In the Shadow of a Giant: Gulliver #8

If you are following along in the Summer Read, it would be helpful if you’ve read through Chapter V of Brobdingnag in Gulliver’s Travels.

The more I think about our journeys with Gulliver thus far, the more I’ve realized how I struggle to sympathize with the giant. Maybe it says something about my view of humanity. Even though I know we are supposed to assume the vantage point of Gulliver throughout the voyages, I just couldn’t be Gulliver the Man-mountain. I couldn’t allow myself to make everyone else the butt of the joke while I stood above them. My foolish heart is all-too-prone to prideful outbursts to allow for such an exercise. I was more drawn to the eyepiece of the Lilliputians. Maybe it says something about my view of humanity. Maybe the historical popularity of the Lilliputian story (almost to the exclusion of the next three episodes) says something about humanity.

I point this out to say I recognize that I then put forward something of an inconsistency when I so easily assume Gulliver’s vantage point on Brobdingnag. I am inclined to sympathize with the small. I’m not sure where everyone else is at this point, but I’m actually enjoying Brobdingnag more, because the goal of the voyage is to hold up that big ‘ol mirror to show Gulliver (and, by extension, you and me) how silly we and self-centered we can be.

Consider for a moment Gulliver’s reaction to the giant king’s perspective on England in Chapter III.

“This prince took a Pleasure in conversing with me, enquiring into the manners, religion, laws, government, and learning of Europe… after an hearty fit of laughing, asked me whether I were a Whig or a Tory… and thus he continued on, while my colour came and went several times, with indignation to hear our noble country… so contemptuously treated.” 

Gulliver’s country, his way of living, were called into question in a mocking tone. Like any of us, he was offended… at first. He couldn’t bear the thought of his very existence being ridiculed in the hands of a giant. Gulliver takes pride in his sight, his ability to engage wisdom and reason. And now, in the shadow of a giant, it is all fair game for laughter.

BUT… Gulliver has a quick change of heart.

“I began to doubt whether I were injured or no. For, after having been accustomed several months to… these people… the horror I had first conceived from their bulk and aspect was so far worn off, that if I had then beheld a company of English Lords and Laides… acting their several parts in the most courtly manner… I should have been strongly tempted to laugh as much at them as the King and his Grandees did at me.” 

Why the swift (pun intended) change of heart? Why the near instant reconsideration? Gulliver explains with comments peppered throughout this situation.

“as I was not in a condition to resent injuries…” (because of his small stature, what good would come of being offended?)

“(as) I observed every object upon which I cast my eyes to be of proportional magnitude…” (not only the people, but this world was bigger than he)

“So that I really began to imagine my self dwindled many degrees below my usual size.” 

Lemuel Gulliver, through this voyage to the peninsula of the giants, had the chance to see himself as small. And the smaller he became in relation to everyone and everything, he found freedom. Freedom to laugh at himself, his culture, his history, his future. He found freedom to let go of injury when someone was picking near his heart. He found freedom to live beneath his neighbor (whereas in Lilliput, he was of the utmost significance and far above even the greatest of their nation). Even if just for awhile.

Again, there are no footnotes of epic significance in this story. Other than to clarify explicit references made in the chapters, the story stands alone, and Gulliver is made quite small.

I believe Lilliput, if read through the eyes of the Man-mountain, serves to lower our defenses and prepare us to be examined on Brobdingnag. Through those same eyes, we now get to feel small, exploited, mocked, and mistreated. But, through the efforts of a young nurse named Glumdalclitch, Gulliver also experiences the kind of love that guards the weak… even if imperfectly.

Oh, that we would all feel so small as to be humble…
… and so loved as to be lifted up.

 

 

 

Advertisements

A Vile Torrent: Gulliver #4

If you are following along in the Summer Read, this post assumes you’ve finished Chapter V of Gulliver’s Travels. If you happen to be reading the kiddos’ version, it would help if you’ve read through pg. 37.

On Pace

Despite the extensive vocabulary and the centuries-wide gap in manners of speech, I’m still enjoying Gulliver. I am excited to serve as family narrator for the summer, reading the nerd version aloud to my wife and the kiddos version to our four young ones. At different points, I’ve caught everyone in the family laughing, even our littlest. All along, everyone has listened intently and stayed on board to at least have an understanding of the story. I hope you’ve found a sense of enjoyment in the book as well.

I’ve also enjoyed reading quite slowly. I’m often one to swallow a book quickly, which can have its benefits. But there is a wonderful delight in chewing on the chapters for awhile in order to let them smack me around a bit. If, as Swift has said, truth convicts, then we must let truth speak no matter where we find it!

On Making Water

Mr. Gulliver is not shy about sharing stories involving bodily functions. In fact, they provide some of the lighter moments in his Travels thus far. As I considered the event of the flames in the royal palace (and the unorthodox effort to extinguish), I was again drawn to consider the incident from multiple perspectives.

With the palace on fire, Gulliver used the only viable resource available. He considered it lucky, in fact, to have such an opportunity. And so naturally he availed himself, though I’m pretty sure it would take a Gulliver-sized bladder on a Lilliputian for the effort to have lasted a full three minutes. In any case, the flames were out, the mission accomplished, and the day sufficiently saved.

Despite the preservation of the palace – with a lingering funk – the people are unsure of the method employed by the Man Mountain. Gulliver himself worries that the Emperor will resent his actions. In the end, though Gulliver receives a pardon for the crime (punishable by death!), the Empress chooses to move across the grounds rather than live near such a vile act. She distances herself from the offensive action rather than see (or smell) the effects. Gulliver’s time on the island has taken a turn for the less comfortable. It would seem as though, on a certain level, the royal family might have preferred their home to burn than to be saved in such a manner. Imagine the horror of the scene through the eyes of one 1/12th the size of the giant!

Perspective.

As the footnotes declare, the palace fire is possibly a reference to Queen Anne’s hesitation to elevate Swift in the Anglican church because of his occasionally crude and impious way of telling stories. (Go figure!) If this is the case, then the goal is to join Swift in his smarmy satire and view the situation through the cynical eyes of the author. Maybe we’re supposed to see the whole situation as ridiculous and cheer as the overconfident Lilliputians get theirs. But there is a strange draw in the story that leaves me sympathetic to the Lilliputians as well. I am curious, this time around in reading the book, if I’m drawn to the inhabitants of the other lands as much as I am this first bunch.

Taking the Lilliputian perspective, then, I can’t help but think of sovereignty and blood.

Really, Bob?

Really.

I cannot count the number of times in my life I’ve heard or been asked, why would a good God _________? The question is posed as a response to doubt and pain. If I may toy with the notion of our current chapter, though, I would propose that often times providence feels like the vile torrent of Swift’s Chapter V. Caught within the circumstance, with a perspective far too small and marred by sin, it might appear that we are being defiled in the hands of a irrational God. As a result, we respond in a manner not unlike the Empress… disgust and distance. We stay away from the pain, away from the damage, away from the redeeming quality, because to face the damage is to possibly face the uncomfortable means by which we received care.

Could it be that God might work through pain – not only by passively allowing it, but also by actively ordaining it as his agent in this cursed world – in order to bring the greatest redemption? To be quite honest, sometimes our palaces need a little “made water” in order to let go of them as a means of ultimate security. The irony of Swift’s beef with the Queen is that in what seems like taking out his frustration through a tale of filthy firefighting, he was illustrating the point he may have failed to believe… that sometimes the vile torrent is a means of grace. Setback and pain are warning signs that something is amiss, and a clear signal that our eyes may be fixed on the wrong mighty fortress.

I think of biblical redemption and what is often considered the vile torrent that brings peace – blood. And this all in the name of supreme love? For those who cannot bring themselves to find comfort in the bloody reality of salvation, typified in animal sacrifice and fulfilled in the cross of Christ, they too respond with disgust and distance. Yet it is the disgusting and vile blood that saves. At the risk of sounding irreverent in the face of a story such as the palace fire, there is something very real to consider… God’s ordained means of saving have rarely if ever resembled the expected. And to be quite honest, if we’re not willing to embrace mystery in humility, his means are often downright difficult.

I don’t want to press to far in aligning Gulliver with God in the story. I don’t believe that to be the point. But I can’t help but see the parallels when the so-small-yet-so-puffed-up race encounter the giant beyond their comprehension. I don’t see God in Gulliver as much as I see myself in the Lilliputians.

 

“… For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.” (2Corinthians 1:8b-9 ESV)

“So to keep me from being too elated by the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (2Corinthians 12:7-9 ESV)