A Wrinkle In Time by Madeleine L’Engle, originally published in 1962, now available in a number of formats from many different outlets. Visit the author’s website at www.madeleinelengle.com/books/.
As our horribly-divided country lurches through the aftermath of this disastrous election season, I was suddenly reminded of the climactic scene in this book as I wondered what it would take to start to bring people back together. On the one hand, sometimes hard truths must be spoken, and spoken clearly and without apology.
But I’m thinking here more about how the hatreds between groups can somehow be mitigated. How can the militant white nationalist with his
Confederate flag ever look upon the family from Somalia down the street as anything else than the dangerous “other”? What can bridge that gap? And the answer, hard as it is to swallow, is love. Love displayed between the members of that family. Love shown in the care they take with living in the community. And (gulp) love and compassion shown to that racist down the block if he has an accident, or loses his job, or becomes old and enfeebled. They could pray for what I call “Good Samaritan moments.” We forget that a “Samaritan” was a member of an outcast race which the “pure” Jews of Jesus’ time refused to associate with. Isn’t it interesting that two of the most famous stories in the Gospels concern these outcast people? The story of the Good Samaritan and the story of the Samaritan woman at the well.
So in this book, a young adult science fiction classic. the main characters travel to a planet called Camazotz to find and rescue their father. They find that the planet is under a shadow, ruled by a horrible entity called, simply, IT, which is a disembodied brain. Every being on the planet must act and think in conformity with this being. There is no freedom, and any deviation from the rules is punished severely.
Charles Wallace, the small boy whose intellect IT wants to control, tries instead to conquer the monster and is sucked in. His older sister Meg is frantic. How can she get him back? She tries directing all her anger and hatred to IT, but instead she finds herself also being taken over. What can she do? And then suddenly she realizes that she has something IT doesn’t have: she has love.
Now she was even able to look at him, at this animated thing that was not her own Charles Wallace at all. She was able to look and love. I love you. Charles Wallace, you are my darling and my dear and the light of my life and the treasure of my heart. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Slowly his mouth closed. Slowly his eyes stopped their twirling. The tic in the forehead ceased its revolting twitch. Slowly he advanced toward her. “I love you!” she cried. “I love you, Charles! I love you!” Then suddenly he was running, pelting, he was in her arms, he was shrieking with sobs. “Meg! Meg! Meg!” “I love you, Charles!” she cried again, her sobs almost as loud as his, her tears mingling with his. “I love you! I love you! I love you!”
Does all this sound pretty sappy? I can assure you that in the context of the story as a whole it is intensely moving. I’m not much of a crier, but I’m always moved to tears by this scene.
Another great classic, also centered on the idea of human freedom and love, is C. S. Lewis’s That Hideous Strength. Love, love, love that book. So brilliant, so thoughtful, so complex. I would recommend that you get yourself a copy of both and read the L’Engle one first. If that whets your appetite, go on to Lewis. Great stuff, and greatly needed.