Literature and Spiritual Nausea
Author Michael D. O’Brien, a leader in the anti-Harry Potter resistance, writes about his psychological and spiritual experiences upon reading J.K. Rowling’s uber-famous novels. He shared a feeling of spiritual nausea with three people who had read the novels and wanted O’Brien to assess them. He also suffered from vivid, memorable nightmares and a closely-paced series of severe external trials after publicizing a critique of the books.
I have no competence to judge these experiences or comment upon them in their particularity. All I can say is that if people have such experiences upon reading Harry Potter or other literary works, then they may be prudent not to read them. I say they may be prudent to avoid such works and subsequent spiritual experiences, but I wouldn’t say that the rest of us should consider their decision normative. I may risk sounding like a relativist by saying this, but what causes and qualifies as spiritual nausea for one person may not cause and qualify as such nausea for another. What leads one into the dark may lead another into the light.
Literature provides us with a way to have spiritual experiences, but our ways of experiencing a literary work will vary. Personally, I’d say if Harry Potter is spiritually dangerous, it is only because reading literature itself – nay, all of life – presents us with spiritual dangers.
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I don’t disagree with you. But doesn’t this point of view also leave one open to wallowing in pornography, or any other category of titillating material which excites the senses without positively enriching the intellect, never mind the spirit?
Again, I don’t disagree with you, but ask how you would answer such a response made by someone who does.
Rodak,
Even good literature might produce spiritual nausea; pornography should produce spiritual nausea. Of course, there are other experiences besides nausea to consider when discerning whether to subject oneself to some material. I would counsel one to avoid pornography whether or not viewing pornography causes them spiritual disgust.
I read two and a half of the Harry Potter books on vacation a few years back (can’t remember why). They seemed fairly innocuous to me, and I think people should exercise caution before universalizing their aesthetic and spiritual judgments.
At the same time, to Rodak’s point, the existence of the word ‘pornography’ highlights that it has distinguishing characteristics from other forms of art. Granted, the line between pornography and other art can be blurry at times with a particular wrok, but by and large people are able to distinguish between the two, which I think indicates that Kyle’s suggestion above doesn’t really run into difficulty there.
J.H–
Well, of course all genres have their unique labels. I suppose that Harry Potter would be classified as “fastasy.”
If I may continue in the role of Devil’s Advocate here, we must take into account the factor that Potter is aimed at young people, even children. I, therefore, I have been traumatized as an adult by the reading of it, I have a real reason for concern. We generally try to keep pornography out of the hands of children. If certain media such as cinema are graphically sexual, or graphically violent, we exclude children from the theater. Children cannot legally be sold certain printed material for similar reasons. But what if I truly believe that Harry Potter represents a kind of “spiritual pornography?” Certainly I can avoid it myself, but do I not necessarily feel the same kind of responsibility toward my community w/r/t Harry Potter as I would feel toward pornography or violence? Should I not speak out in an attempt to protect the young from such spiritual danger?
I don’t take seriously his claim that God argued him into reading the Harry Potter books so he could warn us about them, so why should I take seriously his reaction to them? It sounds to me like he’s saying, “You know, I didn’t want to be God’s messenger here, but he insisted and I caved, and so now I am bringing you the message God wanted me to deliver.
I know a lot of people think that way, but is it theologically sound?
Rodak,
Certainly I can avoid it myself, but do I not necessarily feel the same kind of responsibility toward my community w/r/t Harry Potter as I would feel toward pornography or violence? Should I not speak out in an attempt to protect the young from such spiritual danger?
Sure. That’s fine. I welcome dissent and disagreement and criticism. Given O’Brien’s experiences with the books, I would expect him to voice his concerns. He is, after all, a writer. I’m just pointing out why his experiences are not normative for the rest of us.
David,
I’m under no obligation to follow or believe O’Brien’s private revelations, sound or not.
Unless we concede that such judgments are irreducibly subjective, then at the very least we should insist that O’Brien be very specific about what he finds troubling in these works.
It seems to me that we have a positive obligation to approach works of art and literature intelligently, and being too quick to denounce works as “spiritually dangerous” or even “pornographic” robs us of very important and transformative experiences.
We must avoid what’s bad, but we must also seek out what is good, and there is no safe way of doing that.
What do the Harry Potter books, the Wizard of Oz, and most of the traditional fairy tales have in common? I once read a book called “The Uses of Enchantment” by Bruno Bettleheim, which dealt with themes of fantasy in coming to terms with the dilemmas of one’s inner life.
I can remember as a child getting very emotionally caught up in reading “Snow White”. My mother saw that I was crying when Snow White was poisoned by the wicked witch, and said, “Honey, if it makes you sad, let’s put it away!” But I wanted to finish it, even (or especially) if it meant going through scary and sad emotions, to get to the magical and happy ending; though I couldn’t have articulated those thoughts at the time.
If people don’t feel that books like the Harry Potter series are appropriate for their children or themselves, by all means they should follow their best judgement. But I feel that it is a mistaken interpretation to assume that the themes of magic and enchantment in works of fantasy are necessarily about the occult.
Melody, I am in full agreement with you. The spiritual journey is a human journey of relationships with self, others and God. This journey takes us into the darkness of the unknown within the context of each relationship. Every reaction we experience in these relaitonships reveals something about us and the other.
Monsignor Guardini wrote “There is nothing brighter than the eyes of God, nor is there anything more comforting…Human seeing often destroys the mystery of the other. God’s seeing create it…We can do nothing better than place ourselves and all that we have in God’s sight…Let us put away the fear that prevents us. Let us abandon the sloth, the pretense of independence, and the pride. ‘Look at the good! Look at the shortcomings! The ugly, the unjust, the evil, the wicked, everything-look at it, O God!’…None of the shortcomings and evil in our lives are fatal so long as they confront His gaze.”
It seems that each experience of “spiritual nausea” must be understood within the context of self, other and God so as to bring the light of God’s Love into that darkness where comfort and safety replace the emptiness and fear. If fear is increased within that darkness then God is weakened and evil is strengthened.
What is the message we want to give to our children?
What do we make of negative criticism of a series of books that consistently promotes values such as courage, self-sacrifice, faithfulness to friends and an uncompromising stance against evil?
It makes me sick!
Also, the following struck me about O’Brien’s account of his “bad dreams.” Here’s the one he describes as “the worst”:
“I had been captured and taken to an isolated house deep in a forest. The building was filled with men and women involved in witchcraft and sorcery. They were waiting for a man who was their chief sorcerer to arrive, and I was to be the human sacrifice in the night’s ritual. When he entered the room I felt that all hope had been lost, a black dismay filled me, along with terror of a kind I had never before felt. Even then, I was able to whisper the name of Jesus. Instantly the walls fell backward onto the ground outside the house, the cords that had bound me fell from my wrists and ankles, and I ran for my life. Leaping out of the house, I was astonished to find the entire building surrounded by mighty angels, who by their holy authority had immobilized all of the sorcerers within. I leaped and danced with joy, and realized that I had been transformed into a child. Jesus appeared in the sky above and began to descend. I continued to dance in jubilation and relief, crying out greetings to him as he arrived. At which point I woke up, filled with utter joy.”
So in his dream, he is beset by evil, saved by faith and the legions of heaven, and ultimately filled with joy.
How is this a “nightmare”?
Phosphorious,
You are so right on. He seems to pay more attention to the nausea of his fear than the faith that saved him. This is a perfect example of how our faith is weakened by those who are possessed by their fear.
Perhaps the basis of many Christians’ objection to stories involving the occult or fantastic is not so much the occult or fantastic content per se but the fact that these stories (usually) take place outside the context of Christianity–as if it did not exist, or at least not giving it the kind of importance the committed beliver gives to it in life.
In the Potter stories, for example, we have Christmas as a holiday and some other minor references to Christianity, but certainly we can say that Christian belief or cosmology really has no role in the story (though it may indeed be there thematically or in other less overt ways).
So here we have these powerful stories of good and evil, life and death, and where is Jesus? If you love Jesus, and belive he is the savior of the world, this might well feel like an affront or even an outrage. And forget about the witches and demons–do we want our kids being taken in by these compelling tales in which our Lord takes no role? Do we want them being sold that version of reality in slick potboilers and on-screen extravaganzas?
I have enjoyed the Harry Potter stories and will admit to a bit of chagrin at the fact that my Lord and my religion are apparently very marginal elements in the world of the books. On the other hand, “Everything good comes from God,” as I am told in the Mass, and I think that books celebrating heroic virtues, even the “non-Christian” ones, are good things.