Reading Again: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Chapters 1-3), An ordinary Rabbit with an extraordinary waistcoat and watch.

[Alice] was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself "Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!" (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet [. . .]

Oh, Alice. Alice the naive and, at least so far, cat-obsessed. Alice the hesitant to exert the simple effort to pick flowers, but Alice the quick to chase after Rabbits at the simple look of a watch.

Right off, Alice forces one to confront the age old question: If a talking Rabbit with a waistcoat and pocket-watch ran by, how long would it take before I noticed something out of the ordinary was happening? Another way of asking this question might be the following: How perceptive am I?

Thinking about this question makes me confront how I often exert minimal effort in perceiving my environment. Often, I focus my perception only to what I consider useful at that given time and largely ignore everything else. I filter out background noise or I ignore details of buildings/signs with no direct bearing on my safe driving. I suppose this is a necessary and useful skill since I can only process so much stimuli at one time, but I sometimes wonder if it makes me miss out on Wonderland in the moment.

If I really payed attention, how many more wonder-filled moments would I find everyday? Responsibility and real life require me to filter, but Alice helps remind me to remember to perceive both the ordinary and the extraordinary. Sometimes, like Alice, it will take thinking back and reflection to fully grasp some of what happens, but my Adventures in Fort Waynederland are happening whether I perceive them or not. I should probably pay attention before it's "too late."

Reading Again: Watership Down (Chapters 31, 34-End); Stories, Historicity, and Generation Gaps

I'm cheating a bit since the main prompt for this was in a chapter I read yesterday, but it ties in with today's reading as well.

At the end of Chapter 31, "The Story of El-ahrairah and the Black Rabbit of Inlè", the young rabbits in El-ahrairah's warren saved from the siege did not appreciate their elders, or the effort they had exerted fighting for and achieving the safety they were living in. In fact, they despised their elders and their stories and said they had "nothing to do with us." El-ahrairah was grieved at this because he had suffered much to benefit the warren. He said this situation made him learn "that with creatures one loves, suffering is not the only thing for which one may pity them. A rabbit who does not know when a gift has made him safe is poorer than a slug, even though he may think otherwise himself."

The generation gap in El-ahrairah's warren was very stark. The younger generation was unwilling to learn from the older generations, and would have to learn the hard way that their positive self-perception would come crashing down when actually tried. It is easy to take credit for good things and peaceful times won through the work of others, it is much harder to acknowledge and take ownership of personal shortcomings. Better to learn to acknowledge and overcome one's shortcomings during the good times, leaning on the knowledge and experience of older generations, than ignore and deny the shortcomings until disaster proves them plainly.

The younger rabbits of the Watership warren are different in that they appreciated the tales of the older generations and were eager to hear them. But there is a danger here also. The history and lessons learned were preserved and mythologized, but this mythologization could allow younger generations to discount the myths as only stories with no real substance. Looking at religious history, one can see far too many examples of how quickly this can happen. Once historicity is thrown out the window, stories become whatever one wants and can be applied or ignored at will. We can see something like this within contemporary Christianity when the historicity of the Bible is questioned or outright denied. Once historicity goes, one loses truth and is left with a dissolving myth. Once historicity goes, lessons are lost and mistakes are repeated.

As a voracious reader, I think there is a reason why the best stories, while being unique and original, remind us of other stories. There is truth behind the best stories even if the details are fictional. Myth and fiction can be useful teaching tools in presenting themes as long as truth is held fast and not discarded with the fictions. It is a tragedy indeed when a generation, a society, a culture loses its ability to discern the difference between fiction and myth and the truths that lie behind them. Once that discernment is lost, there is only drowning in a sea of relativistic narrative that can be used or dispensed with as convenient. We'd be trapped in our own fictions unless the truth comes to save, and thankfully He does. Thankfully He does.

Reading Again: Watership Down (Chapters 12-33); Kehaar, "mudders", and elaborate plans.

In the the introduction to my edition of Watership Down (Prennial Classics, 2001), the author Richard Adams relates his difficulty getting the book published:

 I went from publisher to publisher and literary agent to agent. The book was rejected by four well-known publishers and by three literary agents. They all said, in effect, the same thing: "Older children wouldn't like it because it's about rabbits, which they consider babyish; and younger children wouldn't like it because it's written in an adult style, which they would find too difficult." I thought, "Who's talking about children? This book is for readers of all ages."

 Adams was right about the audience for the novel. I loved this book as a young reader, and I'm loving the book at least as much as an adult reader. However, I fear it might be even harder to find a publisher now than it was 40 years ago due to recent cultural developments. Maybe it isn't surprising that a book about rabbits would cause controversy, but let me elaborate.

Hazel recognizes a problem and has the brilliant idea of befriending other animals to help do reconnaissance, but leaves his plan hazy until Kehaar has been befriended. Kehaar the violent, Kehaar the brave, Kehaar the thick-accented, Kehaar the awesome. Hazel then gets right to the point and lays it out like this: "We're doing well here, [. . . but] unless we can find the answer, then this warren's as good as finished, in spite of all we've done. [. . .] We have no does--not one--and no does means no kittens and in a few years no warren." Leave it to rabbits to talk frankly about reproduction. And when Kehaar is informed of the problem, he sees the truth of the problem, understands completely and volunteers to help the rabbits find "mudders."

These characters are animals and are addressing the topic with no concept of romance or love, but they present a simple fact: there is male and female, and this distinction is not arbitrary and unimportant, but functional, vital, and complementary. In other places, the bucks discuss how the differences are not only sexual, but also in personality and skillsets. Bucks are not interchangeable with does. Even though they might be able to do the same tasks when necessary, they are still inherently different. Acknowledging this difference does not imply one is more valuable. Quite the opposite actually, the difference cements the value of each precisely because they are not interchangeable. In the book, does are worth risking everything in executing elaborate plans. Conversely, when everyone is interchangeable, it isn't that far a journey to everyone is dispensable. There isn't much empowerment or comfort in that.

 Again the book is dealing with animals, so many relationship dynamics are flattened, simplified, or reduced to blunt points like reproduction and breeding stock. Still, I worry that a book like this might be avoided by publishers today because, it seems, the fact of truly distinct but complementary sexes and gender roles has become culturally controversial. Defending the truth of male and female is outright mocked in what seem to be ever expanding circles. One could write this aspect of the book off as an outdated anthropomorphism, or animal behavior that has nothing in common with today's enlightened understanding of human society, love, sexuality, gender roles, etc.. However, I see nothing helpful in doing so. That seems to be like the rabbits in Strawberry's old warren ignoring the snares in exchange for having their challenges artificially disappear. They get what they thought they wanted to find it ultimately weakens them and starves the richness of their existence.

Our society and culture moves and morphs so quickly, so we do need discussion on these topics. But if the discussion starts downplaying or ignoring the fact of male and female, we shouldn't be surprised if we end up with "no warren" by ending up with amorphous, relativistic category definitions resulting in generic, dispensable individuals. Instead, why don't we look at the diversity of complementary design that is male and female, value the differences of their inherent design and resulting unique functions, and start the discussion from there?

Reading Again: Watership Down, Chapters 1-11--Leaders and Bigwigs

What do you get when you cross grand epic with rabbits? Why, Watership Down, of course! It's been altogether too long since I've revisited this book, and the writing has drawn me in all over again.

In the beginning of the book, there is a nice potential tension set up between Hazel and Bigwig. Hazel is obviously the center of the narrative, but Bigwig is a more obvious Chief Rabbit because he is stronger and more imposing. What I'm finding especially interesting about this dynamic this read-through is how Hazel misjudges Bigwig.

We meet Bigwig when Hazel and Fiver go to see The Threarah. Bigwig is on sentry duty, and he could have turned them away. However, Bigwig thinks Hazel a "sensible fellow" and obviously respects him. In spite of this, Hazel still has internal reservations about Bigwig leaving the warren with them, thinking the following: "[. . .] although Bigwig would certainly be a useful rabbit in a tight corner, he would also be a difficult one to get on with. He certainly would not want to do what he was told--or even asked--by an outskirter."

These thoughts are shown false almost immediately as the group is leaving. Bigwig starts to give his advice, but is shot down by Hazel before he presents his thought. Hazel leads the group to leave, and that is that. Bigwig lets Hazel take the lead, and off they go.

When Bigwig talks to Hazel next, it is out of concern for the weaker members of the group that he informs Hazel they need to stop and rest. The fact Bigwig talks to Hazel rather than address the group directly already shows Bigwig acknowledges Hazel's leadership. Hazel gets to declare the decision to rest. When Blackberry asks Bigwig to swim the river and investigate, he does what he is asked because he sees the sense in it. When Pipkin and Fiver are floating in the river because they were too weak to swim, Bigwig pushes them across. When Pipkin is attacked by a crow, Bigwig comes to his rescue and shows concern. When the other rabbits start to turn on Hazel and question his leadership, Bigwig does go too far, but uses the influence he knows he has to show he doesn't approve of the grumblings against Hazel.

The key moments that officially establish Hazel as Chief Rabbit are still to come, but all of the signs are already there that Bigwig will be a loyal follower who can yield authority, and can use his strength and loyalty to unite the group under the best leader for the group. Bigwig ultimately shows his leadership in following. In yielding, he is strong. Bigwig resists the seduction of power and developing a big head, and shows his resolve in the process.

When Bigwig had voiced his surprise that Fiver didn't convice The Threarah that the whole warren should have left, Hazel criticized The Threarah saying it was because he "doesn't like anything he hasn't thought of for himself." This statement is an antithesis of the leadership displayed by Hazel, and, at times, Bigwig.

Some might argue that Bigwig should be the leader. He could take control by force if he wanted too. He must be weak since he is a follower who yields the authority that should be his. This is a horrible confusion of power and forcefulness with leadership and character. If you want your leaders to be tyrants, then fine. But I'll take anyday the weakness of leadership that is content to follow when beneficial, values what others contribute, and uses strength to serve others. I'll be weak like Bigwig.