Dominican Vocations

	DOMINICAN VOCATIONS PROVINCE OF THE ASSUMPTION

Site map	Article (Part I): Reclaiming History through Fiction	Br Vincent Magat, O.P.
Home News -------------------------- Welcome Benedict XVI Master -------------------------- History Introduction St Dominic's gift Australia --------------------------- Order Discernment Formation Dominican habit Novitiate Studentate --------------------------- Life Introduction Four pillars Apostolate --------------------------- People Dominican saints Our brethren --------------------------- Resources Lectio Divina Links Prayer Reading --------------------------- Site dedication	In an interview with FOX news acclaimed director Ridley Scott stated that since his historical saga, The Kingdom of Heaven, is a piece of historical fiction rather than a documentary, it ought to be exempted from criticism about historical accuracy. But, since popular understanding of history is shaped much more by the arts than historical scholarship (the vilification of Pius XII in Rolf Hochhuth’s infamous play The Deputy readily comes to mind) a case for historically responsible cinematography can certainly be argued despite these objections. However, there is another significant angle to be considered. Storytelling is a natural and hallowed means of upbringing; every nation and significant group with a specific claim on the identity of those who belong to it has embraced historical mythology in particular as a means of shaping the present man. Even nations as small as my native Slovakia produced a considerable body of popular narratives, often transmitted purely in oral form, which expound the nation’s unique identity, in terms of its origin, or the history of interaction with the peoples; but more significantly by offering accounts of the distinctive characteristics and virtues of the Slovak people. Although it is undeniably true that every generation and age bring their own particular emphasis or twist to the stories they retell, nonetheless the historical myths of the nations, by virtue of their ancient origin and organic development, acquire over time an independence from the wisdom of the present age, at least in matter of essence, if not expression. This is particularly the case, when the stories draw their form from the Christian tradition and its store of transcendental truths. What, then, constitutes modern historical mythology and what are its sources? The rise of mass communication media and its ability (and willingness) to retell stories has been mirrored by a gradual decline of storytelling within the family and community sphere. While radio shows are fondly remembered by the older generations, the young people of today experience storytelling and historical mythology almost exclusively though the moving picture, the product of the entertainment industry. Without doubt, storytelling within the family was intended not only for edification, but also for entertainment. In cinematography however, considering the expense associated with visually recreating times past, and recreating them well, there is a need, reinforced by the ‘want’ of commercialism, to appeal to an audience as large as possible. But since there are more of us interested in having fun, than in being challenged by the standards of another age, the entertainment value, or the ability to appeal to the present man, has become the almost exclusive value. At this point it is fitting to be reminded again what Ridley Scott claims about his movie, The Kingdom of Heaven. By defining it as historical fiction, Scott distances himself not only from the rigours of documentaries but presumably also from the moralizing identified with historical mythology. But, if a historical myth can be crudely and simplistically defined as a story in a historical setting intended to communicate a message, then in the present vacuum of historical understanding among the young, Scott’s story cannot do otherwise but communicate a message, as it cannot do otherwise but shape popular historical understanding. It is the arts after all which teach us how to feel, and historical stories in particular teach us about issues that Winnie the Pooh cannot. Viewed in this light, the grand epics such as Troy, Alexander, or The Kingdom of Heaven, fail almost by definition. A wise and venerable priest confessed to me recently, how he abandoned a project to write a historical novel set in the 16th century, after he found it impossible to sustain and explain the mindset of the historical period. Yet the rate at which Hollywood has been producing historical sagas in the last 5 years suggests that they are not an attempt to open the treasures of the past and bring out things both old and new. Rather, they are an intrusion of modernity, of its values, sins and fears, into history. Although there is certainly a case to be made against exaggerated nationalism and exclusivist claims that render all outsiders evil by definition, political correctness has made history into a minefield of sensitivities. As Evan Williams notes in the Weekend Australian, in modern historical fiction “there are good guys, but they are not necessarily morally superior to the bad guys,” mostly for fear of offending some group, nation or religion. The net result is that modern historical sagas fail to produce heroes. The main characters they propose to us are often enough more at home in our century than in their historical setting. They lack the virtues proper to their era, they are as baffled as we are about the standards of another age and they are equally unable to explain it. The dismissiveness they inevitably adopt seems to in the end flow from sheer ignorance. Being “soulful [and] conscience-stricken” did not prevent Orlando Bloom’s character in The Kingdom of Heaven from engaging in an affair with a married woman, instead it made him a champion of the (modern) people and therefore anti-clerical and certainly opposed to institutionalized religion. In this way, popular understanding of greatness is restricted by the wisdom, and the sad errors, of the present age and history ceases to act as the mentor of humanity and instead becomes a justification for passing fads. What these movies in effect create, is a myth of the modern man as the hero of all history. Of course we cannot blame Ridley Scott for not presenting Balian as a saint, as we cannot blame Chaucer for casting so many sinners in his tales. But from the little school ministry I have been involved in, I begin to realize that our young generation is educated much more by television and the cinema, then by their parents, let alone the Church. Thus the fact that modern cinematography, even in its historical productions, presents a view of human greatness that only partially accounts for all the areas of human living and which falls short of the holistic lives of the saints, may in part explain the inability of many of our young people to appreciate the concepts and categories of religion. They pass their youth without experiencing at least in stories concrete examples of holiness, greatness and the transcendental in a specifically Catholic context. Instead, the relentless caricature of the clergy and of institutionalized religion, so vivid in The Kingdom of Heaven, contributes to their hardness of heart. The call of the Second Vatican Council for mature faith and living means that, among other things, Catholics ought to be conscious of the things in our past, which are rightly open for criticism. Thus, there needs to be in art, and in storytelling, characters belonging to our faith, who are far from admirable. But the darkness of sin must not be allowed to block out the splendor or the total moral superiority of the saints from enlightening the young. From the point of view of history and of storytelling, there is therefore in our time a need to rediscover again not only the biblical stories of the Old and New Testament, or the lives of the saints, but also specifically Christian historical fiction. Louis de Wohl’s excellent novels about saints, such as St Thomas Aquinas (The quiet light) or St Catherine of Siena (Lay siege to heaven), admirably combine the virtues of this genre, a strong literary plot combined with elements of hagiography, Church history and theology. Historical criticism and accountability have over the modern centuries unnecessarily deprived the Church and her people of the riches of Christian mythology and historical fiction. But as the secular world rediscovers historical storytelling and perhaps unwittingly colors the ages with its ideology, a challenge presents itself to us: to bring once again into our families and churches the art of the story and thus to claim the great things in history, which are properly ours.