First of all: Atheist or not, if you haven’t read Craig Thompson’s Blankets, it’s a reading emergency. It’s not just one of the most beautiful and compelling graphic novels I’ve read; it’s one of the most beautiful and compelling books I’ve read in any format.
And if you’re interested in religion — whether you’re godless or a believer — it is absolutely a must-read, pretty much right this second. Thompson’s depiction of his fundamentalist childhood is a pitch-perfect depiction, in vivid and unignorable detail, of how, precisely, a religious upbringing can traumatize and fuck up a child. It’s not written as a critical argument, it’s not Dawkins or Dennet or Hitchens; it’s a personal, emotional, intensely intimate view of what this experience felt like from the inside. I don’t actually know if Thompson is an atheist or if he’s just discarded the fundamentalist faith of his childhood (maybe I should have called this post “Questioning Religion in Pop Culture,” but I’ve dubbed the series “Atheism in Pop Culture” and I’m sticking to it). But if you want to know how religion is playing out in families across the country, you have to read it stat.
So here, more specifically, is what I want to say about it.
Over at Daylight Atheism there’s a beautiful, eloquent post about how religious teachers act and speak as if they know how the spiritual world works — often in startling detail — better than the rank and file. The post, and the discussion that followed, reminded me immediately of this scene in Blankets:
Craig is a child in Sunday school, being told in detail about what Heaven is like, how everyone will be singing songs and praising God forever. Craig asks his Sunday school teacher if he’ll be able to draw in heaven (even as a child he loved to draw), if he could praise God and creation with drawing instead of singing. And the teacher says, unequivocally and with complete confidence and authority, No. You can’t draw in Heaven.
The exact words in the book: “I mean, come on, Craig. How can you praise God with DRAWINGS?” And when Craig asks if he can “draw His creation — like trees and stuff,” she replies, “But Craig… He’s already drawn it for us.” She’s quite adamant about it.
Now, let’s set aside for the moment how appalling it is to squelch a talented child’s creativity by saying something like that. My point is this: How on earth did the Sunday school teacher know that you can sing in Heaven, but you can’t draw? On what basis was she making that claim?
None at all, that’s what. It’s not what she was taught about Heaven — she was taught about singing God’s praises, not drawing them — and in her closed mind, drawing therefore couldn’t be part of Heaven. But she didn’t really have any basis for her answer. She taught it to a child as if it were a plain fact — but she was just making it up.
The same way that all religious teachers are just making it up.
They don’t have any basis for their detailed claims about Heaven or Hell, God and the soul. They have Scripture, sure; but Scripture is self-contradictory and vague, and if you ask ten religions teachers what Scripture means you’ll get ten different answers. And there’s no evidence for any one of those answers being right or wrong. Ultimately, it always comes down to faith.
So I think this Blankets story shows beautifully how the very idea of religious teaching warps the basic idea of authority. I don’t mean authority like cops or bosses — I mean intellectual authority. Human civilization is based, at least partly, on the passing down of knowledge from generation to generation, from people who know stuff to people who don’t; and in particular children’s brains are wired, for good evolutionary reasons, to believe what adults tell them. But that only works when the intellectual authorities have their teachings based in reality and evidence (and are open to new ideas and being proven wrong). Religious teaching, of the “I know what Heaven/ Hell/ God/ the human soul are like, and I’m going to explain it to you” variety, completely hijacks that process, by presenting with the conviction of authoritative truth ideas that they are just making up.
Thank you so very much. I don’t know if I ever would have come across this book otherwise, and I also appreciate your clear understanding of the harm that unjustified certainty can cause.
I will bookmark your site, and start from the beginning, but I wonder- have you considered the possibilities inherent in schools teaching logic to children as they start learning basic math and reading?
But you can’t draw in Heaven!
There’s no Heaven, therefore, there’s no place to put your pencils and your paper and nothing to draw about.
As simple as that.
What about the singing?
Ah, you filthy atheist!
If the bible says “Sing!” you must say “How loud?”, not to question if it is possible to sing in a place that doesn’t exist.
“I don’t actually know if Thompson is an atheist or if he’s just discarded the fundamentalist faith of his childhood”
It’s the latter; see the interview here.
http://www.marsimport.com/feature.php?ID=4&type=1
“Blankets” was a particularly valuable read for me, in that before I read it, I had absolutely no idea what it was like to grow up fundie, and thanks to Thompson, I think I can conceive of it now.
There’s a fantastic scene near the end, where Craig is attending his brother’s wedding reception, and his sister-in-law is explaining something about deep time and geology, and he’s absolutely start-struck with the wonder of it all… and this crew-cut, short-tie fellow pipes up and says that, well, the Bible says that the earth is six thousand years old. It just seems so small, and shabby, and parochial, and you can really see how Craig’s viewpoint outgrew all of that.
Just FYI, Thompson’s not an atheist.
http://www.marsimport.com/feature.php?ID=4&type=1
This is not in my normal reading radius, but I took it as an “emergency” read and checked it out from my university library. Wow. First off, I never figured a “graphic novel” would be several hundred pages. Secondly, my wife grew up fundie and, apparently made it about to where Thompson is now. This book was a revealing look at the experience of losing one’s faith (something I never went through), and it was a damned good read. Plus the artwork is amazing. I particularly loved the final scene where Thompson and his beau are wrapped around each other and falling towards the demons, and a group of angels save them. I agree… reading emergency.
I’m a fellow atheist and I really enjoy your blog, but I’ afraid that I have to disagree with your last argument. People have been telling their children unsubstantiated stories about metaphysics for (at least) millennia.
The statement that religion “hijacks” this process would imply that the process was there before the hijacking. To my knowledge, there is no evidence for this – religion seems to have been around quite literally since time immemorial.
The good news is that now, more than ever before, we are in a position to rid ourselves of this bullshit, which I’d consider an unprecedented advancement in the human condition.
“The good news is that now, more than ever before, we are in a position to rid ourselves of this bullshit, which I’d consider an unprecedented advancement in the human condition.”
Hear, Hear!
Found this while searching for sites on ‘Blankets’. Good review.
Personally, I found the scene in which an adult Craig stood in a public library and announced “I can read any book”. Very touching.
Hi, Greta.
Thanks for writing this. You got me interested in this book, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m planning on reading it soon, for Banned Book Week 2009.
In a previous incarnation, I argued with a Swedenborgian (really!), who was absolutely certain that there was a Heaven, where streets were paved with gold (literally), and a hundred other specific details.
I remember trying to get him to understand that I was not saying that it could not be so, but rather that he could not know it was so. That it was his belief, not bedrock.
Nothing.
*sigh*
How can someone believe in a creative God who takes joy from the infinite splendor of his creation, and who chose to share that creative ability with his creations so they could take joy from it too, but then tell a little kid “God doesn’t care about your drawings, he only likes it when you sing”? If I believed in such a God, I think I would feel compelled to also believe that God would appreciate any good work one of his creations does that makes their spirit resonate with the joy that only creativity can accomplish.
That woman was a bad teacher.
Dont have time to read all this now as I’m at work but omfg BOOKMARKED!
That teacher needs to read Art and the Bible by Francis Schaeffer. It’s short, I’m sure she’ll handle it.
I just ordered this book from my library. Thanks!