On battles and body counts and doing the right thing
This entry was posted on Thursday, June 21. 2007 and is filed under Fantasy,Posts by Chris Walley.
Battles are pretty much an essential part of epic fantasy. You’ve all read the sort of thing I mean: that climactic clash of arms that sees thousands of villains destroyed and our heroes triumph. I now know it from the writer’s side: I’m just tidying up my big battle for the last volume of the Lamb Among the Stars.
However battles, especially large-scale battles, pose problems for Christian. From a writing point of view, we need our readers to feel exhilaration, relief and joy as the foes of the righteous are utterly crushed. Yet as Christians, and I hope, thinking Christians, we survey the field of carnage with concern. Shouldn’t we also feel a note of unease for the enemy fallen? Of course, if they are robots or nonhuman then, I suppose, gloating is alright. But many of our battles involve men and women. Isn’t there something unseemly in delighting in the deaths of thousands, or tens of thousands, of human beings, even if they are utterly in the wrong?
It seems to me that writers adopt two techniques to get us round this problem. The first is to make our evil characters unnamed and faceless. Who for instance, ever shed a tear over the countless stormtroopers who perish throughout the Star Wars series? By making the warriors of evil anonymous, and not the sons of parents, the husbands of wives or the fathers of children (or the female equivalent), we dilute the agony of war. Evil people become an abstraction, and abstractions can be erased. The second way round this is to make our bad people so evil that their utter annihilation is essential. Here the wicked are demonized so that their destruction is the rendering of a just and righteous act.
The curiosity of the great monument that dominates our own genre, Lord of the Rings, is that here Tolkien, otherwise a shrewd moralist, uses both of these techniques. So we find that the hordes of Mordor are almost all nameless (literally so, in one case). And lest we be sympathetic, we know nothing of their world. Even the portrayal of Mordor as a blasted wasteland entirely populated by male adult soldiery of the nastiest sort helps distance the forces of Sauron from the humanity and hobbits. Evil is so utterly featureless that there is no point at which it grabs our compassion. The orcs and their kind are simply sword fodder. Tolkien also plays the second trick, so that those who serve Sauron are not just anonymous but also morally appalling. They have no conduct but brutality, no wisdom but cunning, no civilization but violence. Demons walk amongst them. Incidentally, Peter Jackson’s films make things even worse. There, in an objectionable feat of cinema, evil people are all disfigured. Since when, one asks, has physical disfigurement been equivalent to moral evil? You may (or may not) like to discuss this in your nearest burns ward.
Once recognised, Tolkien’s treatment of evil is curiously unnerving. I do not think there is much in Lord of the Rings that Hitler would have liked; there is too much in praise of weakness and too little in praise of power. But here, I think, he would have thoroughly enjoyed it. Faceless and merciless hordes massing in the East, whose destiny is to be mown down by the forces of good? Wunderbar! Here Lord of the Rings is at its most cartoonish, and the most worrying. For an author who knew of the horrors of war it is all very odd.
Now I’m trying not to sound like a pinko, woolly, liberal pacifist here. I believe that one day, God will judge the wicked in a devastating way. I recognize that praying ‘your Kingdom come’, implies our desire for the crushing of those who have rebelled against God. But, thankfully, that utter obliteration of evil is in God’s hands and he is perfect in justice and love. (Yes, I know about the Wars of the Lord in the Old Testament. But they were under another covenant and at another time. And, as a recent commentator points out, they basically lasted only for a generation.) I am just wary of the dehumanization of those who are our enemies, especially in these troubled days.
After all, dehumanization carries with it a double danger. The obvious one is that we treat others as so diabolic that all that we can offer them is wrath rather than grace. The less obvious, but more insidious danger, is that by demonizing villains we overlook the salutary lesson that, in many cases, they once stood where we stand now.
However battles, especially large-scale battles, pose problems for Christian. From a writing point of view, we need our readers to feel exhilaration, relief and joy as the foes of the righteous are utterly crushed. Yet as Christians, and I hope, thinking Christians, we survey the field of carnage with concern. Shouldn’t we also feel a note of unease for the enemy fallen? Of course, if they are robots or nonhuman then, I suppose, gloating is alright. But many of our battles involve men and women. Isn’t there something unseemly in delighting in the deaths of thousands, or tens of thousands, of human beings, even if they are utterly in the wrong?
It seems to me that writers adopt two techniques to get us round this problem. The first is to make our evil characters unnamed and faceless. Who for instance, ever shed a tear over the countless stormtroopers who perish throughout the Star Wars series? By making the warriors of evil anonymous, and not the sons of parents, the husbands of wives or the fathers of children (or the female equivalent), we dilute the agony of war. Evil people become an abstraction, and abstractions can be erased. The second way round this is to make our bad people so evil that their utter annihilation is essential. Here the wicked are demonized so that their destruction is the rendering of a just and righteous act.
The curiosity of the great monument that dominates our own genre, Lord of the Rings, is that here Tolkien, otherwise a shrewd moralist, uses both of these techniques. So we find that the hordes of Mordor are almost all nameless (literally so, in one case). And lest we be sympathetic, we know nothing of their world. Even the portrayal of Mordor as a blasted wasteland entirely populated by male adult soldiery of the nastiest sort helps distance the forces of Sauron from the humanity and hobbits. Evil is so utterly featureless that there is no point at which it grabs our compassion. The orcs and their kind are simply sword fodder. Tolkien also plays the second trick, so that those who serve Sauron are not just anonymous but also morally appalling. They have no conduct but brutality, no wisdom but cunning, no civilization but violence. Demons walk amongst them. Incidentally, Peter Jackson’s films make things even worse. There, in an objectionable feat of cinema, evil people are all disfigured. Since when, one asks, has physical disfigurement been equivalent to moral evil? You may (or may not) like to discuss this in your nearest burns ward.
Once recognised, Tolkien’s treatment of evil is curiously unnerving. I do not think there is much in Lord of the Rings that Hitler would have liked; there is too much in praise of weakness and too little in praise of power. But here, I think, he would have thoroughly enjoyed it. Faceless and merciless hordes massing in the East, whose destiny is to be mown down by the forces of good? Wunderbar! Here Lord of the Rings is at its most cartoonish, and the most worrying. For an author who knew of the horrors of war it is all very odd.
Now I’m trying not to sound like a pinko, woolly, liberal pacifist here. I believe that one day, God will judge the wicked in a devastating way. I recognize that praying ‘your Kingdom come’, implies our desire for the crushing of those who have rebelled against God. But, thankfully, that utter obliteration of evil is in God’s hands and he is perfect in justice and love. (Yes, I know about the Wars of the Lord in the Old Testament. But they were under another covenant and at another time. And, as a recent commentator points out, they basically lasted only for a generation.) I am just wary of the dehumanization of those who are our enemies, especially in these troubled days.
After all, dehumanization carries with it a double danger. The obvious one is that we treat others as so diabolic that all that we can offer them is wrath rather than grace. The less obvious, but more insidious danger, is that by demonizing villains we overlook the salutary lesson that, in many cases, they once stood where we stand now.
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Thursday, June 21. 2007
E Stephen Burnett wrote:
I concur with your points, Chris, and submit that a Christ-honoring write, aware of God's seemingly paradoxal nature of both mercy and wrath, must strive hard to find a balance. Characters who are evil must not be dehumanized to the point where we "gloat" over their demise, yet we must never also sympathize overmuch with their plight that justice does not bring righteous satisfaction and we begin to doubt the right of a holy God to mete out His wrath and punish evildoers.
"Incidentally, Peter Jackson’s films make things even worse. There, in an objectionable feat of cinema, evil people are all disfigured."
I would also submit, though, that although Tolkien (and those who adapted his three-part novel for film) portrayed most evildoers as grotesque and disfigured, at least Peter Jackson (and Phillipa Boyens, Fran Walsh, et. al.) ensured to insert at least one element in the fantastic and extended version of The Two Towers that reminds us of one sober reality of war -- that not all of its participants, even on the Evil side, are thoroughly saturated in Evil.
In the film, soon after Frodo and Sam encounter Faramir, the Gondorian captain observes the body of a young man from the South, who has fallen to one of the Man's arrows.
FARAMIR: "The enemy?" (The captain walks over to the dead man he shot and turns him over with his foot.) "His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem." (He looks into the young man's face as he continues.) "You wonder what his name is ... where he came from. And if he was really evil at heart ... what lies or threats led him on this long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there ... in peace. War will make corpses of us all."
Scenes such as these can poignantly remind viewers (and readers) with the horror of war and violence, and the utterly disgusting nature of sin. They make us long for a better country in which the former things have passed away. They can bring within us a longing for Evil to be eradicated at last ... "when all turns to silver glass."
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Chris wrote:
Some helpful thoughts.
My wife says that these lines in the film are lifted from Sam's thoughts in the book. But they make the point.
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Chris wrote:
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Thursday, June 21. 2007
Shannon McNear wrote:
Good thoughts, Chris. I've wrestled over this one, myself.
I asked my husband once how a military man reconciles the horror of war with the need for it. His answer was not what I expected. "Do you know what it's like when a grenade goes off?"
I stuttered, trying to figure out where this had come from and where it was going. "No, but I can imagine ..."
"You can't," he said flatly. I was shocked, a little offended. He went on to say something to the effect that when you've seen what men will do in the grip of evil (the slaughter of innocents, which he must have witnessed, I later realized--a bomb going off in a marketplace), you realize that certain lengths are necessary to stop that.
Maybe not a viewpoint all would agree with, but one that must be considered. Does the necessity of war then preempt spiritual concern for the enemy? It's a hard question, and indeed, I can sympathize with those who chose pacifism down through history (although I'm not, obviously, one myself).
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Thursday, June 21. 2007
Kameron wrote:
I'm not sure if by "disfigurement", you just meant the orcs were ugly compared to the forces of good, or if you referred to actual violence that altered their features. If the latter, I believe, in at least some instances, the disfigurement was self-imposed. The Mosaic law had commands against tattooing and other disfigurement, so as to distinguish the Israelites from the pagan cultures.
And while God no longer directly leads nations against other nations to execute judgment, Romans 13:4 reminds us that He does appoint governments to be "God's minister, an avenger to execute wrath on him who practices evil." I think a Christian can and should feel joy at the triumph of good over evil, but should not revel in the violence, even if it be necessary.
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
I'm going to preface this by saying that to say, "Oh, God just did that for a little while," is simplistic. The flood. The plagues. The conquest of Canaan. The law's designation of capital crimes. The destruction of the Assyrians. The atonement of Christ. The sword in the hands of government. The coming wrath being poured out. And everlasting Hell.
Do not paint God so pacifistically. He is not wimp.
Now, that said, I believe we should be very concerned with the enemy, because we are commanded to pray for them. Why? Well, we are all in the same need of a Savior. We are all prone to do evil. We are all, to some extent, misunderstood by the "other."
I like the idea of putting a face on some baddies. But I think we can't put a face on all of them. Satan and the demon world--we still don't utterly understand why they are evil, why they go against the work of God, but they do. So, there is a mystery to evil, just a there is a mystery to grace and holiness. To have an utterly faceless enemy is wired into the human psyche, I believe, because Satan is faceless to us. We don't see him or touch him, but the's there, and he is malevolent.
Disfigurement, Ugliness as Evil: This is a longstanding tradition (the witch with her ugly face and mole, the troll, etc). Beauty is truth. Does that mean Ugliness is Deception?
I befriended a severely, utterly disfigured man years ago. And he was very sensitive to the portrayal of the ugly as evil. He talked about how this had real impact on HIS life and the life of those like him. When we train kids to think of "wicked" as ugly, then when they see ugly people, they assume they are wicked and should be thrown sticks and stones, as it were. Run the monster out of town.
And while I was sensitive to this before--to the extent that I had written characters who were ugly or disfigured but honorable and virtuous--I also understand that there is something very primitive, archaic at work. We know at some level that we were destined, created for and slated for, ultimate perfection. So, what is not perfect stems from the fall. Sin leads to illness, deformation, death. So, I think the repulsion is a repulsion, at root, to sin, to.
That is also simplistic, there are many factors to why we respond to beauty and shy away from what is ugly, and there are mysteries there, too, and Darwinian theories, and philosophical ponderings, but it boils down to this:
Be aware of what you are writing and why.
Why is your villain thus, why is your hero thus, and how do you use beauty and ugliness, killing and healing? And how do you depict the other, the enemy?
We find out things about ourselves in asking those questions. And we can become better writers, and more informed readers.
Mir
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Chris Walley wrote:
Mir,,
Thanks for all this. A couple of points.
My reference to the Wars of the Lord in the OT was not that 'God just did that for a little while," it was that God only required his people to destroy all other humans for a little while. There are now no such Holy Wars; the only issue is surely whether we opt for pacificism or for war as a last resort. I take the latter view.
The beauty as good, evil as ugly issue is an an interesting and tragic one. The beautiful benefit twice; the ugly are double losers.
Hmm; more food for thought
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
I don't know if there aren't such Holy Wars now. If a nation like Israel, say, has that land by rights of God's promise and covenant, than to fight against those who would take it away is a sort of Holy War, a continuation of what occurred in the OT.
For the Church, well, we have no land here that is given to us. But we have ideals of justice and right action. And sometimes, sadly, wars must be fought to prevent tyrants from gaining greater hold and oppressing more and more people. But that's a governmental, civic, etc decision, and we must come to it via reason mixed with prayer. Wars are, as I agree with you, a last resort. I am no pacifist. And while I believe it's valuable to hear the pacifistic voice now and then to keep us from being utter warmongers and hasty to war, I don't admire pacifism. I find it cowardly--to enjoy the fruits of freedom won by men and women willing to fight for it, while refusing to fight for it, is to be a parasite. I see pacifists as a kind of parasite feeding freely from what warriors have won.
Mir
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Kingsman wrote:
Mir,
Whoa there! "If a nation like Israel, say, has that land by rights of God's promise and covenant, then to fight against those who would take it away is a sort of Holy War, a continuation of what occurred in the OT."
For a start, there can only be one
nation 'like Israel; with... rights of God's promise and covenant.'
But let's go easy on the idea that the present political state of Israel has a right to a holy war.
Many evangelical Christians would see all the promises to Abraham fulfilled in Christ and in the global church. They would suggest that Christ was rejected by his ethnic people. They would point out the absence of any references to 'territory' or 'the land' in the letters of the NT. They would point out that the present nation of Israel is a largely secular state. They would point out that many of the victims of the founding and expansion of the State of Israel have been Arab Christians. And so on....
And to pre-empt an argument: this is not anti-Semitism. Many of those concerned about Israel as a state are Jews or sympathetic to Judaism.
In summary: I think we need to be careful about Holy Wars in reality or in fiction.
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
There's plenty of talk about Israel in the NT, and since it did exist as an entity on a particular plot of land, a people in its place, then I take the context that this was theirs, and removal from there was punishment for their unbelief (as prophesied). Likewise, their return was prophesied, so that's their land and they have a right to hold it. I, as a Christian, have no land given unto me but the New Jerusalem yet to come. I have no turf to fight "holy war" for. I do believe Israel does. And while the state may be secular, many Torah observant Jews live there. The promise was to Abraham's seed, and even if they do not believe, they are still his seed, like it or not, physically.
And I"m his seed spiritually.
Which is fine by me.
We can disagree. That's cool. But I feel that Israel has a right to that land, and that they were given it back after so long an exile is also the will of God. To hold it is a holy war.
MIr
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Kingsman wrote:
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Chris Walley wrote:
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Chris wrote:
Mir,
For what its worth, my money is with Kingsman on this. I suspect UK Christianity is more cautious than its US version on the present State of Israel. But then our eschatology is less Pre-Mill.
Of relevance to this group is the way that image, as much as theology, has shaped Christian support for Israel. Israel supporters have sought for it a sort of mythological status; presenting it as a classic tale of 'heroic little good-guy' vs 'big bad guy; even a modern retelling of the 'old cowboys and injuns' tales. But as the Native Americans no doubt point out,such mythologies may mislead us.
Chris
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
God never promised the Indians America or any other nation. Nor the British. Nor the current US citizens.
The story of Israel, well, that's a whole nother matter. And the long trail of anti-semitic barbarities says something of how much Satan himself goes after it, even if one considers the covenant breached.
God keeps His Word, and what I see in Scripture is a whole lotta of that word having to do with Israel. I'm not about to raise my hand against that particular brand of anointing.
Mir
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Friday, June 22. 2007
Mir wrote:
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Monday, June 25. 2007
Terry wrote:
I have thoroughly enjoyed following this discussion, and agree that there's no quick answer to the question of the Christian's place in conflict. One philosophy to which I do subscribe is reflected in the quote (I scuff my toe - I don't recall the author), "All that is necessary for evil to flourish, is for good people to do nothing." I find my hackles rising when I hear of or see injustice done, and I think that perhaps this is the Holy War for today's believer - to take back spiritual ground from the usurper, and to stand in the breach for those who are unable to stand for themselves.
I wonder if perhaps the reason that injustice often carries on so long, is that God is waiting for His people to take up their responsibilities and fight the enemy in His Name. There is, I think, scriptural precedent.
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Monday, October 29. 2007
Mark Lucashu wrote:
I believe the quote is from CS Lewis.
I agree that on one hand, the "enemy" in a story needs to have a face of some sort, otherwise we fall into the trap of pitiless destruction: we feel so justified in obliterating terrorist insurgents and enemy soldiers that we never consider that evil rarely KNOWS it is doing evil: the entire reason people support evil regimes (Hitler's for example), is because they think they are doing good, or at least, that the good outwieghs the bad. On the other hand, we have the conundrum of demons in our own world, who clearly know they are rebelling against the good, all-loving God, and choose to anyway. They have chosen so to the point of their very being, appearance, and character being changed. So I think there needs to be a balance in our writing between the faceless enemy you feel no remorse seeing cut-down by laser fire (Chris Walley's own robot-wolves, the name of which escapes me, or the demonic forces of Chaos in the Warhammer universe) and the semi-human enemy that produces some sort of pity, if not mercy, in the reader (the Seperatist leaders under Count Dooku in Star Wars, or Gollum in Lord of the Rings).
The former are monstrous beings that deserve nothing more than death: to use Tolkien's words, "they can have no other end" because of their very nature. Some evil, Satan, for example, now exists to be exterminated. There can be no redemption for ones such as these.
At the same time, the latter are beings with human characteristics that have, for one reason or another, fallen farther into sin/evil/corruption than the average human/being to the extent that, as enemies seeking to destroy the good, they must be destroyed. It's the difference between killing and murder: to kill your enemy in war, when the enemy would clearly kill you and others otherwise, is not wrong: God commands it in the Bible and gives soldiers and the government the right to mete out that justice. To slay a person who harmed one of your friends, however, is to fall farther than they have, because you KNOW the truth.
I agree with what Terry said, that God expects us, as Christians and as citizens of the country, to not only defend our country and our families, but to fight for Him for those who cannot: the oppressed, the widowed, and the crippled, if you will. Wanton murder is never upheld: to fight in a war under the authority of the government, in the name of God, for the justice and righteous freedom of the oppressed, however, is a noble cause: and I think Tolkien would agree with that.
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Monday, October 29. 2007
Mark Lucashu wrote:
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