Art Book Review: Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle

I just finished reading Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith & Art by Madeleine L'Engle. She is also the author of A Wrinkle in Time. This was the second art book recommended to me by my friend Miriam. The first was Scribbling in the Sand by Michael Card, which was great, so when she told me I would enjoy this one even more, I couldn't wait to check it out. I got it from the library, though I now wish I had bought it so I could mark it up. It will be one of the few books that I re-read.

I'll give the same disclaimer that Miriam gave me: there is a bit of off beat theology woven through, but for the most part this can be discarded and the beauty of her thoughts on art more than make up for the odd comment here and there.

While reading, I had to constantly remind myself that L-Engle is a writer and not a painter. I've read books on writing, but none have been like this one. Her thoughts apply so broadly to all forms of art, and yet so deeply to art itself, that I think anyone who does any type of creative work would feel it was written specifically for their medium.

Warning: weird art talk will follow...

It's hard for me to even narrow down what to quote from this book because she hits on so many good topics. Her treatment of time is interesting, and something that is apparently woven through her literary works. I think all artists know the beauty and danger of being "lost" in their creative pursuits while more time passes than they realize. She sees this experience as a transcendence into a completely separate kairos time, almost escaping from the chronos that we normally live in. "The artist at work is in kairos. The child at play, totally thrown outside himself in the game, be it building a sandcastle or making a daisy chain, is in kairos"

L'Engle believes art is a spiritual experience and therefore every aspect of its creation is otherworldly. That may sound weird, but it is a sentiment shared by most of the Christian, and even some non-Christian artists that I have heard describe their work. I saw an interview with Bono in which he talked about songwriting being a process more akin to hearing than creating. I've heard Edwin McCain talk about being "stewarded" a song, feeling as though it wasn't from him or belonging to him even though he wrote it.

L'Engle says that when people ask her if her faith informs her art she tells them that her art informs her faith. This may sound heretical, especially to the non-artist, but I think it is something really powerful for creatives. We all, whether masters or students, seem to have the sense that the art we produce didn't come from us. We seem to be more the instruments used to bring the ideal into material rather than being the creators of anything. For me, the acts of drawing, painting, and writing are a proof to me that a being much more creative than me is out there and working through us and our material world to communicate truth about himself. It is, for me, the most tangible proof of God's existence.

L'Engle, also like Bono, believes that all art made by Christians is Christian art, and that we need not limit art to cliche Christian topics or to see art as utilitarian and only useful for church bulletins. None of those things are bad, but she challenges us to see the work of creativity itself as a spiritual experience, and therefore to break down the walls between "Christian" and "secular" art. She argues that it makes no difference whether the artist is a Christian. "Good art" speaks to the glory of God no matter who produces it and "bad art" is unacceptable even if it deals with a Christian subject. This view, combined with the idea that each piece of art is a gift from God, and not just the ability to produce art, frees the artist to make whatever pieces he feels are given to him instead of keeping them within the confines of what is labeled "Christian." It also challenges the artist to take his craft seriously and work hard to the glory of God.

I could go on and on, but if anyone actually found this interesting enough to make it through this whole post, it would probably just be better for you to read this book. :-)