Must all books be perfect?

Hi!

I also run a review site (only we do movies) so I know what it's like to be written and told off. I won't go that direction. I did not agree with any of your reviews, I felt you were obsessed with minute detail -- however, I do want to make a couple of comments. Your reviewer quotes in her review of "Christy" by Catherine Marshall that Miss Alice is a Quaker. She then defines the Quaker faith as not being true Christianity. Miss Alice was a Quaker in her younger years, but at the time in which the novel takes place, was not still a Quaker. Moving to the wilds, the loss of her daughter, and other events lead her to more mainstream Christianity (you'll note she's accurate with a rifle; Quakers are pacifists, and she isn't).

One theme that runs through your reviews seems to imply that books must be perfect. Heroines must never make mistakes, entertain negative thoughts, or experience times when they're running from God. Books are supposed to recreate reality, therefore this is an unachievable goal. You must also ask yourself if the author's personal life has any influence on their works. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a spiritualist, but his Sherlock Holmes stories contain no negative influences by way of spiritualism. Is it fair to write off Lucy Maud Montgomery's stories about the little orphan girl that touched the heart of Marilla and Matthew with such wonderful promise simply because the author was conflicted in her personal life? If we must judge on that level, many of the greatest authors of our time should be shunned... Louisa May Alcott, Charles Dickens... the list goes on and on.

Thanks for your time,

Charity

Hi Charity,

Thanks for sending your opinions. I am sure that they represent the feelings of many others, all of whom are entitled to opinions. However, it seems that your quarrel is not with our reviews at all. Our reviews focus nearly entirely on the idea that reading materials are, or are not, fit for a parent to hand to their children to read without said children being adversely philosophically affected, especially in the area of their Christian faith and walk.

Your arguments do not lie in this area. It is true that the secular world has produced many talented writers, and you may well not wish to release your own affinity for their works, but talent in no way validates those works as fit for consumption by Christian children (and if not Christian children, than no children). These “great” writers of whom you speak are secular writers. They embrace a whole realm of aberrant philosophies—secularism, humanism, communism, occultism, Masonic beliefs, theosophy, and on the list goes. They promulgate these philosophies in their writings.

Children do not read with discernment. They read for enjoyment. The read to be swept along by the story and the deeds of the characters. These characters and their deeds serve as examples. Children will find themselves subconsciously attempting to model their own lives after them, in which case they will find themselves trying to be humanists. Secular writers are humanists. Their characters are humanists. They look like humanists. They act like humanists. They talk like humanists. This is what the young reader learns from them. A child does not read a book seeking to assess its literary value. Children read things that affect them.

It has been a very long time since I have read Doyle. It may be true that Sherlock Holmes stories do not contain any blatant spiritualism, but they contain plenty of subtle humanism. There is plenty of “example” in those stories that I would not want my grandchildren to hope to emulate, and what they read they will want to emulate. Charles Dickens was a blatant humanist and his works show it. He even wrote an entire book entitled The Life of Our Lord devoted to effacing the deity of Christ. I would never encourage young children in the direction of such a man. Louisa May Alcott was a Mason. Her writings are humanist. Why push humanism on unsuspecting children? L. M. Montgomery was an occultist though her husband was a preacher, and secular critics agree that the undertone, the gut feeling of her writings are exactly opposite of her position of a pastor’s wife. Laura Ingalls Wilder was a Mason and a feminist who despised and refused marriage vows, and, unbeknown to most, had little esteem for the concept of the family unit. Little girls are subtly and unwittingly taught by her writings to identify with tomboys (Laura) rather than feminine young ladies (Mary). Yes, the list does go on.

Notice that I did not say that these works are devoid of any character values or other seemingly saving graces. They often exude character, which is what makes it so easy for so many to unknowingly swallow the bad with the good. People get convinced that some good character makes a good book. Good character based on humanism displayed to a child will, if the child decides to develop good character, most likely influence that child to base that character on the same things by which it was displayed to him—humanist attributes.

How does one explain the errors in these works while the child is silently digesting paragraph after paragraph in rapt ignorance. After all, humanism produces happiness only in fiction. In real life, character based on nothing generally deteriorates, and spiritually, humanism produces eternal fatality. Can heroines make mistakes? Sure, but the must be shown somewhere in the following pages that it was a mistake, and that there are often severe consequences for such a mistake. In Christy, for example, the character makes plenty of mistakes. They are not, however, shown to be the foolish ungodly thinking that they are. Moreover, she is characterized as a Christian while she thinks and acts as real Christians do not think and act. What could be more confusing to a young person?

So, you see, the question is not: Who do we like to read? or Who do we not want to give up? or Who would we be embarrassed to give up? When we write a review, it is about being careful who we allow to influence the life and eternity of our child. It has been often said that we become the people we meet and the books we read. Who do we want our child to be—a Christian or a humanist? We can argue about story details all day, but at the end of that day, it is about who gets the child’s mind. That is what it is about for us, and that is what it is about for humanist authors. The theosophical movement, the largest, most organized occult movement in the world recognizes literature as one of its major tools in moving people away from Christianity. Our goal is to move people toward Christianity.

None of this is by accident. These people write healthy-looking stories to subtly promote their ideologies. For instance, The Wizard of Oz written by Lyman Frank Baum, a famous theosophist, is well known to be a literary representation of theosophy—its application to the masses primarily through literature and a description of the behavioral effects that can be expected to be achieved.

A final true story . . . In a recent conversation with a young father of four, the oldest being almost five, he told me something interesting about his oldest daughter. The girls are always most delightfully dressed in beautiful feminine dresses, many of which the mother makes. The mother also loves to pick up older story books from the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s for the children. The daughter has a very strong habit to want to mimic everything that she sees—especially things that other people seem to enjoy—whether good or bad. Lately, she has been sitting with her dress pulled up above her knees, and exhibiting some other untrained, unexpected behaviors. The father sat down one day with her and one of her books. She is just beginning to read, so many of the stories are still beyond her, and her main activity is looking at the pictures.

As they sat, she said, “Daddy, I love this girl!” The father was surprised because the girl was in pants, and his daughter had never worn them. As they talked, and the father drew out the little girl’s heart, he noticed other things. Not only did girls in her books wear pants, but nearly all wore dresses above their knees. However a person feels about the issue of pants, this is a clear example about the power of authors and their literature at subconscious levels. Children do not read with discernment. They just read (or look at the pictures). Most adults pay little or no more attention. Authors and publishers know this. Their visual pictures and word pictures work their work on the unsuspecting. The reader sees the picture, experiences something, and from then on feels a certain way. These readers often do not even know that they feel differently, and they certainly do not know why. Let us not think for a moment that authors do not understand why the pen is mightier than the sword—especially children’s authors. Christians are so often dumbfounded as they get older and begin realizing that multitudes grow up and walk straight from a Christian home right into the world. Few come to realize that these children spent their lives learning to belong to the world through “good” literature. However, authors who set out to change the world to their way of thinking are not the least bit surprised at such results.

The International Theosophical Society met in 1901 and decided that they must move their efforts into the churches, gaining acceptance there for their literature and ideas. Hence, we see many books and films filled with pagan humanist sights and ideas being linked to the word “Christian”—nearly as many as are content to be plain secular. We should all pray the Lord not let it come to pass that “the children of darkness should are wiser than the children of light.” We need to keep our eyes on the goal—the heart, mind and eternity of the child. Let others argue about great literature. We are to spread the gospel. Let us beware not to spread gospelcide with it.

May God bless your ministry and give you wisdom,

Jeff Zakula