INSPIRATION & BOOKS

By the time you read this, my wife and I will have arrived in Korea for another two months stint. I have multiple book related events and will also be leading/participating in a few conferences. Unlike the spring itinerary, the fall’s itinerary will be packed as we will be on the road quite a bit.

Good books according to my working definition whether fiction or non-fiction allow and invite me to read my life. This reading of my life is uncoerced as I parallelly imagine my life in the lives and thoughts of characters and/or authors. They allow me to find and discover my life as it is unfolding, as well as to question, find answers, and raise other questions. They are like kind and patient guides that probe my life like no other. I dictate the speed and intricacy of the surgery of my heart and mind. Even the books that seem to be forcefully adamant about their opinions and views, I get to discern and choose. The fact of the matter is that it is ultimately my life and I know what speaks to me and what does not at different times of my life. I often underline or make notes on the side when I am inspired and when my soul’s experiences are congruent with what I may be reading at the time. My life experiences resonate with authors’ experiences, imaginative or real, and as a result, create a sense of common bond across times and cultures. By reading these books, I am invited to read my life.

When I know I am “inspired,” it lands on me as a confirmation of what was already being awakened and formed in me. The apex of inspiration is the meeting place between the existing (but slightly lacking in assurance) internal leanings and the Kairos external stimuli. The stimuli generate a deep sense of confirmation of what we already knew and knew to be true. These moments of inspiration certainly extend beyond just good books but rather to the multiplicity of art mediums. I find it difficult and disingenuous to induce such inspiration. For inspiration to be genuine and lasting, inspiration almost always bears a surprising quality and unpredictable nature. As such, it is almost impossible to arrive at the point of inspiration through some logical and methodical processes.

I have experienced multiple inspirational moments through books over the years. Though they vary with impact, three experiences top the list. For each of those three moments, I vividly remember where I read it, what I was reading, and how I felt at the time. It was like time stood still and everything was moving in slow motion. Two of those times, I wept uncontrollably. One I was dumbfounded for a long time and lost looking vacantly at the distant San Gabriel mountains, half dazed. One of those times, I wept uncontrollably was while I was reading J.R.R. Tolkien’s Chapter 5 (The Ride of the Rohirrim) of The Return of the King. Below is a rather long quote toward the end of the chapter.

At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect.  Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before,

Arise, arise, Riders of Theoden!
Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!
spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!
Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

With that he seized a great horn from Guthlaf his banner-bearer and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder.  And straightway all horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains.

Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away.  Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it.  After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them.  Eomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first eored roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Theoden could not be outpaced.  Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Orome the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young.  His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed.  For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them.  And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City. (Italicized mine)

This remains one of my favorite literary texts of all time. “And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them,” Tolkien writes. I remember reading this passage more than 25 years ago at Starbucks in Gangnam Korea. This was where I lost it completely. A middle-aged man weeping in the middle of Starbucks must have been a scene! But I could care less. . . because I was standing on holy ground. I might have knelt in submission if I really did not care what others thought of me. The conjured-up image was God’s glory reigning in the company of “men,” singing and experiencing joy amid battle. The “battle” was none other than life to me at the time as life is a great battle for everyone. Thus at the heart of it has been the overarching desire to experience the “joy of life (joie de vivre).” My heart told me that day I would love to be in this kind of company. Who will God send our way to “sing as we slay” alongside us and do life with?

Decades later and the years in between, I find myself in the middle of such a company and have received countless courage from this company of men and women. It is not unlike Eowyn whispering to the ear of Merry, a Hobbit, before the charge, “Courage, Merry. Courage for our friends.” What came to me as an inspiration became my prayer and my prayer is being answered.

For those who are inclined to watch Peter Jackson’s interpretation of the scene above, below is the link.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8yOdAqBFcQ