Ten Classics That Lack of Christian Worldview Makes It Harder to Understand

This post has been sitting in my drafts for quite a while! I first had the idea when I was writing my post on Mr. Rochester back in August of last year and was reading through Goodreads reviews and came across a gross misunderstanding of the plot of Jane Eyre, and I've been waiting for a long time to get this post out to the world! But the time has come, m'dears. (Mostly because I'm in the middle of finals and don't have time to write a new post, or 'gussy up' a slightly incomplete one that I already have. XD)

The idea behind this post was the realization that a lot of classics have either themes or plot points which, given that a lot of the classical oeuvre is founded on a Judeo-Christian worldview (haha, I used the word oeuvre! I'm a grownup now! xD), would be hard for a modern reader to understand, given that most modern readers in this post-Christian world are either secular ("nones") or atheist. So, being the dutiful blogger I am, I immediately started making a list. Which I am now going to share with you, because I found the pursuit fascinating. You're welcome. :D

Oh, and just FYI...I'm not even trying to avoid spoilers for the books involved in this post, given that many of the things I'm talking about that would be hard for a secular/atheist reader to understand are major plot points. So, please use your readerly discretion. ;)

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen
Pride & Prejudice is generally pretty comprehensible to the modern reader, but apparently not entirely. The main thing which I've heard people misunderstand about this book is the subplot about Lydia. 

I've definitely heard things along the lines of "so Lydia ran off with Wickham...so what?" And... yeah, that's not a "so what". Given the Christian precept that sleeping together before marriage (clearly Wickham's plan) is sinful, first of all, Lydia is about to commit a grave sin. This perhaps isn't as obviously a concern to her family. However, the English culture of the time, very much shaped by Christian morality, also looked very sternly upon any infraction involving a woman's purity. Once Lydia was "marred", no one would want to marry her. Even worse, if she was left pregnant by the incident...horrors. Hence, the huge amount of worry, and why Mr. Darcy went to lengths to make sure Wickham married Lydia. It meant a huge amount to the Bennets, if not specifically because of the Christian morality involved, because of the culture shaped by said Christian morality. 

Jane Eyre by Charotte Bronte
Obviously, this is the misunderstanding that sparked this whole post. Because apparently some people don't understand why Jane couldn't just marry Mr. Rochester while he was married to Bertha? Or, I suppose, why Mr. Rochester couldn't just get a divorce. 

In these days when marriage is not respected qua institution, it's not surprising that people might question if the marriage thing is even an issue. (Sad, but not surprising.) However, in the time that Bronte wrote the book, any sort of adultery, bigamy, any breaking of or unfaithfulness to the wedding vows--which are between a man and a woman, exclusive, and for life--would have been unthinkable, both culturally and in church circles. (In most church circles, breaking of or unfaithfulness to wedding vows is still unthinkable.) Thus, the drama, and thus, Jane's moral character, in being ready rather to leave the man she loved and who loved her rather than to commit the sin of bigamy/fornication/adultery (not entirely sure which applies so...just put them all!). That determination to deprive herself of "happiness" rather than commit a sin of such gravity is one of the things I love most about Jane, so I'm sad that not everyone understand the context which makes her so awesome. 

A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Now, I've just mentioned that not everyone would understand Jane's choice not to commit a sin even to keep her apparent happiness. But I think there's an even bigger issue that's hinted at there in misunderstandings of Jane Eyre which is really brought to the fore in Dorian Gray. (Which I always want to spell as 'Dorian Grey' because I am a closet Brit, apparently. It's just aesthetically nicer!)

And that's the issue of sin. Secular people (atheists) in the modern world don't necessarily understand the concept and the gravity of sin, in its separation of us from God and its marring of human nature. With today's culture of 'your truth' and 'my truth' and 'you do you', the idea that there are things which are objectively bad, let alone the idea that doing those things could hurt you, has gotten lost. Thus, a book in which the whole point is that the character's sinful life is turning him into a horrific version of himself, even if his magic portrait hides his monstrosity...well, that might not be the most comprehensible. 

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne 
And speaking of sin...The Scarlet Letter. I can't speak to this one quite as much, not being in a Puritan-ish religious tradition myself, but here's another book in which a lack of a worldview which involves sin causes problems.

Cuz the whole drama of the book is that Hester has sinned obviously in bearing a child out of wedlock, but the hidden sin of what's his face (Dimmesdale?) festers in him until it bursts forth eventually (truth will out and all, y'know). And in a Christian view, sin does fester, Dorian Gray's portrait being an obvious example as his image in the portrait turns into a horrific festering monster. But if one doesn't understand that, all one is going to get out of the book is a frustration at all the sexism involved. (Which, sure. Is an issue. But I find the festering of Dimmesdale's sin much more interesting, in the long run. Because even though he doesn't face immediate consequences, one might make the argument that he suffers more. That, however, is exactly the sort of thing which a modern atheist reader might not find fascinating.)

The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri 
Shall we take a little break from sin to talk about...well, everything else? Full comprehension of The Divine Comedy (which I do not claim to possess, lol) requires a comprehension of the practice of medieval Catholicism, the Who's Who of medieval Catholicism, the saints of medieval Catholicism, and the theology of medieval Catholicism (which, for the record, does not differ from the theology of modern Catholicism except in being slightly less unfolded). 

Examples: Well, okay, I lied about taking a break of sin (not on purpose, though. And I suppose you got a little break from sin). Many of the sins discussed within the Comedia would be completely foreign to a modern reader, not to mention, obviously, the concept of sin. Then also, the idea of punishment for or purgation from sin. And all of the saints and all of the politics of the saints (for instance, it may take a Dominican education to understand why it's significant why St. Thomas Aquinas tells about St. Francis while St. Bonaventure about St. Dominic). 

There's just a lot in Divine Comedy that's incomprehensible for anyone who wasn't a medieval Catholic. Which I'm not. So. Fun times, even for me, let alone a secular reader.

The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo
For some reason, I have a love of Romantic literature? And Hunchback is pretty high on my list. (Given, not that many novels from that period have been read by me yet, so at this point, they're all pretty high on my list.) 

One of the things which, for me, makes this book the most spine-tingling horror-ish (in the best possible way, and definitely as the author intended) is the fact that it's Frollo, the archdeacon, a clergyman, who is the worst sinner of the book, with no loyalty to his vows of ordination, and a whole lot of lust where La Esmerelda is concerned. Because priests (and, by extension, bishops and deacons), are supposed to be holy. They bring God to the people, ideally! Which means that they should be His representatives. And when one of them falls...that fall is terrible. Or rather, it is for someone who expects priests to strive for holiness. Which I do, but most secular readers probably don't (at all, sadly), which means they lose that delightful (horrible?) spine tingle.

The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
Shall we talk about another book about a priest? The Power and the Glory is one of my favorite more modern books, even though it doesn't seem like something I should like. (Apparently in addition to Romantic literature, I also like realistic fiction? But only certain kinds. Graham Greene certainly makes the grade.) 

One of the themes of The Power and the Glory is the contrast between three priests and two (or three) views of holiness. The "whisky priest", Padre Jose, and the priest in the story the mother is reading to her children all prompt the reader to consider what true holiness and bravery look like in the world. Which doesn't seem like something a secular reader would want to consider (at least consciously). And the theme of sin and belief also runs through this book strongly, with the whisky priest in a state of mortal sin for much of the book, the life-and-death significance of which would be difficult to understand for most secular readers. 

Also, the turning point of the book revolves around the importance of saving a single soul, which is perhaps slightly incomprehensible for the average atheist. (And takes time to understand, even for the committed Christian, in my experience.)

Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
In a very similar vein to The Power and the Glory, although much less dramatic, Death Comes follows an Archbishop in New Mexico in the 1800s as he goes about his ministry, with many small vignettes of faith and unbelief, joy and sorrow, which make up the plot, as it is. 

And while I think this one might be easier to understand for many secular readers, I think a reaction that I would expect from them would be "what's the point?" because without an understanding of the gravity of an individual soul and also the fact that one's ministry may not bear any fruit around one while still bearing fruit in one's own life, it's hard to discern that there is a point.

Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis
Oh, my dear Lewis. This, my favorite of his books, addresses, partially, the issue of belief. Belief, and how we approach God, and our correct attitude towards Him, and...well, much of the whole book is about our approach to God, couched under the disguise of Orual's approach to the pagan gods. Which is just brilliant. Lewis, the king of sneaking Christian theology in under the guise of fairy tale, does it again. 

Given that part of the goal of the book (I think) is a secret baptism of the imagination, this book isn't perhaps hard to understand for an atheist reader. That would defeat the purpose. But I think one gets more out of it as a Christian, someone attempting the spiritual life, seeing how Lewis draws the parallels in Orual's life with our own attempted approach to God. 

"How can [the gods] meet us face to face till we have faces?"

Image credit to owner

The Queen's Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner
I am cheating in the extreme here, because no one considers The Queen's Thief a classic...yet. But it goes with Till We Have Faces in my mind, and since I've brought together other similar books/threads in this post (sins, priests), I thought I'd include TQT as a last hurrah in the post, since I haven't mentioned it on the blog in, as the kids say, "a hot second". 

Like TWHF, TQT includes an approach to pagan gods (not the ones of the Greco-Roman pantheon, but different ones, which is fun and fascinating) which really parallels the Christian spiritual life. Not necessarily in external similarities, but in the underlying emotion. Who of us hasn't gone to God for an answer and been very irritated when He actually answers, and it's not the answer we want? Or who of us doesn't like to forget, from time to time, that He is a real person, with definite opinions on what we should do in our life? Or forget that He is Very Powerful? And it goes on...

Like with TWHF, not getting that isn't going to materially damage understanding the book, but I think understanding the emotion there from personal experience at least a bit adds lovely resonances to the series. Just my opinion. 

And here we are at the "end"...except that this was never not meant to be an exhaustive post. The list of classics is never-ending...at least on Goodreads, where, as part of making the list of books for this post, I looked at the first 200 of the list of Must Read Classics, which is 1754 books long. A biiiit much. If I was to try to comb through that list to compile an exhaustive post, I would be here forever. Plus, there are also more modern books which still fit into the category of hard-to-understand-for-a-secular-reader. So, instead, please remind me of more books in said category in the comments! I'd love to be told what I've forgotten, which will probably include quite a few facepalm moments, as I remember books that I obviously should have included but didn't. I'm quite looking forward to it.

So, tell me all of the books I've forgotten! XD Also, do you prefer to spell the color between white and black as 'grey' or 'gray'? I must know. *turns into Inigo Montoya*