“We may, however, shut ourselves off from this experience with otherness by passing hasty or uninformed moral judgments on a text.”

The reader’s dilemma: How can I tell if I’m passing hasty or uninformed moral judgments? Because you say so? Anyway, if they’re moral judgments, how can they be hasty or uninformed?

“In this light, we must, while beginning where we are, push ourselves and our fellow saints to adhere to Mormonism’s true theological standard, a dynamic system that pushes us against our psychological, spiritual, intellectual, even our physical boundaries…”

This is all right for a personal vision of how to leap the divide, but why must we “push … our fellow saints to adhere to Mormonism’s true theological standard …”? Is this Tyler’s tragic tell? ;)

“The Church’s bureaucratic organization thrives by maintaining a certain degree of contentment, by reinforcing the status quo…”

I know it’s of secondary importance, but I’m not sure what you mean by this. My experience with Church infrastructure is that it works best when it too is dynamic. Perhaps you can help me understand you here.

“…the process of eternal progress embodied by Mormon theology is one of continual subversion, reevaluation, and reconstruction of the central system motivating that organization’s growth: the eternal self. In this light, we must, while beginning where we are, push ourselves and our fellow saints to adhere to Mormonism’s true theological standard, a dynamic system that pushes us against our psychological, spiritual, intellectual, even our physical boundaries; that pushes us against the boundaries of the universe and our understanding of the universe as God deems to make us as he is—an exalted being that will progress and learn, pressing at the boundaries of an ever-increasing knowledge for the eternities.”

In arguing for education through the study of great books, Robert M. Hutchins says “There is a sense in which every great book is always over the head of the reader; he can never fully comprehend it… That is why these books are great teachers; they demand the attention of the reader and keep his intelligence on the stretch” (The Great Conversation, p. 47).

In the light of these two comments, I am inclined to agree with Kent’s comments on his new post. Spreading familiarity with the best of Mormon (and all) literature is the first step.

“I believe that this expansive view of Mormonism and its eternal implications is one thing we must read within and against which we might fruitfully measure our artistic/intellectual endeavors, especially since art can provide such a profound and redemptive conduit to self-understanding, self-expression, self-expansion, and personal/communal healing.”

This is the concept I was feebly getting at with my comment on the last post about all truth being Mormon truth. I hope Pratt and I (and anyone else) can renew that conversation, if there’s more to discuss.

In The Path of Dreams, I incorporate what might be called “temple culture” (though frustratingly trimmed of any explicit references that could really illuminate that culture for non-Mormons, but which Mormons would consider heretical), polygamy, conservative mores, and Utah history into the plot.

But you can push the polygamy/Utah history/conservative mores thing only so far. In Angel Falling Softly, the works vs. grace debate is not unique to Mormonism, and most of the “peculiarities” arise out of situational and social, not religious, culture of a type that could be found in, say, Lake Wobegon.

If the goal is to “blend in” with mainstream Christianity, Mormonism loses the ability to contribute a unique perspective and becomes culturally irrelevant. As with Vanilla Sky, why remake the original if the remake adds nothing meaningful, consequential or new, except a bigger budget and a famous actor?

Is the story simply exploiting quirks in the culture to set itself apart, or is it also saying something important about the culture? Or rather, is there a culture there substantial enough to have important things said about it? As things stand right now, I’m pessimistic.

My alternate-universe solution? For starters, the temple marriage ceremony would become “semi-public”–to the extent that non-Mormons would be invited, and pictures of a Mormon wedding would finally become distinguishable from those of any generic Christian ceremony.

Second, the church would forcefully declare itself to NOT be a Nicene sect, and to be thoroughly uninterested in the theological approval of the Nicene community, thus ending that debate forever, and creating a huge, unavoidable and unbridgeable rift in its place.

Of course, I’m speaking from authorial self-interest. Conflict, not uniformity, makes for good fiction and interesting culture. Literarily, I want to pick fights, not play well with others.

Your comment caused me to rethink my usage of “essence” to describe the writer’s responsibility to capture the truth of human experience. Rereading what I originally wrote, I’ve emended it to read “the particularities of human experience” because, as you remind me, perhaps Mormonism has no essence (I’m still mulling this over and may have more to say in a future comment); perhaps it only has a story. And as a writer captures the particularities of the human story, of their attempts to “take up,” as Jorgensen says, Christ’s calls to action, the result takes on a redemptive, expansive power not possible when we deal in generalities.

Ironically, there are rich possibilities in a polygamous setting.

Uh, yeah. Working on that, only, you know, sick and twisted.

My favorite television program right now is the NHK serial drama, Dan Dan. It’s an extended (to cover a season’s worth of plot) Japanese version of The Parent Trap, about twins separated at birth who discover each other on their eighteenth birthday.

Watching Dan Dan gets me thinking about how culture can accentuate “the same only different.” I think a major selling point of anime is experiencing familiar stories couched in an unfamiliar setting that brings out unexpected, undiscovered aspects of the narrative.

The “big C” culture aspects in Dan Dan are obvious. One sister (Nozomi) is a maiko (apprentice geisha), living in Kyoto’s Gion district. The dialect spoken by the Gion geisha is such that when playing Nozomi, Megumi has to stick to “Yes,” “No,” and “Thank you” to avoid giving herself away.

Japanese concepts of family duty and honor are leveraged to an extent that would surprise American viewers. For example, when Japanese apologize for really screwing up, they will still kowtow. The visceral impact of this gesture cannot be underestimated.

Legal differences. When Megumi first suspects that her mother might be her stepmother, she only has to pay a small fee and get a copy of her koseki birth certificate (which records maternity and paternity) at the local government office. Plot developments delayed in the American version are brought to the fore.

Comparing the 1998 Disney version (which I quite like) with Dan Dan reminds me of the differences between The Seven Samurai and The Magnificent Seven. The latter is not just a “remake,” but an entire reimagining within the mythos of the American West.

Ditto Yojimbo and A Fistful of Dollars. But the Bruce Willis remake of the latter (Last Man Standing) is little more than a pale copy with the actors and sets changed.

The point I’m getting at is summed up in a Bruce Jorgensen quote William links to: “Maybe Mormonism itself has no ‘essence’ but only a story.” The thing is, I’m hard pressed to imagine how a Mormon context would introduce that much of a “difference” here.

Ironically, there are rich possibilities in a polygamous setting. But other than digging into esoteric theology, I’m not sure what dramatic “essence” a Mormon setting would offer. Is Big Love the only uniquely “Mormon” story that Mormons can tell to non-Mormons?

Thanks for dropping by. But your comment is a little insulting. Why should we engage with your posts if you don’t want engage with ours?

I frown upon drive by linkage. I’m going to let your links stand because at least they go to substantive discussion. But don’t do it again. And — stick around. You may find that the discussion of culture found here at AMV actually deepens some of the arguments you are trying to make over at Credo.

Can we weather tomorrow’s storms better if we adopt best practices from religious communities? Here’s the Mormon perspective.
http://culture11.com/blogs/credo/2008/10/23/resilient-communities-the-lds-perspective/