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"The dove, the rainbow, and the unicorn": 170 years of the flood story retold for
children in words and pictures
England, E.E.E.
Publication date 2013
Link to publication
Citation for published version (APA):
England, E. E. E. (2013). "The dove, the rainbow, and the unicorn": 170 years of the flood story retold for children in words and pictures.
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Part Two, Chapter 4: God And with love God made a rainbow
To brighten up the sky
Alice Joyce Davidson, The Story of Noah, 1984
God is the main character in the biblical flood story. He is the only actor with direct or indirect speech, thoughts, and emotions. He is an active, interventionist God: he shuts the ark, destroys the earth’s inhabitants, passes a wind over the earth, blesses Noah and his sons, and sets his bow in the clouds. He is emotionally and physically anthropomorphized. He is a God with dual roles: punisher/destroyer and protector/savior. In the Genesis flood story, he is a God who changes his mind, a God who develops.
In this Chapter the character of God as represented in the children’s retellings is analyzed. I begin with an analysis of “anthropomorphization,” including “emotional anthropomorphization,” and “mind, body, and spirit,” before asking “what does God look like?” Following this, I consider “the punisher/savior God” in the retellings. This includes an exploration of if and how retellings present and justify this dual role. In the conclusion I explore how the different ways of presenting elements of God’s character function together to form an altogether different sort of actor than in Genesis.
Anthropomorphization in the Retellings
“One night, God came to Noah in a dream” (Gascoigne 1946, 14, DBID 149; cf. Dickinson 293, 23, DBID 293). Is “came” anthropomorphic? No, not literally. It is not necessarily human or humanoid. God “coming” to Noah could imply that Noah received God’s commands, fully formed in his head, with no visual or verbal contact or interaction. Conversely, “came to” could imply anthropomorphic interaction such as walking and talking.
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This is especially the case if the reader has an anthropomorphic conception of God. Language is a human construct and is therefore inherently embedded with anthropomorphic concepts. The Genesis flood story is abundant with God’s anthropomorphism. In this first half of this Chapter, the implications of this accidental and deliberate construct for God in the retellings is explored.
Emotional Anthropomorphism
Two verses in the flood story explicitly refer to God’s emotions, Gen 6:6 and 6:7 (pp. 62-63): “And the Lord was sorry (םחנ Nif.) that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him (בצע Hit.) to his heart (ובל־לא),” and “for I am sorry (םחנ Nif.) that I have made them.” םחנ means “regret,” “to be sorry,” and “repent,” all of which are used in popular Bible translations (NIV, NRSV, and KJV respectively). All options hint at God changing, not least because םחנ is used when God sees how humanity is wicked in heart/mind (ער קר ובל, 6:5). This human trait is permanent (8:21). It is God, not humanity, who changes (pp. 87-90; 96-98).
In total, 66 of the 263 (25%) retellings in the corpus include the classification “06. God regrets that he made humanity” in some form (see Appendix A for the full classification list and a statistical summary).1 “Repent” is rare and only present in the first 100 years of the corpus: “for it repenteth me that I have made them” (Cobbin [c. 1873], 3, DBID 27; cf. Emerson, [c. 1920], 24, DBID 12; Anon [c. 1877], 26, DBID 294). “Regret” is also rare (Watson 1995, 16, DBID 228), as are alternative expressions, such as, “God wished he had never created the human race” (Anon 1971, inside cover, DBID 264). “Sorry” is undoubtedly
1
The distribution is fairly even throughout the 170 years, although there is a gap between 1935 and 1953, coinciding with WW2 and its aftermath. The latter especially led to a decline in retellings of the flood, particularly elements pertaining to God’s support or creation of death.
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the most common expression. “‘I’m sorry I made people’” (Adams 1994, 11, DBID 280; cf. Hollyer 1987, 4, DBID 17; Gould 1895, 8, DBID 64) could express regret or sadness.2 The ambiguity of “sorry” is probably why it, not the more certain “regret” or “repentance,” is popular. It is likely that this results from direct or indirect contact with biblical commentaries, most of which reject God’s mutability.
There is rarely any actual change within the retellings, even when regret is expressed. God’s mutability is dependent upon God being the creator of what he destroys, and/or God deciding that people deserve to live despite their faults (8:21). An example of the latter would be: “God then relented and promised that He would never again be so hard on man.” (Hutcheson 1963, 63, DBID 257). The idea that humanity was essentially wicked (6:5; 8:21) is uncommon, and since at least the first quarter of the twentieth century the concept has rarely been included in retellings. As a didactic message this might be seen as counterproductive and harsh. God destroying his creation has become less common, either because of the lack of the destruction and/or because God is not described as the creator. If the reader fills this creationist gap, this is because of preexisting knowledge/beliefs/assumptions, but this does not lead to God’s change within the narrative itself.
If there is not change through regret or repentance (םחנ), what about God’s sadness through grief/pain/hurt (בצע)? Of the retellings, 71 are classified as “07. God is saddened.”3
2
On the database these were recorded as regret. A judgment call was made based upon the context of each. This is one of the difficulties with classification systems based upon motifs such as emotion: the interpreter has a critical role in the outcome. In itself this is not necessarily a problem, but it does need to be acknowledged and consistency is essential.
3
Examples of terms include: “grief” (Macy 1920, 58, DBID 13; Blyton 1985, 3, DBID 56; Anon [c. 1877], 26, DBID 294); “sad” (Frank 1986, 22, DBID 38; Christie-Murray 1997, 23, DBID 58; Taylor, [c. 1948], 7r–7v, DBID 173; Davidson 1984, 5v, DBID 298); and “anger” (Foster [c. 1906], 18, DBID 21; Blyton 1992, 12, DBID 95; Anon 1859, 23, DBID 113; Matthews 1979, 17–18, DBID 202). Retellings sometimes express a range of emotions more reflective of the Hebrew’s depth. One retelling includes all of the following: “it pained Him,” “God regretted,” “He had so lovingly created,” “Very sadly God came to a fearful decision,” “the Lord loved Noah” (Parker 2001, 24,
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When God is sad/grieving/angry, it is because humanity has committed crimes or wicked actions (including neglecting God), which are a cause for punishment. God seems not to feel responsibility for the lack of goodness in humanity. God is sad because of humanity; he is reacting to humanity’s behavior. God himself stays the same; it is humanity that is affected in the long term by God’s reaction. This recreates God as a steadfast deity, not prone to changes brought on by emotional outbursts. It is a comforting approach to God and presents an easily understood moral lesson: God kills the bad people and protects the good people. God’s emotions are ultimately about God’s relationship with humanity, but the majority of retellings do not acknowledge that this relationship is a process for God to develop. Half of the retellings do not even include God’s emotions.
“The Flood, or Deluge, was decreed by God, in order to sweep away all the descendants of Adam, because of the wickedness of their lives” (Francis 1905, 22, DBID 39). This is an example of the 153 retellings (over half of the 263 in the corpus) that include no expression of God’s regret or sadness (cf. Anon [c. 1894], DBID 86; Anon [c. 1856], DBID 91; Maddox 1998, DBID 242; Water 2000, DBID 243). The explicit lack of God’s emotions reduces the possibility that his actions are construed as a predominantly emotional reaction. Perhaps the removal of emotions makes God a little more rational, logical, and just. The lack of emotions enhances his supernatural characteristics, but, at the same time, diminishes him as not only a character but also as an omnipotent being. The decision to reduce God’s emotions may make him less appealing as a character; he may appear distant and detached. A lack of emotions that excludes the opportunity for change also diminishes God: his character
DBID 237). This presents God as a very emotional, anthropomorphic deity, enhancing his role as a character. Such a development is very rare, especially in expository retellings like this one, which are frequently more conservative. Only 26 retellings are classified with both “06. God regrets that he made humanity” and “07. God is saddened.” These are primarily retellings that include a translation of the narrative, such as the Rainbow Good News Bible (1994, DBID 304) and the Holy Bible:
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becomes less developed than in Genesis (pp. 130-137). And moreover, what of the physical anthropomorphism?
Mind, Body, and Spirit
Speech, sight, and God’s walking (with Noah) imply physical anthropomorphism. The most interesting Hebrew word for this narrative, especially as part of Genesis 1–11, is חור.4 The most contextually relevant meanings of it are breath, wind, and (life-giving) spirit (KBL, 3:1197–1201; BDB, 924–926; CDCH, 415–416; pp. 57-58; 88-89). There are 5 instances of the singular noun חור in the biblical story, the NRSV translations being: “my spirit” (יחור, 6:3), “breath of life” (םייח חור, 6:17; 7:15, 22), “And God made a wind blow” (חור םיהלא רבעיו, 8:1). In translation these phrases do not suggest anthropomorphism. Instead, they emphasize God as supernatural. The retellings almost exclusively rework translations (if not other retellings) and as such the anthropomorphic interpretations of חור are rarely encountered.
The least anthropomorphic term is the “breath of life” (םייח חור, 6:17; 7:15, 22). It twice refers to the destroyed humans and animals (6:17; 7:22) and once to the animals that entered the ark (7:15). In situ these uses of חור are not explicit references to God’s breath. Intertextually, however, they are, not only through the other uses of חור in the flood narrative, but also through the creation of animals and humanity (Gen 1:30; 2:7). Although the phrase “breath of life” is sometimes used in retellings, it rarely, if ever, has an anthropomorphic interpretation.
4
This story is not the only one where חור is used within the context of supernatural or apparently miraculous events. In the creation narratives God’s חור swept over the waters (Gen 1:2) and in the Exodus narrative God sent a חור to divide the sea of reeds (Ex 14:21).
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Less common in the flood story is the translation of חור as “spirit.” It is usually only used to translate Gen 6:3: “Then the Lord said, ‘My spirit (חור) shall not abide (ןודי) in mortals (םדא) forever, for they are flesh.’” If we accept that חור can mean many things, then this use of חור could also be translated as “my breath.” “Spirit” implies the supernatural, while “breath” implies the physical. In the Hebrew both are implied and they are not mutually exclusive. In the retellings God’s breath (of life) does not get mentioned. The final biblical use of the noun חור is when God makes a wind blow over the earth (8:1). It is tied to another element of God’s anthropomorphization in the same verse, memory:
But God remembered Noah (חנ־תא םיהלא רכזיו) and all the wild animals and all the domestic animals that were with him in the ark. And God made a wind (חור םיהלא רבעיו) blow over the earth, and the waters subsided.
As discussed in the previous Chapter (pp. 81-82), this verse implies that God has forgotten Noah and the occupants of the ark. After remembering, he sends the חור, the wind/breath/(spirit).
Seventy-eight retellings include God sending the wind, but only one of these also includes a visualization of God directly sending the wind, a visualization that is also anthropomorphic (Ray 2001, DBID 212, see Fig. 7, p. 117). Only 37 retellings include explicit reference to God’s remembering, but memory is a form of anthropomorphism. Over 60% of these retellings were published before 1970, indicating a decreasing acceptance of the concept. Except for 7 examples, these retellings keep the act of remembering connected to God’s חור:5
“God remembered Noah and every living creature with him in the ark. God made a wind to pass over the earth” (Werner [c. 1954], 12, DBID 313; cf. Francis 1905, 24, DBID
5
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39). These retellings do not try to explain God’s actions, instead, presenting the narrative in a similar manner to standard (“adult”) translations. Few retellings include an act of remembering and God sending a wind but without any connection: “But the Lord remembered his promise/And the ark went floating free,” and 4 pages earlier “And he sent a West wind blowing/To dry it up gradually” (Flanders 1972, 10r, 11v, DBID 65). Rare examples like this demonstrate that the producers are flexible with their interpretation of the biblical text, often changing the narrative quite significantly. In this instance God remembered his promise to save the occupants of the ark. Following this the ark is freed, presumably by God. The wind is not involved in freeing the ark; it dries the waters. The ark is nonetheless brought to rest on Ararat by “the Lord God.”
A more common variation, but one that takes just as many liberties (if not more) with the biblical text than the previous retelling, is where the idea that God forgets is explicitly excluded. This may be conveyed by God keeping Noah and his animals “in mind” (Wansborough 1997, 12, DBID 261). Alternatively there may be a phrase such as “God has not forgotten Noah” (Anon 1994, 10, DBID 304;6
cf. Taylor 1970, 20, DBID 107; Robertson 1983, 20, DBID 311). In one particularly unusual retelling God is illustrated actively protecting the ark during the flood (Williams 2004, 13, DBID 273).7 These examples challenge the idea that God forgets. It is probably a deliberate rejection of God’s memory loss. By removing God’s memory lapse and retrieval, the majority of retellings reject (for whatever purpose, whether intentionally or not) another element of God’s role in the Genesis flood narrative. Through an exploration of God’s emotions and the uses of חור we have
6
This example is the Rainbow Good New Bible. The only other element of the Genesis narrative that this translation leaves out is another controversial anthropomorphism: God smelling the sacrifice. Rather, the more ambiguous “The odour of the sacrifice pleased the Lord” is used (Anon 1994, 11, DBID 304).
7
God’s hands, feet, and whole body can be seen helping the ark float and righting it when it capsizes. When God’s whole body is seen God is always standing or sitting on a cloud (cf. pp. 193; 301).
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already seen a significant change in his character: God is already more remote from his creation, and more distant from the reader than he is in Genesis.
Related to חור is the act of smelling, in Gen 8:21. It is associated with the noun חור because of the use of the verb חור (Hif. Imperfect, possibly spelled חיר) meaning “to smell” and the noun חיר meaning “odor” (pp. 87-88): “And when the LORD smelled the pleasing odor (חחינה חיר־תא הוהי חריו), the LORD said in his heart . . . (ובל־לא הוהי רמאיו).” The odor is from Noah’s sacrificial offering, an event verbally recounted 76 (29%) times in the corpus. God’s sense of smell is only directly relevant in these examples. Two-thirds of them do not include God’s sense of smell. The following is indicative of God’s response: “The LORD was pleased with these sacrifices” (8:21, ICB 1991, DBID 297; cf. Ralph 1892, 17, DBID 69). Rather than a literal translation, this translation utilizes the idea that the Hebrew is a sacrificial term (חחינ חיר, p. 88). It replaces the physically anthropomorphic act of smelling with the emotional response to the sacrifice. This pleasure is the more common response to Noah’s sacrifice. It has also been stretched to apply to the more frequently retold nonsacrificial altar, thanks, or prayer offered by Noah.
Given that the result of the sacrifice is God’s pleasure and a continuance of his relationship with humanity, perhaps it does not matter if the act of smelling is neglected. After all, if God can be pleased with something a human does, the child (and adult) reader has a chance to please God as Noah did, by being “good” and obeying God. This is particularly the case when we remember that the physical sense of smell conjures up visceral images of a being with a nose and associated actions. It may even conjure up visuals of God smelling a barbeque; a creative but perhaps unedifying image of God.8 The physical
8
This is particularly the case for readers unfamiliar with sacrifice as worship: recognizing objects requires preexisting, culturally bound knowledge (Nodelman 1999, 70–71).
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implications of God having a sense of smell have been widely rejected by commentators from the last 150 years, and perhaps as a result, the retellings also reject it. Despite this, some retellings do include it, such as the following example.
Michael McCarthy’s The Story of Noah and the Ark, illustrated by Giuliano Ferri (2001, DBID 124) presents the sense of smell. The narrative immediately and explicitly connects this to God’s promise and command to multiply:
God enjoyed its fragrant smell And said to Noah, ‘Listen well. I promise, after so much pain. A flood will never come again Go out from here and multiply.
Let creatures fill the earth and sky. (16r)
Here we realize why it does matter whether or not God smells the sacrifice. In the Bible it is Noah’s sacrifice that triggers God’s decision not to send another flood and to give him commands that continue his relationship with humanity (pp. 87-89). In this retelling we can see that when God’s smelling of the sacrifice is excluded, his relationship with Noah, and by extrapolation humanity and the reader, is diminished.
The image of the altar, on the recto of McCarthy’s previous page, is dominated by large plumes of smoke spreading out and bleeding off the top of the page (McCarthy 2001, 14r, DBID 124, Fig. 4). The “smell” of the offering is ascending to God, just as Noah and his family are communicating with him. In these images God is visually acknowledged without being physically represented, but this acknowledgement is still only an implication (pp. 111-117). He is physically and emotionally anthropomorphized in the words, but a visual anthropomorphization is avoided. He is not aloof or distant, he explicitly acts on his physical
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and emotional anthropomorphism, and he does so in a way that continues his relationship with humanity.
God’s continuing relationship with humanity is rarely witnessed in the retellings, as with the final example of physical anthropomorphism, Gen 9:6: “Whoever sheds the blood of a human, by a human shall that person’s blood be shed; for in his own image God made humankind (םדאה־תא השע םיהלא םלצב).” This indicates anthropomorphism because of the complex theological ideas expressed in the concept that God made humanity in his םלצ, meaning replica, likeness, and image (pp. 91-92). The meaning of םלצ is predominantly
Figure 4. Giuliano Ferri. 2001. Smoke rising to the heavens, to God.
(Michael McCarthy. The Story of Noah and the Ark. DBID 124.)
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physical in the Hebrew Bible and the implication is that God makes humanity, specifically “man” (םדאה) in his own likeness; ergo, God looks like humanity.
With the close connection between the blood reckoning and the image of God in the Genesis narrative, it is to be expected that with only 24 retellings representing the blood reckoning, “the image of God” phrase is unusual in the retellings.9
Of those 24 retellings, fewer than 10 include the image of God reference, whether rephrasing the passage as: “Do not take human life, for people are made to be like God” (Best 1998, 17r, DBID 223); or including a common translation such as the NRSV (Anon 1988, 15v, DBID 44) or KJV (Mee 1953, 8, DBID 46). Both options reflect the essence of the Hebrew. Together with the “blood reckoning” being difficult, perhaps this variety of possible meanings adds to its scarcity: it is a complicated concept with heavy theological baggage attached to it. Perhaps it is considered too difficult to retell and explain to children.10
In the biblical flood story, the primeval narratives, and beyond, God is anthropomorphized. He is referred to with personal pronouns; his words are introduced with speech tags; he expresses emotions; and he has body parts. He is an anthropomorphic being, but literal anthropomorphism does not exclude the supernatural or spiritual. In the retellings we find ourselves in a strange situation. God is always referred to with personal pronouns and he frequently experiences emotions. Nevertheless, he is not often physically anthropomorphized beyond the power of sight and speech.
9
The occurrences of the blood reckoning are relatively evenly distributed between 1838 and 2001. Eight retellings, a disproportionately high number, were published in the nineteenth century. There are two gaps of 15 years, 1838–1862 and 1968–1983. These are probably too low a number in such a small group of retellings to be particularly significant, but one gap is striking. Between 1913 and 1953 (40 years) only one retelling including the blood reckoning was published, (Emerson [c. 1920], DBID 12; it is a particularly unusual example including giants and the Gilgamesh Epic). This is almost certainly because of the world wars.
10
A detailed comparison with the use of the image-of-God motif in retellings of the creation narrative might offer further insights.
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A clue to the lack of physical anthropomorphization can be found in the emotional presentations: God does not change. The retellings present a God according to specific theological ideas: God is immutable, omnipotent, and omniscient. God is not human. As discussed in the previous Chapter (pp. 79-80), many commentators dismiss the idea of an anthropomorphic God as “primitive.” Yet in Genesis and many retellings God is personified. This personification turns him into a character readers can understand and relate to. When a narrative has a primary protagonist with personal traits the reader recognizes, the story is likely to be received more favorably than with a more alien protagonist. Would characters such as Peter Rabbit or Thomas the Tank Engine be as popular if they had not been anthropomorphized?
Anthropomorphism makes characters more understandable, and perhaps more enjoyable to read, as well as offering different means of expressing messages. In contemporary writing anthropomorphism is used to create depth, character, pleasure in reading, identification with protagonists, and an alternative exploration of “truth” (pp. 310-315). It seems logical that anthropomorphism works the same way whether in contemporary or ancient writings. Biblical writers did use anthropomorphism as a literary device, including with Balaam’s Ass (Num 22:21–30) and the Serpent (Gen 3:1–5). There is little reason to assume that the writers of the biblical texts were not doing the same with God.
The retellings personify God as a character, but they do not often anthropomorphize him physically. This enables a balance to be reached somewhere between presenting God as completely alien and as fully human. Furthermore, there are multiple possibilities for presenting God visually and I look at these now.
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What Does God Look Like?
I have encountered no explicit verbal descriptions of God. Tags such as “said” or “told” do suggest speech and a mouth, but only implicitly. Some retellings, such as “The Dove and the Rainbow” (Winder 1925, DBID 115; cf. Rock 2004, 3v, DBID 121), add an explicit allusion to God’s voice:
One day, when this good and just man [Noah] was growing old, God’s voice came to him, and Noah listened. The Voice told him that, owing to the wickedness of the people, a great flood was to cover the earth. (7r)
“God’s voice,” combined with “came to him,” does not need to be literally interpreted. This interpretation is encouraged, though, with the capitalization of “Voice,” especially as accompanied by the definite article and the tag “told.” This and similar representations of God explain, interpret, and help evade the physicality of God’s anthropomorphism. Nevertheless, as with smell, it is hard not to imagine the associated organ, here the mouth.
“Voice” may suggest that God is “other” and unknowable, but it still controls and limits God (p. 283). He becomes “uncanny”; the voice creates a disturbing, uncomfortable feeling (Todorov 1975, 41–57; Bennett and Royle 2004, 34–41). This separates the human from the divine and emphasizes that God is unknowable and supernatural. Such responses may be a welcome outcome for some adult educators or carers. Conversely, the unpredictability of how God’s physicality will be understood by readers, whether through the uncanny and/or more literal physical anthropomorphism, perhaps make it unsurprising that visual representations are rare. Nevertheless, God is still represented more frequently visually than verbally.
A total of 16 retellings are classified in the database as visually representing God. The process of classifying the visual God was more difficult than it may at first seem. For the purposes of the database, only those representations of God that lacked ambiguity were
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accepted. Ambiguity was interpreted based upon the “obviousness” of the depiction, the context and content of the image, as well as the frequency of the representation in the retelling.11 To take two examples: (1) A very subtle set of eyes and a smiley face in a cloud was not classified as God (de Vries 1982, 7v, DBID 177). This is because the face is not engaging with humanity or performing an “act of God,” nor is it obvious enough to be noticed by all readers. Furthermore, it only appears once in the picturebook it is in, despite numerous verbal references to God and an overtly religious framework. (2) A face in the sun was recorded as a visual representation of God (Ray 1990, DBID 212, Fig. 7), because the sun appears numerous times in the picturebook it is in. It actively looks at and physically engages with humanity, as well as actively performs “acts of God,” including physically placing the rainbow in the sky.
There are also retellings that acknowledge God with more abstract ideas, a sort of “presence through absence.” These include the previously seen image of the smoke rising to the heavens (Fig. 4 [p. 108]). God is not in the image. The smell is not a representation of him, but it can be interpreted as acknowledging his existence by ascending and bleeding off the page. Other types of images like this represent God through Noah looking up at the sky. For maximum effect the accompanying words will include some variant of “God told Noah.” It is impossible to say how many of these acknowledgements of God exist in the retellings (cf. Figs. 2 [p. 41], 14 [p. 153]).12 Although such images symbolize God’s existence, they do not actually represent him as an actor in the narrative. Without relevant accompanying text
11
When building the database, I considered adding a classification for ambiguous retellings but decided this was too imprecise a classification. In addition to these illustrations of God, some retellings are included in books in which anthropomorphized images of God accompany other narratives (i.e., Coleman 1998, DBID 218; Werner [c. 1954], DBID 313). Gillhouse argues that images of God are most common in what she calls the Creation and Fall narratives (2009, 159). I agree with her for my corpus, but a statistical analysis would be necessary to assess our conjecture. A survey of how God is (or is not) illustrated in different narratives and across different countries and for different religious audiences would be an illuminating project.
12
It would have been impossible to create a single and consistent classification for abstract interpretations of God, although a separate database would offer the opportunity to undertake such research.
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the narratives told by the images cannot be considered to include God (unless the reader adds him). Rather, the images represent a way of acknowledging belief in God without having to present him. Such illustrations are probably created to avoid (whether consciously or not) the challenges associated with visualization. Another less ambiguous form of visualization avoids anthropomorphization but does so while physically presenting God as light.
Presenting God as a light is not as common as more abstract acknowledgements of his existence. The images exist on a scale of more ambiguous to less ambiguous. Such retellings include images where a distinct light is shining on the ark or Noah, but may emanate from the edge of the image or behind a cloud. As such, it can be understood as a beam of light rather than God. An early example is from Half Hours With The Bible by an unknown author and illustrator (Anon [c. 1866], 23, DBID 135, Fig. 5).
Figure 5. Unknown illustrator. [c. 1866]. A light shines on the ark. Is it God? (Anon. Half Hours With The Bible. DBID 135.)
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The lightest area in the image is the top right-hand corner, in which the ark can be seen (as well as at least two giants, p. 257). A beam of light illustrated with straight lines emanates from the top-center of the page. This light might be unlikely to be associated with God were the image not illustrating God’s flood. The context enables this recognition as a symbol of God. It could also represent God’s help and protection of the ark, and/or the goodness of the ark and its occupants. The ambiguity of the image and the need for contextual interpretation by the reader precludes the clear identification of the light as God. The image does enable the reader to make those associations, though, especially considering the presecular date of publication. The following examples are more literal, moving further away from “presence through absence” and into “stylized presence.”
Figure 6. Alain Savino. 1984. Noah looking up at a bright light in the sky. Is it God?
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In these images God is more recognizable because the light is more defined. In
Noah’s Ark, illustrated by Alain Savino and written by Brigitte Bloch-Tabet, Noah has his
arms wide open (somewhat like a crucifixion pose; 1984, 5r, DBID 195, Fig. 6). Noah’s head is looking up at a geometric white-star pattern in a multicolored sky. The shape of this light is reminiscent of a star or a heavily stylized sun. Noah is directly interacting with it. The accompanying words state “One day, Noah heard the voice of God calling him from the sky.” The combination of elements makes it hard to conclude that the light is anything other than a visual representation of the voice of God. It manages this without visual anthropomorphism.
Another example is a bright-orange, shimmery, blob-like flame (Storr 1982, 4v, DBID 11). This light is in the middle of the image, and directly located underneath 4 lines of text that begins with “One day, Noah heard God say to him.” The image is reminiscent of the appearance of the likeness of God in Ezek 1:4: “a great cloud with brightness around it and fire flashing forth continually, and in the middle of the fire, something like a gleaming amber.” Other examples show God as a bright light in a dark sky shining directly on a kneeling Noah, who is shielding his eyes with one hand (Hollyer 1987, 7, DBID 17); and a white elliptical circle surrounded by a white ring in a grey sky, with Noah looking up at it (Elborn 1984, 4v–5r, DBID 35).13
Two of the reasons these images are fairly unambiguous depictions of God are worth mentioning. First, each of the images is accompanied by God’s announcement of a destruction, not just a generic flood. Furthermore, the announcement is given in more detail than usual, including: “The people of this earth are cruel and wicked. I have decided to put an end to them all . . . you will be the only living creatures to survive” (Bloch-Tabet 1984, 4v,
13
All of these examples were published in the 1980s. This could be for many reasons, including coincidence. It is nevertheless worth noting that two of the retellings are translations of books originally published in Switzerland (Elborn 1984, DBID 35; Bloch-Tabet 1984, DBID 195). Only 10 of the retellings in the corpus can clearly be claimed to have been originally published in a language other than English; hence these examples are particularly striking.
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DBID 195, Fig. 6). The visual representation of Noah looking at God, while the verbal representation of God speaks to Noah, enhances the personal relationship between the two. This can allow for greater freedom when depicting God’s role in the destruction, emphasizing God as both punisher and savior. Additionally, the visual and the verbal enhance each other to ensure that God remains a central figure, if not always the central character. God’s power, authority, and unknowability are emphasized.
The second reason that the illustrations are relatively unambiguous depictions of God is that they represent God in a manner that, while not fully traditional, is recognizable from biblical and religious imagery. Biblical references to God and light include God being “wrapped in light, as with a garment” (Ps 104:2), light dwelling within him (Dan 2:22), God as a guide lighting the way (Ex 13:21), and light as representation of God’s presence and favor (Isa 9:2). These images can all be understood literally and metaphorically. While the idea of “God as light” also applies to Figure 5, in these illustrations the lights are clear, central elements of the images. As such, they can be described with the phrase “stylized presence.” They represent the idea of God as light, but not as a natural light, hence they are symbolic.
Such unnatural symbols have their own ambiguities, however, particularly regarding lights in the sky that, as can be seen in Figure 6, can also be symbols of warmth and the sun. Such symbols offer a more obvious visual substitution for the physical embodiment of God than a beam of light or smoke ascending to the sky. They may suggest that there is a need to present something physical, particularly in picturebooks in which God might otherwise be absent. These presentations of the physical are related to anthropomorphism in verbal language. They are depictions of God that confirm both God’s existence and God’s actions in the narrative without ascribing to him obvious human traits. The abstract visualization of God
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can, to a certain degree counteract, and perhaps for some readers, override the anthropomorphic associations with God’s direct speeches.
Abstract visualization also raises questions: Is light easily understood as God? The answers will vary depending upon the socialization and individuality of the reader, with readers more familiar with the idea of God as light perhaps easily recognizing the image. Although light maintains a sense of “otherness,” with God being intangible and ethereal, the illustration does create a tangible visualization on which the reader can focus. But, like “the Voice,” light is a form of control and limitation, one that may work against a reader’s own preexisting ideas. It may even work to prevent identification with, or respect, understanding or affection for God. This is because lights themselves are distant, abstract, and unrelatable. Rather, they create a sense of awe and of “wonder.”
Figure 7. Jane Ray. 1990. God as the sun blowing wind over the ark. (Jane Ray. Noah’s Ark. DBID 212.)
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Retellings sometimes anthropomorphically extend representations of God as light by adding a face to the sun (Ray 1990, DBID 212, Fig. 7; Andrews 2005, DBID 284). Faces make God more accessible: his expressions can be understood and the reader can relate to him. When depicted in the sun, God is given permanence, strength, and relevance as a life-giving force; that is a recognizably powerful embodiment, both tangible and intangible. The face being directly incorporated into the object also appears to restrict God to a physical form, one that disappears at night or behind the clouds. If the object God is represented as sometimes having no face, the restriction is exacerbated (as with Ray 1990, DBID 212). The answer to the question “where is God?” may become harder to answer when God is sometimes clearly visible and helping humanity and at other times absent, especially if God is missing when humanity seems in need.
Rather than relying on a face, two retellings depict a hand reaching down from the top left-hand edge of the image, surrounded by (and/or emanating) light (Bell 1901, 17, DBID 193, Fig. 8; Fussenegger 1984, 11, DBID 200, Fig. 43 [p. 279]).14 The oldest is the only illustrated God in the corpus published between 1868 and 1971.15 The illustration is rare because it includes a caption identifying whom the hand belongs to and what is happening in the scene: “GOD INSTRUCTS NOAH ABOUT BUILDING THE ARK,” plus citations from Gen 6:13 and 7:1 (Bell 1901, 17, DBID 193, Fig. 8). These images maintain the ambiguity between literal and metaphorical readings of God’s physical anthropomorphism.
14
Hand-of-God images have a long history based upon hundreds of biblical references, including God’s hand holding the whole world (Job 12:10), God’s mighty hand (Ex 6:1), the hand of God as deliverer of punishment (1 Sam 5:6), God’s finger writing the tablets of the covenant (Ex 31:18), and God’s hand as the source of humanity’s food (Ps 145:16). The earliest surviving visual representation of the hand of the Hebrew God are at the third-century CE, Dura-Europos synagogue (Hachlili 1998, 144–146; Kessler 2006, 129–131). Since then it has appeared in thousands of works including the tenthcentury’s Paris Psalter and Lorenzo Quinn’s 2011 Hand of God sculpture. Tracing the history of the hand of God, and most of the imagery in children’s Bible illustrations, would be possible but is beyond the scope of this study.
15
This is not to say that there were none published, but rather that the visualized God was less common during this time.
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Both representations of the hand of God in the corpus are in traditional, conservative, and literal retellings of the flood narrative. This leads me to suspect that the images are not intended to portray a literal anthropomorphic God but, rather, a metaphorical one. Some readers would probably have this understanding of the images. However, the very literal nature of the retellings also encourages a literal interpretation of God as a physical being, or at the very least as appearing as one when conversing with Noah. Such interpretations may lead to an increasingly alien deity as the reader may ask what the rest of God looks like, and where he is (p. 279). Although avoiding issues such as the appearance of God’s face, it is hard to relate to a disembodied hand; it may even be seen as frightening. A way to reduce these issues (if desired) is to represent God as a man, although inevitably this has its own effects on interpretation.
Figure 8. W. H. H. (signature). 1901. God comes to Noah as a hand in light. (Rev. Charles C. Bell. The Story Of The Promise. DBID 193.)
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In fewer than 10 (of the 263) retellings in the corpus, God is presented in full human form. He is always Caucasian, elderly, male and with grey/white hair and a beard (Habel 1971, DBID 23; Kerr 1992, DBID 226; Windham 1988, DBID 268, Fig. 10; Williams 2004, DBID 273, Figs. 14, 23). In these images, as with all embodied visions of God, he wears clothes, usually some kind of tunic (normally in white or grey). Such interpretations suggest God is a benevolent, wise, friendly, grandfatherly figure and/or a dominant, authoritarian elder statesman. The image of God as such a man is an art-historical tradition, probably stemming from Isa 6:1 and especially Dan 7:9: “an Ancient One (literally ancient of days) took his throne, his clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool.” Particularly famous examples include Michelangelo’s 1511 Sistine Chapel ceiling and William Blake’s 1794 Ancient of Days. This tradition is solidly adhered to by children’s book illustrators. It equates God with authoritative male figures, and as discussed in the next Chapter (pp. 150-151), it equates similar-looking male figures (such as Noah) with God. This visualization is a reminder of the literal, corporeal aspect of “in the image of God”
(םיהלא םלצב, Gen 9:6).
The normative representation of God assumes a patriarchal view of him. This is probably not a deliberate goal of the illustrators. In the Hebrew Bible, God is usually male, and the gendered pronoun “he” is the dominant pronoun used when talking about God outside the Bible, including in this study. The specific image of God used in retellings is nonetheless a symptom of how pervasive the image of God as an older white male has become. Rejecting this exclusivist depiction is, for the retellings at least, almost impossible.16 This is surprising given that (post-1970) retellings depicting God like this are playful and postmodern. They incorporate elements including giants, angels, and talking animals. The primary benefit of
16
Although I know of no obvious diversity in gender or appearance of God in English flood retellings for children, Gillhouse refers to Nancy Wood’s USA-published Mr. and Mrs. God in the Creation
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explicitly representing God visually, especially in picturebooks, is to ensure that he does not slip through the cracks in the word/image relationship (p. 131). It gives the reader a tangible, approachable character. This creates a more fully self-enclosed narrative. Nevertheless it still presents a relatively fixed and controlled God. To lessen this, ambiguity can be (re)introduced through the use of multiple possible images of God.
An early example contains seemingly unconnected images including an angel, light, and a physical man (Anon [c. 1865], 9, DBID 142).17 Two later examples are carefully and deliberately arranged picturebooks. In both, the words and images form a single narrative, but when read as separate narratives (pp. 36-44), they question and challenge each other. The retellings are both illustrated by Sophie Windham. One is Geraldine McCaughrean’s
Unicorns! Unicorns! (1997, DBID 216) and the other, Noah’s Ark, has no identified author
(1988, DBID 268). Both retellings present environmental messages about caring for and protecting nonhuman animals and the earth. Both are unusually creative in their approaches, and yet the differences in the presentation of God create very different interpretations.
Unicorns! Unicorns! includes no explicit visualization of a stereotypical God. Noah’s Ark includes the Caucasian, elderly, bearded male. Unicorns! Unicorns! includes a verbal
reference to God. Noah’s Ark does not verbally refer to God, merely offering a single possible allusion: “Sometimes he [Noah] would look up and nod” (2v). This is extremely rare and the exact opposite of most retellings, in which God is verbally mentioned but never seen. In Unicorns! Unicorns! the sun, clouds, and rain clouds all have faces (3r, DBID 216, Fig. 9). These may or may not be interpreted as God.
17
They are almost certainly stock images; images owned by the publisher that can be used to keep costs down through reuse. Collections of plates specifically for the purpose of being published in Bibles have been in use since at least 1669 (Gaskell 1995, 147). They are still used, particularly in expository children’s Bibles, although in nonexpository children’s Bibles they started to go out of fashion in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Likely examples of stock images in my corpus include the image of God as light (Anon [c. 1866], DBID 135, Fig. 5 [p. 113]; and Anon [c. 1865], DBID 142).
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The imagery in Noah’s Ark is more complex, especially considering its lack of verbal reference to God. It includes very ambiguous images that may be interpreted as abstract ideas of a pantheist God: two disembodied heads in clouds (2v), 6 sunflowers with faces (2v), and a sun and the moon with feline faces (visible through cut-outs, 5r, 6r). There is also more traditional imagery echoing Christian iconography: a light with a halo effect is partially
Figure 9. Sophie Windham. 1997. Rain clouds, sun, wind all crying. Is this God?
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hidden by a cloud, bookended by two grey doves, with a white dove underneath (9v). These images are not necessarily understood as God from the beginning, but upon rereading it becomes easier to see them as an omnipresent God. This is because of the progression in divine imagery in the following pages. Three clouds have windows illustrated. They are literally cut out, through which 3 long-haired, blonde, female angels are visible (10r, Fig. 10).
In the center is a male with a halo. The page-turning action reveals the 3 doves through the reverse of the cut-outs (printed on 9v, visible through 10v) and the angels in full, emptying buckets of water over the ark. Above the angels are more clouds with flowers growing on them and a sun with a face (10v–11r). The presence of the flowers on the clouds and the face in the sun means that the previous representations of the clouds and sun can be reassessed as God. The final depictions of divine imagery are also associated with the sun. In an interior
Figure 10. Sophie Windham. 1988. God in the clouds. (Anon. Noah’s Ark. DBID 268.)
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shot of the ark a sun can be seen, this time with a detailed face and bright rays. It appears in the window, which is both illustrated and a physical cut-out. Words describe “a beautiful light” coming through the window. This sun is clearly intended to represent God. The page-turning action reveals the sun in full, the rainbow, and the white dove with an olive leaf (12r– 13r).
I am an experienced reader and as such I assume that the male is God and that he commanded the females to flood the earth, but I have little grounds to do so. The male appears to be freely floating, while the female angels are enclosed behind frames (that can clearly be shut, enclosing them further). The male is surrounded by the females, including resting his arm above the frame of an angel below him. The male is inactive, while the females are active. All of these elements suggest to me that he is “in charge,” but this is because I have been conditioned to making those associations. Other (child and adult) readers will have their own life experiences, preexisting knowledge, and reading situations to inform their interpretations. The outcome, however, is still an identity-forming image where females are subordinate to males. It is part of the cultural milieu. Androcentrism is a recurring theme in the retellings, and I return to it in the next Chapters in more detail (pp. 158-172; 176-178).
The variety of possible divine images in this retelling suggests an omnipresent, pantheist God. The images suggest the interconnectedness of all things, in keeping with the environmental message of the book. The ambiguities of the representation of God in the images in fact enhance it. The representation also offers the most visual flexibility in interpreting God. Readers, especially accompanying readers, can choose to claim that the imagery indicates a literal or metaphorical God in some or all instances. He can be omnipresent and/or omnipotent, or more limited. He can be monotheistic, pantheistic, or even polytheistic. Flexibility enables the producers of the text to pass over more control to the reader, whether they want to or not. Realistically, this is what happens with all texts as soon
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as they are publically available. When ambiguity is built into the retelling, as indeed it is when God is visually “present through absence,” or substituted in a “stylized presence,” the possible reading options are increased. Ambiguity, as well as the specific image of God as an old man, also seems to correlate to a less destructive God, a God who spends more time and effort looking after people and animals than abstract or purely verbal Gods. When God is clearly seen, especially when the ark is visible at the same time, there is either no destruction (Anon 1988, DBID 268, Fig. 10) or it is visually minimized, with God being absent from the destruction itself (Ray 1990, DBID 212, Fig. 7). In such instances, God’s role as savior is highlighted. In more abstract representations of God, such as the distinctly shaped and colored lights, he is a more ambiguous figure. He has a relationship with his creation, as seen when Noah looks at a light in the sky (Bloch-Tabet 1984, DBID 195, Fig. 6); but, in these retellings, God is also shown to be a destructive force. It is to these dual roles, the savior and punisher God, that I now turn.
The Punisher/Savior God
Along with finding ways to tackle anthropomorphism, producers also have to decide how to present God’s role in the destruction. In the biblical flood story he is both a punisher and a savior (pp. 95, 97). Although there is a lack of specifics, his destruction of humanity and protection of Noah are justified in the story. Conversely, his protection of some animals and Noah’s family is never explained. The destruction of the animals is more complicated. The Hebrew text offers two possibilities for interpreting God’s destruction of them. The narrator tells us that God saw that the earth was filled with violence because it was corrupted by “all flesh” (6:12–13). Either “all flesh” refers also to the animals, in which case their destruction is justified; or it does not, meaning the destruction remains unexplained (pp. 61-62). It is helpful to picture this relationship in a quadrant diagram:
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The location of each actor in the diagram represents whether God justifiably destroyed or protected them, or whether their fate is unexplained in Genesis. We can see that God exists in all 4 quadrants; he is a justified destroyer (punisher), a justified protector (savior), an unexplained destroyer, and an unexplained protector.18 This can be understood as an inconsistent narrative portrayal, but it can also demonstrate that God is limitless, and that he cannot or perhaps should not be explained. The retellings tackle this in different ways, although those including God bringing the destructive flood tend to keep this same basic pattern. Complex relational structures, such as this one, are a challenge to represent. It is easy to describe the different ways in which humanity is justifiably or inexplicably drowned. It is not so easy to describe how these variations relate to each other. To solve this, I present the approach used in a single retelling, with examples of variations from others.
18
The animals not on the ark are located closer to the “Justified” axis because of the ambiguity as to whether or not they are innocent.
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Heather Amery’s Noah’s Ark, with illustrations by Norman Young (1996, DBID 250), is a typical example from the 1990s.19 It is typical because it focuses on Noah (who is slightly rotund), cute animals, and the impossibly small ark (that is nonetheless made with reeds and tar).20 God is never explicitly visualized, but he is implied via a beam of light (Amery 1996, 4, DBID 250). The narrative notes that: “Noah was a good man. He worked hard, growing food for his family. Noah always did what God told him to do” (Amery 1996, 3, DBID 250). Here we have examples of common tropes: Noah is “good,” he “worked hard” and he is obedient to God (pp. 64-68). He does so to care for his family, emphasizing how deserving he is. Noah is nearly always “good” and in retellings with the destructive flood, this goodness is exaggerated (Anon [c. 1948], 10, DBID 169; Wildsmith 1995, inside front cover, DBID 225; Barnes 1947, 5v–6r, DBID 259).
Noah’s goodness is heavily contrasted with the rest of humanity. God said to Noah: “The people are wicked. I’m going to flood the Earth and destroy them all, except you” (Amery 1996, 4, DBID 250). God claims that “the people” are wicked. No illustrations support this and the narrator does not add anything else. The reader is being asked to accept God’s word. In contrast, numerous retellings move God further toward the “justified” marker by visually presenting their crimes (pp. 191-194). Retellers often emphasize that humans knew what they were doing and “chose to disobey God and lead wicked lives” (Watson 1995, 16, DBID 228). Sometimes people are given a chance to change and obey God (Hadley 1862, 17, DBID 134; Taylor, [c. 1948], 7r–7v, DBID 173). In Amery’s example we never find out
19
The same story with exactly the same layout, illustrations, and pagination is part of Usborne Bible Stories from the Old Testament (Amery 1998, DBID 251). This is a reminder that children’s Bibles are commercial objects.
20 Other “typical” examples from the 1990s include Come Aboard Noah’s Ark, written by Deborah
Chancellor and illustrated by Julie Downing (1999, DBID 189); Baby’s First Bible, author unknown and illustrated by Colin MacLean and Moira MacLean (1996, DBID 190); Children’s Picture Bible, written by Carol Watson and illustrated by Lucy Su and Mary Lonsdale (1995, DBID 228); First Bible Stories, written by Carol Watson and illustrated by Kim Woolley (1994, DBID 232); The Bible Storybook, written by Georgie Adams and illustrated by Peter Utton (1994, DBID 280); The Baby Bible Storybook, written by Robin Currie and illustrated by Cindy Adams (1994, DBID 285); The Lion First Bible, written by Pat Alexander and illustrated by Leon Baxter (1997, DBID 310).
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why people are condemned; they are only contrasted with the goodness of Noah. This is not only because of God’s declaration but also because they mock Noah while he is building the ark (another common motif; pp. 194-198).
At this point in Amery’s retelling only Noah will survive. God never tells Noah to save his family. This is an unusual occurance in the corpus and it is probably an unintentional oversight. Noah does protect his family and therefore disobeys God, something clearly not intended. In this retelling, God has ignored Noah’s family, but in others they are described as good (Ralph 1892, 13, DBID 69; Borgenicht, 1994, 36, DBID 83; Anon [c. 1856], 4r, DBID 91; Singleton 1981, 2v, DBID 112). Such occurrences suggest that God’s protection of them is justified. God’s apparent inconsistency is eradicated. This challenges Noah’s moral supremacy, but it enhances the moral character of God, reinforcing the idea that he is just and fair.
What about the animals, though? Without ever saying why, God commands Noah to “build an ark. . . . Then you will save all the creatures in the world” (Amery 1996, 5, DBID 250). At this moment in the narrative, all of humanity will be destroyed except for Noah, and all animals (not only two of every kind) will be saved. The narrator continues: “Then the creatures came. There were two of every kind” (Amery 1996, 9, DBID 250). Only here, and only implicitly, do we learn that not all creatures will survive. By hiding this until now, the unexplained destruction of the animals is disguised. The justified destruction of the wicked and protection of Noah, combined with the permanent presence of cute, smiling, perfectly behaved animals (up to and including the pet dog and duck wagging their tails at each other) push to the background the fact that the majority of the animals drown. Why the animals drown is almost never (if ever) explained in retellings. This does leave room for the possibility that the animals are also being punished for their wickedness, but only through gap filling. Even in the instances when the animals are seen during the destruction, the
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protected animals are highlighted. There almost seems to be the approach, “let us hope nobody notices.” Differences do exist in the retellings, largely surrounding the moment of the destruction itself (pp. 198-211). For God, though, one key outcome is that the quadrant is filled differently. The unexplained destruction of the animals moves further away from the “Justified” axis. Whereas Genesis is ambiguous about why the animals were destroyed, the retellings are not: there is no reason. The lack of justification can be considered a diminishing of God.
The lack of anthropomorphic elements in the retellings, including God’s sense of smell, the act of remembering, and regret, modify God’s character. When it comes to God’s role as punisher/destroyer and protector/savior, the retellings have a different approach. Mostly, as with Amery, they present God in a similar way to Genesis: he still occupies all 4 areas of the quadrant, but with greater disparity. The goodness of the surviving humans, especially Noah, is more heavily emphasized. The surviving animals are, particularly but not exclusively in illustrations, seen to be innocent. The destroyed humans are seen to be wicked to varying degrees, thereby further justifying God’s actions. Only the destroyed animals seem to fall through the cracks in God’s judgment. The major differences lie not in God’s role as punisher/destroyer or protector/savior but in his actions just before, during, and after the flood.
The joint third most common motifs, being represented in 193 retellings, are God commanding Noah to build the ark, God’s promise not to send another flood, and the animals entering the ark. The next most common motif is God announcing the destruction in 184 retellings (the fourth most common motif).21 Aside from occasional variations (when the promise is given despite there being no destruction), this is the standard pattern. It reasonably accurately reflects the basic structure of Genesis. It is the details that vanish, and the details
21
The most common motifs are: the rainbow, the ark floating, and the dove returning with the olive leaf (see Appendix A).
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are what create character in an actor: God sends the wind 78 times and smells the sacrifice 25 times. Even the shutting of the door of the ark, an action that can clearly be interpreted as signalling God’s active protection and salvation of the survivors (pp. 79-80), is only verbalized 89 times (it is never visualized). In this instance, like with the smelling of the sacrifice, some claim can be made that this is because of implications of anthropomorphism, but its effect is to reduce God’s significance.
Despite keeping the same basic pattern of punisher/destroyer and protector/savior, this is all God’s role is in most retellings. His role is not as a character to change or to have an ongoing developing relationship with his creation. God is still involved in the destruction, but he has been minimized. Even here, however, there is one major variation, and that is when the flood itself is transformed and involves no destruction. When this happens, the retelling becomes only a sea journey, sometimes involving God so little that he is neither savior nor destroyer. In such retellings his character is diminished further, as I discuss now.
The Diminished God
In the following Chapters, I address what happened after the flood, especially relating to the animals (pp. 235-243). As a hint: God’s decision to make animals fear humanity is slightly less common than the addition of talking animals (21 as opposed to 25 retellings; cf. Appendix A). For a variety of reasons, God’s role after the flood is, as we will continue to see throughout this study, diminished. This is indicative of the retellings in general, in which God’s role and complex characterization is diminished in relation to Genesis. Sometimes it is because he is not visualized (explicitly or implicitly). In other retellings he is denied direct speech, or his role is greatly reduced. Occasionally he may even be excluded entirely. In the following pages I discuss what affect this has on God in the retellings.
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Despite being included in retellings in detail, God may remain a background character. This is invariably because of the increasing dominance of illustrations. In Chapter Two (pp. 36-44) I looked at The Flood (Royer and Carpentier 1997, DBID 260). In it God is present in all but two doublespreads and has direct speech or tagged thoughts in 7. As in Genesis, he is the only character and the only actor with speech, thoughts, and emotional responses. With only 35 words on each of the 12 doublespreads, the words are less significant than the images. Thus God, despite dominating the verbal text, is usurped by his absence from the images. This is enhanced because the words are frequently encased by the images that often bleed off the page. God is never explicitly illustrated or seen as a “stylized presence” in any of the images. Only two doublespreads may suggest a “presence through absence,” with Noah possibly communicating with God as he looks up (10v–11r, 12v–13r, Fig. 2 [p. 41]). The images filter the words and God, but unlike in illustrations where God is present through absence, the images act as a barrier between the reader and God. This may be intentional. It may be a means to demonstrate that humanity and God are separate. Either way God is the main character, but by keeping him at a distance from the reader, the reader may feel less engaged with the narrative. At the same time, the visually absent God, combined with the sometimes challenging illustrative choices (Fig. 3), creates considerable ambiguity, enabling the reader to develop her own interpretation more easily than in more restrictive retellings.
God is kept at a distance through other means as well. In increasing numbers of retellings God’s commands are presented through indirect speech. The Lion Children’s Bible (Alexander 1991, DBID 73; cf. Anon [c. 1856], 4r, DBID 91; Anon 1992, 2v, DBID 299) offers one example: “God talked to Noah about the flood, and explained his plan. He wanted to save Noah and his family. God told Noah to build a great boat” (9). As with Genesis, the narrator seems to know the mind of God. Whereas the narrator in Genesis enables God to
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speak, here he blocks God. When the author/narrator expresses God without direct speech this may be avoiding the significance of God’s destruction of humanity. It is likely to lessen the impact of God’s role while also avoiding the difficulty of abridging and thereby simplifying or rewriting his speeches. It can even reduce the anthropomorphism because indirect speech limits the imagination less than direct speech. Effectively, God loses prestige. How much prestige is lost depends upon God’s other characteristics, how often he is mentioned, and what his actions are, but only in comparison with other actors.
Some retellings only present God’s direct speeches commanding Noah to build the ark and a promise never to send a flood again.22 In Georgie Adams’s “Noah’s Ark” (1994, DBID 280), God only speaks twice in 12 pages, once to announce the flood, including the drowning of the wicked and saving of (the good) Noah and his (hard-working) family (11), and once to promise “No more floods!” (21). Only once in the intervening pages does the narrator refer to him: “God told Noah that the flood would start in a week” (14). No other role is attributed to God. In such an instance one might expect God to at least be dominant as a framing device, but this is not the case. Rather, belief in and loving God is the frame, with the opening and closing sentences being:
“There was once a man called Noah, who loved God and tried to be good.” (10)
“The next time you see a rainbow, perhaps you’ll tell someone about Noah and the flood and God’s promise, too?” (21)
God is important in the narrative, but what is more important is believing in and worshipping him. The implication of emphasizing worship in the story suggests that the aim of worship, or
22
Three retellings are even more extreme by including only these elements of God’s story. The earliest of the 3 is a Christian didactic message from a mother to her children (Bradford 1866, DBID 22). The next is a fairly typical, heavily illustrated Christian retelling from the 1970s, demonstrating the beginnings of caricatured images, yet with some attempts at historicized placement (Anon 1977, DBID 63). The most recent is a decontextualized animal story that includes frequent verbal and visual references to God (Kerr 1992, DBID 226). This variety makes children’s retellings exciting to read but difficult to generalize about, particularly without the kind of statistical analysis supporting this study.
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at least its result, is reward, salvation, or the favor of God. Other retellings also shift the focus to God as an object of worship serving to diminish God’s role and character within the story, while sanitizing him for consumption beyond it (cf. Davidson 1986, DBID 298). God becomes the object rather than the subject. That worship of God is more significant than God himself may indicate why God is diminished: the adult accompanying reader and/or selector of the text can use the retelling to educate the child reader about God according to her own perspective. This is especially the case in the 224 retellings which are not overtly texts of worship (i.e., with prayers), including Adams’s Noah’s Ark (1994, DBID 280). A retelling may present a form of worship in the narrative, but this does not necessarily equate to explicit calls to worship.
Moving yet further away from the God of Genesis, some retellings do not even include a flood, just unidentifiable water and a boat. A good example is Noah and the
Unicorns by Carey Blyton (1979, DBID 302; cf. Parry 2000, 5v, DBID 156). This
picturebook with 14 doublespreads includes only 3 references to God. The most detailed of these is: “‘This is terrible,’ said Noah again. ‘I really don’t know what we shall say to God. He said quite clearly, ‘two of every animal on the earth.’” (9v; cf. 4v, 7r). In this, and the other two examples (not cited), God only exists because Noah talks about him. Although this does present God through Noah, we as readers only have his word for it (not even the narrator’s). The retelling foregrounds Noah and his understanding of his relationship with God, not God as an independent character or God’s relationship with humanity. In Noah and
the Unicorns God could be ignored or used by an accompanying adult reader as a didactic
pointer. It may also be the case that the author assumed that his or her child readers would have some understanding of who God is. Even if the reader did have a preexisting awareness of God, such an understanding is still dependent upon individual experiences.
