I’m going to be honest; I never even made it through the first book of Gerald N. Lund’s The Work and the Glory series.
And I don’t really regret it (especially after seeing the first movie). The same happened with the Left Behind books, by evangelical preacher Tim LaHaye and novelist Jerry Jenkins—an interpretation of Revelations, set in the context of contemporary global politics. And with countless other Christian fiction books that found their way into my Christmas stocking or were cleverly disguised as birthday presents. I couldn’t get into it.
A July 2004 issue of World magazine reads, "The bigger problem is . . . religious fiction has become a genre unto itself, with conventi
ons of its own. One-dimensional characters contend against one-dimensional villains. The style is preachy. The theme is moralistic. The plot is characterized by implausible divine intervention. While the convention demands a conversion, the characters are never allowed to do anything very sinful, or, if they do, the author is not allowed to show it. At the end, all problems are solved and everyone lives happily ever after. It is all sweetness, light, uplift and cliche."
Like any genre, Christian fiction has certain conventions, which its readers look for.
According to evangelical author Angela Hunt, the story should illustrate some aspect of Christian faith.
In addition, the story should be clean—devoid of profanity and obscenity. Most who read Christian fiction believe in God and would be offended by profanity, so writers have to get creative, using phrases like, “He cursed,” and “His muttered oath made her blush.”
Finally, Hunt says that Christian fiction needs to offer hope, because that’s what God offers.
These elements, w
hich Hunt says are required in Christian fiction, are only advanced by the fact that the market for religious fiction is much smaller than other fiction genres. This means most religious fiction is published by religious publishing houses and sold in religious markets. Writers of religious fiction must comply with these standards if they wish to succeed in their competitive field and win over publishers and their audience.
But in addition to these, readers want what any fiction reader wants: good writing—tight plots, believable characters (the heroes and the villains), new settings, attention to details, subtle themes.
Evangelical writer and editor Penelope Stokes (The Complete Guide to Writing and Selling the Christian Novel, 1998) wrote, “Let’s be honest here. Our customers are not, by and large, bright-eyed, eager, deeply spiritual intellectuals who want to be challenged, educated, and stretched. They are ordinary people—usually women and usually middle aged—who want a good story with strong values, likable characters, a fast-moving plot and a satisfying ending.”
Angela Hunt’s characters drink, commit murder, curse, divorce, abuse their children, have affairs and interact with demons. In Christian novelist Frank Peretti’s The Oath, characters confront raw evil, murder one another, take secret oaths, commit adultery and fight dragons (what?!)
In my opinion, and drawing from personal experience, I have found Christian fiction to be unfulfilling as a literary or a spiritual experience. Due to the restrictions placed upon the authors by their audience and their publishing houses, creativity is limited. In addition, I find the watered-down spiritual principles, which are often haphazardly thrown in, uninspiring. I find taking serious doctrine and placing it in a fictitious setting alongside serious sin to be uncomfortable for me as a reader and as a Christian.
So,
- Do the conventions of Christian fiction stifle authors’ creativity and result in substandard work?
- What qualifies as Christian fiction? Is it OK to place doctrine alongside murder, adultery, and other grievous sins? If all it is, is a nice story about a good girl, that never mentions anything opaquely religious, is it really religious fiction?
I had never thought of religious/Christian literature this way before. I understand how authors could feel that their creativity is limited by the genre. I also see the uncomfort in placing serious doctrine alongside serious sin in a fictitious setting.
ReplyDeleteI wonder what the benefit of removing the conventions of Christian fiction would be. Yes, it would allow for expansion into further-reaching scenarios and descriptions, but then what would set it apart from other fictiotious literature? Does simply following the trend of of other non-religious-themed books offer enough incentive and payoff to do so? I'm not sure that it does.
It might feel more realistic to incorporate doctrine alongside serious sins - or would that feel more unrealistic. I think there is a balance somewhere in the middle, though I admit I do not know where that line is. At some point it does become too uncomfortable for the author's intended audience and the value is lost.
I don't think it is truly religious fiction though if not developed as such; if that were the case, I believe it would feel like any other fictional book.
This post makes me think of the Book of Mormon. We know that it is not a fictional narrative, but it does teach doctrines and principles within the context of righteous and unrighteous peoples, though without much graphic description. I think there would an element of increased creativity in going beyond accepted conventions in Christian literature, but I also think that might defeat the purpose of the story in the first place.