At the Back of the North Wind.1st

George MacDonald:  At the Back of the North Wind.  First Session

MacDonald is undertaking an astounding task in this famous myth:  he is purposing to instill within a child's mind a fully Biblical set of attitudes towards all trials and adversities in life, including death.

But first, some introductory remarks:  I do recommend the recently published Anamchara edition.  A remarkable number of variations do occur in the older texts; this one cautiously updates the language, removing diction that strikes the contemporary reader as curious, while very faithfully maintaining--in fact, I think strengthening--the mythic impact of the text.

The work is splendidly mythic.  By that I mean that the images stretch the imagination to glimpse eternal truths, truths that are larger than the rational mind is able fully to express.

These are truths of the heart, not simply of the head.  Truths of the head--by that I mean the sort of doctrinal truths that are presented in the great creeds of the Church--are of course of vital importance.  But it is tragically possible to have a precise grasp of doctrinal realities in the head but not allow them residence in the heart.

Truths of the heart are simple, they are readily held or rejected, and they are available to all peoples.  They alone matter; they define a person.  As a person thinks in his heart, so is he.  An exhaustive concordance of Scripture will contain multiple columns of references to the heart, whereas there are only a comparative few references to the mind as such.

One other introductory remark:  Any worthwhile children's story is a story for adults as well.  C. S. Lewis vehemently denies--in his essays on writing for children--that he set out to write for children.  He insists that he wrote the Narnia stories as he did because he could say in a children's story what he could not say nearly so well in any other form.  It is an enticing challenge to consider as you read precisely what MacDonald is able to say in At the Back of the North Wind that he could only have said in the precise form he chose.

It is necessary, in order fully to appreciate a children's story, that the adult reader try to recreate a child's mentality, and receive the narration and the images as a person did, say, at five or six years of age.  I can remember an uncle telling me when I was that age, "If you want to catch a bird, the best way to do it is to put salt on his tail."  At the time I thought that no doubt was reliable advice.  It is that sort of innocence and credulity one should try to maintain as one reads.  The story is not a puzzle to be solved; it is a tale to be received by a fully open and committed imagination.  Let the mythic truths sneak in, as it were, quietly, through the back door.    

Now to the text itself.  As I remarked above, MacDonald is undertaking in this story to instill within a child's mind a fully Biblical set of attitudes towards all adversities in life, from the small aggravations all the way to death itself.  It is consistently the case with MacDonald that he had Biblical truths solidly in mind as he wrote.  Those that pertain to this tale are startling.  James, for instance, begins his book by advising:  "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete. . . (1:2-4, NIV).  Paul writes:  ". . . we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint . . . ." (Rom. 5:3-5, NIV).  Peter says something very similar in his first epistle, as does the writer of the Book of Hebrews.  Anyone who seriously tries to implement these admonitions in daily life faces a challenging task.  How does one instill such truths in the mind of a child?  To contemplate that is to come into a fuller appreciation of MacDonald's undertaking.

Diamond has many lessons to learn, most all of which orchestrate the archetypal fact that in all of life appearances mask an underlying reality, a Reality that is gloriously benign.  A trusting relation to North Wind is the basic requirement for Diamond coming into a knowledge of that reality:  "You will be much the better for it.  Just believe what I say, and do as I tell you" (12).  When she reminds him at their first meeting that "knowing a person's name isn't the same as knowing a person's real self" (13), she is initiating the appearance/reality theme:  a person's outward appearance is one thing, the nature of the "real self" within is quite another.

At the end of Chapter One North Wind gives the implications of the theme she wants to instill in  Diamond:   the appearances of her activities may be ugly, but they are necessary for her basic aim:  to make "ugly things beautiful."  She counsels:  ". . . my hand will never change in yours if you hold on tight. If you hold on, you will know who I am even if you look at me and I look like something awful instead of like the North Wind." A great deal of theological truth is contained in this simple statement.  One may think of Heb. 12:11:  For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant; later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it."

North Wind bids Diamond follow him, but when he obeys by going outside into Coleman's garden, he cannot find her.  Deeply disappointed, he retreats, feeling she has not kept her word.  But later he is told she really was there--in the breeze that gently moved the primroses.  He must learn that North Wind comes in many forms, some quite mild.  If a mild adversity can accomplish its purpose, there is no need for a stronger one.   But he does discover that by far the wisest response when a wind is blowing is to keep it at one's back (20).  The image suggests the wisdom of submissively responding to whatever life offers--"rolling with the blow"--rather than rebelling against and resisting that which is beyond one's control.

But Diamond is strongly tempted to dismiss these initial nocturnal encounters with North Wind as only dreams;  that is, they have no reality in the material world of everyday life. North Wind, however, keeps coming to him, and, as he does what she tells him to, his confidence in her reality steadily grows.

Each succeeding visit North Wind makes reinforces in Diamond's mind the necessity for absolute trust in the face of the most dire appearances, confident that they have a good purpose.  In Chapter 3, she tells him she has "unpleasant work tonight," and takes him with her as she appears as a wolf to a nurse who is mistreating a child, terrifying her and causing her to fall.  Frightened himself when he hears the sound of the nurse falling, Diamond suspects North Wind of cruelty:  "I hope you haven'st eaten a baby," he seriously remarks, to which she replies:  "No, I didn't eat a baby.  You wouldn't have had to ask that silly question if you hadn't let go of me."

Chapter 3 closes with MacDonald affirming a principle that recurs often in his writings:  People are incapable of seeing more good that their natures allow them to see.  North Wind explains that the nurse saw her as a wolf because of her evil nature:  "The woman wouldn't have seen me either if she had been good. . . . Why should you see things that you wouldn't understand?  Good people see good things:  bad people, bad things. . . . I had to make myself look like a bad thing before she could see me."  The Biblical principle MacDonald has in mind is given in Psalms 18, 25, 26.  "With the loyal thou dost show thyself loyal; with the blameless man thou dost show thyself blameless; with the pure thou dost show thyself pure; and with the crooked thou dost show thyself perverse."