Plato, Narnia, and "in the world but not of it"

(This was supposed to be published on Tuesday, December 6th, but my blog seems to be having difficulties with publishing.)

Now Playing: The "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers" soundtrack by Howard Shore. Track 14, "The Breath of Life".

Yesterday I spent all morning studying impatiently for my Pocahontas class final exam. The exam was at 11:00 a.m. It was an in-class essay. I think I did alright, though none of my ideas were very original, and I'm a little bit worried that she'll count off for that. But if I were to put down any of my "original" ideas, and tell her exactly what I thought about the text, she'd probably just get mad, and that wouldn't accomplish anything. So I just wrote a bland essay analyzing the text and trying not to put any opinion into it whatsoever, which was very boring.

In the afternoon, I met with Dr. G about my Honors paper. We sat and discussed Plato's "Symposium" for quite awhile. It was very interesting--in fact, it led to a "lightbulb" moment later. You see, after our discussion, I walked over to the library and sat in the student study for awhile, scribbling notes all over the margins of my essay. Chequered afternoon sunshine slanted through the windows and warmed my chapped hands. I stared out the window at the blank, white sky beyond the ripply glass, like looking down a road through a mirage. And I realized something: Plato's ideas in the "Symposium" get so very, very close to Christianity that it's almost painful. And that's all I shall say here (*hem* you'll have to go to my other blog to get the full philosophical diatribe).

Rachel, Matt, James, Emily, and I ate supper together. Emily is studying to be a mechanical engineer. James is a softspoken boy from Maine who loves French and philosophy. We sat and discussed the ethics of interacting with a sinful world, working with professors who scorn moral absolutes, and reading books that are filled with hideous sin. It's enough to make one want to lock oneself up in a cloister, but if we do that, then the enemy will have won the battle. Lots of people say that English is the worst field to be in--again, though, if there aren't any Christians in English departments and writing good books and good poetry, then the whole field will have been given up to Satan. And that is a horrible thought, especially considering that the Word, as expressed in speech and writing, is so important to Christianity. Christ has given us a mandate to subdue all the world, not just engineering or medicine, and that includes the arts. As we left the table, Matt promised to write down some of the things we'd talked about, and I joked that he'd better put it in rhymed iambic pentameter (he writes poetry).

After supper, Rachel and I got into a heated discussion of Plato. We were standing outside, and I began to shiver so hard that my voice shook, so I suggested that we go indoors. We sat upstairs in my room and talked and talked, about Narnia and Plato and other things. We watched the big Narnia trailer together. It's going to be another week at least until either one of us sees it, which is rather a sad thought. After watching it, we were both quite enthusiastic, despite some of the changes they've made. The change that irks me the most is only a tiny one, but very noticeable: Aslan snarls at the Witch's creatures as he walks up the hill to the stone table. Now, this would be excusable were it not for the fact that Aslan is such an obvious picture of Christ. Christ went "like a lamb to the slaughter; He opened not His mouth". To have an Aslan that snarls puts a stain on the picture of Christ as the humble, innocent sacrifice, willingly offering Himself without a hint of anger or desire for revenge.

Last night I went to bed early, and this morning I woke up late (in other words, eight o'clock). I've spent all morning in a state of scatter-brain-ed-ness: editing my Honors paper to reflect my "lightbulb" moment (without explicitly stating anything about Christianity--*growl*), sending e-mails to various advisors to change course sections, looking up textbooks for next semester on the web, and fiddling with my template (with the patient help of the Shadow). And, yes, that lovely image you now see at the top of the page (which, in fact, reminds me of Elves--there's another version of it that looks like Gondor's White Tree in bloom) is courtesy of the Shadow himself.

Tonight there's an RUF formal--games, dancing, and dessert, or so I've heard. Syneva, hopefully, will teach us how to do contradancing and other plain dances, like the Virginia Reel, which is always fun (though I can't imagine trying to do that one in a long skirt!). And this afternoon I'm supposed to meet with Dr. S about my British Writers paper. And of course, I've got pages and pages of things to memorize for my final exams this Thursday and Friday, and next Thursday, though I think I have the material for British Writers under control.

Well, this is enough. Whenever I get in one of these brisk moods, my fingers refuse to stop dancing over the keyboard, and I've taken up too much space already.