Concordia in Literature

Reading and talking about literature are foundational components of our concordia. As we affectionately say, “Friends who read together, stay together.” So, why is this true? How does literature both create and sustain concordia?

Literature knits us closer together because we’re human, and studying literature is an innately human endeavor. We have found that literature allows us to take part in the Great Conversation (one between all readers and writers) and also develop our own micro-conversations. In her book Reading for the Love of God, Jessica Hooten Wilson states “human beings are word creatures, and Christians especially should be bookish creatures” (p. 12). Reading provides us with a shared cultural memory to engage with as we attempt to find meaning in our lives and cultivate virtue. We keep the literary tradition alive by repeatedly seeking its wisdom and warnings. Studying literature within your concordia is like knowing a secret code to communicate. Our favorite authors and stories have become our inside jokes, sources for encouraging quotes, and allusions in our writing.

As we considered the value of literature within our group, we recognized four characteristics of literary concordia.

1. It is invitational.

Literature, by nature, is meant to be read and discussed with others. In fact, literature invites us to engage in conversation. It is very rare to discover a reader who has no opinion about the work he or she has just read. Because literature is written by humans and about humans, each character often displays both virtuous and unvirtuous behavior. We believe some characters make the right decisions, and others choose poorly. But in literature, as in life, these are not typically black-and-white answers. They require analysis, consideration, and the attention of devoted readers to decipher meaning.

When we looked at our inspirational concordias, we noticed that each of them began through the discussion of literature and writing. The Inklings, for example, came into being as a room of literary greats (C.S. Lewis and J.R.R Tolkein) considered each other’s writings and stories. The Bluestockings group was initially a book club led by women, who wanted to participate in the literary conversation of their contemporaries but could not forsake their household duties. Eventually, men joined the group, and it became a place where some of the most prolific writers of the 18th century first shared their work (such as Anna Barbauld, Elizabeth Montagu, and Edmund Burke). There is something profoundly beautiful about diverse thinkers humbly sharing their opinions and writings with one another. Literature invites us all to participate in these conversations, and who knows what revolutionary work might emerge from your concordia!

2. It is healing.

C.S. Lewis’s Experiment on Criticism discusses the healing power of literature and its role in concordia. Without undermining individuality, literature allows us to see our own thoughts reflected back on us. Lewis describes that we all experience a wound of feeling that we are alone. When we ask the question “Am I actually alone?” literature resounds “No, you’re not.” In this way, literature is the salve to our wounds. As F. Scott Fitzgerald writes, “That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely or isolated. You belong.” Every story is a tension between the wound and the salve and the healing process. When we participate in this healing process communally, we experience catharsis by realizing we are not alone in our present situation nor in the history of our humanity. Many stories, such as The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, allow us to witness the healing of others. As Eustace becomes the dragon, we also recognize our own tendencies for complaining and pride. When Eustace’s scales are removed, we, too, believe that our healing is possible. We are able to find healing before we are turned into dragons ourselves—or worse!

3. It is eternal.

Literature is a time capsule, a tool by which writers may transcend the confines of their own earthly time and speak into the Great Conversation. In this way, the best authors have immortalized their words in the literary canon, allowing readers like us to humbly approach their very words. In our readings, we are allowed a glimpse, a taste, a touch of eternity, the very thing for which our souls yearn. C.S. Lewis states this idea best when he says things of this world cannot fulfill certain desires, therefore we must know that “we were made for a different world.” As humans, we long for something beyond ourselves, something eternal and transcendent. Though we long for things not made with hands, we can still come to understand ourselves and our situation better by pursuing these undying things. Through literature, we are able to view humanity through the lenses of many generations, gaining a more complete and composite view of humanity. Again Lewis (as he often does) explains it well, saying when he reads literature, “I become a thousand men and yet remain myself… I transcend myself and am never more myself when I do.” Our transcendence through literature allows us to reach beyond the restrictions of earthly time, peer into the minds of great thinkers, and immerse ourselves in their worlds, all while remaining ourselves as we train up our imaginations and continue to learn about what it means to be human.

4. It is didactic.

Finally, literature is didactic, meaning it teaches us something. This does not refer only to the learning of important authors, works, genres, etc. (because that will happen, of course), but it will teach us about ourselves as humans in ways that no other subject can. Take, for example, this quote from R.W. Livingstone’s essay on why literature is important:

As science reveals to us the physical constitution of ourselves and of the world around us, so the humanities reveal to us, man… Anatomy and biology, while they have much to say about his body, throw little light upon his behavior, nor explain why he makes a French Revolution or a European War, why he is a miser or a spendthrift, a Machiavelli or a Frederick the Great.

While not an attempt to disparage the natural sciences, Livingstone does note their ineptitude at rendering firsthand experience with raw, unfiltered humanity like literature often exemplifies. When we read literature, it teaches us (or it should if it is good literature) humanity and how we can become better at that mode of existence. We learn from literary examples those aspects of human existence which we do and do not want to emulate. For example, we read of the Greco-Roman heroes like Achilles, Odysseus, and Aeneas because we want to model their bravery and honor but abstain from their anger and impetuosity. After we participate in truly good literature, we should come away with a new knowledge about humanity and, therefore, our neighbors and ourselves. Concordias should regularly cite their literary heroes in conversations and writings to sharpen one another.

To quote Lewis again: “We want to see with other eyes, to imagine with other imaginations, to feel with other hearts, as well as our own… We demand windows; literature as Logos is a series of windows, even of doors.” Here, Lewis accurately observes that our souls crave windows, i.e., ways to look out into a world beyond ourselves. Literature serves as our windows into other worlds. Paradoxically, however, these windows reveal more about ourselves than the outside world. Literature is that place where we peer out to look inward. We hope that you will experience these four attributes of literature within your own concordia book study.

References:

• C.S. Lewis, The Reading Life

• R.W. Livingstone, Why Literature Matters

• Jessica Hooten Wilson, Reading for the Love of God