Lost Lands
Beyond the idea of north, beyond the cold and the deep ice and the Arctic glare, is Hyperborea. This is what the ancient Greeks believed; for every natural phenomen to them concealed a secret of grave import or of happy provenance.
Beyond the idea of west, beyond the lions and the magic and the broken lands, is Eden. This is what the ancient Hebrews believed; for we read that an angel with a flaming swords stands between Eden and the lands east of it.
Beyond the idea of south, beyond the heat and the danger and the desert wastes, is Paradise. This is what the Romans who conquered their known world believed. It is their descendants who sought Prester John.
Beyond the idea of east, beyond the phoemix and the nomads and the hidden ways, is Xanadu. This is what the benighted heathens of the West believed, who heard of Kublai and did not believe.
There are two things here. The first is that there are barriers between us and what we think we seek; the second is that we are inclined to breach those barriers. But what if those barriers are there to protect us? What if those barriers are there to test our ability to rein in our transcendent tendencies? And what if those barriers are there to save others from us?
C S Lewis once described the ethical dilemma of space: we might encounter beings without souls, who therefore cannot fall; we might encounter the fallen and unredeemed, or the fallen and redeemed – these we are unlikely to harm by the fact of our existence. We might even be the agents of redemption to the fallen. But the other side is that we might be the agents of temptation to those fallible but unfallen, the test of their spiritual destiny.
It would be hard indeed to know that all these hidden lands, these lost lands, are not for us, but for those who survive us. How bitter, how terrible, that day of knowledge.
Beyond the idea of west, beyond the lions and the magic and the broken lands, is Eden. This is what the ancient Hebrews believed; for we read that an angel with a flaming swords stands between Eden and the lands east of it.
Beyond the idea of south, beyond the heat and the danger and the desert wastes, is Paradise. This is what the Romans who conquered their known world believed. It is their descendants who sought Prester John.
Beyond the idea of east, beyond the phoemix and the nomads and the hidden ways, is Xanadu. This is what the benighted heathens of the West believed, who heard of Kublai and did not believe.
There are two things here. The first is that there are barriers between us and what we think we seek; the second is that we are inclined to breach those barriers. But what if those barriers are there to protect us? What if those barriers are there to test our ability to rein in our transcendent tendencies? And what if those barriers are there to save others from us?
C S Lewis once described the ethical dilemma of space: we might encounter beings without souls, who therefore cannot fall; we might encounter the fallen and unredeemed, or the fallen and redeemed – these we are unlikely to harm by the fact of our existence. We might even be the agents of redemption to the fallen. But the other side is that we might be the agents of temptation to those fallible but unfallen, the test of their spiritual destiny.
It would be hard indeed to know that all these hidden lands, these lost lands, are not for us, but for those who survive us. How bitter, how terrible, that day of knowledge.
Labels: Evil, Good, Reflection
etched with acid at 11:44:00 am
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