A Light So Lovely: Book Review

Reviewed by Brenda S. Cox

“We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”—Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water

I recently read A Light So Lovely: The Spiritual Legacy of Madeleine L’Engle, Author of A Wrinkle in Time, by Sarah Arthur. This book was a delight, full of light and loveliness.

I love the quote above. We all need to see and hear the truth lived out, rather than arguments and attacks on what we believe. I so often fall short of showing people that lovely light of Christ. Madeleine L’Engle (1918-2007) does a wonderful job in her novels, though, of showing that beauty. 

L’Engle and L. M. Montgomery (author of Anne of Green Gables)

A while back I posted on some of my favorite authors, besides Jane Austen, of course, and L’Engle topped the list. I find her books not only beautiful, but also thought-provoking and deep. I learned from A Light So Lovely that L’Engle also loved the second author on my list, L. M. Montgomery:

“Inspired by Emily in L. M. Montgomery’s Emily of New Moon (one of her all-time favorite books), she wrote in her journal at age fifteen, ‘I, Madeleine L’Engle Camp, do solemnly vow this day that I will climb the alpine path and write my name on the scroll of fame.’” (p. 28)

Vow fulfilled. L’Engle’s official website shows 47 books she wrote, including books for adults, young adults, and children; fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. Most are still in print (and ebooks), eighteen years after her death.

Madeleine, Faith, and Imagination

A Light So Lovely, and other books I’ve read about L’Engle, showed how Madeleine encouraged and blessed many people in their lives and their faith. Her readers talk about how she kept them from giving up on the church, expanded their view of God, made their faith “bigger.”

Her works, of course, were sometimes controversial, and even seriously attacked by Christians. Madeleine responded:

“There is a new and troublesome fear of the imagination—though without it, how can anyone believe in the Incarnation, the Power that created all of the galaxies willingly limiting itself to be one of us for love of us!” (p. 51-2)

The author explains how God speaks to us through stories (including the many stories and parables in the Bible), adding:

“Truth sneaks in through the back door of the imagination, while our defenses are down, when it has a greater chance of changing us from the inside out. Let those who have ears, hear.” (p. 71)

This is a basis for the Christianity & Literature study group I participate in; we are hearing God’s story in all kinds of literature. And L’Engle’s stories have always spoken to me in that way. Jane Austen’s novels similarly give us pictures of light and darkness, helping us want to choose the light.

L’Engle and C.S. Lewis (author of the Narnia Chronicles) and Science

In a connection to another author I love, this book presents L’Engle as “the C.S. Lewis for a new generation.” While C.S. Lewis connected Christian faith to truths found in Medieval ideas and myths (though he also wrote a sci-fi Space Trilogy), L’Engle connected faith with brand-new scientific ideas (though she also used some ancient ideas). As Sarah Arthur says, Madeleine believed, and showed in her books, that:

“Each new discovery doesn’t diminish our faith; it increases our sense of awe that this same God, whose works are revealed to be more amazing by the day, loves us enough to become one of us and knows each of us by name.” (p. 58)

Madeleine considered Einstein to be a theologian, saying:

“Einstein wrote that anyone who is not lost in rapturous awe and amazement at the power and glory of the mind behind the universe is as good as a burned-out candle” (p. 100-101).

Icons and Idols

As a writer, I love to get inspiration from other writers. L’Engle’s books Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art and The Rock That Is Higher: Story as Truth have often inspired me.  L’Engle considered writing “a God-given vocation that deserved the same attentiveness as prayer—indeed, . . . writing itself can be a form of worship that brings us into the presence of God” (p. 131).

In many of her books, L’Engle explains the difference between idols—things we worship instead of God—and icons, things that help us better focus on God. An icon is “not an object to adore or shun but, rather, a window—rippled with imperfections, at times distorting our vision, but through which God’s light can shine nonetheless” (p. 168).

This book treats Madeleine herself as an icon, not an idol. It shows her weaknesses as well as her strengths. The opposition she faced is discussed with compassion. Some of her “nonfiction” includes stories which her family says were not true—stories that she insisted were true to life, but perhaps not literally true. She explained,

“We do live, all of us, on many different levels, and for most artists the world of imagination is more real than the world of the kitchen sink.” And, about a story whose factual basis was questioned, “the emotional premise of the sketch, the feeling of being a stranger and sojourner—all of this is true. This is the way it is.”—L’Engle, Circle of Quiet, 89, 90

I loved this book, which is full of wonderful quotes. I will finish with just two more:

“For Madeleine, the great challenge of the life of faith was letting go of anger and fear and instead embracing joy—indeed, practicing joy as a spiritual discipline” (pp. 199-200).

L’Engle herself said:

“I want people to understand that what makes life wonderful and terrible and bearable is God’s grace and love and laughter” (p. 202).

Amen. When I finished this book, I pulled out one of my many favorite L’Engle novels, A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I am now reading it to my teenage granddaughter. That book centers around a rune of St. Patrick. Charles Wallace travels back in time, changing history, bringing “grace and love and laughter” to the world through suffering and sacrifice. The darkness is not minimized, but the light defeats the darkness, as in so many of L’Engle’s books.

I highly recommend A Light So Lovely, along with Madeleine L’Engle’s own books.

I don’t expect to agree with everything in any book I read, and I hope you don’t either. We can all learn from each other, without having to adopt all of each other’s ideas. Occasionally in L’Engle’s books there are ideas that make me uncomfortable. But even that discomfort can help me think more deeply and grow in new ways. What is a book you read recently that made you uncomfortable and challenged you to think more deeply?