I am currently working through Jonathan Gottschall’s The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human. The title alone is a pretty clear indication of the slant of the book. (As an added disclaimer: I can’t particularly recommend the book. Besides the author’s self-professed atheistic, secular, evolutionary bias, there are a great many less than appropriate examples throughout.) You will probably hear more about this book as I continue reading, but for now just a quick thought on one particular quote.
In talking about the “universal grammar” which is storytelling, Gottschall makes the following point.
“Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction is adamant on the point: ‘Conflict is the fundamental element of fiction. . . . In life, conflict often carries a negative connotation, yet in fiction, be it comic or tragic, dramatic conflict is fundamental because in literature only trouble is interesting. Only trouble is interesting. This is not so in life.’ As Charles Baxter puts it in another book about fiction, ‘Hell is story-friendly'”(52).
Sorry about the lengthy quote, but I wanted to give you some context for the part I want to discuss. Specifically, what do we make of the claim that “Hell is story-friendly?” Gottschall makes this claim based mostly on an equation of conflict equals hell; and since conflict is the absolute basis of plot, stories are therefore fundamentally hell-scapes. If Gottschall is correct, then Christian Storytellers (and that’s most of us, I hope) have a problem. Is the craft of storytelling a celebration of something hell-ish? My response, maybe yours too, is something along the lines of, “don’t be ridiculous!” Everything in mind/body and soul/spirit (to include all you bipartite and tripartite theologians) revolts against the idea. However, it might be worthwhile to develop some kind of theology to ground this initial, and somewhat emotional, response.
I think there are two points to consider. First, man is a creature surrounded by and inclined toward trouble.
Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward. (Job 5:7)
These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)
Sin causes trouble. And because we are sinners we will always be in trouble. But, and this is the second consideration, trouble is not without Divine purpose. Consider these examples from David, a man who knew all about sin, both his own and others’, causing trouble.
Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. Selah. (Psalm 32:7)
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. (Psalm 46:1)
And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me. (Psalm 50:15)
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted. (Psalm 77:2)
Trouble reminds us that we are utterly insufficient in and of ourselves. It drives us back to God as the only remedy for and refuge from trouble. So while Hell may have intended trouble for destruction, isn’t it glorious that God can repurpose trouble for redemptive ends?
Now we can turn our attention back to storytelling. While Gottschall claims that stories are hell-scapes, I would like to propose that this is looking at the issue on its head. Stories are hero-scapes. It is engrained into the very fiber of our beings to expect a hero, messiah, rescuer to save the object of the story from trouble. We have one of the darkest, most emotionally-rich words in our language to denote when the trouble is not averted, when the hero fails — tragedy. (And in this way, I suppose, tragedy does leave with us a bitter reminder of hell. Hell is the end of trouble without the intervention of the rescuer.)
We wait with the remnant in the keep at Helm’s Deep, surrounded by the forces of evil–innumerable, merciless, intent on our complete destruction. We wait with them; the words of Gandalf in our hearts: “Look to my coming on the first light of the fifth day, at dawn look to the east.” And we know in the face of impossible odds that he will come and he will rescue. We know because this plotline has been drilled into us since the beginning of time. Literally since the first promise in Genesis 3, since the first lamb was slain as an atonement for sin, we were taught to look for a rescuer. (Of course we have great theological terms for this: Messiah, Redeemer, Author of Eternal Salvation, Captain of Salvation, etc.)
Stories don’t really revolve around trouble. Trouble is merely the means to a glorious end. The rescuer comes and we are saved. Pretty fantastic, huh?
See? It really is all theology.
Thanks for listening.
Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ; Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.These things speak, and exhort, and rebuke with all authority. Let no man despise thee. (Titus 2:13-15)