Books
Review of Elissa Elliott’s Novel: Eve
by Jeff Miller
The RPC book group has recently taken two weeks for a specific and unique task. We were asked to read and review a forthcoming book called Eve by Elissa Elliott. As a framework, the author had wanted to get an impression of the book from the perspective of religious readers. The comments I will offer here are a compilation of group members’ thoughts, ideas and impressions, hopefully presented in a cohesive and clear manner.
Using Eve (or any Biblical person) as the subject of a novel is a dicey proposition in itself. Indeed, any historical fiction runs the risk of becoming a documentary, a propaganda piece or a piece of fantasy with only a remnant of truth. Biblical fiction has those same problems, but also has issues concerning theology in its purest sense- what it says about God. The writer is faced with myriad decisions about how much and in what ways they should expand on Scripture in order to tell a story. Inherent in these decisions is the underlying worldview of the author. As an example, for some it matters greatly that anything that God says in their work be consistent with His character shown in all of Scripture. For others, it matters not as long as the story is coherent or interesting or marketable, depending on their priority. More on this later…
Another risky proposition is the novel’s structure. This novel is told in narrative by Eve and her daughters. Much of it is told in flashback/memory style late in Eve’s life and it is more of a familial diary than anything else. The author shifted very smoothly between speakers and her dialogue was generally very fluid as well. The only negative comment on this score is that the story could have perhaps been just as thoroughly explored in 200 -250 pages, rather than roughly 400.
Considering these things as well as the fact that this is Elliott’s first published novel, she is to be given high marks for even taking it on. It would have been much less risky to have set a different family of women characters and tell much the same story since most of the action is centered on the women’s relationships and interaction. As it is, Eve comes across as an Oprah-esque everywoman in a tale of a very dysfunctional family. Herein lies the problem. Stylistically, the group generally appreciated what was written. We had much more discussion regarding content.
As a piece of framework, none of us expected at the outset for this to be a novel that would necessarily reflect our theological distinctives. We didn’t know where the author would be in these matters. While we didn’t expect these things, we did find it difficult that a novel based on a person from Scripture struggled to stick closely to the Biblical narrative or orthodox Judeo-Christian teaching from the past 2000 years.
The biggest single problem we seemed to have as a group is that Elliott seems to have created a God in her own image. She states in the afterword, and on her website, that she was really at a loss for words regarding Elohim. This showed as Elohim was represented as a sniveling, weak, worried, and very sensitive (perhaps to the point of metrosexual) God. One of the things we have discussed as material presented itself is that God is outside of the boundaries and scope of time. The author makes a point for God to declare to Adam and Eve that He is “In Time” (p.66). It may be no wonder, then, that the Creator of the Universe is, in this story, very frustrated by being bound by time and His creation’s actions & decisions. This narrative would work very well into the so-called “Open Theology” movement of recent years. Elliott still wanted Elohim to be in control from time to time and want to stick to the story of expulsion from the garden, but yet be bound by the onslaught of evil, conflicted with jealousy of Adam and Eve’s relationship (this calls the Trinity into play), and unable to control His creation (pp 38-40). In this construct, God is not sovereign-just a darn good engineer.
In her afterword, Elliott explains/describes her research and methodology in preparing to write the novel. She states frankly that in order to create the story she has mixed/crossed historical periods and cultural creations. This license, while understandable in creating a story, has caused the book to have some feel of schizophrenia. There is both creation and evolution. There is evidence of the fall in a pre-fall garden (death of plants, Eve lying, disappointment, sadness). There are languages before the Tower of Babel. There is a whole culture of people apart from Adam & Eve which apparently have never had to deal with the issue of the Fall. This leads to too much having your literary cake and eating it too. If we can’t trust any single area of the author’s knowledge to be factual, we find ourselves not able to trust any area to be factual at all. There is much research to be praised here, but when the facts are stripped from the tapestry of context and rewoven into the fabric of the story we find that the threads lose their dynamic color and impact. In other words, this could be the story of so many broken people that there is little unique in it at all.
On that note, the one key concept that showed through to all in the group was the idea of human depravity. Even the best of works shown in the book are tinged with selfish angles. Even election can be inferred from the differences in the characters such as Cain and Abel & Naava & Aya. There were also scattered items of what I would term nuggets of truth form Biblical precepts. Eve struggled with the very idea that Elohim could forgive her. She and Adam began to realize that the root of their sin in the garden was idolatry (of each other, of being like God, etc.) which manifested itself in the eating of the fruit. Again, the problem is that these nuggets are scattered over 400 pages among many other thoughts contrary to Scriptural teaching.
All in all, we felt that while the novel has some literary worth, it is not one which merits re-reading or commendation to others. This is an example of our fleshing out our worldview. As we often talk about at RPC, the creative work carries the stamp of our Creator, but the total creation is open to discussion, debate and criticism based on our working out of a Biblical worldview and our knowledge (hopefully expanding) of stylistic craftsmanship.
For the group,
Jeff Miller
Posted by Jeff Miller at November 18, 2008 06:09 PM
A professor in grad school once said, “If you’ve had a semester of pyschology you have enough knowledge to be dangerous and useless at the same time.” The same can be said for Ms. Elliott: Her diminutive “research” of various pop-theology theories looks pretty damn paltry when stacked against centuries of weighty theological orthodoxy. Ms. Elliott, please read some Chesterton, Augustine, Aquinas, Lewis, Calvin, and Kuyper. Please. And then write a book that has some weight. But projecting neurotic, disgruntled feminism on poor Eve seems a tad unfair to the lass. Paging, Marilynne Robinson and Dorothy Sayers: your rebuttal is needed.
John, I won’t defend Elissa Elliott’s still-developing-yet-immature theology. But I would ask if Chesterton(or any other theologian) is the antidote for wrong beliefs? What about proper worship? If Elliott worships a schizophrenic loving God that differs from the old-grumpy-violent God of the OT, then doubt, skepticism, and, ultimately, mistrust ensues. I think appropriately, Eve, says less about the biblical Eve and more about Elliott. Every page unfolds her own struggles with Elohim. And, on some level, it endears the reader to her theological thrashing vis a vis our own struggles and doubts. But it also exposes that Elliott’s god is only as big as her(and Eve’s) conception and understanding of said god. She often equates understanding with ability to believe. (SPOILER ALERT: And even ends the book with Eve’s melting in understanding) This is where we would part ways…but not in hostility. I, too, would want to apprehend every mental faculty and academic dicipline to cull general revelation(the world) and specific revelation (Word and Christ)to understand these mysteries. But the understanding of God cannot be held as triumphant as the unwavering positive attributes of God. The presupposition that God is always good even assists greatly in understanding the rest of creation. But allowing entrance to the “darker” side of God breeds ideas that look similar to its parent idea. In practicality: I can endure pain if I know God is good at the outset…even if I do not understand why I would have to trudge through such horror. The presuppositional belief in God is what drives my maturity…not ultimately understanding. The understanding may produce a chuckle, a sigh, and relieved wonder, but it does not produce a mature Xtian.
Three months ago I too received a advance copy of Elissa Elliott’s book. I am a retired rabbi and nearly 90 years old. I am from Germany and was 20 years old in 1938 on the infamous night now known as Kristallnacht. I escaped to France only to be followed there by the Germans. Eventually I made my way to the US via Canada. This is all to say that I have seen hate incarnate. I am not “Christian” however, I have studied the life of Jesus. I do not believe him to be the Son of Man. But I do believe his teachings, if followed by all (including Christians), would make this world a better place (my grandson gave me a bumper sticker WWJD). I have two friends who are gay because I feel it is appropriate to love all. I go to the prisons to be friends with inmates because I feel they are in need. All these things I think Jesus would approve of. But what saddens me most of what I read in the posts before mine is hate, thinly veiled in pseudo-knowledge. Jesus never taught sarcasm, ridicule, or exclusion. It saddens me, a man who has lived through darkness to see hate written about a book. This is what I expect, saw, and lived through in Nazi Germany, not America, and not from followers of Jesus. I am saddened to see the previous posts written and posted on a church website. I am not going to state that I know more than the average man, but I have devoted my life to the study of God. And what I have learned is that I cannot throw around arrogance in the form of “knowledge” because I’ve learned that I may not always be correct. It is okay to not like literature, but to mock it displays more about what the writer is trying to expose than one wishes. I also know, as a retired rabbi of 45 years, that the people reflects the leadership. I will pray for your church as I hope you pray for me in a spirit of love just as Jesus would have done.
Sincerely,
Rabbi Ezra Shonstein
Rabbi Shonstein,
Many thanks for taking the time to interact with Miller’s post and the subsequent discussion. It would be worth much of our time to hear your incredible story. You bring to the fore many vital questions of faith and belief, and I would like to respond to each of them carefully and sincerely.
You wrote:
“But I do believe his teachings, if followed by all (including Christians), would make this world a better place (my grandson gave me a bumper sticker WWJD).”
On Making the World a Better Place:
George Barna once wrote (in his numerous studies on American religion):
“To increasing millions of Americans, God—if we even believe in a supernatural deity—exists for the pleasure of humankind. He resides in the heavenly realm solely for our utility and benefit….Most Americans have at least an intellectual assent when it comes to God, Jesus Christ, and angels, They believe that the Bible is a good book filled with important stories and lessons. And they believe that religion is very important in their lives. But this same group of people, including many professing Christians, also believe that people are inherently good; that our primary purpose is to enjoy life as much as possible.”
Surely, as a European who has seen much violence, you have seen a great disconnect between what the American church commonly espouses and the painful, horrifying truth of reality. Either God has been woefully asleep at the wheel, or the message of Jesus as Christ and Redeemer to the world intentionally does not look like what we expect or demand. I am unconvinced that Jesus came to give the entire world an extreme moral makeover. His message is actually quite offensive: You cannot achieve righteousness on your own, so believe in his work, in his person—as one who perfectly kept the Law and, yet, also suffered the wrath of God the Father against sin—for his chosen. In other words, John 14 is actually very exclusive: Jesus says, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to Father except through me.”
On What Would Jesus Do?
Michael Horton, an excellent author has said this:
“When the focus becomes ‘What would Jesus do?’ instead of ‘What has Jesus done?’” there is no discernible difference between a Christian or a non-Christian in their zealous activity for good. Horton tacks this on: “But start talking about the REAL crisis—where our best efforts are filthy rags and Jesus came to bear the condemnation of helpless sinners who place their confidence in him rather than in themselves—and people begin shifting in their seats, even in churches.” In other words, I don’t value WWJD bumper-stickers as a viable representation of Jesus’ teachings. It is simply shallow moralism couched in the attempt to appear sincere, civil, and devout. Jesus cuts through this nonsense as he consistently calls down woe upon the Judaic religious establishment.
On Sarcasm:
I will assume that you do not consider the New Testament writings by the Evangelists, Paul, and other apostles as Scripture (ie. following the pattern of “Thus saith the Lord…” found in the Law, Prophets, and Writings. So, out of respect for what you value, I will use only the Law, Prophets, and Writings as a proof text for this point. I think one erroneous presupposition that you levied is that “sarcasm” is not used by God or even his prophets. Not only do I see it used in the Old Testament, I see it used in a way that is implicitly (if not explicitly) sanctioned and endorsed by God himself. For a brief referent: Elijah’s use of sarcasm with the priests of Baal…and almost every Prophet liberally employs sarcasm when speaking to the people of God. (Jeremiah, Isaiah, Hosea, Joel…to name a few of the most sarcastic) But since you asserted that Jesus did not employ sarcasm, I would politely yet firmly disagree. One instance that pops into my mind is the account where Jesus publicly embarrasses the Pharisees (greatly respected Jewish teachers and leaders) and pretty much calls the most learned men of Judaism, “ignorant.” (“Go and learn what this means,” Jesus rallies, as if these students knew nothing about their own texts) The gall of Jesus! The sarcasm! How dare he! This same Jesus calls down “Woe” on the Pharisees, employing deep and biting language.
On Elliott’s Book:
I think there is an important presupposition underlying your offense at our distaste for its theological premises. It seems that you equate brotherly/human love with acceptance of all things. However, there is such a thing as healthy and proper hate. It is a good thing that I hate the horrors of Auschwitz. It is good that I hate the abuse of children. Love does not equal indiscriminate acceptance. And this is where our book group could not endorse Elliott’s novel for broad consumption: her conception of God is simply too limited and minute. We simply wanted the towering, sovereign, relentless, tenacious, terrible, gracious, loving God of Luther and Calvin and of all preceding saints. (Please note: Elliott crafted a finely written novel, her style and prose are not being called into question. Her ideas are.) Any other ideas about God mined from the internal gut-feelings of a post-modern (that do not come from Scripture) are relegated to philosophical musings limited to the experiential/cultural views of the author. The longevity of Elliott’s book will not reach beyond a decade, because she did not construct a God big enough to punch his way out. She paints God as a god she really, really, really wishes he could be. Let me make this very clear: I hate neither the book nor Elliott. Those inclined to digest it, will read some fine prose by a sensitive author. But one has to ask: If Elliott’s god were to be pitted against Flannery O’Connor’s God( or even Graham Greene’s God), how would he fare?
If I may, I would like to ask some follow-up questions:
If Jesus self-claimed to be the Son of God and of Man, can you really take his other teachings seriously? How do you pick which teachings are safely “moral” and which ones must be discarded, because they are too confusing, hard, or mean? We simply do not have this luxury of approaching the world(and Scripture) as a moral buffet. The teachings of Jesus tear at many of Judaism’s treasured requirements in the Torah. I would be curious as to what teachings of Jesus you find acceptable, and ones that you do not.
Again, many thanks for your interaction. A warm meal, a glass of wine, and much Shalom await you if you ever wend your way to Tuscaloosa. Le-chaim!
I, too, read the book, and was frustrated after the first 50 pages. I tried to read it as a theological work, but could not get past the feminist associations, especially the feminizing of Elohim. However, I agree with Tim that the book appears more as Elliott’s personal struggle with God and her own religious beliefs than something overtly theological in any particular sense. As such, I decided to read it as I would any other novel. I can equate it only with Danielle Steele, whose novels, ironically, I have never read, but whose penchant for melodrama is legendary. Elliott’s characters and her story line read straight out of the writer’s handbook for dysfunctional families, complete with strong, commanding women and pig-headed, clueless men; she brings us philosophically to the intersection of Joel Osteen and Gloria Steinam. Reading it as a “guilty pleasure” proved more satisfying than trying to cull deep religious significance from its incongruous theological musings.
I respectfully disagree with Rabbi Shonstein that there was any hatred or malice intended in any of the previous posts. I do not pretend to be a theological expert of any sort (I rely on Tim and others in our church for that), but it seems to me that the doctrine of election, in which we strongly believe, is exclusionary by definition. Jesus even preached that He was “the way, the truth, and the life,” and the only way to the Father was through the Son. This would seem to exclude de facto a number of people.
In addition, we are discussing a literary work and not a work of Scripture. Sarcasm has long been a tool of writers, especially book reviewers, to make a point in a particularly striking way. Book reviews are merely opinion pieces, and as such, necessarily subjective. Those who are comfortable with the feminizing of Elohim, and therefore His creation, would have no trouble looking past the inconsistencies in Elliott’s account of the Garden of Eden. However, those who view God as sovereign would be wont to accept Him as anything else. Reading Elliott’s novel requires a temporary suspension of belief in order to enjoy the obvious depth of research and rich detail woven into the storyline. After all is said and done, the book reads like a novel of no greater significance than a Robert Ludlum book.
Once I suspended my search for any theological acumen in Elliott’s book, I was able to read, and even enjoy a little, her story of this dysfunctional family with its coterie of cliched characters and twenty-first century sensibilities. There is nothing more and nothing less. I wish Elliott well in her search for beliefs that she can wrap her brain around; I only hope that she is able to come to a reformed point of view, the only one that truly makes sense.
Respectfully submitted.