“I believe we owe it to each other to tell stories. It’s as close to a credo as I have or will, I suspect, ever get.”
~Neil Gaiman, Introduction to “Locks”
With summer-like temperatures dominating our Mid-western days, it feels as if October has abandoned his chair in favor of June or July. Nevertheless we press on, embracing the spirit of autumn in our reading and our viewing. We’ve passed the half-way point in our reading of Fragile Things, but we still have several great stories to read and to discuss, including this week’s offerings.
For those of you who have not been following along, there will be spoilers in the conversation after the jump.
- Locks
Another Gaiman poem, and another winner for me. I encouraged all of you to read the “Introduction” as we started this group read largely because of the hidden story. If you are not also going back and reading each introductory piece with each story, I highly encourage you to do so with “Locks”. I believe what Neil has to say about fairy tales and telling stories adds dimension to this story, as his comments about his relationship with his daughter adds and emotional resonance.
“Locks” resonates with me for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I am the proud father of a 19 year old girl. A young lady who has not taken to the joy of reading like her mother and I have but one who, to this day, loves to be read to. The poet’s recordings of his daughter’s plea: “Again. Again. Again.” resounds in my heart and in my head, recalling the privilege of fatherly bedtime story duties as well as the book I plan to read aloud to my wife and daughter in November when we go on our annual camping trip.
Whether he is wowing me with stories that engage my imagination or frustrating me with stories that strike me as beneath his obvious talent, Neil Gaiman always makes me think, and he does so with this poem. I don’t believe I ever once truly thought about the plight of the three bears before the first time I read “Locks”. Though mentioned only briefly, that glimpse of the story seen through the bears’ eyes really makes me think. Goldilocks always seemed like a bit of a selfish, spoiled girl, but she was having an adventure and in my childhood I think I envied her boldness and self-assurance. Thanks to Neil I now cannot help thinking of how violated the bears must have felt as they entered to find the sanctity of their home destroyed by a stranger who broke furniture, ate their food, and then committed the ultimate desecration, sleeping in each of the bears’ beds, the place where they find rest and solace and where they dream.
- The Problem of Susan
My thoughts on this story could just as well be titled, “My Problem with ‘The Problem of Susan'”. This is a story I loathe and one that, like “Keepsakes and Treasures”, I just couldn’t read again for this experience. I’ve only read it once and I have no desire to read it again.
Let me qualify my feelings by first explaining that I get exactly why Neil did what he tried to do and I agree that on some level he and all readers of “The Chronicles of Narnia” have a legitimate right to feel frustrated with the way things are left with Susan at the end of the series.
I have two problems with “The Problem of Susan”. One is that, in his desire to tell a “problematic” story, Neil resorts to denigrating the lord of Narnia (and allegorical ‘stand in’ for Christ), Aslan, by having his protagonist dream of a situation in which Aslan and the Witch engage in sexual acts. The second is that I don’t wholly agree with Neil’s assessment of what Lewis was doing with Susan’s character. If The Chronicles of Narnia weren’t a biblical allegory and was instead a more straightforward story, I would probably agree, but my knowledge of the Bible and admittedly limited knowledge of Lewis’ reported plans for the character make me feel that Neil is a bit off base with his frustrations.
One way to see Susan’s story is that she is punished for being interested in “normal” adolescent things, boys and make up and the affairs of daily life. The other is to see that her interest in those things and the way in which this affects her future in Narnia is allegorical, as is the rest of this story. The Narnia Wiki page says what I want to say so much better than I am:
“Lewis may have intended her to represent the good seeds which are “choked by thorns” in the parable of the sower from the Gospel of Matthew. It is also quite likely, that Lewis may have intended to keep Susan for a post-Narnia story, about redemption, but, died before writing it, as he had written to his young fans that Susan’s story was not finished.”
It also states,
“It can also be pointed out that the other children enter into the “new” Narnia (representative of the eternal Heaven) because they have died in a train accident, while Susan remains alive on our world, providing no proof that she has been permanently excluded. Aslan’s last words at the coronation of the four Pevensies offer the best justification for believing Susan will eventually join the others when the time comes in Aslan’s Country: “Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia.””
A person can indeed question whether such a thing needed to be done with the children at all. I can certainly understand people’s frustration that Lewis killed off most of his characters and then treated the remaining member somewhat harshly, especially after the wonderful, magical joy of the other books in the series. I agree with that and don’t understand it myself. But in simply assessing what Lewis actually did, I don’t see his treatment of Susan as a statement against girls liking the things that girls like. I see it as an allegorical representation of the Bible’s admonition to keep focused on things above, and its encouragement to not love the things of the world, things that on their own might not be bad but if given an improper importance steal our attention away from the things that give our life purpose and meaning.
Gaiman could have told this story without making a children’s story dirty. There is no justification for this, not even his statement in the introduction about what he was trying to do. It is a disgusting thing to do with a beloved children’s series.
- Instructions
What? Two poems in this week’s reading selection?!?! I love what Neil has to say in this portion of the introduction:
“I had originally planned that this collection would be prose only. I eventually decided to put the poems in anyway, mostly because I like this one so much. If you’re one of the people who doesn’t like poems, you may console yourself with the knowledge that they are, like this introduction, free.”
“Instructions” is, without question, my favorite Neil Gaiman poem. In its few stanzas it takes the reader on a journey through fairy tales and back and it equally acts as a love letter of sorts to those fairy tales that it references. “Instructions” is the kind of thing I can read and read and read and find different things that leap out to me and make me think. I think it would be fascinating to research the many and varied fairy tales that Gaiman hints at in these lines. I love that Gaiman cannot resist throwing in a nod or two to his own stories, “October in the Chair” for one and my assumption is that the ‘red metal imp’ is from “Closing Time”. The poem also makes me think of the land beyond Wall in Neil Gaiman’s novel, Stardust.
Not too long ago an illustrated children’s picture book was created of this poem, with Charles Vess handling the illustration duty. If you ever get a chance, check it out, it is beautiful.
And this poem is beautiful in and of itself. For those who marveled at the sometimes inexplicable logic of fairy tales as children, and who continue to find it fascinating today, “Instructions” pays homage to the magic we used to feel and the magic we still want to feel every time we open up a book.
- “How Do You Think It Feels?”
This is one of Gaiman’s stories that is hard for me to love, but that I find elements within that I really like. Primarily those elements having to do with the folklore behind the golem and what Neil did with the gargoyle and its role as protector.
I don’t like the protagonist of this story. In so many ways he is a selfish pig of a man. He is also very authentic, showcasing some of the worst of our nature. While I could certainly understand the idea of being attracted to someone who looked like Emma Peel from The Avengers (I LOVE Diana Rigg!), the protagonist makes me sad because he gives in to that attractions, abandoning wife and children to a lie, continuing to live with them while giving his energy and attention to his lusts. When the relationship doesn’t work out (do affairs ever work?), he gives in to his frustration and desperation and creates what in Jewish folklore would be considered a golem, placing within it his seed and imbuing it with the purpose of protecting his heart.
Lesson? Be careful what you wish for.
At first glance it would appear that our protagonist is no worse for wear despite his infidelity. He becomes wildly successful and he doesn’t appear to suffer emotionally from his own loss or from the pain he ultimately created for his wife and children. Later we see that perhaps he has suffered a terrible fate: he is an unfeeling being with no true idea of what he has lost and by giving his heart over to the protection of a monster, he himself has become a monster by default.
This story could be read in many different ways, including seeing it as a morality tale about the wages of sin. The male loses all that is truly important and doesn’t realize it, becoming something of a zombie, and the girl who first ‘led him astray’ meets a grisly fate at the hand’s of her lover’s unseen protector.
Another reason why I have a hard time with the story is the detailed description of the final sex act. Neil himself mentions finding himself “surprised by the sex” upon re-reading it years later. I personally find it a bit juvenile and, like “The Problem with Susan”, is completely unnecessary to convey the essence of the story. It isn’t dirty or nasty, and is quite refreshing after the way sex is portrayed in stories like “Keepsakes and Treasures”, but it doesn’t do anything for the story. Lest I start to sound like the Chief Prude, understand that I find sex a wonderful and beautiful thing and have read many stories where it is an integral and necessary part of the tale. The descriptive nature of this is just not needed in this short story.
Finally, this is the first time I’ve read (er, listened to) this story since Neil Gaiman got a divorce and married Amanda Palmer. While I realize not all relationships last and while I am not approaching Neil’s current happiness with judgement, I cannot help but reflect every time I see a post or tweet about how head-over-heels he is with Amanda Palmer, there is a lady out there who was his wife back when he was a little known writer who is also the mother of all the children he adores. It makes me really sad and this story brought those feelings back to mind. I know sometimes relationships don’t work, but that does not negate the sadness I feel in reflecting on those that fail. They never fail without pain.
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Those were a great deal of fun to write about. I look forward to seeing what you all think of this week’s stories. Please make sure to leave a link to your thoughts below.
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Next week’s stories are:
My Life
Fifteen Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot
Feeders and Eaters
Diseasemaker’s Croup
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This book is a selection for the Peril of the Group Read portion of the 6th annual R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril (R.I.P.) Challenge. To find out more information and/or to sign up to participate, please follow the link. If you are interested in more books or films that are being reviewed as part of this event, please visit the R.I.P. VI Review Site.
That was very kindly said Carl. Although I don’t know the circumstances of their marriage, you are right, no relationship ends without pain. It’s always sad, (sometimes for the best) but always sad 🙁
Thanks Kelly. I hate to make it sound as if Gaiman or Palmer should be vilified for being in love because I don’t believe that at all and now that they are together I certainly hope theirs is a lasting relationship. But that doesn’t assuage my feelings of sadness for his former wife and his children, no matter how equitable the parting was.
The Problem of Susan was my problem story this week too!
On one hand I applaud the fact that the novels made such an impact on Neil that he felt so strongly about the way Susan was handled. On the other I am less than thrilled with the manner in which he expressed his feelings.
Totally agreed on “Locks”… it’s really interesting to me remembering stories from my childhood and then reading them again now (at 25) and seeing how completely different these stories come across to a young adult, and I can only imagine how different they will be again when I have a young adult of my own. Which is the beauty of stories, isn’t it, that they give you something new to think about every time you read them?
Yes indeed, Alison. I couldn’t agree more. “Locks” is one of those stories that I wish I could sit for a few hours with Neil and just have him regale me with the various tales that the poem references.
Just a quick comment on the weather. Cool and rainy here, though we had enough sun yesterday for the crew to stain the new deck, so that’s done. Grey and wet again this morning. Today will be perfect reading weather.
I’m jealous Richard. Glad things cleared up for you guys to get the deck taken care of though. I do hope this next week will see a dip in temperatures (that is what the forecast is) and some rain. Hope you revel in your perfect reading weather today. Soak up some of the atmosphere for me. 🙂
Done. Wife was at a quilting class, so I had the place to myself and made a lot of progress in the current book.
Great to hear! I didn’t get much reading done this weekend, but I did get some down time yesterday afternoon and sat with the windows open on a rainy, cool Monday and read some good gothic fiction. It was a real treat.
Carl, I shall think hard about what you have to say about Lewis and his attitude to Susan: my feelings about him, and it, have become harder over time, partly because I re-read his three adult novels and found it hard to see them as other than misogynistic, even though I didn’t want to.
I might try again with How Do You Think I Feel? as well, but I begin to wonder if there is any place for sex in short stories – because they are short it becomes too prominent. I, at any rate, need the more leisurely pace of a novel to contextualise it. Here it just made me feel grubby.
I loved both poems, and also what you say about reading to your family – how wonderful! Now my sons are grown up I have no-one to read to, and really miss it. I send my brother books that I hope will be read to his daughters – including Coraline – but don’t see them for long enough to read to them myself. I would love to read Stardust to someone!
I’m not nearly as hard on Lewis as others are, although I certainly don’t want to be seen as making excuses for him. I certainly think he was a product of his time on some level and with that comes some less than perfect ideas about how people should be seen and treated. That said I don’t see the need to take away from what he accomplished. His stories have lasted for as long as they have because they touch a cord and do so brilliantly on so many levels. His nonfiction work is also quite amazing. He was a very intelligent person and I find it inspiring and interesting that he was able to embrace the Christian faith despite the intelligence that might otherwise have caused him to reject it. He was a very interesting character, one with his own personal demons and his own issues, to be sure.
I hadn’t really thought of it that way but I am with you on the sex in short stories. Or at least descriptive sex. The story rarely has the length to contextualize it well. When reading it in Gaiman’s work I either feel like I am trying to have my feelings manipulated to feel shock or I feel like I am a peeping tom (as I did with this story).
I read Stardust to my wife years ago. It was her first read through of the book. Same with Neverwhere. I’m fortunate in that my wife loves to be read to as well so even when Tori is gone I will have someone to read to. I read several short stories and usually a couple of novels to her every year.
Oddly enough, “The Problem of Susan” was my favorite this week. I saw Lewis’ decision to exclude her as him punishing her as a character for beginning to have sexual thoughts, which are a natural part of growing up. While Lewis is one of the best fantasy authors out there, he sometimes lets his religious allegory ruin an otherwise awesome story. Not that religious allegory is a bad thing, but there’s a point where it’s too much, and Lewis does that a few times. I really liked the way that Gaiman returned to Susan’s character, and showed her growing up and having to deal with the aftermath of the train wreck. I think I’d like to be in one of her classes.
To me though that explanation just doesn’t work. The rest of the story was allegorical so why would he resort to mere straight up moralizing in the last book? I personally don’t see it simply as a “sex is bad” thing because I can see how he was using all those things as the most fitting example the idea of the things of the world distracting from the things of God. I don’t think anyone else’s interpretation of it is “wrong”, so please don’t think that. I just don’t think you can separate all the biblical layers out of it when interpreting it.
I’m not the biggest fan of allegory, but at the same time I don’t think Lewis was ever secretive about the fact that he was writing his own Christian allegory.
And to be fair, I wouldn’t have minded the story at all if he had resisted the urge to degrade the Christian message of Lewis’ story by having Aslan engage in sexual acts with the Witch. It wasn’t necessary at all for the message of the story. It was the act of a person who was hurt lashing out to be hurtful.
See, I saw the whole thing with Aslan and the Witch as Gaiman’s reflection on childhood innocence, partly because Aslan also ate people in the same scene. I think the point he might have been trying to make is that we remember stories from childhood as being very pure and innocent, but when we come back there’s often a far darker reality, much in the same way that kids imagine childhood as perfect only to later learn about a lot of the problems that were happening around them at the time. I think it was also a critique of excessive power, and how pure ideals can be corrupted by individuals. The story would have worked without it, but I didn’t mind it being there.
That all being said, I now really want to re-read my Narnia books… they were awesome as a kid, but it’s been years since I’ve read them.
I don’t disagree with your thoughts on what Gaiman might have been trying to say, but I do think that it was grossly unnecessary and that the same message could be conveyed without being lewdly disrespectful to Lewis’ creation and to the religious beliefs of others. It would have been bad enough if he treated any of the characters in this fashion, but is much worse when he essentially makes Jesus and the Devil had a sexual relationship and then Jesus devours his followers. It isn’t something I can give Gaiman the benefit of the doubt on. It doesn’t matter to me why he was doing it, it crosses a line for me which need not be crossed.
I agree that there wasn’t really a need to sexualize Aslan in that story. It was so awkward to read, and it didn’t really add anything (in my opinion) to the story that couldn’t be said another way.
I love the quotes that you included having to do with Susan’s “punishment” at the end of the series. It’s much nicer to think that one day she will be able to return, instead of thinking that she is doomed to a normal life, never to enter Narnia again.
At the end of the story, it seemed to hint that she was returning to Narnia, with the appearance of the books on her nightstand, but I’m not sure.
I think we have to consider Lewis’ statements about Susan and his hints that her story wasn’t over if we are going to honestly assess the final Narnia novel. It is unfortunate that he went the route he did with the end of the tale in the first place, but even more unfortunate if he passed away with plans for a further Susan adventure. Plus we have to keep in mind that in Lewis world there was “Narnia” and then there was the “new Narnia” which represented heaven. The idea put forth with Susan’s story is not that she was banished from heaven but that unless she was able to recover her faith in the first Narnia she would not be able to return there.
Funny, we completely disagree about “The Problem of Susan.” Not completely, really, though, as I wasn’t too keen on that sex scene between the Witch and Aslan, either. I just kind of glossed over it, though, focusing less on the fantasy aspect of the story and more on the reality. I agree that “Instructions” is marvelous.
I honestly don’t expect many people to agree with me about The Problem with Susan, so not really a surprise. I look forward to your thoughts.
Instructions is fantastic, isn’t it?
After reading your posts, I always feel like I do a really bad job analyzing Gaiman’s work, much worse than other books I write about. I could blame it on being a full-time student, but I think that it’s more along the lines of failing to form a connection with his writing. I’m thinking particularly of what you said about the golem, and how the man in “How Do You Think It Feel?” turns into a monster, though it’s happened several other times as well. Good insight. I was also glad for your insight on Narnia which I’ve wanted to read for years but have never gotten around to. It’s a much more interesting and well-rounded perspective than Gaiman gives.
Oh Jennifer, you do great. All this really is is an exercise in sharing feelings about the stories and to be honest I have read these stories so many times that I have 3 or 4 or sometimes more passes through them over the years, with conversations with other friends, to draw from in my discussion about them.
I honestly have no idea why the Narnia books did not seem attractive to me as a child. I suspect it might have been that I developed a penchant for science fiction early on and was not reading a lot of YA SFF books so these might have seen to childish to me looking at the covers. I wish I would have read them then.
As an adult I’ve read the first 4 aloud to my daughter and I loved each and every one of them. I had heard enough negative things, even from devoted fans, about the last book in the series and so I chose to just stop while I still had a positive feeling about the books. If anything I would recommend reading The Magician’s Nephew, which does not have any of the Pevensie kids in it. It is a very good book.
The two poems were definitely my favorite and I had a really strong reaction to Locks. The short stories however…not my favorite. But I do appreciate your insight with the golem for How Do You Think It Feels? It helped me look deeper into what this man’s actions have done to him.
I’m with you in that the short stories are ones I can certainly leave behind never to read again. I do thing “How…” is a very well done examination into choices and consequences and so forth but it isn’t an entertaining read, and I generally only want to re-read a work if I get some entertainment value from it.
The poems this week are phenomenal. Love them so much.
I am very happy that I enjoyed both of the poems this week. Go me! It had to happen sometime!