Inspiration from a True Story
Mirrors to God’s Image
Good Storytellers
Stories Reveal Humanity
Good Art Heals
Finding Reality
Story Gives Us Courage
Stories Bring Meaning
Striving Toward Truth
Definitions of Myth
Myths Speak to the Universal Human Spirit
The God of Story
We Must Know Our Craft
Interdependence
Art Is a Participatory Event
Readers Co-Create with Artists
The Reader’s Essential Role
An Important Collaboration
Co-Creators with God
Stories Must Be Believable
Impossible Possibilities
Storytellers Search for Truth
Fiction in Search of the Truth
The Truth of Art
Truth and Fact
Writers Reveal Truth
The Truth of Fiction
Fairy-Tale Writers Reveal a Reality Beyond
Children Need the Truth of Myths
Underwater Worlds
Myths Help Us Find Our Way Home
Recapturing Wonder
Why We Tell Stories
The Glory of Writing
Appendix I: Sources for This Book
Appendix II: Index of Selections and Sources
Appendix III: A Chronology of Madeleine L’Engle’s Life and Books
Appendix IV: Books by Madeleine L’Engle
About the Compiler
Reader's Guide by Lindsay Lackey
Foreword
I first encountered Madeleine L’Engle Herself more than fifteen years ago, shortly after I’d devoured Madeleine’s landmark treatise Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art. It was hard to imagine how a collection of Madeleine’s quotes, compiled by someone else, could possibly expand on what the author had already said so well. But I was wrong. As soon as I opened the first page, I knew: Here was something wholly unique, a treasury of wisdom that belongs on the shelf of every L’Engle fan—of every writer, for that matter.
For starters, you don’t need to know much about the 1963 Newbery Medal–winning author of A Wrinkle in Time to grasp just how valuable this collection is to those who pursue, or want to pursue, the writing life. A literary giant pulls back the veil on an otherwise mysterious enterprise through her iconic frankness, her practical advice, and her affirmations that writing is a worthy vocation. Yet she also hangs on to mystery: “The artist understands, sometimes intuitively rather than intellectually, that God speaks to us in the cloud.” She tells us that her first novels were written longhand rather than by typing on her father’s pre-WWI Remington, which required “a pair of pliers and a hammer because the e kept slipping”—and she shares this, not to shame or even to motivate us, but to emphasize the very nature of writing as work, as a job like any other. A job with such an aura of mystery that even those who pursue it professionally, like Madeleine herself, can’t quite explain how it’s done. But that doesn’t stop her from trying.
Secondly, while Madeleine peppers her material with quotes from writers such as George Eliot, Anton Chekhov, and Ralph Waldo Emerson—all of which she’d memorized—she herself was, according to children’s books historian Leonard Marcus, “the most quotable of writers,” with a “notable flair for the orphic and revelatory.”* A friend of mine can recite entire sentences of Madeleine’s verbatim, like one repeats passages of Scripture. That’s how powerful her words were when he first read them as an aspiring novelist from a conservative Christian upbringing: They sink into the heart, become mottoes for life. And he’s not the only writer to tell me so.
The third thing that strikes me is this book’s accessibility. Each entry is just a few hundred words long, nothing overwhelming, the perfect dose of insight. For those with no time to read all sixty-ish of Madeleine’s published works (!), we are the beneficiaries of Carole F. Chase’s labor of love. As the curator of literary anthologies myself, I can confirm that for every quote Carole included, there are no doubt hundreds more abandoned somewhere in an overstuffed file. This collection is a welcome distillation.
I’m also struck by the fascinating balance between the timeless (“Why does anyone tell a story? It does indeed have something to do with faith, faith that the universe has meaning”) and the quotidian (“Have you discovered Robertson Davies? Robertson Davies is a Canadian writer”). In the space of a few short entries, a literary icon switches from imparting life-changing oracles to effusively fangirling about another author. There’s something delightfully humanizing about that combination.
Finally, I can’t overstate the sheer dogged fidelity of Carole’s research. Her work goes back decades: as a professor teaching college-level classes on L’Engle, as an attendee of Madeleine’s many writing workshops, as the author of various L’Engle tributes, and, most important, as someone whom Madeleine counted as a friend. Not only did Carole mine the pithiest sayings from some of Madeleine’s better-known books—such as Walking on Water, A Circle of Quiet, and The Rock That Is Higher—but she also dug deep into the broader L’Engle corpus, including audio recordings available only by camping out at such places as Wheaton College’s Buswell Memorial Library. Who among us has sat, headphones in place, pencil or keyboard at the ready, transcribing the long-vanished words of a masterful orator—for days? If nothing else, we owe Carole a back rub and a week of home-cooked meals.
Writing can be a lonely endeavor. But, as Carole has reminded us, we are in tremendous company. She deeply understood that good words, like Madeleine’s, are to be treasured as well as passed along to others, which are the two purposes of great literature. When we sit at our desks, arranging sentences, we are not participating in an isolated enterprise. We are called to our task by the Maker who made us, by a God who gives us this good work to serve. And then our words will go out into the world; they will be shared with readers, who will, we hope, share them with others. We may sit in solitude, but we are not alone.
Especially when accompanied by Madeleine herself.
—Sarah Arthur
* From Leonard S. Marcus, ed., Listening for Madeleine: A Portrait of Madeleine L’Engle in Many Voices (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2012), 13.
INTRODUCTION
Ask Madeleine L’Engle how she teaches writing and she will tell you that she does not teach writing. In fact, she believes you simply cannot instruct people in the art of writing. As thousands of individuals who have sat in her writing workshops and read her books over the past five decades will tell you, Madeleine may not teach people how to write but she certainly inspires them to unearth the writer within.
What readers and students find is that Madeleine does not teach writing, she teaches people. As readers of Madeleine’s books know, the workshops she leads and the people she interacts with provide important contributions to her life and writing. I have had the privilege of attending several conferences Madeleine led at Aqueduct Conference Center in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and two two-week writers’ workshops she taught at Mundelein College in Chicago, Illinois. To give you an idea of who Madeleine is and how she teaches, let me give you some background on what her workshops are like.
From the outset, Madeleine creates a community among her students. She does this on the first day by inviting them to share their personal stories as a means of getting acquainted. Because of Madeleine’s warmth, openness, and informal style, as well as their familiarity with her writing, Madeleine’s students come eager to learn and with the expectation that so
mething wonderful is about to happen.
Through her firm but gentle persuasion, Madeleine quickly has everyone thinking, talking, singing. One of her favorite songs is “Ubi caritas, et amor, Ubi caritas, Deus ibi est.” (Translated from Latin, that means “Wherever there is charity, wherever there is love, there God is.”) Those who come to the workshops are of the Christian faith, other faiths, or no faith. Yet all who come soon understand that their instructor is a deeply committed Christian who learns to teach from the Holy Spirit.
One of Madeleine’s favorite assignments is to ask her class to write a midrash. After explaining that a midrash is a commentary on Scripture that attempts to fill in details but does not change the story, she makes her assignment: “Pick a biblical character and then write a midrash about him or her. These are the rules: you may think as long as you like, but you may write for only half an hour. Tomorrow you will share these stories with each other.”
What happens? The next day when everyone reads his or her story, there is laughter, tears, singing, and lots of applause. All the while, Madeleine affirms the writers exactly where they are. Attention is focused on two things during this time: the students and their stories.
After all have read their stories and talked at length about the ideas the stories generate, Madeleine gives the assignment for the next day: “Write about one of the happiest times in your life. Think all you want, but you may only write for half an hour. Bring what you write to class tomorrow.”
That evening, Madeleine’s students (ranging in age from nineteen to over seventy) think and think, and finally spend that precious thirty minutes at their computers or typewriters. The next day everyone reports in. The stories are glorious. Imagine listening to two dozen stories of joy! As the reading proceeds, someone’s story provides that moment of inspiration that opens up the group for even deeper sharing.
Madeleine’s writing workshops are spiritually as well as intellectually renewing. During my two two-week workshops at Mundelein College in Chicago, we went on several picnics. There was a minister in the class, so an ecumenical worship service celebration of the Lord’s Supper was held. Some of the sisters from Mundelein’s Order of the Blessed Virgin Mary took part in the workshop and in the worship service.
Inspired by Madeleine’s creative assignments and her praise for our stories, by the end of the workshops we had gained greater confidence in our writing, learned to take risks, and, indeed, learned to be better writers. It is true, Madeleine does not teach writing. Instead, she creates a safe space for writers in which she midwifes the birth of latent talent. Her standard advice to aspiring writers is well tested: keep a journal of personal responses to your everyday life; read the great books; write every day. Because she said we were writers, we could begin to believe that we were.
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Storyteller, woman of faith, and friend to many, Madeleine L’Engle has provided readers of all ages with wonderful and full-of-wonder stories to read for over fifty years. For decades, she has encouraged individuals of all ages to write their own stories. Hundreds of thousands of individuals have read and thrilled to Madeleine’s books. Many students have benefited from the way Madeleine does not teach writing.
The volume you hold in your hands is a compilation of Madeleine’s spoken and written words. Taken from several workshops and books, this is a collection of Madeleine’s reflections on writing and the writing life for all those readers and writers who love the way Madeleine thinks and writes and shares her faith.
Because of the special nature of this book, it is important that the rationale for its organization and selections be explained. Excerpts from several of Madeleine’s nonfiction books remain as they appeared in their original form. This means that you will sometimes read autobiographical passages written in the present tense from Madeleine’s earlier books.
The workshops presented a different challenge. The words you will read are from several workshops transcribed from over two dozen audiocassette tapes in the L’Engle collection of Buswell Library at Wheaton College in Wheaton, Illinois. Some of the workshops were conducted in the seventies. Others are more recent. I’ve made every attempt to quote the exact words of Madeleine, even if they make reference in the present tense to events and conditions that are part of her past. At the same time, I have made some minor editorial adjustments to clarify words Madeleine spoke in the informal workshop environment. I have also made minor punctuation and spelling changes. It should also be noted that Madeleine is referring to both men and women when she uses what is now considered noninclusive language.
The selections from both the books and workshops are arranged into ten sections. An index will help you find the source of each selection. The book also includes “A Chronology of Madeleine L’Engle’s Life and Books” that I prepared for Suncatcher: A Study of Madeleine L’Engle and Her Writing. This chronology makes it easy to locate certain events in Madeleine’s life and follow the order of the publication of her books. I have also included a list of books Madeleine has written.
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As her readers and listeners know, Madeleine writes with authenticity and personal detail. She loves golden retrievers, Bach, words, candlelight dinners, good conversation, good jokes, laughter, and quiet moments. Perhaps her greatest gift is her ability to translate intangible and invisible things of the spirit, both human and divine, into tangible and visible pictures through her stories. Prayer, worship, and the reading of great books and Scripture nurture her faith and accompany her vivid and fertile imagination.
Here you will read of the delight and the effort and the wonder of writing from someone who is intimately close to words and faith. With Madeleine, who understands writing to be a response to a loving Creator, I invite you to respond creatively to her wise words born out of a lifetime of “serving the gift.”
—Carole Chase
Section I
SERVING THE GIFT
Artists and Their Art
In art we are once again able to do all the things we have forgotten; we are able to walk on water; we speak to the angels who call us; we move, unfettered, among the stars.
GIVING BIRTH
I’ve experienced the pain and the joy of the birth of babies and the birth of books, and there’s nothing like it. When a child who’s been conceived in love is born to a man and wife, I think the joy of that birth sings throughout the universe. The joy of writing or of composing is much the same thing. I think all our lives are a process of births, of continuous births. And each of these births does involve pain.
AN INCARNATIONAL EVENT
Obedience is an unpopular word nowadays, but the artist must be obedient to the work, whether it be a symphony, a painting, or a story for a small child. I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius, or something very small, comes to the artist and says, “Here I am. Enflesh me. Give birth to me.” And the artist either says, “My soul doth magnify the Lord,” and willingly becomes the bearer of the work, or refuses; but the obedient response is not necessarily a conscious one, and not everyone has the humble, courageous obedience of Mary.
TRUE ART
All art, good, bad, indifferent, reflects its culture. Great art transcends its culture and touches on that which is eternal. Two writers may write the same story about the same man and woman and their relationship with each other. One writer will come up with art and the other with pornography. There is no subject that is not appropriate for the artist, but the way in which it is handled can sometimes be totally inappropriate. True art has a mythic quality in that it speaks of that which was true, is true, and will be true.
ART NAMES US
God asked Adam to name all the animals, which was asking Adam to help in the creation of their wholeness. When we name each other, we are sharing in the joy and privilege of incarnation, and all great works of art are icons of Naming.
When we look at a painting, or hear a symphony, or read a book, and feel more Named, then, for us, that work is a work of Christian art. But to look at a work of art and then to make a judgment as to whether or not it is art, and whether or not it is Christian, is presumptuous. It is something we cannot know in any conclusive way. We can know only if it speaks within our own hearts, and leads us to living more deeply with Christ in God.
ART REFLECTS ETERNITY
All artists reflect the time in which they live, but whether or not their work also has that universality which lives in any generation or culture is nothing we can know for many years. Also, art which is truly iconographic for one period may have little to say to another. My parents, who were in their thirties at the time of the First World War, loved Romantic music, Chopin, Wagner—how they loved Wagner! But Wagner has little to say to me. The reasonable, peaceful world in which my parents grew up, the world which was far too civilized for war, was broken forever by the horror of World War I. My father went to fight in the war to end war, and for the rest of his life he had to live with the knowledge that not only had his war not ended war, it was the beginning of a century of near-total war.
My generation, and my children’s, living in this battled and insane period, find more nourishment in the structure of Bach and Mozart than the lush romanticism of Wagner. Wagner is fine if the world around one is stable. But when the world is, indeed, in chaos, then an affirmation of cosmos becomes essential.
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