May I raise once more an idea that appears in this thread ? The last post in that thread was back in mid-April, and if I post my follow-up in it, I'm afraid others might miss it.
That thread has to do with what is verboten in Christian fiction. There are many things mentioned (profanity, graphic violence and explicit depictions of sexual activity). An industry insider quoted in this thread says "heavy" themes (prostitution, incest, divorce, etc.) are not intrinsically off limits, but practically they are if the authors do not have the requisite skill to treat them with discretion and finesse.
So far, so good. But here's something Patricia posted in message 12 of that thread which I want to examine further:
"Another thing to remember is to try and stay as 'denominational' free as possible. Dogmatic content does not go over well with the average reader."
Perhaps Patricia is correct, though I certainly hope she is not. Moreover, there are probably two things she is mentioning, though the quote above suggests it is only one. Narrative, setting, and dialogue which relies on authentic denominational features, customs, and styles could go a long way to bring texture to a story line. And, this would not necessarily involve anything dogmatic, in the sense of using the tenets of dogma as plot devices.
A couple of examples: Jan Karon's Mitford series, and Ellis Peters' Cadfael murder mysteries. First, Karon ...
Her protagonist is Father Timothy Cavanaugh, an Episcopal priest. I've read more than one reviewer comment on how she "plays down" the Episcopal angle. And, as one who has inhabited that ecclesiastical home for many years, I agree. Sort of.
Let's say that if you read any of the Mitford novels in order to learn the fine features of Episcopal spirituality, you would gather very little that is specific and concrete. On the other hand, as one who lived in an Episcopal Church longer than in all the other Christian denominations of my mongrel background combined, it is easy for me to see that Karon does, in fact, know a lot more (and she knows it accurately) about Episcopal worship and spirituality than she puts into her novels.
So, I would say that Karon does indeed "soft pedal" the Episcopal angle, but it is, nevertheless, very much "there" in her settings.
Peters' work, on the other hand, takes the Catholic rhythms of medieval monastic life in 12th Century Shrewsbury England and rubs our noses in it. I suppose few think of her as a "Christian" author or a writer of "Christian fiction," but that is simply an unfortunate oversight by those who traffic in these things.
Peters' knowledge of the spiritual framework of that age and time and her knowledge of the minutia of a monk's day-in-day-out cycles of prayer, work, worship, work, and more prayer are spelled out explicitly her narratives. Nothing is left for us to guess. And, the result is not off-putting, to judge by all my Baptist, charismatic, and Methodist friends who devour Peters' novels like popcorn.
A third example: the murder mystery novelist P. D. James. One of her most atmospheric efforts is set in an anglo-catholic seminary, and all the suspects are either students, clerics on the faculty, or staff in the seminary. Almost all the story takes place in this setting. And, again, James is spares us no detail of the ornate religious textures, sounds, sights, smells, and routines of life in such a setting. The book was quite successful (as all hers are), and the abundance of "denominational," even some "dogmatic" stuff, played prominently in the story telling.
Oh, I just thought of another example: G. K. Chesterton’s Father Brown murder mysteries, featuring an English Catholic priest as the protagonist. A hundred years after they were written, these are still read and enjoyed, and mostly by Protestants or the nonreligious.
Now, I do not lay all this out to prove Patricia wrong, (though, again, I hope she is wrong!). If she is right, then "Christian fiction" is a sorry thing with regard to this point. There simply isn't any "generic" Christianity out there. The Faith is over 2,000 years old, and the majority of its various denominational communities are several hundreds of years old at the least.
I agree that one might write a novel so imbued with Tennessee Hills Pentecostalism that only someone from that culture could read the book with easy familiarity to all its nuances and depictions. But, still, would not such a novel -- if otherwise well written -- provide just as much, maybe more, interest value to those outside that culture? I don't know squat about that culture, but if the novel were satisfactory on other levels, I'd happily read it simply to vicariously enter that culture and learn about it. All the denominational texture would be icing on the narrative cake.
How about this? Any other thoughts on this idea? Those of you who are writing Christian fiction and making the denominational backgrounds "generic" or "played down," why are you doing this? I won't challenge you. I do want to understand the rationale behind this, since it seems so counter-intuitive to do this kind of thing.
Homesar
That thread has to do with what is verboten in Christian fiction. There are many things mentioned (profanity, graphic violence and explicit depictions of sexual activity). An industry insider quoted in this thread says "heavy" themes (prostitution, incest, divorce, etc.) are not intrinsically off limits, but practically they are if the authors do not have the requisite skill to treat them with discretion and finesse.
So far, so good. But here's something Patricia posted in message 12 of that thread which I want to examine further:
"Another thing to remember is to try and stay as 'denominational' free as possible. Dogmatic content does not go over well with the average reader."
Perhaps Patricia is correct, though I certainly hope she is not. Moreover, there are probably two things she is mentioning, though the quote above suggests it is only one. Narrative, setting, and dialogue which relies on authentic denominational features, customs, and styles could go a long way to bring texture to a story line. And, this would not necessarily involve anything dogmatic, in the sense of using the tenets of dogma as plot devices.
A couple of examples: Jan Karon's Mitford series, and Ellis Peters' Cadfael murder mysteries. First, Karon ...
Her protagonist is Father Timothy Cavanaugh, an Episcopal priest. I've read more than one reviewer comment on how she "plays down" the Episcopal angle. And, as one who has inhabited that ecclesiastical home for many years, I agree. Sort of.
Let's say that if you read any of the Mitford novels in order to learn the fine features of Episcopal spirituality, you would gather very little that is specific and concrete. On the other hand, as one who lived in an Episcopal Church longer than in all the other Christian denominations of my mongrel background combined, it is easy for me to see that Karon does, in fact, know a lot more (and she knows it accurately) about Episcopal worship and spirituality than she puts into her novels.
So, I would say that Karon does indeed "soft pedal" the Episcopal angle, but it is, nevertheless, very much "there" in her settings.
Peters' work, on the other hand, takes the Catholic rhythms of medieval monastic life in 12th Century Shrewsbury England and rubs our noses in it. I suppose few think of her as a "Christian" author or a writer of "Christian fiction," but that is simply an unfortunate oversight by those who traffic in these things.
Peters' knowledge of the spiritual framework of that age and time and her knowledge of the minutia of a monk's day-in-day-out cycles of prayer, work, worship, work, and more prayer are spelled out explicitly her narratives. Nothing is left for us to guess. And, the result is not off-putting, to judge by all my Baptist, charismatic, and Methodist friends who devour Peters' novels like popcorn.
A third example: the murder mystery novelist P. D. James. One of her most atmospheric efforts is set in an anglo-catholic seminary, and all the suspects are either students, clerics on the faculty, or staff in the seminary. Almost all the story takes place in this setting. And, again, James is spares us no detail of the ornate religious textures, sounds, sights, smells, and routines of life in such a setting. The book was quite successful (as all hers are), and the abundance of "denominational," even some "dogmatic" stuff, played prominently in the story telling.
Oh, I just thought of another example: G. K. Chesterton’s Father Brown murder mysteries, featuring an English Catholic priest as the protagonist. A hundred years after they were written, these are still read and enjoyed, and mostly by Protestants or the nonreligious.
Now, I do not lay all this out to prove Patricia wrong, (though, again, I hope she is wrong!). If she is right, then "Christian fiction" is a sorry thing with regard to this point. There simply isn't any "generic" Christianity out there. The Faith is over 2,000 years old, and the majority of its various denominational communities are several hundreds of years old at the least.
I agree that one might write a novel so imbued with Tennessee Hills Pentecostalism that only someone from that culture could read the book with easy familiarity to all its nuances and depictions. But, still, would not such a novel -- if otherwise well written -- provide just as much, maybe more, interest value to those outside that culture? I don't know squat about that culture, but if the novel were satisfactory on other levels, I'd happily read it simply to vicariously enter that culture and learn about it. All the denominational texture would be icing on the narrative cake.
How about this? Any other thoughts on this idea? Those of you who are writing Christian fiction and making the denominational backgrounds "generic" or "played down," why are you doing this? I won't challenge you. I do want to understand the rationale behind this, since it seems so counter-intuitive to do this kind of thing.
Homesar
