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A life? What's that? The ramblings, rants, and random queries of the Happy Hyper Pest. XD


Alamoraine
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I believe
Alternative Christian (n)- One who considers themself part of the general faith of Christianity, but at the same time refuses to be assimilated into the overall concept of 'religion', seeing it as a binding of free spirit and a means to turn good feeling into hate and fear of the unknown or unusual. These individuals love the Lord with all their heart, but see no need or feel no want for practices such as and not limited to the following: preaching that God hates anyone not conforming to their views in exact detail, condemning gays, bis, transvestites, Muslims, etc, burning or destroying Harry Potter books, denying the existance of or condemning those who believe in such magical entities as faeries, Peter Pan, Santa Claus, The Great Pumpkin, etc. Rather, it is not unheard of for these to actually embrace what would be rejected by their more close-minded kin; that magic could exist, that things such as animals can and do have spirits, that a child's book is a wonderful read and not a gateway to Hell, and that those who are often treated as pariahs ought to be warmly welcomed and accepted for who they are. The resulting balance of such thinking is rare, and often leaves the individual unable to fit fully into either side, resulting in them being their own self-made kind of Christian.
Footnote: Our kind has a guild. If you relate, please drop us a line. We would love to know that there are more of us out there.


: biggrin ANGER: Child Thief spoilers ahead::

How long has it been since I last wrote something in here? Too long I know. XD I usually don't have a need to dump in my journal, but when something causes me to lose sleep and be up and about at the unholy hour of 9 in the morning (on a weekend xd ), I need to cleanse my mind and bare my soul a bit. And I don't know a soul who subscribes to my journal anyway. XP

Yesterday I finished a book; The Child Thief, by an author called Brom. I had begged my fiance to get it for me when I saw it on his website, and I eagerly dug into it feuled by the promise that things that were unclear in the original Peter Pan might be made a bit more clearer in this novel; that possible answers would be put forth to burning questions that I confess I had been curious about. What DID Peter do with the children who 'outgrew' Neverland? How WAS he able to make such young boys able to kill grown men without a second thought to the horror of their actions? I knew the answers this novel provided would be dark, and I was prepared.

What I was not prepared for were the true villains of the story: Christians. According to the story, the true villains, these 'Flesh Eaters', were none other than Old World Christians who sought to cleanse the land of evil and slaughter everything that looked magical or was thought of to be possessed, like the 'Lost Boys' (called the Devils in this novel). Granted, back then the ones who called theselves Christians had a high level of intolerance and hate, but after reading so far and coming to love Peter and his Lady, to hear the Lady say such things as 'this God of peace and love does like to bathe the land in blood'; it cut me deep.

You might think that I'm making a big deal over a mere book, but to me, this story has always been something more. When I was a little girl, I adored Peter Pan. I would leap off of chairs and couches trying to fly, and I would sit up in bed listening for any sign of light feet upon my roof. As I got older, I would leave thimbles on my windowsill and various other symbolic items from the book, in the hope that it would catch Peter's eye and let him know that a believer resided there. I got up on Sundays before the rest of my family to watch Peter Pan and the Pirates, alone and with the volume way down, and for half an hour, it seemed as though it was just me and that magical world. I was a child, happy to stay that way, and Peter Pan was my hero.

Even to this very day, I have clung ever so stubbornly to that one last bit of my childhood. I have the original Peter Pan, Peter Pan in Scarlet (the true-blue official sequel), The Barry/Pearson Trilogy, Capt. Hook, all the Disney Fairies books I can find, and now finally, The Child Thief. I have seen all of the movies and renditions, and could probably bore the average person stupid with Peter Pan trivia. I have heard footsteps on my roof at night when I was in junior high, and in high school, I took a picture of a child's bootprint in the snow on my neighbor's roof, a single print leading nowhere, coming from nowhere, and on the roof of a person whom I knew had no little children. I've never spoken aloud the phrase that is said to kill faeries, and when we saw Peter Pan in the theatres at Christmas, I took advantage of the booming acoustics to enthusiastically join the chant of, "I do believe in faeries! I do! I do!"

Call me odd or sick or what have you; it doesn't matter to me. But I believe. For as long as I can remember, I believe. I think that somewhere out there, in a place that can only be reached by either a hard and circumstantial voyage or an invitation from one of the inhabitants, there lies an island where time stands still, where the last remnants of magical creatures gather to live in peace, where natives who disliked the coming of the pilgrims sought refuge, knowing of the dark days to follow should they stay. And I believe that somewhere out there, there is an elusive, impish little boy who somehow beat the odds and remained forever young, bringing a select few along for the ride, for as long as they could hold on.

But how does a Christian take such a belief and be able to cling to it so? Are not all forms of magic evil? What about faeries, the devil's little butterflies? Furthermore, how can someone believe in such an impossible thing? Well, is not the very essence of faith believeing in something that cannot be proven? Is it so wrong to believe that a certain aura exists within all living things, be they trees or animals or even rocks, that could be defined as magic? Can you deny that there is magic in a child's laugh, in a field of vibrant and fragrant wildflowers, or in the feeling that comes from knowing true friendship and love? And that it just might exist in droves on an island where those who seek refuge from an unkind world gather? I find myself believeing that the early Indians, the ones that 'civilized' people called savages, were far closer to all things spiritual than we could ever hope to be, because they had that harmony, that belief that everything had a soul and should be treated with honor and respect. I count myself infinitely fortunate to have Cherokee blood, be it ever so small a percentage.

That was why it grieved me so to have us be the villains of the story, to kill and eat pixies, perform exorcisms on 'posessed' children by drowning and burning them, and roping the Lady herself, the very heartbeat of the magical island, in order to take her to 'holy ground' and sacrifice her to 'the good Lord'. In the end she lived, and I cried happy tears, but they turned to sad tears when she left to restore the island, telling Peter coldly that there was nothing more any of them could do for our kind. It saddened me to think that we behaved so badly, even in a storybook, that this creature who governed a paradise and before welcomed those Peter brought in, would give us all up as intolerant beings left to stew in our own muck.

I really shouldn't care; after all, she is not part of the story that I believe in wholeheartedly, but I would like to think that when it comes to knowing and understanding others who are different, who do things differently and sometimes in ways we may not agree on, we might still be able to learn to live together in relative peace, even us 'intolerant' Christians. I cannot help but think, as young Nick did in the book, how differently things might have been if both the faerie folk and the humans had just been willing to sit down and talk things through. We all have so much to learn, and I refuse to let rules of religion govern what I can and cannot learn from others. I say this as a passionate statement to any who might be listening. Not all of us see devils behind every bush or think anything that has horns or pointy ears is a demon. We don't all shy away from the concept of magic or see that concept as an absolute evil. We don't all seek to burn enchanted gardens, slaughter magical creatures, or rejoice in the death of those deemed ungodly. Some of us remember that the One we follow is truly a God of love, and he accepts anyone and everyone, and just might have, all those long years ago, created little beings with wings. Some of His messengers have just forgotten, the way Peter so often forgets.

I still think it's a wonderful book; it's a great fantasy novel, and quite graphic in a Lord of the Flies kind of way, but as a Peter Pan story.... One of the writers who praised it said it made you want to believe, but I had that already from the original tale. And I stand firm when I say that despite the author's end notes, Peter Pan is no child of the Devil. The original even says that when children die, he goes with them part of the way, so they will not be frightened. Even with his dark undertones, a devil would certainly not be given such a task.

Nevertheless, I am glad to have experienced it, and to me Peter was, is, and always will be, that impish child who I looked up to and was able to do what I had always wanted to do; stay young forever. I believe in you. I believe.






User Comments: [1]
Ishtanballa
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comment Commented on: Thu Nov 05, 2009 @ 12:28am
You can't forget the Captain in the story Raine. It was true that he wasn't fully innocent, and that he still had his prejudices. But he at least attempted to see beyond his mask and desired to help the children.

And for Peter, he wasn't a devil. He was driven to do what he did due to the enchantment the Lady of the Lake had placed upon him. He saw all the sacrifices as worth it, that their lives paled in comparison to the lady. But in the end, when the blood of the Horned One awoke within him, that spell was broken. And due to Nick, he could see the true price, and it weighed on him.

And really, outside of the bloodshed, I quite enjoyed Brom's Peter. He was a wild boy, and that's how I think Peter should be. Wild, and untamed.


User Comments: [1]
 
 
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