"An Exercise in Mormon Criticism: 'Pan's Labyrinth'"

I (Davey) wrote this essay over the last few days for the upcoming Mormon Media Studies Symposium. It is rich with spoilers for the movie Pan's Labyrinth, which is one of my favorite movies ever, for many reasons I discuss in this paper, and for its inclusion of awesome monsters like this one:


Read! Enjoy! Consider! Comment!

I. The Case for Mormon Criticism

Much is made in the LDS community of the need for great Mormon art and artists. Orson F. Whitney said it perhaps most famously: “We shall have Miltons and Shakespeares of our own.” While these conversations are frequently worthwhile and sometimes even inspiring, they often miss a couple of simple and significant points. First: great Mormon art and artists already exist. No matter your definition or your standards, there is much out there that is of very good report indeed. Second: all art for Mormons need not be “Mormon art” for it to be valuable. While there is no reason not to tell stories unique to Latter-day Saint religion, culture, and community, there is also no need to be entirely exclusive, either as artists or as audience members—the majority of spiritual experiences, after all, most likely take place outside of the temple and the church meetinghouse.

Separate from, but related to the need for great Mormon artists is the need for mature, thinking Mormon audiences. In order for an artistic movement to flourish, a number of requirements are necessary. An audience must exist to receive the work. Equally necessary is the existence of a critical community. With Sunstone, Dialogue, Irreantum, the Association for Mormon Letters (AML), BYU Studies, and other like-minded enterprises, a body of intelligent critics and criticism has developed in the Mormon arts community. What is largely missing, however, is Mormon criticism of non-Mormon texts. Richard Bushman recently launched The Mormon Review in an attempt to fill this void in the Mormon critical community. So far, it has published a number of very worthwhile essays, on topics ranging from Vertigo to Dan Brown to the original Battlestar Gallactica; the website, however, is still in its infancy, and, between the blog-like format and the inconsistency of new content, it has yet to receive the attention of the aforementioned publications. Other examples of Mormon criticism of non-Mormon texts exist, but it seems they are still too few and far between.

What might be the purpose of a Mormon criticism? The same as any other school of criticism, I think—to reveal something new and worth investigating in the work, the reader, the critic, and the ideology being used. Our theological background gives us unique insight into certain works, just as certain stories reveal to us things we had never realized about our own doctrine and beliefs. Not every work of art warrants a specifically Mormon reading—most probably do not, just as not every work is suited to a psychoanalytic reading—but that should not deter us from using our Mormon lens to examine those that seem to invite it. Steven Spielberg may not have intended E.T. as a celebration of how Christ's Atonement so personally heals that which is broken in us, but it is certainly a valid interpretation of the film; and, while there may not have been any Latter-day Saint involvement in Disney's Pinocchio, the film still acts as a very moving parable of the Plan of Salvation.

And so, as those entrenched within Mormonism and within the arts continue to ask the questions: “What is Mormon art?” and “What is Mormon film?” I would like to suggest one possible answer: Mormon film is any film as seen by a Mormon.



II. Case Study: Pan's Labyrinth and the Sanctity of Disobedience

Writer-director Guillermo Del Toro's film Pan's Labyrinth (2006) follows the frightening and fantastical journey of a young girl, Ofelia, through a series of magical adventures, set against the backdrop of the real-life horrors of the Spanish Civil War. Del Toro frames Ofelia's story with, essentially, a mythological conception of the Plan of Salvation. The film begins with voice-over narration:


“A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamed of blue skies, soft breeze, and sunshine. One day, eluding her keepers, the Princess escaped. Once outside, the brightness blinded her and erased every trace of the past from her memory. She forgot who she was and where she came from. Her body suffered cold, sickness, and pain. Eventually, she died. However, her father, the King, always knew the Princess' soul would return.” (Pan's Labyrinth, Del Toro)

Spiritual royalty, lost in a fallen world where she is prone to the frailties of mortality, separated from her pre-Earth memories by means of a “veil,” Ofelia discovers and accepts her divine identity by navigating a series of moral complexities, in an attempt to reclaim her heritage and return to live with her true father, the King. This is the basis for a story that takes the moral logic of a uniquely Mormon conception of the Fall of Man, and extends it to an Abraham and Isaac narrative. The result is powerful, and the implications profound.

Mormonism holds a unique view of the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. While a variety of interpretations exist within Mormonism, Latter-day Saints tend to believe, more so than other Judeo-Christians, that Eve’s partaking of the fruit was less a momentary vulnerability to temptation than it was the wise and courageous decision of a strong woman choosing to take on mortality in the face of pain, death, and difficulties. A poem by Sarah E. Page, “Coring the Apple,” published in Mormon Artist magazine, eloquently expresses this view:

“Instead of the thorn,
Hast thou found honey?

I would like to ask Eve someday
What she saw in the apple.

Before she chose
The fire-stung glory of mortality,
Did she pause for even the space of a breath,
Tremble at the bruise of pain, the sharpness of the briar?
Perhaps she sensed the hope nestled star-like
In the core of the fruit
And so risked all she was for the quickening--
The promise of the seed dreaming deep in the loam.

I would like to ask Eve someday
What she saw in me.”

The “commandment” not to eat of the fruit, then (the word “commandment” is used more in discussions of the Genesis story than it is in the actual account of it), is less a commandment in the traditional sense, and more a statement of cause and effect: “For in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die” (Genesis 2:17). In God’s plan, partaking of the fruit was essential, but it was to occur only when Adam and Eve had matured to the point that they were able to make the decision for themselves, and to take upon themselves the consequences of mortality. This understanding of the Adam and Eve story celebrates the innate individual spiritual conscience—the Light of Christ—capable of making significant moral choices even when they may seem contradictory to the commandments of God Himself. This is a radical and profound re-envisioning of a classical myth. The Mormon Adam and Eve are gods in embryo indeed—their spiritual and moral instinct bears even greater weight than a perceived commandment.

This dichotomy between moral reasoning and unthinking obedience is central in Pan’s Labyrinth. The film’s villain, Captain Vidal (also Ofelia's stepfather), is a foil to the celestial cosmology of the fantasy world—where Ofelia is the spiritual heir to a glorious throne, Vidal is the dark lord of a corrupt land. Ofelia must resist Vidal’s evil—and, ultimately, overcome it with good—in order to save herself and redeem Spain.

Throughout the story, Ofelia is presented with a series of tests, administered by a faun (the literal translation of the title is The Labyrinth of the Faun); the faun acts as an intermediary between Ofelia and her father, whose existence she must take on faith. For one of these tests, she is asked to retrieve the contents of a small box from a large dining room filled with delicious food without touching or tasting it—“Do not eat of the fruit,” she is told, in effect. The Ofelia in this scene is, in many regards, a traditionally Christian Eve—she disobeys and eats a single plump, juicy grape, and so unleashes a terrifying monster when she “partakes of the fruit.” She escapes the creature's clutches and returns in safety, but the faun's wrath is kindled—and, through her ignorant act of disobedience, she has very nearly forfeited her royal heritage.

These challenges Ofelia faces in the magical world are juxtaposed against a backdrop of the all-too-real horrors of the Spanish Civil War, in which she finds herself mired. In the woods surrounding Captain Vidal's house—even in the household itself—a resistance movement has been building. Dr. Ferreiro, a medical doctor who works for Vidal—and who is also an undercover force for the resistance—is presented with his own moral choice, one that once again echoes that of Adam and Eve, albeit in an inverted form. Vidal has captured one of the soldiers of the resistance, and is torturing him for information. The Captain commands Ferreiro to keep the prisoner alive after he has tortured him nearly to death—Vidal wants the man to suffer as much as possible, and also wants as much information as he can extract from him. Rather than keeping the prisoner alive, Ferreiro mercifully administers a lethal injection. Vidal is enraged by the doctor's act of disobedience. When confronted, Ferreiro responds, “To obey—just like that—for the sake of obeying . . . without questioning . . . That's something only people like you can do, Captain.” It is important to remember Ferreiro's words in the climax of the film, when Ofelia must prove herself in her third and final test, and in which these thematic and theological strands are finally united.



For this final test, Ofelia must take her mother’s newborn baby, her own little brother, into the middle of the garden maze outside their house—when she arrives, Ofelia is told she must offer the child's blood as a sacrifice. The blood sacrifice of a pure and innocent child immediately conjures up Christian parallels (especially taking place, as it does, deep in a garden in the dark of night), but this story even more specifically recalls that of Abraham and Isaac, with a powerful and seemingly cruel God requiring an offering of a vulnerable child upon the altar.

In his story “Abraham's Purgatory,” included in The FOB Bible, B. G. Christensen recounts the story of Abraham's sacrifice, as he plays out the event time and again in his mind, in every possible iteration. Each time, the story concludes with a cold, piercing finality: “He placed the knife against his son's neck and cut.” Abraham pleads with God again and again—he asks for a sign, but he is met with silence. The story concludes:

Once again, Abraham lifted his knife and tried to ignore the fear in his son's eyes.
The knife trembled.
“I'm sorry, son. There is no other way. We must obey the Lord. We—we must—” No.
No.
I will not.
Abraham lowered the knife to his son's wrist and cut the twine. Above Isaac's grateful sobs he heard a rustling in the bush.
(“Abraham's Purgatory,” Christensen)

Christensen's rewriting of Abraham's sacrifice turns on its head the traditional story of unshakable faith and absolute obedience. In this story, Abraham's test of faith remains just as unendurable, but the angel who appears to Abraham here is not a physical being or a vision of light; instead it is his own spirit, his moral conscience—the godly within him. Like the Eve of Mormonism, like Jesus among the Pharisees, Abraham breaks a commandment to fulfill a higher law, and it is in his act of willful, reasoned disobedience that he paradoxically finds salvation.

Like Christensen's uniquely Mormon Abraham, Ofelia, too, renounces the blind obedience decried by Ferreira, and refuses the faun’s request of the infant’s life; where her act of disobedience in the first test was weakness, this resolute refusal is strength. Captain Vidal, who has been chasing Ofelia through the garden maze, appears, and Ofelia is shot and killed. In a moment of beautiful irony, Ofelia’s own blood acts as the necessary sacrifice of an innocent, and, as in Eden, seemingly contradictory moral necessities are clarified and unified, fulfilled and transcended. Ofelia acts as a Savior for her younger brother (and, by extension, the future of Spain itself), and, in wisely disobeying, she has proven her obedience, her strength, and her purity.

“Many, many years ago, in a sad, faraway land, there was an enormous mountain made of rough, black stone. At sunset, on top of that mountain, a magic rose blossomed every night that made whoever plucked it immortal. But no one dared go near it because its thorns were full of poison. Men talked amongst themselves about their fear of death, and pain, but never about the promise of eternal life. And every day, the rose wilted, unable to bequeath its gift to anyone... Forgotten and lost at the top of that cold, dark mountain, forever alone, until the end of time.” (Pan's Labyrinth, Del Toro)

This is the bedtime story Ofelia tells her unborn sister early in the film, and it is a telling metaphor for and summation of Del Toro's rendering of Mormon doctrine. Eternal life is atop a high mountain—cold, dark, and steep—the way is strait, and the road narrow. It is a frightening journey up this personal Moriah—so frightening that many never even attempt it. But it is in this journey—through both the darkness that lies around us, and the fear that lies within us—that our faith is tested, our character proven, and this corruption takes on incorruption. Only by passing through mortality may we transcend it; only (like Eve, like Abraham) by facing the impossible questions of our faith, until we fear it might crumble around us—only by daring to do what is right even in the face of eternal damnation—can we become exalted, and find the god that dwells within us.
“You have passed the test,” the faun says to Ofelia, and bows—and, in the film's final moments, she is welcomed to take her place next to her spiritual Father, as Princess.

“And it is said that the Princess returned to her Father's kingdom. That she reigned there with justice and a kind heart for many centuries. That she was loved by her people. And that she left behind small traces of her time on Earth, visible only to those who know where to look.” (Pan's Labyrinth, Del Toro)



III. Towards a (More) Mormon Audience

Pan's Labyrinth is just one example of a work of art that takes on greater depth of meaning when examined through a specific religious lens. Mormonism provides an unusually fitting framework through which to understand and explore Del Toro's film, even as the film itself illuminates and expounds upon the sublime heresy at the heart of Mormonism—namely, that when Adam and Eve partook of the fruit in Eden, they truly did become as gods, proving their ability to discern good from evil, even in the face of death and damnation.

While the Catholicism and the classical mythology present in Del Toro's moral fairy tale are undoubtedly deliberate, and can be traced throughout the filmmaker's body of work, it seems unlikely that Pan's Labyrinth was ever intended to have anything to do with the intricacies of doctrine in a somewhat obscure 19th century American religion. Still, once acknowledged, the parallels are undeniable. It is these sorts of critical contexts that enlarge even the works they interpret, as we find in other artist's stories the “small traces” they may have left—clues that allow us to remake the work of art in our own image; analysis becomes essay and even autobiography as we find out new things in ourselves, in the art, in the artist, and in our own doctrine. In this way, the active audience member becomes a participant in the creative process, adding to what is onscreen rather than simply and distractedly consuming it. “Indeed we may say,” says Joseph Smith, in the thirteenth Article of Faith, “that we follow the admonition of Paul... If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.” Truth, beauty, and wisdom—virtue, loveliness, and goodness—these are all ours to discover in our experiences as viewers and as critics, if, as in the final words of Del Toro's film, “we only know where to look.”

Seeking Inspiration

Seeking Inspiration
June 27, 2010 – PV1 Ward
Tim Morrison


Ten days ago, my son Davey, his wife Bianca, and I visited Nauvoo and Carthage, Illinois. As we listened to senior missionaries and tour guides recount stories of the early days and people in Church history, my testimony was strengthened again. 166 years ago today Joseph and Hyrum Smith were martyred by mobsters in the Carthage jail. I am grateful for Joseph’s work of restoration and bear testimony that he was chosen by God to bring the gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth once more.
My parents joined the Church in Washington State as a young married couple with an infant son. My dad had known some fellow soldiers who were LDS when they served together during the Korean War, and he had been impressed with them. So when the missionaries later came tracting, my parents were willing to listen. My mother told me that she had a difficult time accepting as true the experiences of Joseph Smith—the First Vision, his translation of the Book of Mormon, the restoration of the priesthood, and so on. I am grateful for the patience of the young missionaries who were willing to continue over a period of months to teach and work with this young couple. I am grateful that the Spirit whispered to my mom, assuring her that Joseph was a prophet and that the Church he established was founded on eternal truths. Her conversion has established a firm foundation for my brothers and me, and for our families. I am grateful for “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, [who] has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in the world, than any other man that ever lived in it “ (D&C 135:3).
Joseph Smith was once asked what differentiated this church from others. His response was the Holy Ghost. One major blessing of the Holy Ghost is His role as a revelator. One of our Articles of Faith states: “We believe all that God has revealed, all that he does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the kingdom of God.” This belief in specific revelation for the Church as a whole that comes through a prophet was a new understanding at that time among most faith traditions. For many of them, revelation was considered to be much more general and mysterious than the type of literal revelation proposed by Joseph. However, Joseph was not satisfied with revelation for the church only. He also emphasized the idea that personal revelation was not only possible for each one of us, but was also expected of us. Each of us can receive guidance from the Spirit in our daily lives.
This topic of revelation and inspiration is very fundamental to Mormon thought and practice. It reaches into almost every aspect of our lives as Latter-day Saints. Although there is much that can be said about inspiration, I have chosen to speak today about four principles of inspiration—first, that inspiration can come to us without specifically asking for it; second, we should actively seek inspiration; third, not all inspiration is specific, but is sometimes more general in nature; and fourth, inspiration at times comes to us very specifically. All four of these principles are founded on the understanding that whenever we receive inspiration, we should recognize that the Spirit is speaking to us, acknowledge the source of the prompting, and act on it immediately.
Sometimes inspiration comes to us without asking or seeking. Although we may ask for guidance in daily prayers, specific inspiration may come to us without asking for explicit help in particular circumstances. Today, as we do each Sunday, we partook of the sacrament. In doing so, we renewed covenants with promised blessings. We promised to be “willing to take upon [us] the name of [Jesus Christ], and always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given [us]; that [we] may always have his Spirit to be [us].” This blessing of this Spirit can give us help in our lives. One example of such inspiration comes from my wife’s extended family.
During World War II, my father-in-law, Clayton Sonderegger, was assigned to the 288th Field Artillery Observation Battalion and saw action in Germany, along the Siegfried Line. He was a 20-year-old young man who was leader of a group of soldiers who were assigned to pick out observation points where they could look out into enemy territory and identify targets to shoot at. They would radio the coordinates to the artillery command and rounds would fire at the targets they had identified. After observing where the shells hit, they would give more precise coordinates so that subsequent shells would hit closer to the intended targets.
On one occasion, his group was asked to drive to a specific site to begin initial surveying of the location of the German troops. After driving a distance toward their lookout point, they saw that the road branched into two directions. The branch they were supposed to use had clearly been used more frequently than the other, so the driver began to drive that way. However, young Clayton felt a prompting of the Spirit to have the driver back up and drive along the less-used road. Although the road had not been frequently used and the snow made the driving difficult, they finally made it safely to their destination. After accomplishing their assigned task, they returned to camp by the same route.
Upon their return, before they could even get out of their vehicle, they were met by their commander and fellow soldiers. One lieutenant came to the driver side, opened the door, and asked, “Are you okay?” Then he went to the other side and asked, “Are you okay?” After repeating this again on both sides of the vehicle, he told them that soon after they had left, word had reached them that the road they were headed down had German soldiers hiding in wait for enemy soldiers. One truck with other American soldiers had been ambushed and all of them had been killed.
Now, whenever Grandpa Sonderegger tells this story (he is now 85 years old), his eyes fill with tears and his voice falters as he testifies of the safety that came to him and to his fellow soldiers that day because he followed the promptings of the Spirit. The Spirit does speak to us at times even when we do not specifically seek His help, but His Spirit can always be with us.
[I first sustained President Monson as the new President of the Church at a ward conference on the BYU campus in a young single adult ward sacrament meeting. This ward conference occurred prior to the general conference where a solemn assembly was held for the entire Church to sustain him. As a member of the stake presidency asked for a sustaining vote, I felt he Spirit witness to me unmistakenly that Thomas S. Monson is the prophet. I did not specifically seek this inspiration—it just was a gift from the Spirit on that occasion].
Sometimes the whisperings of the Spirit come as a result of prayer and seeking. We should actively seek inspiration and be prepared to receive our own confirmation from the Spirit. One example of this came when President Kimball was seeking revelation about extending the blessings of the priesthood to all worthy male Church members. While President Kimball’s fervent searching and then receiving answers to his prayers are well known, President Romney, then second counselor in the First Presidency, also received inspiration.
During this time, President Romney seemed content to leave the long-standing policy alone with no change. He wrote, “I knew President Kimball was searching for an answer and whenever we discussed the question, I told him, ‘If you get an answer, I will support you with all my strength,’ but I did not expect him to get an answer. This had been going on for months, at least . . . We as his counselors encouraged him to get it off his mind, to rest.’” But President Kimball wasn’t satisfied that President Romney just support him—he wanted President Romney to receive his own inspiration.
President Romney wrote, “The idea of change was new to me. I had gone 80 years defending the Church position. I am a Romney, you see, a stubborn man. I was personally slow to accept change. I prayed hard that the Lord would give the president the right answer, but I did not presume to urge that the answer be yes or no. I was most interested that he be sure.
“If the decision had been left to me, I would have felt that we’ve always had that policy and we would stick to it no matter what the opposition. I resisted change in my feelings, but I came to accept it slowly.”
President Romney prayed fervently to receive his own confirmation from the Spirit. In his words, he said, “I have now changed my position 180 degrees. I am not just a supporter of this decision. I am an advocate. When the revelation came, I knew the mind and the will of the Lord had been made manifest.”
[After teaching elementary school in Idaho for one year, my wife and I wondered what we should do next. I felt that I wanted to return to school to earn a master’s degree, but I also felt that I should continue teaching to gain more experience. I had received offers for several teaching positions—in fact, my wife, Carol, and I had both been offered teaching positions in one school district—but we were still unsure of what to do. We sought the direction from the Lord and were told that we should return to BYU so I could study in the master’s degree program there].
At times, we may receive specific inspiration regarding issues in our lives, but at other times and in some instances, the answers we receive are more general in nature. At those times, we should press forward the best we can with the guidance we receive. However, we are assured that we can receive direction from the Spirit. An example of general guidance from the Spirit comes from the very large and active Parley P. Pratt Family Organization is.
In 2007, the 200th anniversary of the birth of Parley was commemorated. As part of the celebration, an acquaintance of mine, Paul DeBry, was asked to produce a DVD to honor the lives of some of the Pratt family. In a fireside I attended, he told of the life of Parley P. Pratt and related an interesting account of Parley’s burial. He said that Parley was killed as he served a mission in Arkansas and was buried in the family graveyard of the local blacksmith who had witnessed the murder, despite his wish to be buried back home in Utah. While it has been known for years where that burial ground was located, it had not been known the exact spot of his burial. The Pratt family had tried to find the location without success, but had identified a plot of ground that was the likely spot.
Finally, they asked President Hinckley to seek inspiration regarding the location. Instead of obtaining a specific response to prayer, he was told to advise the Pratt family group to obtain the identified land, plus another ten feet in all directions surrounding it. Sometimes the promptings we receive from the Spirit are more general in nature than we would prefer.
[We followed the general answer to return to BYU, but we had to make many decisions on our own regarding what specific program to enter, what to study, and so on].
Sometimes the whisperings of the Spirit are vey specific. In the Introduction to the Doctrine and Covenants we read, “These sacred revelations were received in answer to prayer, in times of need, and came out of real-life situations involving real people. The Prophet and his associates sought for divine guidance, and these revelations certify that they received it.” We, too, can receive guidance in our real-life situations. In the most recent General Conference Priesthood Session, Elder Rasband told of his experience with President Eyring in assigning missionaries to their fields of labor.
“I joined Elder Eyring early one morning in a room where several large computer screens had been prepared for the session. There was also a staff member from the Missionary Department who had been assigned to assist us that day.
“First, we knelt together in prayer. I remember Elder Eyring using very sincere words, asking the Lord to bless him to know ‘perfectly’ where the missionaries should be assigned. The word ‘perfectly’ said much about the faith that Elder Eyring exhibited that day.
“As the process began, a picture of the missionary to be assigned would come up on one of the computer screens. As each picture appeared, to me it was as if the missionary were in the room with us. Elder Eyring would then greet the missionary with his kind and endearing voice: ‘Good morning, Elder Reier or Sister Yang. How are you today?’
“He then referred to another screen which displayed areas and missions across the world. Finally, as he was prompted by the Spirit, he would assign the missionary to his or her field of labor.
“After assigning a few missionaries, Elder Eyring turned to me as he pondered one particular missionary and said, ‘So, Brother Rasband, where do you think this missionary should go?’ I was startled! I quietly suggested to Elder Eyring that I did not know and that I did not know I could know! He looked at me directly and simply said, ‘Brother Rasband, pay closer attention and you too can know!’ With that, I pulled my chair a little closer to Elder Eyring and the computer screen, and I did pay much closer attention!
“A couple of other times as the process moved along, Elder Eyring would turn to me and say, ‘Well, Brother Rasband, where do you feel this missionary should go?’ I would name a particular mission, and Elder Eyring would look at me thoughtfully and say, ‘No, that’s not it!’ He would then continue to assign the missionaries where he had felt prompted.
“As we were nearing the completion of that assignment meeting, a picture of a certain missionary appeared on the screen. I had the strongest prompting, the strongest of the morning, that the missionary we had before us was to be assigned to Japan. I did not know that Elder Eyring was going to ask me on this one, but amazingly he did. I rather tentatively and humbly said to him, ‘Japan?’ Elder Eyring responded immediately, ‘Yes, let’s go there.’ And up on the computer screen the missions of Japan appeared. I instantly knew that the missionary was to go to the Japan Sapporo Mission. Elder Eyring did not ask me the exact name of the mission, but he did assign that missionary to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
“Privately in my heart I was deeply touched and sincerely grateful to the Lord for allowing me to experience the prompting to know where that missionary should go . . . That whispering of the Spirit is an example of how the call comes to servants of the Lord to send missionaries to their fields of labor.”
In the case of assigning missionaries to specific areas for service very specific inspiration is required. However, not all inspiration is so specific, even when we wish it to be so. We may wish to have the Lord tell us specifically what our profession should be, whom we should marry, where we should live or move our families, and so on.
[Recently, my wife and I were talking about how to help our family remain close to one another even though we live so far from one another. We lamented the fact that some of our children and grandchildren live so far from us, but one specific answer came to Carol as we drove together in the car one day—create a family blog. This is an unlikely idea to come to two digital immigrants. But when we suggested it to our digital native children and their spouses, it was met with enthusiasm. And the blog is a blessing to our entire family. The Lord can give us specific direction in our real-life situations].
Inspiration can come to each of us, whether we actively seek it or not. It will come to us as specific answers or the impressions may be more general, but the Spirit will speak to our minds and hearts. When the Spirit does speak to us, we need to do three things: First, recognize that it is the Spirit whispering to us. Second, acknowledge that the source of the inspiration is divine. Third, we need to act on the inspiration we receive. When we do, we will receive one of the great blessings of being a member of the Church—we will “always have His Spirit to be with [us].”

Five Scriptures

A few years ago, Grandma Sonderegger received a copy of her father's favorite scriptures. It was only half a page, but it meant a great deal to her. When I'm home again I'll post those on our blog, but I was inspired by Steve and Davey's favorite songs to post five of my favorite scriptures. These are scriptures which have meant a lot to me throughout my life and I hope they will be meaningful to you as well. I'd love to have others post some of their favorites, too. Here are five of mine:

1. Proverbs 3:5-6:
"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

This became a favorite of mine during High School and has been a favorite ever since.

2. Alma 7:11-12:
"And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.

"And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities."

This scripture means more to me all the time. Christ not only took upon Himself our sins, but also our infirmities, our pains, and our sicknesses. He suffered these things according to the flesh so that He knows how to succor us in our trials. Whatever we are struggling with, He can help us because He does know how we feel. To me, this is also one of the reasons we have trials is so that we can be more compassionate when others are struggling. Even if we don't understand exactly what they are feeling, hopefully our own trials will help us to be more compassionate and less judgmental.

3. Doctrine and Covenants 90:24:

"Search diligently, pray always and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good . . ."

I think this means that even the most difficult things we go through will work for our good if we trust the Lord.

4. Doctrine and Covenants 6:20:

"Behold, thou art Oliver, and I have spoken unto thee because of thy desires; therefore treasure up these words in thy heart. Be faithful and diligent in keeping the commandments of God and I will encircle thee in the arms of my love."

This is one of those scriptures where it is a good idea to replace the name of the person in the scripture with your own name to make it more personal. This scripture means a lot to me because there are times when I have felt encircled in the arms of the Savior's love, almost tangibly. Treasuring up the Lord's words in our hearts is a good way to feel His love. I love many verses in Section 6.

5. Psalm 46:10:

"Be still and know that I am God . . . "

Steve Recommends: Five Songs

 Davey did this already today. I am completely copying him.

Morton Feldman: For Philip Guston
Meditative and transcendent. A long, slow piece for a small group of piccolo, flute, piano, celesta, glockenspiel, vibraphone, marimba, and chimes--it lasts well over 4-1/2 hours (this is just a ten-minute clip near the end, but the whole thing is on YouTube in 32 parts, if you feel like it). This is the final section, which is even more moving after 4 hours of this stuff. It's music of peace, acceptance, and its light is gentle and suffused. Listen to the entire piece outside on a summer evening while the sun sets and the stars come out. Your life may change.
Also love the choice of Pikachu imagery for this music on the YouTube video.

Secret of Kells: Aisling's Song
I loved this movie and this song. It's sung by a mysterious forest-fairy-child as she makes a cat become a floating spiritual being. If you haven't seen the movie, see it. If you have, see it again. If you've already seen it again, you're free to do whatever you want.

Mozart in Egypt: Requiem/Dhikr
I'm also not a big fan of remix stuff. But this CD was a lot of fun for me. In Mozart's day, Egyptian and Turkish stuff was in fashion (see Mozart's famous "Rondo alla Turca"). So this album combines Mozart pieces with traditional Egyptian music. The results are delightful, and surprisingly moving at times.This song is a movement from Mozart's Requiem combined with traditional Egyptian mourning music.

Rautavaara: Angel of Light: "Like A Dream..."
Visionary, meditative, and inspiring music from a contemporary Finnish composer. This is from his Angel of Light Symphony, written in 1997. It's beautiful and might make your life become magical.

Finale of Janacek's "The Cunning Little Vixen"
One of my favorite works of art is Janacek's "The Cunning Little Vixen." Eliza has a cool animated movie of it that we both like. The opera is based on a Czech comic strip for children, and is about the escapades of a tricky fox and her nemesis, the forester. In the final scene, the vixen has died, and the aging forester takes a rest in the woods. The YouTube summary of what's going on is pretty good, so I'll just quote it:

"He feels old and tired, he has missed out on life his marriage has lost the sparkle of first love. He is in the same place where he met the vixen; just as in the first scene he spies a little vixen, he guesses she is the vixen's own cub because she has the same ears. Just then another frog jumps into his lap, as one had in the first scene of the opera, and he realizes that the very beauty of nature lies in this cycle of life and death, his heart is filled with joy and wonder and the life of the forest surrounding him.

The parallel lives of the animals, who get on with the business of living (and dying), and the humans, who seem to live in a permanent state of regret and paralysis, unfolds in a rich tapestry of musical invention where Janáček uses musical material notated from nature to create a forest of sounds. Many of the climatic moments of the opera are orchestral rather than vocal and the opera is an inviting challenge for directors, singers and choreographer. The final message of the opera is, of course, optimistic, as is always the case with Janáček, celebrating the renewal of life in nature: the final words are given to a frog who says to the Forester "No, I'm not the one you think, that was my granddad, he spoke a lot about you". "

This scene gives me chills every time. Janacek had it performed at his funeral. And if you like children dressed in animal costumes frolicking about, then I suppose this is a thing you'll like. If you don't like that (I don't particularly), this is still wonderful.

I've also been loving Elliott Carter lately, but I'm not sure I recommend his music as I'm not sure anyone else would like it much.

Davey Recommends: Five songs

A couple years ago I read that Cameron Crowe (the dude who wrote and directed such great films as Say Anything and Almost Famous, and such subpar ones as Jerry Maguire) made a bunch of mix tapes every year and kept them as a kind of journal. I thought that was cool. I was thinking about that on the ride across the country, and thought with this blog it'd be fun to post a few things I've been enjoying recently--movies, books, music, etc. Maybe once a monthish. As a means of sharing, and hopefully providing some good recommendations and whatnot. So anyways, without further ado, here are five songs I've been superdigging of late:


"This Bitter Earth/On the Nature of Daylight," Dinah Washington; Max Richter; Remix by Robbie Robertson
A brilliant, beautiful, heartbreaking remix of Washington's vocals with Max Richter's haunting orchestral piece. Robbie Robertson (lead singer of The Band) arranged this for the credits of Shutter Island, and, if anything, it's even greater in context of the movie. Both songs are great on their own, too. I'm usually not big on the whole mashup remix thing, but this is just gorgeous and inspired.

"Wake Up," Arcade Fire
I listened to this probably a dozen times while driving back to Utah last week, and it made me super happy every time. I love the sound of Arcade Fire (trivia: lead singer's Mormon! Percussionist and backup vocalist is his wife!); they sound a bit to me like a band Arvo Part might have formed if he'd been asked to write rock music for a Wes Anderson movie or something. Love the texture of the instruments and the sounds. This was used in the trailer for Where the Wild Things Are, which is not only pretty much the best movie ever made, it was also pretty much the best trailer ever made. Super inspiring song. Somehow, the live version of it with David Bowie on vocals is not The Best Thing Ever, even though it has every reason to be.

"Emily," Joanna Newsom
Part 1
Part 2
Joanna Newsom's totally distinctive vocals and harp-based songwriting are at their best on Ys, which I'd say is her best album, and this is probably my favorite song on it. I love her voice and the harp and the orchestra and the whole strange, magical feel of it. Any song that evokes celestial bodies in the lyrics also wins bonus points from me. All the lyrics are great, in fact--there aren't too many songs with lyrics that I think are necessarily worth looking at as poetry outside their original context, but this is one of them. Newsom is probably not for all tastes, but I think she's one of the best musicians around these days; she came out with a three-disc album just a few months ago that's almost on par with Ys.

"Afterglow," The Small Faces
Man, why is it no one talks about The Small Faces? One of the most underrated rock groups ever. This song stands up to anything else that came out of the British Invasion--so good. The songwriting, the performance, everything--such a wonderful combination of devotion to craft and nearly bursting energy. This is what a (pop-)rock song should be.

"Christian Zeal and Activity," John Adams
This was also used on the Shutter Island soundtrack (the whole soundtrack is worth checking out as a wonderful collection of some beautiful 20th century classical music). I ran across this particular piece a number of months earlier, and I love the holy, hypnotic, strings-induced trance, and the incorporation of the speech sound loops. This is the piece that got me into John Adams, who, in addition to being a pretty great president, is also one of my favorite composers these days.

Book review

No worries--this doesn't have any real spoilers. Just a cursory"response" poem I jotted out quickly to our book, mostly in the spirit of fleshing out some of the recurring ideas. So here goes:

black waves,
undulating
in irregular
regularity,

chaos unleashed
as titans of
storms, death,
sorrow
encircle

absence
circumscribes
presence,
as familiar fades,

consciousness,
increasingly aware
of lapses

verdant lands
awaiting,
lush, lustrous

once discovered,
immediately lost,
evaporating as a
mirage

sweet nectar
distills,
ever-present
yet beyond grasp,
a daily gift,

rosy sun
greets each morn,
giver of life,
devourer with fire,
manifestation
both of nuclear
fury
and divine chariot



white light
shines,
blinding,
as darkness fades

indescribable journey
flowing in unspoken
words,
told in awe,
reverence

regal stripes
paint unseen
majesty,
visible to
eyes who seek
to see

inexplicable,
unprovable,
improbable,
reality bounded
by rational
and irrational
neither one
without the other,
one flesh,
the joint sentinals
guarding truth,
life,

patterns and proof,
types and shadows,
the unknown
and unknowable
intersect,
in covalency
with perception,
consciousness,
mind

intelligence,
known and unknown,
transcending while defining,
the glory of
God.

Home

I was swimming with Eliza on Saturday, and we saw a bird fly by overhead. Eliza asked where it was going, so I told her it was flying to its home in a tree.We began to discuss homes, and whether Eliza lives in a tree.

"No!" she said in her voice that denotes silliness is being perpetrated. Then she smiled mischievously, "I live in a Home......Chomsky!"

She knows what is good. Noam Chomsky is Eliza's favorite linguist.

Receipt: Parmesan Crusted Chicken

This meal was consumed by Mom and Steve. It was originally found at TGIF, where it delighted the palates of said people. An online receipt was ingeniously adapted to create the following feed:

Ingredients:
Chicken breasts, pounded flat
1 cup Italian-style bread crumbs, mixed with 1/3 cup Parmesan cheese
Ken's Steakhouse Lite Caesar dressing
Melted butter
Penne pasta, whole grain
Bottled Alfredo sauce
spinach leaves

Marinate the flattened chicken breasts in a baking pan with Caesar dressing for 15 minutes. Drizzle with melted butter. Sprinkle with Italian bread crumbs mixed with Parmesan cheese. Bake in preheated oven at 450 for 15 minutes. While the chicken is cooking, boil pasta according to package directions. Heat Alfredo sauce and add spinach leaves to alfredo,  as desired.

To Serve: Place pasta on plate, cover with sauce and put chicken on top. Yum!

Serving Suggestion: Pour a can of green beans into a saucepan, juices and all. Sprinkle a modest amount of Italian seasoning and cook on medium heat until you get bored of cooking.

Other Serving Suggestion: Boccherini's Guitar Quintets.

*Special Note: If you are a celiac, much further adaptation is necessary. You know what to do.
**Additional Note: Above is not an actual photo of this meal.

P.S. This is Mom's first blog post ever. I, Steve, wrote part of it, but still.

Grassroots Shakespeare!

Grassroots Shakespeare is a theater group that I've been a part of since last summer. Basically, it's a bunch of young actors recreating the experience of performing Shakespeare in Shakespeare's day--the play is thrown together with a week or so of rehearsals and no director, everyone in charge of procuring their own costumes and props. It's a total blast. I was sad that I wasn't going to be a part of this year's summer touring production, since we were out in the Carolinas for the first few weeks of June. Little did I know.

Here's what I wrote on the Grassroots blog:


It's the classic actor's nightmare--the performance is about to start, you've never been to a rehearsal, and you don't know your lines. Most actors I know have had it. I certainly have. Last night I lived it.

I showed up at the Castle to watch Romeo and Juliet, and, roughly thirty seconds after setting foot in the amphitheater, Alex asked me if I wanted to play Lord Montague. This is what I love about Grassroots. I said yes. Of course I did.

Ten minutes to the scheduled performance--Robbie, still dizzy from blacking out and vomiting during the last show (but still sticking it stalwartly through to curtain call), walks me through his blocking. My blocking. I write all my lines down on a little piece of paper, strategically folding it up into segments arranged by scene. And I laugh at how ridiculous this all is. And awesome.

Robbie gives me a hat, a belt, and a little strip of red cloth that acts as a tie for my costume--I put this on over my street clothes. A hammer is my weapon. A hammer. OK, I'm starting to get a feel for this Montague guy. "I play him kind of like a viking," says Robbie. OK. A viking. Great.

I'm still backstage--scribbling my lines as fast as I can while Robbie dictates--when the rest of the troupe starts playing music, doing dances, juggling, singing the alphabet, anything to give us the couple minutes more we need before the play starts. Prolonging the inevitable. Bless them.

And, before I know it, I'm onstage, in front of an audience, performing Shakespeare.

When you do a bit of performing, it's easy to lose that butterfly-in-the-stomach feeling--that sense of nervous, giddy anticipation, just before walking out on stage, like the moment when you reach the top of a roller coaster and realize just what it is you've gotten yourself into, and maybe wonder what you were thinking. But it's that excitement--that hope, that prayer that you're going to make someone smile or laugh or cry or simply feel something, that you're not going to make a complete imbecile out of yourself--for me, that's what performing is all about. The hope that tonight, somehow, is going to be magical.

Well, that feeling's here right now. In droves. I hope I don't look too ridiculous. But if I do--well, at least I won't go down without a fight.

Onstage, I try to be in the moment. I watch the other actors, I listen, I respond. They're the only clues I've got, and I'm desperate. Offstage, I read the lines on my paper, over and over again, trying to split my attention between not missing a cue and drilling these words into my head--there aren't too many of them, but the clock's ticking. Little snippets of dialogue drift through. "Palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss." "Wherefore art thou Romeo?" "Holy St. Francis!" It's a little surreal.

And I've never experienced anything like it. Memorizing all my lines, trying to create a character, and performing it for an audience, all within the space of an hour and a half, the time chopped up into entrances and exits--and, of course, the moments between. It was an entire rehearsal and run--a process that normally takes months--in less than two hours. To say it was exhilarating would be an understatement. To say it was daunting would be self-explanatory. To say it was one of the most thrilling experiences I've ever had as an actor would be pointless. Well duh it was.

It's hours later, and I still can't sleep from the adrenaline. I love all the members of this cast that I got to be a part of, even if it was only for a night. I was able to work with people I both respect adore, in a show I didn't think I'd be able to be a part of, reciting some of the most immortal words ever committed to paper, taking part in one of the craziest and most imediate performative processes imaginable.

Nightmare? It was a dream.

And I guarantee that it's the sort of dream that could only happen with Grassroots.


You guys can check out our website, or see a video of last year's Much Ado About Nothing, in which I played two parts at the same time, on Facebook. So much fun.

Father's Day Observation

Dad is one of the greatest drivers who's ever lived.

I don't mean he's the best at going the speed limit or at not running red lights. I drive for an hour on the freeway and get ticketed once for going ten miles over the speed limit, and then again for going five over. Dad drives across the country and back I don't know how many times, and never once has he been ticketed or been in an accident. And he's almost always ten miles over the limit.

It doesn't matter what he does--he can tailgate, speed, run a red light, cut in front of a New York cab driver--if Dad is driving, there is no need to fear.

He doesn't listen to anything, except for the occasional talk radio. You don't need to talk to him to keep him awake. Sometimes he likes a cup of peanuts and M&Ms to snack on. No music. Just Dad and the car and the freeway. He is steady and he is sure.

The car is his poet, and he is its muse.

The Automotive Spirit flows through Dad's veins; he is a driving prophet; the atlas is his scripture.

Eliza Furioso

These are the only photos I took during that entire trip. Pretty sad.

1 Year Old Pictures

July Book Club: A Winner Has Been Named

After a nail-bitingly exciting vote, a winner has been named for the first book of book club.
The Life of Pi, by Yann Martel.

The Life of Pi accepted the nomination graciously:

"I accept your nomination with a deep sense of humility. I accept, too, the responsibility that goes with it, and I seek your continued help and your continued guidance. My fellow Vikings, our cause is too great for any book to feel worthy of it. Our task would be too great for any book, did he not have with him the heart and the hands of the great Vikings of Crooked Lane, and I promise you tonight that every fiber of my being is consecrated to our cause; that nothing shall be lacking from the struggle that can be brought to it by enthusiasm, by devotion, and plain hard work. In this world no person, no book can guarantee anything, but what we can do and what we shall do is to deserve victory, and victory will be ours."

In order to speak, it opened its pages sideways so it looked like a mouth.

Everyone must now start reading this book immediately.

July Book Club

Here are the nominees! Vote in the comments.

2001: a space odyssey, by Arthur C. Clarke (Davey)
The Continuous Atonement, by Brad Wilcox (Mom)
Crock of Gold, by James Stephens (Steve)
Founding Brothers, by Joseph Ellis (Dad)
Howl's Moving Castle, by Dianne Wynne Jones (Bianca)
The Life of Pi, by Yann Martel (Amanda)
Tales of the Jazz Age, by F. Scott Fitzgerald (Matt)

Let's say we each have two votes. We vote for our top two, ranking them, 1st and 2nd. 1st place is worth two points, 2nd is worth one. Just to make it as complicated as possible. You can't vote for your own nominee.

Inaugural Thing

I hereby declare this blog open. Everyone should vote in the book poll so we can read a book.

This will be a delightsome place to share news, photos, recipes, books, talks, ideas, tips, and various/sundry other items of interest.

Welcome all.

Non-Vikings need not apply.