The Importance of Naming

One of my favorite themes in A Wind in the Door is a theme that Madeleine brings up repeatedly in many of her books, both fiction and non-fiction. That's the importance of naming, of knowing and calling someone by their true name. Madeleine believes (and partly because I heard her say it so many times and in so many ways, I've come to believe it deeply too) that our names truly matter, and that naming someone is a true gift.

I think she means that in ways both big and small: using someone's name when you speak or write to them can make them feel heard of listened to; offering someone your name when you first meet is a gift (and receiving their name a reciprocal gift); but "naming" also takes on deeper connotations for her. The ability to name someone, as Meg named Mr. Jenkins in the story, is to let them know that you know who they are on a deep heart level, that you've recognized their uniqueness, or something about what makes them truly themselves, flaws, gifts and all. Naming in Wind also has a lot to do, I think, with calling forth the gifts of someone, helping them to realize their own strengths and calling even when they don't necessarily feel they are strong or capable of a certain task. So "naming" and "loving" (with all the corollaries of strengthening and encouraging) become synonymous for Madeleine.

I remember many years ago when the Bonastra group (a L'Engle listserve I joined about eleven years ago) was more active. We had a huge and very fruitful discussion about the importance of naming, both in Madeleine's books and in our own lives. I wish I could recall more of the discussion or had saved it somewhere (I wonder if it might be available in the site's archives?). I do remember one of the things we talked about was whether or not we felt strongly about our given birth names or other important names from our lives (nicknames, terms of endearment)...if we felt those names really represented who we are.

So how do you feel about your name(s?)

Angels and Snakes

I just remembered this little post that I started a long time ago... One thing that's interesting about A Wind in the Door is the way L'Engle incorporates both angels and snakes. Proginoskes doesn't look anything remotely like most poeple would imagine an angel looking. Art really has a way of cementing certain images in people's minds. The image of the cherubim with many eyes and flames, dragon-like as Charles Wallace observed, has a Biblical precedent but everybody always thinks of the paintings of winged humans...

I like the fact that the snake is a force for good rather than evil. Snakes have had a pretty bad reputation all through history, so it's nice to see something postive about them once in a while. Both seem to relate to not judging things based on their appearance, but looking deeper to discover that just because something looks scary, it doesn't mean it's necessarily bad.

Love Your Enemies

I love this command, and it's certainly something I try to live up to - though in all honesty, I'm pretty lucky and haven't really had to deal with people antagonizing me in quite a long time. The scene in which Meg saves Charles Wallace with her love is very powerful; her Naming Mr. Jenkins is just as moving. Meg is such a spirited, opinionated girl, and the bland, authoritarian Mr. Jenkins has been a source of great distress and disappointment to her, not least because he could be a strong advocate if he had the inclination. In her everyday life, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to call him her greatest nemesis, and it's not wonder she struggles with her assignment to Name him. But love triumphs over hatred, and he turns out to be incredibly important in the quest to cure Charles Wallace and demonstrates that underneath all that bureaucracy, he really does care about his students.

He reminds me a lot of Katherine Brooke, the stodgy administrator Anne Shirley wins over in Anne of Windy Poplars, showing her how to really live again. I don't suppose Meg expected too much of Mr. Jenkins when she Named him at the school, but because she opened herself to the seed of goodness within this incredibly frustrating character, she was able to watch him blossom into a truly beautiful person. What a wonderful illustration of the healing power of compassion...

Getting Fond

One of my favorite lines in A Wrinkle in Time comes from the Happy Medium, who says, in the chapter bearing her name, "It's my worst trouble, getting fond. If I didn't get fond I could be happy all the time." It is a problem, isn't it? As soon as we become attached to someone, we set ourselves up for pain: the pain of empathy and of loss. The Buddhist take on this is that we should strive to remain unattached, to either people or things, because it will hinder our serenity. Perhaps, and sometimes I'm tempted to keep to myself as much as possible for this very reason. But think of the depths of joy we'd be missing out on if we refused to connect with other people.

It reminds me of the theme songs of Rankin and Bass's versions of The Hobbit and The Return of the King, especially the latter, which poses the question, "What good is it to love when the loving always ends?" and notes, "If you never say hello, you won't have to say goodbye." Obviously, Frodo is not controlled by such thoughts. He agrees to take the Ring all the way to Mordor out of love for his friends and for the entire population of the Shire, even those he doesn't know. He has gotten fond, and therefore he puts himself into great danger. And he is a hero to emulate.

Meg returns to the oppressive Camazotz for Charles Wallace because she loves him. Mrs. Whatzit gives up her life as a star because she loves what is good and right in the universe. Love drives so many brave actions in this novel and so many others. Getting fond. It may not be the easiest way to live. But it must be the most fulfilling.

Favorite Moments

I keep having good intentions about posting here...but days keep slipping by! At one point, a couple of weeks ago I had mentally composed at least the beginning of a couple of posts, but those seem to have slipped out of my tired brain. So I'll fore-go profundity and just share some of my favorite moments from WiT.

There are many favorite moments in this book, from the opening when Madeleine trots out that old warhorse of a first line "It was a dark and stormy night..." and then really does something creative with it. I still feel thrilled whenever Mrs Whatsit shows up, caught in a downdraft and blown off course. I think she's definitely my favorite of the Mrs W's, though they're all wonderful in their own ways. I especially enjoy their interaction -- one of the best lighthearted moments for me comes when Mrs Which accidentally tries to tesser them onto a two-dimensional planet, sending the "younger" two into gales of giggles.

But the deeper moments in this book are worth pondering too. The one that struck me deepest as a kid, and still resonates with me, is the moment when Meg realizes she has to be the one to go back to Camazotz to rescue Charles Wallace. I love how she moves from despair and frustration and near-hysteria to real peace about that. There's a quality of Frodo's "I will take the ring" there...acceptance and courage from a very small, limited creature facing impossible odds. I also always loved how Mrs Whatsit so patiently and creatively explained things to Calvin, via the sonnet metaphor. Our lives are like a "strict form, but freedom within it" -- I still love that line.

Many, many more moments I could write about...but I need to finish making dinner. What are some of your favorites?

Speaking In Quotes

I really like Mrs. Who's habit of speaking in famous quotations, finding that she's better able to express herself through the words of others. It gives us an opportunity to discover what words of wisdom inspired L'Engle, and to get a little crash course in some of the great thoughts of history. I also often find myself speaking in quotes, especially among people with a common reference point. Usually it's quotes from books, movies, television and songs rather than ones that are from significant figures throughout history, but in any case, there are so many to choose from, with well-ordered thoughts on just about every possible subject. I think it would be fun to try speaking like Mrs. Who for a day. It would make quite a challenge!

My all-time favorite quote is Gandalf's admonition to Bilbo at the end of The Hobbit: "You are a fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!" But there are so many others I carry around with me everywhere. It's a comforting thought, really, to have such a deep well of wise and funny and inspiring quotes to draw from. Standing on the shoulders of giants.

Meg and Charles Wallace

What I always remembered best about this book was the strength of the relationship between Meg and Charles Wallace. Glancing at the back cover, I noticed that inside, I had written in pencil 3-24-92. I presume that this is the day that I finished reading the book for the first time, 16 years almost to the day from this read. That would have made me 11 at the time and Nathan 3 and a half, so no doubt I thought of him as I read, and delving into it again, I couldn't help but compare. I've always felt especially close to my littlest brother, who is rather like Charles Wallace in terms of his skills as an artist. Just as Charles waited a long time to talk but started using complete sentences right away when he did, Nathan resisted drawing altogether until he was four or five, at which point he immediately started drawing in great detail.

I love how attuned the two are to each other. That scene in the kitchen is so great; Meg's wishing Charles Wallace would come upstairs to comfort her, and he's one step ahead of her, waiting for her to come downstairs and ready with a glass of warm milk. Throughout the book, their understanding of one another is so important, especially in the end, when Meg must use her love for her brother to crack through his trance. (I wonder if George Lucas is a fan of this book; there's a scene at the end of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom that is strikingly similar to Meg's rescue of Charles Wallace, and now that I think of it there are shades of it in Return of the Jedi as well.)

I actually had forgotten about the twins in this book, but then they don't come into the story that much. Do they show up more later in the series? Anyway, there are so many great things about A Wrinkle in Time, but my favorite aspect has to that incredible bond between Meg and her little brother.