Many years ago, when it was fashionable, I read Tolkein's Lord of the Rings trilogy. Then, I re-read it. Being the kind of person who liked to take long walks in the outdoors, even as a youth, I envisioned the books as a lengthy outdoor adventure, with mysterious encounters. The battle scenes, whether small skirmishes or large-scale war, were merely incidental, background material.
When the movie came out, I didn't see it. Some friends did, and they commented on the numerous combat scenes. My first thought was that the movie was a product of the times, which feature numerous special effects, surround-sound violence, and game-station bad guys. Yet the viewers, most of whom had also read the books, agreed that the movie was the expected portrayal of the overall, violent theme. That was a surprise to me.
Reviewing my mental image of scenes from the book, I could think of only a few instances where there had been large-scale violence, and in each case the main plot was being carried by characters who were peripheral rather than involved. Reviewing their mental images of the books, my friends could only speak of what to them were boringly long, naturalistic passages that were unimportant fill between the essential combat scenes. To each his own, as the saying goes!
But I wasn't thinking of Tolkein when I fired up the computer to write this blog entry. James Branch Cabell, an American author of a century ago, had come to mind. You can find some very good critiques of his works online, since he wrote the kind of novels that would be of interest to the more refined critics. Most of it would now fit in the "fantasy" genre, but it is evident that his fantasy was merely a vehicle for expressing his own thoughts. That is, he was long on words — very good words — and short on action.
I read a few of Cabell's books many years ago. Of all that I read, one particular theme sticks in my mind. I can't even recall which of his many books includes it. The topic in question, which is a unifying theme to some other stories, concerns the afterlife. His theology was, if anything, nontheology. The spiritual realm is whatever suits the needs of his story. If there is a creator, it is some undefinable entity acting at whim; all else, including supposedly supreme deities, would be the creation of that whim. Being whimsical, these created deities were not particularly important, except in their own minds.
In the book in question, one of the characters must find information known only to his deceased grandmother. A premise of the story is that one gets whatever afterlife one expects. There is no divine justice, or plan, or purpose. We learn from the story that whatever most people say about religion, they do not really expect an afterlife, so perforce they do not get one. Among the true believers, the majority believe that they are sinful and will go to Hell, so that is what they get. Again, justice does not matter; you get what you expect. Most do not complain (since they got what they expected); but one deceased character, who had imagined himself to be the most excessive sinner, complained that he was not tortured as much as he deserved; the demons were unionized, and that would be against their work rules.
The grandmother was the pious sort who believed that she would go to Heaven, so she got it. But of course, she also believed that everyone else was a sinner, so she was alone in Heaven with a very bored God (whom she expected, complete with long beard) and numerous little children, whom she believed went to Heaven when they died young. It was outside the scope of the story, but I have no doubt that Cabell would have specified numerous, independent Heavens (with numerous, independent gray-bearded Gods) for the pious who believed that they alone merited Heaven.
As I recall, the living protagonist first goes to Hell (because he expected that the path was easy, of course). There, he inquires as to how he might get to Heaven alive, to see his grandmother (whom he expected would have gone there). He is told that all he needs to do is climb up the ladder. Although he hadn't particularly expected a ladder, he had expected that the demons could show him the way up. There was no problem with the damned escaping, since they expected that they could not escape. The protagonist completes his mission and returns to earth, because he expected that he could.
Vikings got Valhalla rather than Heaven, and were carried there by Valkyries, as expected. In one scene, continued as an epilogue, the simultaneous combat deaths of a Christian knight and pagan Viking causes a mixup, with the first getting Valhalla, and the second Paradise (this being somewhat different than the gray-beard Heaven). Each is disappointed, but makes the best of things after arrival.
That's my memory of Cabell's theme, remembered many years after reading it. I have no idea if my memory is accurate or not, so if you came across my blog looking for reliable information, you are in the wrong place. But as long as you are here, be like the knight, and make the best of things: have a look at my other un-blog entries.