[Editorial Note: This post appeared on my other blog on 3/24/12. I'm just moving it over here to put all posts that are a good fit for this blog in one place.]
So I haven't posted anything in almost four months. Whatever. Will have to work on that little problem. But I have something to get off my chest now, so here we go.
Sometimes I suddenly, or not so suddenly, realize things. And this may be one of those times. I would like to make an observation. People nowadays are way too obsessed with facts. I guess I've got nothing against facts per se, but facts sure seem to be a big deal when it comes to certain topics; say, history, or science. Whether something is really true. Whether something actually happened. People demand hard evidence. They demand the scientific method (I hate the scientific method!!). Sometimes the presence of witnesses and a written record aren't enough, apparently: otherwise the whole world would accept the historicity of Christ's triumphant rise from death.
Tolkien once commented that truths are communicated most profoundly through myths. Not silly myths, or childish myths, like the tooth fairy or something. But actual, substantial myths that entire cultures used to believe before society became so overwhelmed with facts and science. And I think I am starting to understand with increasing clarity what he meant.
The consequence of being "overwhelmed with facts and science" as I just stated is that we have displaced real, substantial myths to the realm of silly, useless myths. The problem is that in our modern arrogance we forget that the people who developed these myths were real people just like us. They were not stupid or savage, though their ways were very different from ours. They thought much differently - their entire worldview would actually have been completely foreign to us - but they were not stupid. In fact, they interpreted the world around them using the best knowledge available to them at the time, just the same as we do now. Perhaps the old myths should not be cast aside so lightly?
Many ancient and medieval historians have failed to withstand scrutiny when it comes to modern fact-checking. They would muddle things up, change names, change times, and "skew the facts" based on their own perspectives. Thus the modern complaint is that far too much of history remains uncertain. My point is, why dwell on the specifics? These muddles and discrepancies were not significant then, so why should they be now? It is not about the exact date something happened. Sometimes it is not even about whether something is truly historical or fictitious. Of far greater significance is the story or message itself, and its meaning to the author and readers. If you don't believe me, ask why bookstores (those still in business despite the rise of online booksellers) have a huge section devoted to Fantasy. The only difference now is that we have sectioned it off, in the name of science, or facts, or maybe just an irrational fear of muddling things up. Like we fear fantasy is somehow going to attack the rest of the bookstore and take it over or something.
So when I look at old myths - which I don't do a whole lot, since I am not too eccentric yet, but perhaps will more in the future - I will not think of them as strictly fictitious or false histories. To what degree they are historical is beside the point. The ability to convey truth does not equate to historical accuracy. Myths are not idle fancies. They demand deeper consideration and the whole of our imagination to appreciate them.
When the time comes for me to die, which it will someday, am I going to sit and wonder whether my life has been vindicated by science? Will I be satisfied to recall the historical accuracy of particular events in my life? No way. Who cares about that stuff? It just plain doesn't matter. Faugh. I could continue typing, but I have probably made my implications clear enough for now, and leave the rest open to interpretation.
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