on his chariot. He is the creator of the horse. He is also the one who attempted to drown Odysseus because O. hurt his son Polyphemus, the Cyclops.

ESTP on the negative side: "Perhaps if you calmed down a little, people wouldn't be so scared of you."

Hestia ISFJ: Hestia is the goddess of the hearth, and as such is seen but not heard. The ISFJ is the most invisible of the personality types, often called a "doormat" because of her desire to serve. Hestia is a perpetual virgin dedicated to the service of the home. As such, there are no stories about her except that she refused the sexual advances of many gods.

The negative ISFJ is called "Pushover."

Back to school: Arachne-phobia

Tonight for the first time in months I have thrown open the windows to let in cool air. There was a delicious evening walk with a fingernail moon hanging low; crickets still pulse, but it's fall, at least for a day. Across America and Greece, school is in.

Photo: The temple of Poseidon at Sounion, from across the bay.

Elementary school teachers are stapling leaves to bulletin boards, and preparing lesson plans on Greek mythology for their K-5 charges. No doubt many if not most of those plans include the tale of Arachne.

Arachne, a mortal, challenged the goddess Athena to a weaving contest. As we know from many other stories of this type, Arachne was doomed to lose. And not only did she lose, Athena turned her into a spider for her trouble.

In some versions, this story is claimed to be the ancient Greek explanation of where spiders came from.

I would very much like for teachers to give this story a rest. The version we all know did not come from Greek mythology, but from a poet named Ovid in a poem called Metamorphoses ("Transformations"). There is no evidence that this was a story told by Greeks to Greeks, if we believe Timothy Gantz's Early Greek Myth.

And not even Ovid says the story explains where spiders come from. That was a creation of the nineteenth century, when western Europeans believed that Greek myth was supposed to be nothing but explanations.

I'm under no illusion that anyone will change her ways just because I asked. It is a good thing that Greek mythology is taught by anyone, anywhere.

But maybe there's something else teachers can emphasize besides just the origin-of-spider idea.

The Arachne story has some delightful details, which tell us a lot about Ovid and the time in which he was writing.

It turns out that this contest between Arachne and Athena is not just about who can weave the best. It's about who can weave the best story.

Long ago, textiles, like pottery, were used as a kind of still movie. Large rugs and tapestries could be woven to contain pictures, frequently of mythological tales. In the contest, both Athena and Arachne put a huge amount of mythology into their fabric, mostly about the gods. And Arachne's is particularly full: Ovid, who wrote in Latin, peppers his description with Greek names:

addidit, ut satyri celatus imagine pulchram
Iuppiter implerit gemino Nycteida fetu,
Amphitryon fuerit, cum te Tirynthia, cepit,
aureus ut Danaen, Asopida luserit ignis,
Mnemosynen pastor, varius Deoida serpens.

"She added [in her tapestry] how Juppiter, disguised as a satyr, impregnated the beautiful daughter of Nycteus [Antiope] with twin offspring, how he was Amphitryon when he took you, daughter of Tiryns [Alcmene], how as a golden shower he deceived Danae, how as fire, the daughter of Asopus [Aegina], how as a shepherd, [the mother of the Muses] Mnemosyne, how as a spotted snake, Proserpina."

[Click here for an etext/hypertext version]

All of this is extremely complex and full of allusions, hence all the explanatory brackets. Also, Arachne was interested in making fun of the gods, and so in this section put in all of Jupiter's adulterous affairs.

The number of mythological names per capita in Arachne's version is much larger than in Athena's version, and even she sees that Arachne has succeeded better as a storyteller than she has.

Athena, in a rage of jealousy, beats Arachne, who tries to hang herself, and it is then that Athena turns her into a spider.

So this is not really about textiles. It's not about being a better maker of fabric. It's about whose story is better. In other words, who is a better poet? Athena, the original INTJ, was never famous for her poetry.

For those who know Latin literature, this poetry contest looks a lot like Ovid trying to call attention to a pop-culture contest of his own day: the great god of poetry, recently crowned, was Vergil, whose Aeneid had become an all-time best seller. All epic poetry that came after-- for the Aeneid was an epic-- had to stand in the shadow of that great work. The epic Metamorphoses shivered in this shadow.

Now Ovid was a poetic genius. He had an outsized ego and was famous for it. So it would make sense to cast himself as Arachne, the overconfident weaver of stories, and set himself up against a divinity, Athena (= Vergil). Then he could have some fun on his reader by showing that he (Arachne) was really better than Athena (Vergil).

But Ovid pokes a little fun at himself by showing that his competition with Vergil only ends up changing him into a very small and insignificant creature-- albeit one that weaves some pretty webs.

So, assuming that this interpretation holds any water at all, what has this to do with a fifth-grade classroom?

Change the focus.

Instead of saying that the Greeks used myth to explain things and that Arachne was the first spider, emphasize that textiles could be a form of storytelling. If possible, use white t-shirts and fabric paint to get students to weave (paint) their own stories. Or use large sheets of paper and markers to make a tapestry of stories.

Emphasize the authentic details of the story, not fantasies about the story. And let students know that there is a context to myth. "The guy who wrote this was a poet himself who was competing with another poet."

Write me if you want more details or have other questions about this.

And enjoy the crispness of the season, once it comes in its harvest moon fullness.

Narcissist gods, redux

Once a BwP post is a few days old I usually don't get comments on it, but today was different and I want to call attention.

Almost a year ago I wrote a post here concerning Greek divinities. I wrote how the amoral, demanding, often random and terrorizing behavior of these beings in myth mirrors that of clinical narcissists.

Now a reader who has personal experience with being married to a narcissist for a long time confirms that her husband's behavior was very much divinity-like-- as she puts it, he created a false self or idol that he compelled his family to worship.

Click on the link above to read her experience. I'm honored she decided to share her story, and I hope she will find other places to spread the word.

Madeleine L'Engle, from strength to strength

Madeleine L'Engle was an inspiration to me.

Passing on into God's hands at age 88, she leaves behind a world that still needs her graceful approach to imagination and faith.

Most accounts of her life celebrate her Newberry Award-winning novel, A Wrinkle in Time. But her fiction doesn't stand out in my mind and life.

Her masterpiece, to me, is a set of reflections on creativity and faith entitled Walking on Water.

When I decided to live out consciously my life as a follower of Christ, I figured my fiction-writing days were over. I was pretty sure God wouldn't be happy with my writing anything that contained curse words, sex, or any other questionable behavior. And I was smart enough to know I wouldn't be able to stand writing sanitized stories like that.

Plus, I figured writing was frivolous based on the deep needs besetting humanity: reaching out to the lost and broken, discipling those starting out in the faith-- building up the Kingdom, in the jargon. No place for "secular" fiction in my world.

But of course if you have a seed of compulsion for telling a well-made story, it doesn't matter what philosophy you subscribe to. That seed is going to burst and something is going to grow in you.

So as a young man I came to Madeleine L'Engle, who contended in Walking on Water that the writer of faith is not constrained by subject matter.

Incredulous, I found her address and wrote her. I do not have her reply to me-- written on a tiny piece of St. John the Divine Cathedral letterhead-- and filled with typos, to my considerable astonishment. She wrote that nothing is secular in God's world, because God made the entire creation. Therefore it is all sacred, and it is all worthy of the writer's attention. The only thing that is not sacred is that which man has twisted and robbed of its spirit.

L'Engle calls this quality of the world Incarnation, "God's revelation of himself through particularity." This quality is found in all art that sings with a spirit of life, or points to the goodness of God in any way, Christian-created or not. L'Engle writes:

If I cannot see evidence of incarnation in a painting of a bridge in the rain by Hokusai, a book by Chaim Potok or Isaac Bashevis Singer, in music by Bloch or Bernstein, then I will miss its significance in an Annunciation by Franciabigio, the final chorus of the St. Matthew Passion, the words of a sermon of John Donne.

L'Engle asks us to be open to God in every form, every corner, every moment.

We live by revelation, as Christians, as artists, which means that we must be careful never to get set into rigid molds. The minute we begin to think we know all answers, we forget the questions, and we become smug like the Pharisee who listed all his considerable virtues, and thanked God that he was not like other men.

All of L'Engle's inspirational words have not stopped there from being a multi-million dollar market of "Christian" books, written for people who believe that curse words and sex should not be in books read by Christians (you can still have violence, however). Just for the experience of being published, I once came close to being paid to write a novel for this market.

But I have taken on Ms. L'Engle's attitude towards creation, and towards myself.

I finally was able to reason that if I was a member of God's creation, and God gave me a gift to write fiction, then it was my duty and service to exercise that gift. All other service is well and good, but the important thing is to find the deep gift inside and bring that out.

If the work comes to the artist and says, "here I am, serve me," then the job of the artist, great or small, is to serve.

Thank you, Ms. L'Engle. Peace be to you, may you go from strength to strength in God's service, and pray for me and the world.