C.S. Lewis said of him, "I have never concealed the fact that I regarded him as my master." He is George MacDonald, yes, the man in the portrait with the beard. "George MacDonald writes of homely things and simple people who saw, in the stuff of a shepherd's cottage or a fisherman's arduous work on the cold sea, the love of God," writes Elisabeth Elliot. You may ask, "C.S. Lewis spoke of him?" Yes, and he wrote sermons, poems, thirty novels, works of fantasy, children's books... say what? Are you asking why you have never heard of man so accomplished? Well, wipe off that puzzled look on your face as I explain why you've never heard of the man who was an essayist, theologian, preacher, scientist, actor, teacher... no, mother! That's not a machine gun! That's me typing! And yes, as an amateur writer, I am trying to create the illusion of suspense. Well, now is the time to open your sagging eyelids. Simply this, many of his books lost popularity in the Victorian Age and were not reprinted until the 1980s.
Thanks to a man by the name of Micheal R. Phillips, his books were condensed and revised so that most of us, who are so far removed from our Scottish ancestors, can read it. Although, the accent is still very thick. I once saw a sample of what his works looked like before revision and I wish I could place it on here but I can't seem to find it. I've already searched through nines books and haven't the patience to search through ten more. I can confidently state, though, that I could not read a single word of it. It looked German, which is not surprising since the Scottish dialect has many German roots! Oi! Let me give you an excerpt from "The Fisherman's Lady" to ease your nerves before you run away from the computer screaming:
"Duncan [a blind 'asthmatic old piper' who never left his house without the highland dress and a dirk at his side] said, 'Give me my pipes, my poy,' and reached out his hands as eager to clutch the instrument as the miser is to finger his gold. 'Listen to me as I play, and you'll soon pe able to play too, dance and coronach with ta pest piper petwen Cape Wrath and the Mull o' Cantyre."
His children's books have amazing depth and scope. "The Princess and the Goblins" (yes, that is one of his works but I assure you the book surpasses the movie the way a Ford surpasses a Chevy) has a sequel called "The Princess and Curdie". I opened the book and read the first few pages. I was amazed that MacDonald would expect a child to understand such ideas! For instance, Curdie, the hero of "The Princess and the Goblins" had ceased being good because he had ceased trying to become better. That hit home with me! And I'm not exactly a "small" child.
Drum roll, please. Hurry, raise the curtains! No! The other ones! Ladies and germs, may I proudly introduce to tonight's show... Steenie the idiot! Now some of you I'm sure are saying, "Now that's not polite." Let me enlighten you. Steenie, the idiot, was an idiot to mankind but one of God's most thoughtful creatures. I'm sorry to inform you that he is just a character in "The Peasant Girl's Dream"(originally called Heather and Snow). Just for clarification, "The Fisherman's Lady" and "The Peasant Girl's Dream" are not girly books. At least, that is the opinion of person whose love of adventure comes before her love of romance.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes... Steenie. Steenie say hello to everyone. No, Steenie come back! Ah, never mind. He and his collie dog have gone out to look for the bonny man. The bonny man, although it should be capitalized. Come again? Oh, you've never met the Bonny Man, the Bonny Man who lives in Drury Lane? Well, I hope to kiss a pig you have. The Bonny Man is Jesus. Allow me to let you meet the Steenie, who waited for the Bonny Man to visit him, through his own words, and perhaps a few words of others:
[Steenie was called an idiot by the town folk.]
"Eh, na! You needna do that, Father. It's nearhand yer bedtime. I'll jist be aboot in the night--maybe a stane's throw frae the door, maybe the other side o' the Horn. Here or there I'm never far frae ye. I sometimes think I'm jist like one o' them that ye call dead: I'm no away, I'm only dead...
[Steenie stays outside at night to talk to God. With the help of his family, he built his own house on a hill.]
"Bonny man, I ken[know] ye weel: there's naebody in heaven or earth that's like ye. Ye ken yersel' I would jist die for ye if ye wanted it o' me, but I'm hopin' that ye winna want it 'o me, I'm that awful coowardly. Oh, take the fear oot o' my heart an' make me ready to do what ye want o' me, weighty feet and all[Steenie believed that if it weren't for his "weighty feet" he might be able to soar up to heaven and to the Bonny man]. And, eh, bonny man, willna ye come doon sometime an' walk the hill here so that I may see ye? Eh, if ye was but once to look in at the door o' this hoose o' mine that ye hae given me! If ye were to look in the door an' cry Steenie! soon would ye see whether or no I was in the hoose. I thank ye for this hoose. I'm goin' to hae a rich an' happy time on this hill! Eh, bonnie man, gie a look in the face o' my father an' mither in their bed ower at the Knowe, an' I pray ye see that Kirsty's gettin' a fine sleep, for she has a heap o' trouble wi' me. She's so clever--as ye ken, for ye made her! An' look ower this bit hoose that I call mine an' that they helped me build, even though it's jist a wee lean-to--jist as all the hooses are jist bairn's[child's] hooses built by themsel's aboo the big floor o' yer kitchen an' in the nooks 'o the same--wi' yer own truffs an' stanes an' divots."
[Steenie stops praying and a knock is heard at the door. It is his sister, Kirsty, who had overheard him. He rushes to the door, thinking it's the Bonny man.]
.
Oh! Imagine poor Steenie's disappointment! Where's a tissue... go away, dog! That's not your bugle call!
Perhaps you'd like to meet one of MacDonald's sane characters. His name is Malcolm McPhail. Aye, a poor fisher lad 'e was! With a life full of adventure, especially when he found out about his ancestry. He was "rather tall and large-limbed... His face was more that handsome--with large features, not finely cut, and a look of mingled nobility and ingenuousness, amounting to simplicity or even innocence." As a boy of fourteen, he went night fishing. When asked why he did not fear drowning he replied that he need not fear death. The Lord would take him when the time was right.
I wish I could write more about one of my favorite authors, but alas, I have things to do. No, I'm not wrapping up because I heard you yawning. I hope that if you suffered through this "essay" that you slightly enjoyed it or at least can speak Scotch with the best of 'em. Thank the holy porcupine that if you ever decide read a MacDonald novel you will find a glossary at the front defining those harder to understand words. All you need is an imagination, a comfy chair, a cup o' tea, and a sheep dog by the fire. As Phillips said, "An' noo I wiss ye a' a guid readin'!"
Fun Fact: Lewis Carroll was friends with MacDonald. He read "Alice in Wonderland" to MacDonald's children who urged him to publish the book.
