Controversially Against the Controversial

Did the title catch your eye? If it seems contradictory, it’s because it is. We live in a world of contradictions. And as Christians, we are called to live controversial lives – in the world, not of the world. Jesus Christ himself – his identity, his life, and his mission – may have been the greatest controversy of all time. At least it’s safe to say he caused quite a stir. A world-changing, life-altering stir.

Fast forward 2,000 years. In the post modern age of electronics and fast food (faster everything, actually), we Americans love controversies. Our media devours them, chewing them up and spitting them out again for the public, appearing slightly different from their original state. And even when they get a little messy, it’s safe to say we love our debates. We love to be right. Even more, we love the spotlight. In fact, some of us love it so much, it doesn’t really even matter anymore how we get there. This is why we love controversies – significant or not, as the case may be – we love attention. And if we’re honest with ourselves, most of the controversies we give attention probably don’t deserve the attention. In short, most of us aren’t really concerned with revealing the truth, or changing lives. As long as we get our five minutes of fame, that’s all that really matters.

That’s the trouble with the authors and artists and filmmakers of our day. Everyone is clamoring for their spot on the stage, for their six weeks on the best sellers list, or their place in the 10 most popular songs chart. These folks know how to do it too. Just look at John Cage, Katy Perry, or Dan Brown to name a few. The problem with people like these though, is that controversy for the sake of controversy isn’t actually attracting attention because it’s new or different – it attracts attention because it appeals to the shallow cravings of human nature. In the end, it’s all just adding to the noise of a culture that is slowly dragging itself deeper into depravity.

You might point out that the case I’m making is, in essence, controversial. You’d be right. But what is the case I’m trying to make, anyway?

I am controversially against the controversial.

I believe that one of the main reasons that our culture is in the predicament that we’re in, is because with all the hype over the “new” and the “different”, we’ve forgotten the steadfastness of what has already been written in stone. First and foremost, that would include God. But in the ever-escalating pursuit of modern advancement, we have undermined the importance of our past. In this case, our nation’s past. Our history. Our specific history of God’s providence in our story as a nation. Actually, if Americans pay any attention to history at all, it’s mostly to criticize our nations past leaders or – you guessed it – to dig up (or more often, invent) controversies about their character. After all, this is what gets us the attention we crave. But the idea that we would seek to slander some of the very individuals who fought to win and preserve our freedoms, all for the sake of pursuing our own popularity should put us to shame. Quite honestly, it makes me sick.

But before I go any further and leave any room for confusion, let me clear a few things up. Our founding fathers and the icons of our past were human too. They were not saints (at least, no more in the sense than we are), immune to sin and the deceitful nature of the heart. They were not unscathed by the temptations of their culture – indeed, they would have defined their own age as “modern” because it was as far as anyone had ever gotten! The idea is not that they were perfect; but that the point of history is that we might learn from it. Time and time again God has raised up imperfect men and women to places of authority so that we might look back and remember that it was Him working through them for their good and eventually, ours today.

Does this mean we don’t form opinions about people in history? Absolutely not. Part of the process of learning from the past is identifying faults in systems, societies, and individuals and learning from the resulting consequences. If we did not identify these faults or judge people according to their choices – both good and bad – then we would never learn from them. The closer we examine and the deeper we dig, the more we glean. But what are motives in picking apart the characters of revered men like Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, or Abraham Lincoln? When we discover a flaw, is our desire to learn from the mistake, or to exult in its uncovering as we might in a juicy piece of gossip? If we’re honest with ourselves, our first reaction to such a finding is to inwardly gloat in the idea that such a revered icon was really no better than us. Those with the opportunity will almost always take it to the next level – publicize the flaw so that it excites enough people to bring in a profit by one means or another. In this regard, controversies have become almost…predictable. Makes you think, doesn’t it?

People throughout the ages have taken hits to their character by ignorant later generations. As Americans, our founding fathers have been the primary recipients of such ridicule. I would like to focus this series, however, about some popular controversies over the War Between the States. Some of the rising issues regarding this pivotal conflict involve core players, like Abraham Lincoln and William T. Sherman. I would also like to devote some time to a question that still rears its ugly head today – which side was right, and which was wrong? Was either? And what, or who, really caused the war?

There are people today, 150 years later, who are suddenly speaking up with controversial opinions – proclaiming that the Confederacy was in the right, or that Abraham Lincoln was not as heroic as he has been made out to be. Is this simply the result of more years of research – the digging up of truths that we have long ignored? Have Americans really been left in the dark on these issues for a century and a half? Or is it just the hunger for fame that has inflated our appetite for historical controversies? Maybe it’s one, maybe it’s the other. Maybe it’s a combination of the both. I have a theory for the final judgment: First, we must objectively seek the facts. And by facts I mean the hard, material evidence left behind for us in the form of letters, speeches and documents. We cannot go by the opinions of scholars and historians alone – opinions vary as surely as we vary as individuals. We must see for ourselves what really happened, or what was really said, by reading these first hand sources. Secondly, we must not judge anyone by only one corner of their lives – whether it be their political, social, or family circles. We must take into account all of the aspects that make a person who he is, including their friends, their families, their influences, and their pasts. We must judge them the same way we judge ourselves. If we do not do this, we can never learn from them.

So…with all these things taken into consideration…I am going to attempt to tackle at least 3 main controversies revolving around the Civil War. Knowing me, I will undoubtedly get sidetracked and veer off onto some rabbit trails, but they will be branches of these core issues. First, I want to unpack the problem of slavery and the question of what the war was truly about. Second, I want to explore the complex character of Abraham Lincoln, not as a hero…not as a baboon, but as an ordinary man raised up by God for some divine purpose. Thirdly, I want to look at the end of the war and Sherman’s famous march to the sea. I would like to encourage you to approach each of these subjects with a spirit of humility and objectivity, a desire to learn, and a desire to really know the truth for truth’s sake. You have been forewarned…my views and opinions (as fallible as anyone’s) are precariously, if not stubbornly, against the controversial.

Controversially so.

How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If I could choose a favorite sonnet from the 18th and 19th centuries, this one might be it. I love it. :) I recently read a novel based on (quite accurately) Elizabeth Barrett Browning's life, by one of the best historical novelists, Nancy Moser. She has also written on some of my other favorite historical women - including Jane Austen, Martha Washington, and Nannerl Mozart. But anyway - you should go and read her work. Espescially the one about Elizabeth. Even though its sad. Did you know her father forbade any of his children to marry? Elizabeth was nearly 40 years old when she finally ran away and married her one true love - Robert Browning - also a poet. Its a very romantic story and one taken straight from history. And that's what makes it so fascinating, as the autor Ms. Moser talks about. History often surprises me in that way - I have the ideas for a story, and the more I investigate, I find out what really happened was better than I ever could have made up. Gah I love it when that happens! Which reminds me of the story I am currently writing. Perhaps a snapshot of it will find its way on this blog in the near future. But I only said perhaps ;-)

~"I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears of all my life..."~

On Love

I tend to resort to poetry when I'm feeling melancholy (usually for no particular reason), but today I am suffering writer's block and must be content to read the words instead. Perhaps this poem's most memorable recitation was from the film Sense and Sensibility, where Marianne quotes it to her sister: "Is love a fancy or a feeling...or a Ferras?" ;)

Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.
It is immortal as immaculate Truth,
'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth,
Drops from the stem of life--for it will grow,
In barren regions, where no waters flow,
Nor rays of promise cheats the pensive gloom.
A darkling fire, faint hovering o'er a tomb,
That but itself and darkness nought doth show,
It is my love's being yet it cannot die,
Nor will it change, though all be changed beside;
Though fairest beauty be no longer fair,
Though vows be false, and faith itself deny,
Though sharp enjoyment be a suicide,
And hope a spectre in a ruin bare.

~ Sonnet VII, Hartley Coleridge

Description

This is it.
The massive, oaken double doors are the only things that stand between you and what will be heralded as the most spectacular ball of the season, hosted by the Queen of England herself.
You take a deep breath and, despite the nervous butterflies in your stomach, place your hands on the doors and heave them open.
Your senses begin to tingle at the dizzying spectacle before you. Everything on the other side of the doors is completely forgotten as you are swept into the hectic grandeur of the ballroom. Brightly colored satin skirts whirl across the dance floor, led by gentlemen in impressively large powdered wigs. The tinkling of crystal stemware, bursts of laughter, and the cadenced stomping of feet on the dance floor buzzes in your ears till you hardly know on what to focus. The romping rhythm of the fiddles pulses through you, igniting a rush of adrenaline until you can hardly force your limbs to be still. To the right of you, you observe a beautiful lady, in yellow silk with pink rosettes, offer her delicately gloved hand to a gentleman to be kissed. The gentleman, handsome and distinguished in his silken cravat and mulberry frockcoat, murmurs something as he takes the lady’s hand, inducing a feminine burst coquettish laughter.
Tiring of this scene, you turn to survey the supper. Tables nearly the length of the room bow under the weight of ornate silver platters and roasted fowl. Firelight from the massive hearth on the east end of the room flashes off of the silverware, as guests cut greedily into the bounty. Maidservants in subdued frocks and blindingly white aprons and caps scurry back and forth; making sure no one’s wineglass is ever empty. You notice that they seem to be hovering over one particular guest, and you wish they would move so that you could get a glimpse of this individual, whoever she might be. Expecting a princess or a noblewoman in lustrous satin and over-applied rouge, the creature that invades your vision induces nothing other than shock.
She is slightly humpbacked, undoubtedly dirty, and is shrouded in a dingy, shapeless mud-colored tunic that resembles a gunnysack. It is impossible to tell her age; her vivid blue eyes are strangely full of life and seem to belie the wrinkles spider webbing across her shrunken face. As for her hair, matted and limp with grease, it could be brown, gray, or any other color in between. As she opens her mouth to shovel in a spoonful of mint pudding, you realize she has no teeth.
Lowering your gaze under the table, you confirm that her feet are not only bare, deformed and caked with grime; they are dangling some six inches above the floor.
All the well-to-do folk sitting around her converse with her just as they do with everyone else at the party. A middle-aged duchess in red silk addresses the grubby beggar. The old woman replies with animated expression, blue eyes twinkling, waving her gnarled hands about excitedly. On each of her knobby, arthritis twisted fingers flashes a huge ring, bedecked with jewels of each color of the rainbow. Her coarse, gravelly, over-loud voice rips through the pleasant hum of genteel conversation.
You watch as the gentleman in the mulberry frock-coat approaches the beggar, lowering himself onto one knee and offering a spotlessly-gloved hand. The thick calluses on the woman’s paw catch on the fine cotton material as she accepts the gentleman’s invitation to dance. The pair spins out onto the dance floor, and the grubby brown sack-cloth is soon engulfed by whirling silks and flashing lights.

[Copyright Elisabeth Dawdy, 2009]

Poetry, Anyone?

Let me not to the marriage of true minds,

Admit impediments; Love is not love,

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken,

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sicke's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error, and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Sonnet 116

Abe and Ann

Recently I've been reading some biographies (and a few first person novels) on the life of Mary Todd, Abraham Lincoln's wife. I do not wish to criticize Mary; I did not know her personally; and neither did the people who have researched and written about her. But many sources, more often than not, describe her as high-strung, self-absorbed, and rather obnoxious. As many of you know, I am an extremely loyal fan of Abraham Lincoln - I admire his humility, his down-to-earth-ness, his love for the Savior and his love for our country's roots (namely, the Declaration of Independence.) As a result, Mary Todd has always just rubbed me the wrong way. In my mind, dear Mr. Lincoln deserved much better. This, in turn, has led me to the lost (and often overlooked) young love of Abraham Lincoln and Ann Rutledge.

As far as I have been able to find out, there are no known photographs of Ann herself. But whenever I see her name, I immediatly am brought to mind of an illustration in a children's book I read in 2nd grade - The Life of Abraham Lincoln - in which Ann is sitting outside, wearing a blue dress and bonnet, with curly dark hair and and a grin on her face. This will probably be the way I will always picture Ann Rutledge. Her story, on the other hand, is much more vague. In fact, no one really knows exactly what happened between her and Abraham Lincoln.

As a bare minimum, Wikipedia states that Ann was born on January 17, 1813, near Henderson, Kentucky - the third of ten children born to Mary and James Rutledge. The story is that Rutledge was engaged to John MacNamar, a dubious character who left for New York and promised to marry her upon his return. Rutledge and Lincoln supposedly fell in love while he was gone and she promised to marry him after MacNamar released her. For a time Rutledge and MacNamar exchanged letters, but his letters became more formal and "less ardent in turn" and eventually ceased completely. MacNamar never returned before her death. In 1835, a wave of typhoid hit the town of New Salem, leading to Rutledge's early death. This sad event left Lincoln severely depressed. Historian John Y. Simon reviewed the historiography of the subject and concluded, "Available evidence overwhelmingly indicates that Lincoln so loved Ann that her death plunged him into severe depression."An anonymous poem about suicide published locally exactly three years after her death is widely attributed to Lincoln. After Lincoln's assassination in 1865, his friend and law partner William Herndon first revealed the story of the supposed romance between Rutledge and Lincoln, much to Mary Todd Lincoln's anger and dismay. Abraham Lincoln's surviving son Robert Todd Lincoln was also upset by this claim. Most of Herndon's sources came from interviews with Lincoln's early friends in New Salem and Ann's relatives. The story was later repeated by Herndon in several lectures and books.

The exact nature of the Lincoln-Rutledge relationship has been fiercely debated by historians and non-historians for over a century. Evidence is skeptical at best. As for my own romantic self, I like to beleive that Lincoln really did love Ann, and that at least at some point in his life, no matter how short-lived, that there was a woman who completed him and brought him joy.

If anyone else is remotely interested in this doomed love affair, here are a few books I have put on hold at the library. I haven't read them yet but hopefully they will shed a little more light on the subject:

The Shadows Rise: The Abraham Lincoln and Ann Rutledge legend, by John Evangelist Walsh
The Women in Lincoln's Life, by Donald H. Winkler
The Intimate World of Abraham Lincoln, by A. C. Tripp

i.love.words.

I recently came upon this wonderful book called "Writing Tools: 50 essential strategies for every writer" by Roy Peter Clark. "Writing is a craft you learn," he says. "You need tools, not rules." The fact is, the best writers break the "rules" of writing all the time. Writing tools, on the other hand, "work outside the territory of right and wrong, and inside the land of cause and effect."

For an example, I will share with you one of my favorite new tools:

Tool 20: Choose the number of elements with a purppose.

One, two, three, or four: each sends a secret message to the reader.

>> The Language of One Use One For Power

Jesus wept.

Call me.

War is hell.

I do.

God is love.

Elvis has left the building.

I have a dream.

I have a headache.

Read my lips.

>> The Language of Two Use Two for Comparison, Contrast.

Mom and Dad.

Tom and Jerry.

Ham and eggs.

Abbot and Costello.

Men are from Mars. Women are from Venus.

Dick and Jane.

Rock 'n' roll.

I and thou.

>> The Language of Three Use Three for Completeness, Wholeness, Roundness.

Beginning, middle, and end.

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Moe, Larry, and Curly.

A priest, a minister, and a rabbi.

Executive, legislative, judicial.

The Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria.

>> The Language of Four and More Use Four or More to List, Inventory, Compile, Expand.

Getting the drift? I am espescially enamored of the way the author uses what he is teaching in his actual writing. Some people may not catch it but I thought it was brilliant. I found it interesting how many of these "tools" I already used, but how being more aware of them by giving them a label has actually helped me in the every day writing process.

So. Anyway. If you made it all the way through that without falling asleep I applaud you. There actually are some wacko people out there who find themselves scraping the scraps off the plate, so to speak, when it comes to this kind of thing. Tool 44: Save String. You never know when you're going to use it.

Musings...

[EDIT: It has been brought to my attention by a particular Mr. Smith that I have not been posting his weekly articles. I am repentant and promise to start putting them up again in the near future...so stay tuned!]

Well, I finished my short story. By yesterday, I finally decided that I needed to go ahead and do something that I felt the most comfortable with...the Underground Railroad. It required zero research so I was able to finish it by this morning. Honestly I am not satisfied with it at all...I was kind of rushed and I know I could have done WAY more with it...but oh well. That's what the class is for, no?

I have found that, unfortunatly, the time I write the best is after 10 o'clock p.m. This presents the problem that, if I don't get to bed by 11 or 12, I have to sleep longer in the morning or I will not function properly the rest of the day. And when I sleep longer that pushes the rest of my school time to later in the afternoon, and I begin to feel rushed. Obviously I am in need of some time management skills?? The book by the Mahaney women, Shopping for Time, has been sitting on our bookshelf for quite some time. Maybe its time I took it off...;)

Anyway! Speaking of school I have quite a bit on my reading list. Most of it voluntary. :) Firstly, and so far my favorite, I have been going through the letters of John and Abigail Adams. The more I read their words the more I am amazed at what a strong woman Abigil was, and what a wise husband she had! God certainly knew what he was doing when he chose these people to help shape our nation.

Now I am going to have to share with you the first letter, while they were still courting. It is the first existing letter that we know of, from John Adams to a certain Miss Abigail Smith, or, "Miss Adorable":

Miss Adorable, Octr 4th. 1762

By the same Token that the Bearer hereof satt up with you last night I hereby order you to give him, as many Kisses, and as many Hours of your Company after 9 OClock as he shall please to Demand and charge them to my Account: This Order, or Requisition call it which you will is in Consideration of a similar order Upon Aurelia for he like favour, and I presume I have good Right to draw upon you for the Kisses as I have given two or three Million at least, when one has been recd, and of Consequence the Account between us iis immensely in favour of yours

John Adams

Anyway, I thought that was so cute and there are many other letters of more...serious buisness. :) Adios amigos!

So!

Finally finished Composition 3! Yes! Now I can move on to what I've been looking forward to since last year...my short story work-shop! I am so psyched! (Is that how you spell that?) My weekly lessons will be covering character development, conflict summaries, outlining plots, crafting dialogue, etc. All of this, of course, is applicable to more than just short stories too. So excited!!

My first assignment is to...surprise...write a short story. :) Basically they are just going to see what I've got, and then move on from there. I will more than likely get the opportunity to write more than one story, of course, but right now I am brainstorming for my first one. I wanted to do a fantasy-type thing, but those get to be too complicated for something restricted to 5 (give or take) pages. So my only other option (of course ;)) is to do a historical fiction. That is all I have established thus far. I am going to have to pick a time period, narrow it down, and personalize it. =O So I need some ideas! I either want to do...

1. Elizabethan England...you know...God save the queen and whatnot...

2. The American Revolution, preferably something to do with Abigail Adams

3. The Underground Railroad, either Harriet Tubman or something to do with John Brown?

If you have any suggestions please comment! All I need is the teeny-tiniest nudge in the right direction and I will be good to go!

~ Elisabeth

P.S. I am also trying to come up with a pen-name, like people would do for newspapers in Colonial times. Would love ideas there, too. :)

Martha Custis Kennon

So...as many of you know I am writing a "book" centered around the family of Robert E. Lee. Well, I'd had my plot taken care of, and most of my characters, except for the most important one: the protagonist. I had to find someone who lived within a near enough proximity to the Lees to have a close relationship with them. She would have to be a young woman between the ages of 15 and 20. And she would have to be a relative of Mary Anna Lee, who was of the family of Martha Washington.

I spent hours in the library and hours online, deciphering geneologies and family trees, before I discovered Martha Custis Kennon.

Martha, or "Patsy", was born in 1843, the great-great-granddaughter of Martha Washington through her son, Jackie Custis. Patsy's mother, Brittania Peter, married BeverlyKennon in1842. She was 27 and he was 50. Beverly died a year after Patsy's birth, leaving his wife and daughter alone in their giant mansion, Tudor Place, in Georgetown, Washington DC.

I knew I'd found my protagonist. Teenaged descendant of Martha Washington, cousin to the Lees, offspring of an arranged marriage cut short, daughter of a staunchly Virginain woman living in the heart of the Union capitol. An only child growing up in a huge old house that once entertained celebrities such as John and Abigail Adams, Marquis de Lafayette, Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, and John C. Calhoun. Can't you just picture it? I could. It was not exactly the recipe for a normal and carefree childhood.

It was perfect.

And so I got carried away with all the what-must-it-have-been-likes? and my protagonist was born. Ahhh! It's all so exciting and perfect!!

Okay anyway. Obviously, the portrait is of Patsy Kennon around the time of her wedding in 1867. (I think its a rather pretty portrait - I love the fact that her hair looks like it might have been red.) Her husband (whose name will remain unrevealed as a plot-spoiler) was three years her senior - a young doctor in charge of a smallpox hospital during the war.

So the whole point of this post is basically I LOVE HISTORY. History is nothing but the stories of ordinary people who found themselves in un-ordinary times. This is the reason I love historical fiction and have such a passion about writing it. Because I want people to really see this, that history is so much more than dead names and dates! History is simply this - God's hand at work in the lives of his people throughout the generations. I get chills just thinking about it!

Sorry you all probably think I'm a pathetic maniac by now. That's okay. We're all different, no? :) Hats off to you if you've made it through my rambling thoughts on history once again!

"Careful, Or I'll Put You In My Novel"

Edit: [yes I know my Christmas template didn't last long. we couldn't seem to get along. :( And also, check out the bottom of my page...]

If you've ever read a copyright page (and I am not saying most normal people do) you will have come across the line "any resemblance to persons living or dead unintentional." I used to think, how stupid is that? I mean, who is going to pick up a book and imagine that the author has stolen "them", as a person, for one of their characters?


Ridiculous? Maybe not. As I progress in the novel I'm writing, I've begun to realize my characters don't always behave. What I mean to say is, they don't seem to stick to who I originally imaged them. Some of the more placid ones stick to the path I've already paved for them, but many more seem to run off and take on characteristics that I certainly never planned. The more I write, the more I begin to realize, maybe my characters aren't quite as "fictional" as I thought. In fact, some particular ones seem to bear uncanny resemblances to some key people in my life. Including - uh-oh - me!


I wonder if anyone who's ever written runs into this problem? Or if it's only me. Is it better to control characters? Or to allow them to evolve a little? Maybe someday I'll have it all figured out. But for now I guess I'll just let my characters run things and see where they take me...


Ahem. Thank you for bearing with me and my seemingly-random ramblings. Sometimes I'm not really sure where they come from. All I know is I have to get it out somewhere before I go crazy.


And yes. If you are reading this, you are most likely someone, somewhere in my novel. ;)