Sylvain Reynard

NY Times Best-Selling Author

Literature – “Beowulf”

Dear Everyone,


There is a scene in “Gabriel’s Inferno” in which Professor Emerson accompanies two young women (one of whom is his sister) to a club in Toronto. As their host, he realizes that he will not be able to indulge himself in his usual sins, at least for an evening. Instead of the hunter, he becomes the protector. Ever the professor of literature, he muses on the fact that he will have to play the part of Beowulf, prepared to slay Grendel and his relatives if they threaten his precious charges.


It’s surprising, perhaps, that someone who is convinced he is irredeemably evil views himself as a Beowulf rather than a Grendel, at least in this scene.

(Whether he is or not is for the readers to judge for themselves.)


Beowulf is the name of a hero and also of an Old English epic poem that dates from around 800 AD. Although the poem is written in Old English, it isn’t set in Britain nor is it about Angles or Saxons. The poem is Scandinavian, combining mythical elements with historical persons, along with references to Christianity. For example, the monster Grendel is described as a descendant of Cain, son of Adam, who slew his brother Abel.


Cain’s story – and what God says and does to him – is interesting in itself. You can read it here from Genesis 4 of the Hebrew Bible.


Here is how Grendel is described in Beowulf:


Grendel this monster grim was called,

march-riever mighty, in moorland living,

in fen and fastness; fief of the giants

the hapless wight a while had kept

since the Creator his exile doomed.

On kin of Cain was the killing avenged

by sovran God for slaughtered Abel.

Ill fared his feud, and far was he driven,

for the slaughter’s sake, from sight of men.

Of Cain awoke all that woful breed,

Etins and elves and evil-spirits,

as well as the giants that warred with God

weary while: but their wage was paid them!


Notice that the offspring of Cain (who was a human being) include elves, evil spirits, and Etins, which are a kind of giant.


In the poem, Grendel threatens the warriors of Hrothgar, King of the Danes. None of Hrothgar’s men seem to be able to kill the monster, so Beowulf, who is a Geat, rises to the challenge. His act is both courageous and honourable as he is repaying a service to Hrothgar, who aided his father.


Grendel does not fare very well in his confrontation with Beowulf. There’s also an interesting bit about Beowulf’s magical sword (and it’s lack of magical effect). Beowulf also battles Grendel’s mother, who takes up her son’s revenge. (This narrative twist provides all kinds of fodder for discussion, Freudian and otherwise.) The third part of the poem describes Beowulf’s battle with a dragon.


Interestingly enough, J.R.R. Tolkien had a lively interest in Beowulf. He wrote at least two essays on the subject, which you can find included in this volume. You can also find a short piece comparing Tolkien’s characters with Beowulf here and here. (Is an Ent an Etin?)


To read the full text of Beowulf, click here.


All the best and thanks for reading,

SR

www.sylvainreynard.com

PS. If you’re looking for a place to discuss “Gabriel’s Inferno,” you can always do so on Goodreads or on Facebook or Twitter. Links to reviews of the novel have been posted on my website.


ETA: I was contacted by a very kind reader who is translating Beowulf into modern English. Like me, he admires Seamus Heaney’s translation. You can follow Gareth Jones’ translation and commentary here.

Literature – “The Lord of the Rings”

Dear Everyone,
Friendship is one of the relationships that figures prominently in “Gabriel’s Inferno.” Julia and Rachel are friends, Paul and Julia are friends, Professor Emerson appears to be friends with Katherine Picton, the villains of the story (seen and unseen) used to be friends with some of the other characters …

Friendship is a kind of love, but it’s a love that is asexual and chaste. Friendship reminds us that human beings can love each other deeply without that love being sexual or romantic.

In my story, Julia muses about what she is willing to do for the man who stole her heart when she was young. An analogy is drawn in her mind to the friendship between Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien’s trilogy The Lord of the Rings.

If you’re searching western literature for examples of friendship, there are many examples to choose from. But there’s something about the friendship between Sam and Frodo that typifies what a great friendship can be. While Frodo is usually considered to be the hero of the trilogy, it is Sam who is the shining example of a good friend. He is loyal and constant. He shows tremendous fortitude and courage. His character qualities are tested and tried over and over again, but Sam’s commitment to his friend persists, despite conflict and fatigue and the inevitable personality changes that Frodo experiences as the ring-bearer. On several occasions, Sam could have abandoned his friend to finish the quest alone. But he didn’t.
There are many reasons to read Tolkien’s Rings trilogy. One of them should be because it provides a thought-provoking presentation of true friendship. Another would be because it unashamedly presents goodness and evil in stark terms. Few novels in the twenty-first century do that. Nevertheless, the trilogy also presents the way good creatures can be seduced and lured into evil.
(It’s possible that there are a hobbit and elf or two in my story. See if you can pick them out)
As I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been honoured to be nominated on Goodreads list of Best Break Out Authors Novels. If you have a moment, you can vote for your favourites here.
All the best and thanks for reading,
SR.
PS. If you see a review of my work somewhere and you’d like to tell me about it, please email me here. Thank you. I should also mention that I endeavour to reply to every email, although sometimes it takes me a few days.

Literature – “The Book of Common Prayer”

Dear Everyone,


Sex and love form important themes in my novel, “Gabriel’s Inferno.” The theme is developed through dialogue, events, the lives of the characters and even through a university lecture or two. My characters and the characters in the various pieces of literature mentioned in the story take different views on these topics.

Sometimes sex and love are separate considerations, sometimes they are unified. Sometimes sex is viewed as a gift to give someone else, sometimes it’s viewed as something taken from another person for one’s own benefit and pleasure. Sometimes sex is a way of exerting power or control over another person, sometimes it’s a way of asserting vulnerability and connectedness. Without offering spoilers, I’ll simply point out that the various voices in the novel express what I take to to be both typical and atypical approaches to the vexed questions of sex and love.

(Parenthetically it should be noted that although sex is a theme of my story, it isn’t the entire story. Readers have had varying reactions to that fact!)
Those familiar with Anglicanism and Thomas Cranmer’s “Book of Common Prayer,” (BCP) are no doubt familiar with the wedding vows used in Anglican weddings. Those vows have changed, as has the BCP. Nevertheless, the old words include an insight that I think provides an interesting way of viewing sex. This insight is included in “Gabriel’s Inferno” as part of a discussion between two of the characters.

Here is the part of the marriage vows from the 1662 version of the BCP,
“Then shall they again loose their hands; and the Man shall give unto the Woman a Ring, laying the same upon the book with the accustomed duty to the Priest and Clerk. And the Priest, taking the Ring, shall deliver it unto the Man, to put it upon the fourth finger of the Woman’s left hand. And the Man holding the Ring there, and taught by the Priest, shall say,
WITH this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Although the language has changed in recent versions of the BCP, such that “with my body I thee worship” is no longer a vow made from husband to wife, some Anglican couples (and priests) include the language anyway.

But what does it mean for the husband to vow to worship his wife with his body?

An early commentary by Dr. Anthony Sparrow argues that there are two meanings to this phrase. First, that the husband is indicating that the wife will be his legal wife and not his mistress or concubine. Thus, she will be given the benefits of his property and her offspring will be his legitimate children. Second, the idea of “worship” in this context is that of “honour.” The husband vows to honour his wife.

I’m sure Sparrow’s commentary has some merit. But the plain meaning of the text seems to indicate something else, as Bishop Paul Marshall argues. To use one’s body to worship another in the context of marriage, seems to refer to sex. And not simply “having sex,” but “making love.” The idea here is that through physical intimacy, the husband affirms his love and respect (and honour) for his wife. He gives to her; he doesn’t take from her. Viewing sex as an act of worship of another person takes the self-centredness out of it. Sex becomes something other than personal physical gratification (although physical pleasure is important); it becomes other-centred. Notice that the vow was made from husband to wife and not the reverse.

Why?

But there is something else behind these words that is not mentioned by either Sparrow or Marshall, and that is the connection between sex and the divine. In some religious traditions, sex is a means of worshipping a deity. In Greek and Roman times, for example, one could engage in sexual acts with temple prostitutes as a means of worshipping a particular god or goddess. But I’m not talking about that.

I’m referring to the the way in which sex transports a human being into something overwhelming and ecstatic and I’m suggesting that this transport offers a glimpse of the divine. It’s possible that this idea is captured by Cranmer’s vow. The act of worshipping another with one’s body, such that one is giving and not taking, such that one is other-centred, provides a context in which one can experience what it would be like to be loved completely and unreservedly. What it would be like to experience the satisfaction of all one’s deepest longings. What it would be like to have pleasure, bliss and happiness not just for an instant, but for eternity. In Cranmer’s context (as in Dante’s), this eternity would be had in the presence of God. Perhaps sex (when done in a worshipful way) is a glimpse, a shadow of what it would be to bask in the glory of God in Paradise, like Dante and Beatrice. As Dante expresses in his Paradiso, the universe is held together by love…

I know many of you have been wondering about the sequel to “Gabriel’s Inferno.” The sequel is in progress, but I don’t have a release date yet. When the release date is set by the publisher, we’ll be able to announce it here, on Twitter and on Facebook. Thank you for your continued support. It’s much appreciated.

All the best and thanks for reading,
SR


(For an interesting piece on Dante’s Paradiso click here.)

Literature – Thomas Hardy

Dear Everyone,

I stepped on Thomas Hardy (1840-1928). 

It wasn’t entirely accidental, I’ll admit. Nevertheless, I apologized profusely. In my defense, poet’s corner of Westminster Abbey was crowded and I was presented with the dilemma of either stepping on Thomas Hardy or Charles Dickens. So really, I did what anyone would do when faced with such a choice – I elected not to bowl over the pregnant woman on my right in order to skirt both graves and I chose to step on the writer whose work I enjoy least.

Hence, I stepped on Thomas Hardy. (This was some time ago. Alas, I can still hear him grumbling.)

In my novel, “Gabriel’s Inferno,” literature plays an important role in the structure of the narrative. Broadly speaking, the relationship between the male and female leads is modelled on the relationship between Dante and Beatrice. But there are other lesser literary references in the narrative, sometimes only a quip or two, in which there is a bit of foreshadowing or an analogy.

In one such scene, Rachel Clark and her friend Julia are engaged in a discussion about the sad times facing Rachel’s family. By way of comparison, she mentions a few famous writers, and ends her remarks by hoping that her life does not follow the lives of Thomas Hardy’s characters. She then offers a brief expletive, telling the reader exactly what she thinks of him.

Lest anyone misunderstand Rachel’s remarks or my quick-stepping indifference in the Abbey, I should state that I don’t dislike Thomas Hardy. I admire his writing greatly and unreservedly recommend his works. (Start with The Mayor of Casterbridge, then work up to Tess of the d’Urbervilles, then if you’re really brave and have a lot of Scotch on hand, read Jude the Obscure.)

Although I admire Hardy’s writing, I don’t enjoy his stories. They’re disturbingly haunting, though, and for that reason they tend to stay with you while their lesser counterparts have long since fled your memory. They also provide rich fodder for reading groups and dinner parties.

Hardy appears to construct his novels in such a way that a character’s missteps condemn him or her for the rest of his life, tainting any possibility of future happiness. Women tend not to fare very well in his stories; children do worse. Whether this was simply typical of the historical period in which he was writing or not, one can certainly contrast his stories with those of his older contemporaries, such as Dickens or Elizabeth Gaskell, in order to find (occasionally) more hopeful visions.

Once again, I won’t offer spoilers from “Gabriel’s Inferno,” but I will say that I believe in both hope and redemption and these elements are intrinsic to the story.

I will also point out that one can enjoy the novel without being familiar with the literary references. Nevertheless, if one is looking for clues as to the successive mysteries, the artistic elements are the first place one should look.

All the best everyone and thanks for reading,
SR

PS. I’ve been gratified to learn of a number of different book clubs that are reading “Gabriel’s Inferno.” Please contact me to let me know of others. I’m hoping to be able to do something special for each club.

Literature – “The Hobbit”

Dear Everyone,


As I mentioned last post , I believe that adults can enjoy children’s literature as much as children. Along those lines, I’ve included references to at least two children’s books in my novel, Gabriel’s Inferno.

One of my favourite authors is J.R.R. Tolkien. He was a friend and colleague of C.S. Lewis and a member of the Inklings. The Inklings used to meet for drinks and discussions at The Eagle and Child pub in Oxford, which is affectionately called The Bird and Baby by locals. If you’re ever in Oxford, order your pint and go straight to the back room. If you close your eyes while you sample your beer, you’ll feel the ghosts of the Inklings poking you in the shoulder. You might even hear them whispering. (I’ll save what they said to me for another post.)

In Gabriel’s Inferno, there is a scene in which the heroine, Julia Mitchell, refers to another character as Gollum. In Julia’s mind, she is caught in a struggle with Gollum for the Precious. Both references are taken from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. This work, perhaps more so than The Lord of the Rings trilogy, is a children’s book.
For my purposes, there are at least two interesting things about the character of Gollum. First, he begins his life as something like a Hobbit. By the time we are introduced to him in the story, he’s a monster. Tolkien has some interesting ideas about the effects of evil on a creature’s character and physical appearance as evidenced by Gollum’s history. Second, Gollum has an inordinate attachment to the Ring, which he calls his Precious. The passages in which Tolkien gives the reader access to Gollum’s internal musings are truly frightening.

In a few pages, Tolkien contributes a fascinating account of single-minded obsession and it’s damaging effects. There are others in literature, such as the the shades that inhabit Dante’s Inferno, but Tolkien’s contribution is probably my favourite and certainly one of the clearest. (Parenthetically, it must be noted that there is a bit of sarcasm attached to my usage of these references in Gabriel’s Inferno. Readers will need to decide for themselves how precious The Precious actually is.)

All the best and thanks for reading,
SR

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About The Author

fluer-de-lisI am honoured to have had all three of my novels appear on the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists. I was a Semifinalist for Best Author in the 2011 and 2012 Goodreads Choice Awards. {More About Sylvain}

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