Guest Essay:”Dumbledore as Christian Mystic” or “Ms. Rowling meets Evelyn Underhill”

by John on July 11, 2007

I am hard at work on my Enlightening 2007 presentation and distracted by thoughts about Tale of Two Cities which normally would mean a day without a HogPro update. Today, though, it means a special treat, namely an essay by Sally Palmer. You’ll recall that Ms. Palmer pointed me to Florence and Machiavelli for a possible clue about Severus Snape’s motivation. Here she discusses another neglected influence, Evelyn Underhill, and what this writer might tell us about another major character, Albus Dumbledore. Enjoy!

PS: If you have sent me an essay for comment or posting and I have not responded or posted it, please re-send. I am working on three different computers in three different geographical locations — and the cracks through which valuable things are falling are becoming something like canyons. My apologies.

Dumbledore as Christian Mystic: The Head Master who undermines postmodernism and other “mystical mistakes”

By Sally Palmer

July 10, 2007

Over the past few months, I have made several forays into brief studies on the people to whom “Devotion Days” are dedicated on my Episcopal Churchman’s Ordo Kalendar. June 15th was dedicated to someone I’d never heard of, Evelyn Underhill, an English woman (1875-1941), student of ancient mysticism, and –eventually – Anglican spiritual director. So I googled her & found this website:

http://www.evelynunderhill.org/

What I read on the site completely fascinated me. Since then I have checked out her 1990 biography, Artist of the Infinite Life by Dana Greene (the EU Association president), and Underhill’s revised 12th edition (published in 1930) of her original 1911 study, Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Man’s Spiritual Consciousness. I believe that this study of the mystical, or “God-seeking,” tradition by Evelyn Underhill is a major source of Ms. Rowling’s inspiration for the structure & symbolism of Harry’s story, as well as the boundaries of magic in Harry’s world, including the “essence” of Dumbledore’s character and the expression of Voldemort’s brokeness. In this book, Evelyn Underhill traces the mystic tradition across centuries, cultures, & religious traditions, right up to the emerging Modern time in which she was writing.

Three of the five “keys” John Granger provides for his readers in Unlocking Harry Potter (alchemy, hero’s journey, and traditional symbolism), originating – as he points out — from all sorts of texts, are captured in Mysticism, and in one chapter in particular, “Mysticism and Symbolism.” In this chapter, Ms. Underhill covers what she calls the “three great classes of symbols” that appeal to the “three deep cravings of the self… which only mystic truth can fully satisfy.” The first symbol is the pilgrim’s quest, representing the longing to leave a “normal world” in search of a “lost home.” The second symbol is marriage, for the craving “of the soul for its perfect mate,” and the third symbol is that of the alchemist’s work, the “craving for inward purity and perfection.”

Following this chapter on symbolism is one entitled “Mysticism and Magic.” In this chapter she outlines the similarities, yet distinct and dramatic differences, between magic as occult practice and mysticism, including the mystic elements of religious traditions. Reading her biography alongside this chapter, in particular, helps put the work in context because she was writing at a time of growing societal interest in the “new science” of psychology, among other Modern developments, including a resurgent interest in the occult, and the eventual rise of fascism and Nazism.

There are fabulous passages throughout this chapter that generally concur with Ms. Rowling’s employment of magic in Harry’s world. Ms. Underhill criticizes a definition about magical practice which asserts itself as assisting in “transcending the phenomenal world and attaining to the reality which is behind phenomena.” She says this definition “presents magic as a pathway to reality; a promise which it cannot fulfil, for the mere transcending of phenomena does not entail the attainment of the Absolute. Magic even at its best extends rather than escapes the boundaries of the phenomenal world. It stands, where genuine, for that form of transcendentalism which does abnormal things, but does not lead anywhere…The true “science of ultimates” must be a science of pure Being…”

A funny passage on word usage also coincides with Ms. Rowling’s apparent take on magic versus true mysticism, or God-seeking: “The word ‘magic’ is out of fashion, though its spirit was never more widely diffused than at the present time. Thanks to the gradual debasement of the verbal currency, it suggests to the ordinary reader the production of optical illusions and other parlour tricks. It has dragged with it in its fall the terrific verb ‘to conjure,’ which, forgetting that it once undertook to compel the spirits of men and angels, is now content to produce rabbits from top-hats. These facts would have little importance, were it not that modern occultists—annoyed, one supposes, by this abuse of their ancient title – constantly arrogate to their tenets and practices the name of ‘Mystical Science.’”

In an earlier chapter on the “Characteristics of Mysticism” she goes on to call magic “the intellectual, aggressive, and scientific temperament trying to extend its field of consciousness, until it includes the supersensual world: obviously the antithesis of mysticism, though often adopting its title and style.” Moving back to the “Mysticism and Magic” chapter, Ms. Underhill also says, “we are likely to fall victims to some kind of magic the moment that the declaration ‘I want to know’ ousts the declaration ‘I want to be’ from the chief place in our consciousness.”

To me, Ms. Rowling very clearly points to this distinction between mysticism and magic with Dumbledore’s lectures to Voldemort about his ignorance of some forms of magic. Voldemort used magic to split his soul; he thus “transcends” certain phenomena, but it is not a “pathway to reality” because “transcending of phenomena does not entail the attainment of the Absolute.” Dumbledore, who knows well the “science of ultimates” and the power of Love, knows Voldemort’s dependence on this magic to be his greatest weakness. Voldemort, who does not know love, embodies the “aggressive temperament trying to extend its field of consciousness, until it includes the supersensual world” and is “obviously the antithesis of mysticism.”

You see that aggressiveness and powerlust in the boy Tom Riddle in the orphanage. He immediately embraces his “wizardness” as a means of knowing. “I knew I was different…I knew I was special…I always knew there was something.” Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of his age, could also be described as the greatest mystic, one who fully understands magic as “that form of transcendentalism which does abnormal things but does not lead anywhere” while grasping the true path as one of self-purification in the loving pursuit of Love. Dumbledore’s training of his primary student, Harry, is a training in the mystic way. A training that starts off, interestingly enough in Stone, with Harry feeling there is some mistake, “I don’t think I can be a wizard.” (emphasis added) As the story progress, Harry does embrace his “wizardness” as a way of being, becoming a Dumbledore-man following Dumbledore’s path.

It’s important to point out here that, at the time of first writing Mysticism, Ms. Underhill was not a member of a faith community, although she was baptized and confirmed as an Anglican and had close friends and advisors who were Protestants and Roman Catholics. She was attracted to Roman Catholicism, but ultimately could not join the Catholic Church due to its rejection of rising modern intellectualism. Her favorite mystics where those in the Medieval Catholic or Christian Neoplatonist tradition, and in her later work as an Anglican spiritual director tries to merge her original thinking on the mystic tradition with a newer emphasis on the importance of corporate religion and theology in supporting spiritual development. Throughout her life, she struggled with her intellectual (and emotional) tendencies and how they interfered with her own spiritual development. She also wrote on her struggles with Christocentric worship, describing how she came to Christ through seeking God, and not the other way around – which seems the usual path for most Christian believers (all these insights are from Greene, 1990).

Reading Evelyn Underhill’s biography is, to me, reading the story of a person who sees and struggles with the dark side of the rising Modern Metanarrative, at the same time struggling to find a path of orderly spiritual development, while symbolically rich, not constrained by its own Metanarrative dogma. In that context, Ms. Underhill describes mysticism as “the name of that organic process which involves the perfect consummation of the Love of God: the achievement here and now of the immortal heritage of man. Or, if you like it better – for this means exactly the same thing – it is the art of establishing his conscious relation with the Absolute.” The mystic path, as described here by Ms. Underhill is an act of love in search of absolute Love, and it is not subject to the theology of a specific religious tradition.

This seeming lack of religious tradition, having instead the focus aimed at a quest for Love, is reflected in Ms. Rowling’s approach to Harry’s story. No religious tradition is specifically mentioned – except for Christmas and Easter holidays – nor is God or Christ, outside the use of the words “godfather” and “christening.” However, just as Ms. Underhill is an English modern writer influenced by Christian theology and symbology, so is Ms. Rowling an English postmodern writer influenced by Christian theology and symbology, and the Medieval and Renaissance periods of history, in particular. And, as John Granger has discussed at length, the use of traditional symbolism makes Ms. Rowling a “postmodern realist.” After reading about Evelyn Underhill and her work, I think she might be a “modern realist” precursor to Ms. Rowling (if there could be such a thing, linguistically speaking!).

Linguistics and postmodernism bring me back to Dumbledore’s character. In his treatment of the postmodern elements of Harry’s story, John Granger reserves a whole section for “A Few Words About Dumbledore.” In this chapter, John describes many of Dumbledore’s traits – “penetrating intelligence,” “discerns signs of the times,” “attacks core problems,” de-constructor of texts, “music lover,” “indifference to conformity to standards,” “student of his own thoughts,” and “careful of his influence over others.” These characteristics, John argues, makes Dumbledore “the very model of a postmodern English gentleman,” an “archetype of postmodernism,” and “a heroic linguistics professor.”

After reading Evelyn Underhill’s chapter on “The Characteristics of Mysticism,” I would add on to John’s characterization by saying that these very traits also make Dumbledore a mystic. And in the context of John’s discussion of postmodernism and Ms. Rowling’s subversion of its tenets, I find completely fascinating that the character who carries the single transcendent message of the story and works – in his own “detached” way – diligently to transfer that message to his main student, is at his very essence a mystic. Dumbledore is of this world, yet detached from it, he is courteous yet stands alone in his wisdom and vision, he loves beauty and harmony, he emphasizes the purity of the soul, and his message of the power of self-sacrificial Love transcends time.

Like the traditional Christian symbolism used throughout Harry’s story, I think Dumbledore’s emphasis on Love and, especially self-sacrificial love, point directly to his place in the Christian mystic tradition that transcends time, historical, and socio-political boundaries. Or, I should say, Dumbledore is a reflection of that tradition in a fictional world. To me this is the real power of Dumbledore’s character, his teaching, and his (via Ms. Rowling’s) approach to “magic.”

In Unlocking Harry Potter, John summarizes this power in Key Five: Postmodernism on its Head in sections entitled “Transcendent Postmodern,” “Alchemy as Antidote to Postmodernism” and “Why We Love Harry.” I would add to these descriptions simply that they are all pointers to transcendent Christian mystical experience.

This brings me, in closing, back to my previous comparison of Evelyn Underhill as a spiritual seeker battling the Modern Great narrative to J.K. Rowling as a spiritual seeker battling the Postmodern Great narrative(s). For the first half of her life, Evelyn Underhill was intensely interested in seeking God (the Absolute Reality of Love), but viewed the Catholic church’s attacks on modern intellectualism as a barrier to her ever participating in the Roman church. Later in life, Ms. Underhill felt “called out and settled” in the Anglican church and continued her life’s work of “caring for souls” in that tradition (Greene 1990).

John points out that Ms. Rowling spares the Christian Church (and all religions) from the skewering she give other institutions, with the high irony being that certain subgroups in the Christian faith have become some of her harshest critics with concerns regarding the “promotion of the occult” and the “subversion of all authority.” John describes his worry about this criticism: “I wonder if the conservative reaction to postmodern liberalism and godlessness has not erred in embracing modern, “structuralist,” authoritarian thinking about church and state that are ideologies alien to radical faith in Christ.”

I very much share this concern, and I think reflection on Evelyn Underhill’s work and life in the Modern era allows for lessons to be learned about the dangers of such a theological reaction to Harry and how it can exclude those actively seeking, yet currently remaining outside a Christian faith journey. Harry’s story, and at its center Dumbledore’s mystic teaching of sacrificial love, do undermine many of the excesses of our Postmodern era. This transcendent message is the message with the power to overcome our current intellectual, bodily, & spiritual excesses. It is the hope missing from our secular world and in desperate need of return. It is the quest and Reality described for us and lived by the great Christian mystics.

Finally, in her biography on Ms. Underhill, Dana Greene posits that one of the central themes of Evelyn’s life is that she re-defined what it meant to be a religious person in her time. At the close of Half Blood Prince, Harry has officially taken up Dumbledore’s mantle. In Deathly Hallows we will see how Harry moves forward along his own mystical path and become witnesses in our own rights to this final chapter in his 7-year journey. What will we as postmodern readers, and especially those of us Christian postmodern readers, choose to see?

{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }

Travis Prinzi July 12, 2007 at 5:00 am

Sally, brilliant essay! This is great work on Dumbledore.

John is correct to point out the irony that fundamentalist Christians are falling back on a modernist (and anti-Christian!) framework in their critique of Rowling’s work. Sadly, this essay would do little to persuade them of this point, as they’d be every bit as suspicious of any reference to “mysticism” as they are of Potter.

I’m wondering if you can expound on what you mean by “Postmodern Great narrative(s).” Postmodernism, in its “purest” (for lack of a better word) form, defies being defined as a “great narrative.” Certainly, in many discussions and in popular usage, it’s become just as much of an “ism” as anything else. That’s what happens, I guess, when minds that are raised and trained in structuralism get a hold of a new “ism,” even when, ironically, that “ism” is against being an “ism.”

It seems to me that according to Lyotard’s definition, it’s impossible for postmodernism, in itself, to be a “Great Narrative,” or even “Great narratives.”

Coppinger Bailey July 13, 2007 at 8:39 am

Hi Travis,

Thanks very much for your kind words. I am very flattered that you’ve put a link to this essay on your website.

Before I answer your question, I did want to say to everyone that if anything in my essay resonates with you, please make the effort to read Dana Greene’s 1990 biography of Evelyn, “Artist of the Infinite Life,” and Evelyn’s “Mysticism.” You will be the richer for it.

This recommendation, by the way, also applies to folks who read my essay and feel this kind of stuff is just self-righteous over- (or under) intellectualized hooey, and that those of us who engage in guesswork about Ms. Rowling’s source material are self-indulgent fools. Fine. I plead guilty. But if it bugs you, go read Evelyn’s stuff for yourself and even the criticims of Evelyn’s work Dana Greene references in her bibliography. I am certainly no great student of mysticism, theology or religious tradition; don’t take my word for it.

Back to Travis’s question – you caught me being cute and lazy in ripping off one of John’s ideas. Or it may be N.T. Wright I’m thinking about, because I’m on to reading him. Sorry. Anyway, your point about there being no “great narrative” in postmodernism. Well, that there is NO great narrative is postmodernism’s own great narrative. It’s this ironic, self-fulfilling prophecy of the tendency to deconstruct everything. The mind run amok.

I stuck an parenthetical “s” on “narrative(s)” because the other thing that deconstruction”ism” does is break everything down into pieces. Everything & everyone has its own story or narrative. Well, yes, we do – and John has talked about how Modernism (with it’s paternalistic leanings, in particular) has crushed other narratives in its wake. Postmodernism celebrates this plurality of narratives. But it misses the boat because it cannot allow the pluralities to be expressed under the guise of a larger “purpose” or Reality, because apparently no such thing exisits.

In smashing that “s” on there, I was trying to be cute and point out the “many stories but no story” irony. I also (maybe obviously) have not thought about this stuff for very long, and I am ignorant of Lyotard’s definition. So I’m sorry if my explanation here still misses the mark. Just chalk it up to my still having a long way to go on this topic.

Thanks again,
Sally

DnKevin July 13, 2007 at 2:59 pm

Sally,
This reminds me of a paper I wrote for a class (the name of the class was Satanism, Witchcraft, and Spirit Possession) on the difference between Hermetic Magic and Christian Thaumaturgy (wonder-working) which comes down to the difference between the Magus and the Mystic. Underhill’s book was a major influence and source as were the ancient grimoires of Hermetic Magic (chilling stuff). I actually used one of the quotes you did (“we are likely to fall victims to some kind of magic…”) This is really what it all comes down to: the Magus seeks to impose his will on the perceptible reality around him. The Mystic knows that he must deny himself, and his will, and pick up his cross. In the Eastern tradition, we would say the Mystic is on the path of Theosis. And Rowling’s depiction of Magic in its true sense is “mystical” as opposed to “magical” in a historical sense. Having said all this, and not to demean anyone, Underhill’s book should be read with a certain bit of caution. Underhill says some wonderful things, and has good insights, but if read by someone not already firm in some sort of spiritual grounding, it could be a bit dangerous.

John,
You had mentioned in an earlier post on M!Snape, I believe that Rowling was influenced (not sure if that’s the correct term) by Italian Hermetic Magic. I was suggest that this is not the case, at least as I understand Medieval Hermetic Magic which is based on the Clavicus Salamonis and other spurious texts. You’ve written about the difference between “invocational” and “evocational” magic in your book, Finding God in Harry Potter. Mediaeval Hermetic Magic, at least according to the Magi themselves, is strictly evocational. As I said, it’s chilling stuff. There’s a book by Arthur Waite called, The Book of Black Magic and Ceremonial Magic (if you can censor this name, it would be wise as this is not a book to be recommended to those without a firm spiritual foundation) that is a good overall picture of Hermetic Magi. If you would like, I could loan you my copy.

On other things, I’m going through the series again, and also Florensky’s book called Iconostasis. It talks a bit about symbolism, and what makes true art. John, have you read this? I highly recommend to all our Eastern leaning Christian friends. It might yield even more in our efforts to understand why the Potter books are so good.

Happy Reading, and God bless,
Dn Kevin

DnKevin July 13, 2007 at 3:02 pm

I need to correct something from my previous post. Hermetic Magic in the grimoires and as practice by Hermetic Magi at least since the 15th century is strictly “invocational” not “evocational.” Lots of terms, so I got mixed up a bit.

Dn Kevin

Travis Prinzi July 13, 2007 at 4:55 pm

Sally,

Thanks for your reply. I’ll admit to being fairly new to this as well.

I love N.T. Wright. I’m not entirely sure he gets postmodernism, though much of his critique, especially as we read it in Simply Christian and Evil and the Justice of God is worth good, solid consideration. Ultimately, he (and you) are correct: postmodernism does not ultimately solve the problems of modernism.

Where I’m unclear about postmodernism and the way it gets tossed about is here: I’m not certain that postmodernism can be pinned down on the charge of hypocrisy for being its own “Grand Narrative” when it is against “Grand Narratives.” The reason I say this is that Lyotard’s definition, which I’m taking here as the standard for postmodernism, specifically critiques the Enlightenment Project, the modern, rationalistic, naturalistic view that there is an objective truth to be obtained by the rational mind of all human beings that will lead to the universal and unlimited peace and happiness of humankind. The metanarrative is not a belief in universal absolute truth, and postmodernism the antithesis of that (no absolute truth, all is relative, etc.). Rather, the metanarrative is the story used to legitimize and reinforce the self and the power structures to which one belongs. As Justin Holcomb wrote over at Common Grounds Online:

“A metanarrative is not simply a big-story, but a big-story that legitimates autonomous humanity. The problem postmodernists have is that they have not seen a narrative do anything else but legitimate itself and lead to an oppressive universality that totalizes. The reason postmoderns challenge metanarratives is because metanarratives are simply human constructs.”

So it’s not necessarily the case that “modernism” is big stories and “postmodernism” is little stories (though this is what it often practically looks like).

So I guess the question I’m wrestling with is this: Is Postmodernism really its own great narrative? Or is it a critique of great narratives with intent to start a different discussion altogether, one that moves us away from oppressive narratives that only serve to legitimize existing, unjust power structures?

I’m not sure where I’m going with this….I’m afraid I’ve just rambled for a bit, and actually taken us quite a ways off topic! I guess the phrase just hit me funny, and I took us on a tangent. It’s all linked to Harry in my mind right now because I’m putting together a presentation for Prophecy 2007 on Dumbledore as Deconstructor.

esoterica1693 July 14, 2007 at 2:31 pm

Other similarities between Dumbledore and Underhill’s description of mystics: his childlikeness and his love of music. At the close of her chapter on the Unitive Life Underhill talks about how the spiritual outpouring of Union is often found in joyful song and poetry (pp 438-443, Underhill, _Mysticism_, Doubleday 12/e).

Underhill writes: “that fruition of joy…is often realized in the secret experience of those same mystics as the perennial possession of a childlike gaity, and inextinguishable gladness of heart. The transfigured souls move to the measures of a ‘love dance’ which persists in mirth w/o comparison, through every outward hardship and tribulation. They enjoy the high spirits peculiar to high spirituality; and shock the world by a delicate playfulness, instead of exhibiting the morose resignation which it [the world] feels to be proper to the ‘spiritual life.’ ” Op cit, 438-440.

I give to you….Albus Dumbledore!

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