S1-E6: Writers Block When Your Imagination Stops Talking to You
S1: Theology and Imagination
E6: Writers Block When Your Imagination Stops Talking to You
Reading is indispensable, you are doing it right now! It has humongous value, so no one should feel less by reading a book from cover to cover. In fact, any reader should sense new possibilities are open to them after the final page is turned. Reading is what St. Augustine (354-430) believed could fathom the depth of the heart. If so, a book does its job by affecting the reader within its pages leaving the words of Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1804-1873) uncontested:
“The pen is mightier than the sword.”
Books are not just poignant; they are worth sniffing, especially the aroma of an old book.
Inhaling an old book tells a story in itself, and there is even a word for it – bibliosmia (act of smelling books). It is the distinct scent of history. If this sounds anything like you, there is also a word for that - bibliophagists (a voracious reader of books). Ravenous readers cannot help but agree with the Argentinian author Jorge Luis Borges, “I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.” Imagine that, heaven with an endless Library of Congress containing the lost works from the Library of Alexandria!
Back to reality. An old book is not just the combination of aged leather, paper, ink, font, and binding. It is an author’s work that holds their imagination in a timeless state, especially if the book is a story.
Admittedly, there are books for the moment and books that seem to last for all time.
Think about the enduring stories authored by William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Jane Austen (1775-1817), William Thackery (1811-1863), Charles Dickens (1812-1870), Jules Verne (1828-1905), Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910), George Orwell (1903-1950), T. S. Eliot (1888-1965), and J. D. Salinger (1919-2010). What immortal imagination!
With a little research, it is not difficult to discover an author’s influences and intentions behind their work. For instance, in an interview about his novels, Walker Percy talked about ex nihilo (from nothing) saying,
Who or what influenced Percy is not hard to find by investigating his life.
While authors are not separable from their work, contemporary interpretation or sense-making can be downright detached. If dead authors were resurrected back to life their reactions to contemporary interpretation would undeniably be the stuff of comedy, satire, and drama.
For example, William Shakespeare may belly laugh at how sexualized his plays are currently understood. In all probability, Jane Austen would blush while listening to book club discussions about her alleged promiscuity. William Thackery would certainly become enraged at the very thought of being second to Charles Dickens; and Dickens would deny any claim that Christmas was his invention. Jules Verne may be a little embarrassed at his scientific guessing; and, like Thackery, the rage of Leo Tolstoy could become aroused at the idea he suffered with a bad temper. Along with Verne, George Orwell would be a little flustered at what actually happened in 1984. T. S. Eliot would probably break the internet after posting his reaction to conspiracy theories on why he became a British citizen. And, J. D. Salinger may do the same regarding theories about his girlfriend marrying Charlie Chaplin.
Though influences and intentions of an author’s work can be reasonably identified, interpreting material outside of the author’s experience is nothing short of wacky. How could Jules Verne know it only takes fifty-one hours to travel around the world today! Eighty Days is neither economic nor a practical use of time. So, let’s go back to the inclinations of an author.
J. K. Rowling identified the British author, Elizabeth Goudge, as one of her significant influences while writing the Harry Potter series. Goudge wrote novels, short stories, and children’s books. She is delightfully honest in her autobiography. “You lose your heart to a place, an avenue of trees, or a character who walks in and takes sudden and complete possession of you. Imagination glows, and there is the seed of your book.”
Carson McCullers, the American novelist, short story writer, playwright, essayist, and poet is equally honest. “The focus comes at random moments which no one can understand, least of all the author…it comes from the subconscious and cannot be controlled.”
Similar to the delightful honesty of Goudge and McCullers, Lewis said,
“At first there was not a story, just pictures.”
In his own words, Lewis described those pictures as a faun with an umbrella carrying parcels in a snowy wood, a horrid queen on a sledge, and a magnificent lion. There was nothing Christian about these images, “That element pushed itself in of its own accord. It was part of the bubbling.”
These three images were carried around in the imagination of Lewis from the age of sixteen. Twenty-four later at the age of forty, Lewis said,
“Let’s try to make a story about it.”
As he began to write, the lion came bounding into his thinking...
“I don’t know where he came from or why he came. But once he was there, he pulled the whole story together, and soon he pulled the six other Narnian stories in after him.”
Lewis knew very little how the Narnian stories were born in the sense that he did not know where the images came from. “And I don’t believe anyone knows exactly how he ‘makes things up’”
If the stories of Narnia began with pictures, is the same true for other authors who wrote stories? Undoubtedly, it was for Goudge, Percy, and McCullers. They started with their own experience where imagination glowed at random moments from something that was already there. But like Lewis, they made no claim to how that “something” got there. If authors of the past were resurrected, Shakespeare would probably say the same for Romeo and Juliet, as Austen would for Pride and Prejudice. Perhaps Thackery would agree about Vanity Fair, and Dickens for A Christmas Carol. Maybe Verne would do the same for Around the World in Eighty Days, as would Tolstoy for Anna Karenina. Orwell could agree about 1984, Eliot about The Hollow Men, and Salinger about Catcher in the Rye.
Authors and their experiences are a means to determine the influences behind the story, but something began in the imagination that was surprising, compelling, and captivating. It is this “something” that Lewis claims no author can actually describe. Even so, intellectuals have made attempts. For example,
Johann Goethe (1749-1832) would explain a faun, witch, and lion as hidden metamorphosis; Wilhelm Wundt (1832-1920) as psychological recollections; and, Niels Bohr (1885-1962) would describe images in terms of quantum physics. I would have paid a fortune just to listen to Lewis publicly respond to these academic claims. Let’s stay with Lewis.
By reading Surprised by Joy a student would quickly identify George MacDonald (1824-1905) as a significant influence on Lewis. Reading The Great Divorce endorses this claim. In both cases, Lewis clearly writes MacDonald’s influence into the material. Even so, his influences do not help in finding how a faun, witch, and lion were made up. So, let’s move from Lewis back in time to MacDonald.
Similar to Percy, McDonald believed that human beings could not create ex nihilo (from nothing).
The difference between God and human beings is what McDonald calls an “un-passable gulf which distinguishes all that is God’s from all that is man’s…. between that which makes in its own image and that which is made in that image.”
“Everything of man must have been of God first.” So, did God inspire a faun carrying parcels, a witch driving her sledge, and a talking lion? Obviously not. Neither am I suggesting Shakespeare, Austen, Thackery, Dickens, Verne, Tolstoy, Orwell, Eliot, or Salinger were inspired by God.
I am suggesting they all had the ability to imagine.
MacDonald suggests human imagination takes old and pre-existing forms and embodies them in new forms.
Asking where Lewis’s images came from is not the right question, and probably the reason why he could not answer it himself.
A better question would be where does the human faculty of imagination come from?
According to MacDonald, human imagination is made in the image of the imagination of God.
You too have this God-given ability.
Have you been carrying images in your imagination for some time? Do they sit there in the corners of your mind occasionally letting you know they are still there? Has a particular song, movie, or conversation gathered these images together in a way that makes sense? Have you momentarily lost your heart to a place, an avenue of trees, or a character who walks in and takes sudden and complete possession of you?
What is stopping you from saying like Lewis, “Let’s try to make a story about it.” Perhaps God and the world are waiting for you to write.