Category Archives: Themes and Issues in My Writing

Loss and Growth as Fictional Themes

I read a beautiful story when I was growing up, The Chestry Oak, by Kate Seredy. A child of an old, eastern European nobility, loses his parents during World War II and eventually comes to America. I felt the boy’s loss for his past and the pain of his adjustment in the new. He lost not only his family but an entire way of life.

I wonder how that book and a few others have influenced what I write today. Perhaps my father’s death when I was thirteen emphasized the theme of loss and adjustment. Many of my stories begin with loss and trace the journey of the protagonists as the loss forces the characters into new patterns.

Many historical novels occur in times of great change: the Reformation, the American expansion westward, World War II.  When a new era begins, grows, then takes over, what have we lost? What have we gained? The Victorian age included horrible ills: child labor, rigid rules for women, exploitation of undeveloped nations, among others. However, something about the era leads us to stories of that time. Despite the wrongs, what draws us?

Perhaps something of a more ordered age, of civility, of courage during hardship, even of witty understatement draws us, attributes that seem in short supply today. Duty, courage, and grace under fire appeal to us in an age of instant gratification.

So, I suppose my stories, written as entertainment, attempt to find this connection between discovering what is good in the past with the jettisoning of old injustices.

The Past as Character in Quiet Deception

 

“We can only control our own actions and choices. After that, control passes from our hands. We have to live with the results.” So says an older woman to the young woman protagonist in my story Quiet Deception, my second novel.

The characters, from the young woman, Kim, all the way up to her professors, her supposed role models, make choices and live with the results. They live with sorrow, joy, fear, regret, forgiveness, familial love between husband and wife and father and son, friendship (sometimes when other love is absent), a growing knowledge of God’s love, and ultimate victory, though a bittersweet victory for some.

The time period, from the end of World War II through the 1970’s, is, in a sense, a character also, mirroring the choices of the protagonists. Americans made choices during that time that we live with today.

A Kind of Conversion

Kate, an American woman in my novel, Singing in Babylon, teaches English in Saudi Arabia. She helps a teenage maid escape an abusive employer and return to her native Ethiopia. For Kate, the maid puts a face on the desperate millions in undeveloped countries who seek a better life. Her view of the world is forever changed.

On my first assignment with the U.S. Foreign Service, stationed in the Middle East, I faced multitudes who presented themselves at my visa interviewing window. This was my first experience overseas. Multitudes of the desperate from poverty-stricken and often corrupt countries flocked into the oil-rich states of the Middle East for jobs. They sometimes waited for hours before U.S. embassy windows, hoping for a chance to go to the American promised land.

The years I spent in the Middle East changed me as it did Kate. I now understand the importance of world events which appear of only passing interest to many Americans. Ripples from the abuse of Iraqi prisoners by American guards in Abu Ghraib, for example, echo in the Muslim world long after we have forgotten about them in this country. I understand how our morality, or lack of it, follows every soldier and every diplomat who serves in a foreign country.

A mind set that focuses only on domestic issues now disturbs me.

The Serious And The Cultural

Conversation from Searching for Home between Hannah and Patrick as they explore the Mediterranean island of Cyprus:

 

They strolled among the rubble-strewn ruins of the forum where the apostle Paul was reputed to have preached.

Hannah said, “I used to tell secular friends that my family is seriously Christian.”

“Which begs the question, ‘What’s a non-serious Christian?’”

“Somebody who’s Christian only as long as the culture is.”

Patrick glanced at the ruins around them, mighty and glorious at one time. “Did you know that my house is in Carthage?”

“I thought you lived in Tunis.”

“Carthage is a suburb of Tunis. A lot of the embassy people live there and commute to the downtown.”

“You mean the Carthage that the Romans destroyed after the Punic Wars? Where Augustine lived?”

“Same one. It’s been Muslim for well over a millennia now. Perhaps the people weren’t seriously Christian enough. Most of them converted within a few centuries of the Muslim conquest.”

 

The late Lesslie Newbigin, in his book, Foolishness to the Greeks; The Gospel and Western Culture, suggested that Western Christians approach their society with the realization that it is as pagan as the one surrounding first century Christians. Indeed, he said, this current paganism is more resistant to Christianity than a mere secular society. It is born out of the rejection of Christianity.

So do we convert to paganism or are we serious Christians?

Reactions, Just and Unjust

Debates have raged about just and unjust wars. We now tend to label conflicts over territory and power as unjust. Wars to protect our families, our country, and our way of life we may label as just. But is war always the proper response, even to a genuine threat? The issue is not the existence of threats but our response to them.

Todd, a character in my novel, Quiet Deception, fought in Viet Nam because he grew up with stories of his namesake. The first Todd died on a Normandy beach in the conflict against the Nazis in World War II. Americans growing up in the shadow of that war understood that evils arise in the world and must be confronted.

Americans had barely celebrated victory in World War II, when Soviet communism rolled over eastern Europe and threatened western Europe. In Asia, China fell to other communist forces. A “first” world of generally democratic nations pitted itself against a “second” world of authoritarian regimes that denied cherished freedoms like the freedom to vote, express opinions in a newspaper, or worship.

The conflict was a “cold” war, because the two groups never fought each other directly. Instead, they used proxies, “third” world countries in Africa, South America, and Asia, often with disastrous consequences to some of these nations.

The threat from authoritarian regimes was genuine. The question was whether war in a small nation in Asia formerly ruled by France was a wise choice. Many Americans today, in hindsight, would judge it unfortunate that we committed lives and treasure to fight in Viet Nam. Todd was, in a sense, a victim of his country’s learning curve. (See comments after the previous blog.)

That al-Qaeda’s attacks on September 11, 2001, were attacks against America, few deny. Certainly a government must respond to protect its citizens. But are two long ground wars in nations far removed from us in culture the proper response?

We might also consider the wisdom of conflict prevention that uproots seeds of conflict before they sprout. This, of course, requires a knowledge of subjects like history and geography and the study of other cultures. A teacher in my high school world history course led us all the way back to the religious wars of the 1600’s to find roots for the First World War and its conclusion, the Second World War.

Writing in Foreign Affairs, Melvyn P. Leffler states: “The bitterness that has poisoned American public discourse in the wake of the 9/11 attacks and the wars they triggered should be turned into sorrowful reflection about how fear, guilt, hubris, and power can do so much harm in the quest to do good.”

(Melvyn P. Leffler, “9/ll in Retrospect: George W. Bush’s Grand Strategy, Reconsidered,” Foreign Affairs, September/October 2011, p. 44.)

A Deception As Quiet As The Snow That Fell That Night

What really happened the night Dr. Byron White disappeared?

Quiet Deception, my recently published mystery/romance, answers that question but delves into deeper questions as well. I wrote the first storyline with the vanished professor as the villain. As I developed the characters around that beginning idea, Byron White told me his true story. The other characters, suspects some of them,  in his disappearance, also shared.

Each character, it turns out, is a story within Byron’s story. Then I understood that all were villains at some point and all were heroes/heroines. Perhaps they mirror most of us.

Mixed into the story is an ancient legend from my Tennessee childhood, a few tangled relationships, scraps from an old document, and stolen research.

Why Clog Up The Blogosphere With More Words?

 

The opening of a new blog (revamped, actually) requires me to justify this addition to our word-crowded electronic space. A glance at the categories along the side suggest the flavors to be served. Why did I choose these?

I hope to fill a particular niche. Working several years in Muslim-majority countries gave me insights about Americans and especially my fellow American Christians. During those years, I practiced Christianity as a minority religion, for the first time in my life. Now returned to the U.S., I sympathize with Philip Yancey writing in Soul Survivor (p. 5): “Sometimes I feel like the most liberal person among conservatives, and sometimes like the most conservative among liberals.”

I gain purpose from worshiping with fellow Jesus believers and sense the spirit of God. Sometimes, though, a perceived attention only to narrow domestic concerns seems to block out an understanding of Christ’s call to a world mission, not just one to this country.

I can talk with “liberal” types and be understood. They are aware of world trends and issues. Yet, when among them, I sense a loss of connection to God’s power and purpose.

The apostle Paul spoke often of reconciliation, both between God and the world and between fellow Christians. I have this unreasonable hope that Christians with differing gifts, perceptions, and ideas (even of politics!) would discover a place for civil discussion of our faith in a world that changes at warp speed. Perhaps a few seekers or discouraged Christians searching for a reason to stay in the Christian fold might stop by.

(See ‘Not Your Grandmother’s Church’)

 

 

A Divide, Not Between Religions, But Religion and the Lack of it.

As religion has become less important in individual lives in Western nations, it has become more important in many non-Western nations, such as Saudi Arabia. According to a recent article in The Economist (July 9-15, 2011, p. 57, “Polling Religion, Unequal Zeal” ), http://www.economist.com/node/18926205
the world’s religious divide is not so much about different religions (i.e., Christianity and Islam) as about “the lack of any religion in the public or private lives of many Westerners.”

When I lived in Saudi Arabia, I worshiped as a Christian in house churches discretely located within housing compounds. Raids on Christian services were rare. Most arrests of Americans in Saudi Arabia were not for religious practices. They were more likely to be for excessive consumption or sale of liquor. The use of drugs and pornography also led to arrests. In short, judging from the arrests, Christian beliefs did not bother authorities nearly so much as behavior against Muslim as well as Christians norms.

The American Christian characters of my novel Singing in Babylon know a sense of exile not only in Saudi Arabia but also when they return to the United States.
http://scribblingsfromexile.blogspot.com/2011/01/christian-exile-in-babylon.html
Though their story is not my own, this sense of exile does mirror my experience on returning from the Muslim-majority countries where I lived. I worshiped as a minority there. So also I do here, though, thankfully, without fear of arrest.

That Saudi Arabia does not allow freedom of religion is certainly a matter of concern, but another concern is how few Americans practice it there or here.

 

Multitudes Versus One-at-a-Time

News stories first reported the large number of Tunisians fleeing their country’s instability. The mostly young Tunisians attempt to cross the Mediterranean in boats to reach Europe. The reports now include Libyans. By the time you read this, other nationalities may be added. Some Europeans fear being overwhelmed by tides of seekers after a better life as many North African and Middle Eastern countries experience turmoil. We are reminded of the boat people from Cuba and Haiti in this hemisphere. Or, other boat people from Vietnam fleeing to more stable Asian nations.

In one of my stories, Kate, a young American thrust into a job in the Middle East, becomes aware of such needs. She is part of a sting operation to halt the illegal entry of young South Asian men into the United States. In recounting the success of the operation, she tells another character, “… they all looked so terrified. They began running in…different directions. … we can’t let them all into the U.S., can we? There are too many of them. But they’re not criminals or anything. They’re only looking for a job. What’s the answer?”

The story doesn’t give “the answer” in so many words. However, Kate later helps an abused maid return to her country with a relief agency job that might help her poverty-stricken village. The desperate needs of so many overwhelm us if we do not keep in mind that people are helped one at a time.

 

Christian Exile in Babylon

My novel, SINGING IN BABYLON, doesn’t actually take place in Babylon. Much of it takes place in Saudi Arabia. Babylon, however, is associated with exile by readers of the Old Testament, and Kate, a Christian, discovers a feeling of exile while teaching in Saudi Arabia.

In one scene, Kate and Philip are confined to Philip’s car during a dust storm. They have recently worshiped in an underground Christian church. Kate says, “It’s funny. I had to come to a Muslim country to find a Christian fellowship that feels like a resurrection community.”

Philip responds, “Here it’s like we’re exiles coming together.”

Later, on return to America, Kate’s sense of exile continues. Why? Certainly, in the U.S. Kate has freedom to openly worship as she chooses, but her new understanding reveals another kind of exile, that of exile from the values of the culture that surrounds her.

 

Subversives or Exiles?

When SINGING IN BABYLON was published and I began blogging, I considered that my slogan might be: “Subversive Christians on the World’s Stage.” This would be my “brand.” (Brand is a current buzzword, something that identifies you with your “tribe,” another buzzword.)

It didn’t seem to impress an editor at a writers’ conference I attended. Subversive might have connotations I didn’t intend. I certainly didn’t mean subversive in the sense of a subversive movement like al-Qaeda. No insurgency that claims innocent lives. No, nothing like that. Nor do I mean the undermining of core Christian beliefs.

I meant something like Walter Brueggemann discusses in Deep Memory, Exuberant Hope. He talks about the baptized community in the Christian West as being in something like exile ” … in consumer-oriented capitalism in the West, where the church is a cultural problem or at least an inconvenience.” (Page 10.)

Perhaps exile is a better term than subversive. We are exiled Christians on the world’s stage. We’re subversives against the worship of greed, power, and self that sooner or later drags down every civilization. We’re subversives in living lives of self-discipline and compassion against the world’s dominant values of self-centeredness and consumerism. We live intentional lives, not ones of passive submission to our culture.