As I sit here reading “Planet Narnia” by Dr. Michael Ward, and learn about the meaning of allegory and symbol as Lewis understood and defined them, I am lead to ponder the effects of fanciful books on the reader.

I have been disturbed of late by the memes posted by book lovers that express their desire to always be “lost” in a book, to never have to leave its fictional realm. This has been stirring around in one of the un-dusted corners of my brain for a bit, seeking to find reason and words to explain that such a mindset or attitude is not quite where works of fiction should be taking us.

I won’t take time here to talk about the breadth and balance that a healthy human life ought to have, but only what a work of fancy ought to do for the reader.

I have enjoyed fantastic fiction of all sorts all my life, but I find something unique in the truly good writers. The works of MacDonald, Chesterton, Tolkien and Lewis (others I’m sure, but I am far behind in my literary education) have a particularly life-enhancing effect. After coming to the end of one of their tales, rather than being reluctant to leave the enchanted world behind, I find instead that their images and adventures have opened my eyes even more to the multidimensional beauties and truths of the things in this world.

After having spent time with Ents, I find I love the trees in my own neighborhood all the more. It doesn’t matter that they don’t walk or talk, now I ponder their long slowness of life, their silent witness to the frantic bustle of man, their gradual habits of shedding old parts, growing new ones and going up a little more each year.

After reading Chesterton I find every human I encounter to be a walking adventure, a fathomless mystery, and every little pleasure in life is far more jolly. “The Napoleon of Notting Hill” and “The Ball and the Cross” have done more to develop my sense of nobility and dignity than any philosophical studies could ever have.

Just reading “The Princess and the Goblin”, long before learning anything much about George MacDonald the man, assured me that the writer was someone intimate with holiness and beauty. But his fairytale is so completely otherworldly, with not a whiff of allegory anywhere that it is a mystery to me just how it worked it’s magic upon my soul. Now that is some amazing writing.

But when these tales come to their end, we should not find ourselves sad or hungry, still wanting more, quite the contrary. A good work satisfies the heart and soul like a good meal and energizes the reader for the day ahead and a great story, no matter how fantastical, helps us to see the actual world more deeply, more truly and live as better, happier persons.