“Having been raised in northern Scotland under the intellectually doctrinaire rigors of Scottish Presbyterianism, as a student in the early 1840s at King’s College, Aberdeen, [George MacDonald] was restless and searching for a more satisfying orientation to life. His discovery of the German romantic writers, such as Novalis and Hoffmann, revolutionized his thinking, for they illustrated for him the indispensable role which the imagination must play in developing a truly viable Christian faith.

“Most of MacDonald’s fantasies are fine examples of the fairy tale genre. As a child he loved the rich tradition of Scotch and Irish — Celtic and Gaelic — fairy tales, and his genius lies in his ability to create the unique atmosphere and tone that produces the singular effects of that literary type. Fairy tales convey their meanings in a unique manner. They speak to the reader’s inner life, posing images and events that appeal to the subconscious and therefore address a person’s unique inner struggles and concerns.

“They have a very important function in the life of children, helping them to come into a healthy relationship to the mysteries of life, achieving effects quite beyond the ability of realistic stories. Bruno Bettelheim explains:

Fairy tales, unlike any other form of literature, direct the child to discover his identity and calling, and they also suggest that experiences are needed to develop his character further. Fairy tales intimate that a rewarding, good life is within one’s reach despite adversity — but only if one does not shy away from the hazardous struggles without which one can never achieve true identity.

“What is true for the child is no less true for an adult when the tales are focused upon adult concerns and needs. They help a person feel the true nature of one’s soul before God, the nature of a right relationship with him, and the satisfying excitement of a proper response to his expectations. MacDonald understood this. He was keenly aware that certain childlike dimensions are necessary components to a healthy spiritual life. He often refers to Christ’s statements in this regard. He remarked: ‘For my part, I do not write for children, but for the childlike, whether of five, of fifty, or seventy-five.’

“Bettelheim explains further:

In a fairy tale, internal processes are externalized and become comprehensible as represented by the figures of the story and its events. . . . Fairy stories do not pretend to describe the world as it is, nor do they advise what one ought to do. . . . The fairy tale is therapeutic because the patient finds his own solutions, through contemplating what the story seems to imply about him and his inner conflicts at this moment in his life. The content of the chosen tale usually has nothing to do with the patient’s external life, but much to do with his inner problems, which seem incomprehensible and hence unsolvable.

“This is precisely the way McDonald’s tales function.

“For the adult reader of these tales, the intellect and the imagination work in tandem. In ‘The Fantastic Imagination,’ MacDonald expresses it well: ‘What we mean to insist upon is, that in finding out the works of God, the Intellect must labor, workman-like, under the direction of the architect, Imagination.’ When a reader’s intellect is working subservient to the imagination, the full person is involved. MacDonald’s thought continues:

In very truth, a wise imagination, which is the presence of the spirit of God, is the best guide that man or woman can have; for it is not the things we see the most clearly that influence us the most powerfully; undefined, yet vivid visions of something beyond, something which eye has not seen nor ear heard, have far more influence than any logical sequences whereby the same things may be demonstrated to the intellect.

“The author whose mind is infused with the Spirit of God captures truths that ‘dazzle gradually’ through the story he is inspired to tell. For, being fallen as we are, the naked truth is ‘too bright for our infirm delight.’ The genius of the fairy tale is to present the reader with those moments of insight uniquely adapted to that reader’s needs, and that unfold their insights by degrees as a person contemplates them.

“When in the beginning of Lilith Vane the protagonist encounters the Raven, he asks where he is, and the Raven explains that he has come through a door. When Vane protests he is unaware of any door, he is told he has just come through a door ‘out’ — that is, out of the physical world intellectually perceived — and finds himself ‘in’ — that is, the world spiritually perceived by the heart. The Raven continues: ‘ . . . the more doors you go out of, the farther you get in.’

“We confront a profound paradox. The doors ‘out’ leave behind, not the physical world per se, but its appearances, that which the careless viewer mistakes for its realities. The doors ‘in’ lead one to glimpses of higher reality, truths ‘too bright for our infirm delight.’ Such momentary perceptions — instances in which one loses a sense of self — come most often by indirection, and are perceived by the heart. They are mythic; they offer ‘a real though unfocussed gleam of divine truth falling on human imagination.’ They exist quite beyond the reach of intellectual analysis and

That frost of fact by which our wisdom gives
Correctly stated death to all that lives.

“The worlds which an expert fantasist creates are conducive to such moments. MacDonald is such a genius.”

— from Rolland Hein, Doors In: The Fairy Tale World of George MacDonald (Cascade Books, 2018)

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