Any university campus that’s been around for this long—Chowan University was founded in 1848—really ought to have its own myths, and so Chowan does in the legend of “The Brown Lady.” More than a hundred years ago, she was described in the school’s yearbook as the daughter of a wealthy family from the region who honored her parents’ wishes by attending Chowan, putting off marriage to her fiancé, but tragically dying during her sophomore year. A different version of her legend has her jumping to her death from the top floor of the school’s famous Columns Building after her husband (or fiancé) dies during the Civil War. But the main detail that remains the same in every version is her preference for wearing a brown gown made of taffeta, one that would rustle as she walked that has earned her the name of “The Brown Lady.” Legend also consistently figures her as a silent ghost, only recognizable by the rustling of her dress in the hall or on the breeze. But her legend continues to speak at Chowan, now honored through an annual quiz bowl tournament pitting teams from different departments against each other (The Brown Lady Academic Bowl) and the magazine that you’re now reading.
Timothy Hayes
Faculty Editor
Associate Professor of English
Destiny Vaughan Graphic Design & Studio Art
Honors College Student Association
Olivia Wheeler
Elementary Education
Honors College Student Association
Flaire Novak
Business Administration
David Ballew
Associate Professor of History
Bo Dame Professor of Biology and Physical Sciences
Danny B. Moore Professor of History
Jennifer Groves Newton Assistant Professor of Graphic Communications
Catherine Vickers Instructor of English
Welcome to the 11th edition of The Brown Lady, a creative and academic magazine that honors some of the most impressive work created by Chowan University students during the past year! I invite you to explore and celebrate the impressive array of outstanding writing and artistic creations in this issue. Two important things to notice this year: First, we begin our second decade with a bold new overall design. And second, we take time to celebrate the legacy of other magazines created by past students in this special year, the 175th since Chowan’s founding in 1848.
This year’s edition begins with Crystal Bibbins’s story, “Emotional Mess (Sweets),” which captures an important slice of college life: the roommate experience. This is followed by our first block of art. Dave Clark’s vibrant “FLY GUY” and Destiny Vaughan’s iconic and colorful “Blinding Pigments” (also featured on our cover) bookend two striking and up-close glimpses of nature from Skadi Kylander: “Lingering Lithobates” and “The Perfect Spot.” Erica Mock’s celebration of Egypt’s first female Pharaoh, “Hatshepsut,” closes out the first half of this year’s edition.
Our second art section comes next. Destiny Vaughan’s accomplished “Mirror Reflection” joins a long line of artists creating self-portraits. Sreshta Puducheri takes our centerfold this year, presenting two vivid and candid views of Indian life, “Rajputs” and “Chai Time.” These are followed by Corey Spruill’s skillful capture of the messiness of life in his “Chaotic Mind.” We return to creative writing next, starting with two different versions of hiding. Daniel Horne’s “A Day in the Life of Covid-19” captures with great perception the enforced isolation of the early days of the Covid pandemic. And Amber Mann portrays a form of self-isolation in her poem “Hiding in Plain Sight.” Following these poems is Connor Smith’s memorable and atmospheric encounter with nature in his story “A Night with the Dogs.”
In the final third of the issue, more treasures await. One final art block offers great variety and innovation. Hamilton Darden II’s “Wally Spiked” has the look and refinement of a professional advertisement. Savion Woodley’s class project becomes much more in his “Wolverine in Fruit.” Beautiful flowers get their moment in the sun in Skadi Kylander’s “Lobelial Gateway” and Destiny Vaughan’s “Golden.” And Tre’yon Grace captures swagger and confidence in his “Color Tree.” Next, Amber Mann honors the power of “Secrets” in her poem. Marshall Stevens tells a harrowing yet triumphant story of personal struggle in his story “Our Virtual Demons.” And David Joyner closes this year’s issue with an impressive exploration of a different side of C.S. Lewis—his harsh criticism of imperialism and racism—in his essay “Silence No Longer.”
On behalf of this year’s editorial board, I invite you to spend some time with each of these remarkable works in the weeks, months, and years to come. I hope you are as proud of these gifted students as we are. Enjoy . . . and, as always, be sure to congratulate this year’s contributors!
Dr. Tim Hayes Faculty Editor2023 is a very important year in the history of Chowan University, as it marks the 175th anniversary of its founding. In that long history, several magazines—though perhaps not as many as you might think—were created by the students of Chowan. We’re very fortunate to have digital scans of two of them. The first, undoubtedly the earliest publication in Chowan’s history, The Casket, was published in 1854, only a few years before the cataclysm of the Civil War. 60 years later, in the midst of World War I, Chowan students created another magazine, The Columns. Thanks to good luck and the work of the UNC-Chapel Hill libraries, we have digital scans of one precious issue of The Casket and several issues of The Columns from 1914-1917.
When Chowan’s 175th Anniversary Committee asked if The Brown Lady could feature these publications in some way, I eagerly accepted the invitation. Choosing what to feature from these glimpses of the past was challenging, but I ultimately settled on three poems, one from The Casket and two from the inaugural issue of The Columns, each of which offers a telling and often humorous glance into student life in those eras (including 1854, when the entire school existed in one building, the McDowell Columns Building). Please take a few minutes to enjoy these gifts from the past before exploring the accomplishments of today’s Chowan students!
Gems, gems for the Casket! I asked day and night; Give gems for the Casket, all sparkling and bright! None heeded my cry, till in sorrow I turned, And in secret the Casket all empty I mourned.
To the Principal, first, I hastened for aid; Lo! a cloud on his brow—not a word he essayed: Then I knew that his thoughts were far, far away, By the blue rolling waves of the Chesapeake Bay.
To the Reverends, next, all submissive I go: They list to my tale—perhaps, pitied my woe— But they gave me, alas! not one single gem. I forgive, but I hoped better treatment from them.
How sad now my heart, as I looked through my tears,
And the Casket, still empty, before me appears. But a bright thought is left: to the Ladies I’ll go; While Hope fondly whispered, They will lighten thy woe.
To the Mistress of Painting I hastened away, Exclaiming, "A gem for the Casket, I pray!" I trembled, as palette and brushes all fell, Lest the frown on her brow on the picture should dwell.
Then I hied to the one that, with magical art, Sways the sceptre of love o’er each juvenile heart; She laughed and exclaimed, as I ventured my plea, "Ask sunbeams from gourds, but not jewels from me!"
How sadly I turned, while grief bowed my head, To the one from whose cheeks health’s roses have fled!
The glance of her eye told her heart was with me, But the flesh was so weak that I urged not my plea.
Next, my burdened heart turned to the musical band.
Should I venture of them a gem to demand?
I knew not, alas! if their souls were in tune; And, fearing some discord, I asked not the boon, Save of one, whose heart fond pity did move
To grant me a gem all glowing with "Love," Which the Casket enshrines with its splendor so bright,
To gladden the hearts that may listen to-night.
Grown bold by success, I now ventured near The "Master of Signs," though not without fear, Lest to him it should seem like presumption of mine To expect gems rare as his for me to enshrine.
I looked for a frown, but the light on his brow Chased the gloom from my heart, sorely burdened till now;
And the "gem" which he gave, Oh! how bright does it shine!
"Fact," garnished by "Fancy," breathes forth in each line.
Thanks, thanks, kindest sir! May "Fancy" portray Joys less brilliant than "Facts," that shall gladden your way.
Thanks, thanks, gentle lady! May your portion be "Love,"
While you sojourn on earth and in mansions above.
Gems, gems for the Casket! The strain I’ll prolong. Gives gems for the Casket! shall still be my song. When the Casket is broken, they will all, on my part, Be embalmed in the innermost shrine of the heart.
Dear old Chowan, dear old Chowan, How dearly do we love thee!
How proud are we that we are here, Our loyalty to prove thee.
Nowhere do birds sing quite so sweet.
Nowhere do school girls look so neat. In all the sunny South so fair, No place is there above thee.
Dear old Chowan, dear old Chowan, With all its nooks and bowers, Where students stroll and talk and play Among the grass and flowers.
Nowhere the sun shines half so bright; Nowhere are moonbeams half so white. Within thy walls and campus fair, How quickly pass the hours!
Dear old Chowan, dear old Chowan, In time we all must leave thee, But by our words and deeds of fame A history we'll weave thee. No matter what the times may bring, Thy praises will we always sing. May this our aim, our whole lives be— We'll nothing do to grieve thee.
E. W. Students are the smartest At Chowan.
The teachers work the hardest At Chowan. But results are the haziest—
Stella is the laziest— And autos get the craziest— At Chowan.
Days are the bluest At Chowan.
Demerits are the fewest At Chowan.
While teachers are the keenest On the girls that are the meanest— They never catch the greenest— At Chowan.
Cuts are the shortest At Chowan. Honor system broadest At Chowan.
While books are the newest— Facts are the truest—
And are studied by the fewest— At Chowan.
Lights burn the brightest At Chowan.
The fourth floor’s the lightest At Chowan.
The west end is the sauciest—
For the girls are the bossiest— They stay here till they are the mossiest— At Chowan.
The fountain sparkles briskest At Chowan.
The calves frisk the friskiest At Chowan.
The Main Building’s the homeliest— The Wise graveyard the loneliest— And the broad campus the onlyest— At Chowan.
If hell felt anything like this, then it was ample motivation for Sweets not to go; not that she had planned on going, anyway. She sat in class, head resting heavily in her hand, as her English teacher droned on about logical fallacies. He was trying to get the class engaged and was only rewarded with a loud, awkward silence before he cleared his throat and continued. It wasn’t his fault; nobody wanted to identify red herrings in a stuffy classroom on a Friday afternoon.
Sweets sighed and fought to stay awake. She was caught in this torturous cycle of glancing up at the clock for a few moments before her eyes wandered and fluttered shut. Then she had to resist the sweet feeling of resting her eyes from the ugly mustard yellow walls and pry them back open. She wanted nothing more than for the class to be over, yet the hands on the clock showed no mercy. As her eyes drifted shut yet again, she was startled awake by a loud chime and harsh vibration from her phone resting on the table. Her eyes darted toward her teacher, who seemed just as flustered. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and asked that all phones be silenced. A flood of embarrassment washed over Sweets as she checked the notification.
It was from Aideen. Sweets sat up and placed her phone face down on the table; suddenly, the class seemed a lot more bearable. As she answered questions about argumentative
elements, a sense of dread filled her body. What could she possibly have done to prompt a text that sounded so hostile? The dorm was a bit messier than normal, but Sweets had been meaning to clean up for the past couple of weeks. Other than that, she hadn’t really been around. This was bad. Sweets couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and that scared her. She rubbed a sweaty palm on her bouncing leg and tried to focus; she was wide awake now and didn’t care if she was essentially carrying on a conversation with the teacher.
The class ended all too soon, and Sweets scrambled to find an excuse to stay longer. It was futile. Any further conversation with her teacher would come around to the work she was missing, and she had no intention of having that discussion. Sweets took her time packing her things and walked as slowly as she dared back to her dorm. The large trees and pond shimmering with sunlight failed to capture her attention this time, as she tried to talk down the surging waves of fear. By the time she reached the door, she was relatively calm and resolved to hear what Aideen had to say without crying. After all, how much hostility could honestly be put in a text message?
Sweets opened the door, and all her resolve was blasted away by a whirlwind of anger. Aideen was yelling and gesturing wildly, horribly red in the face.
“It isn’t fair!” she yelled. “It isn’t right for you to just run off and be gone all day, leaving me to take care of all the chores, knowing damn well
we’ll both be fined if we fail room inspections! You might have the money for it, but I’m barely scraping by, even with all my scholarships, scholarships that I’m at risk of losing any day now because I can’t f—king sleep. It’s hard enough as it is, and then there’s you, stumbling in at 3 am, dropping keys and sh—, thinking you’re being quiet. Just as I’m finally, finally, about to drift off after hours of struggling, BAM, you’ve pushed my sleep schedule back another 12 hours. My routine is f—ked because of your bumbling around like some lost, idiotic child, leaving me to pick up the slack.”
Sweets didn’t even get the chance to start processing before Aideen grabbed her by the wrist. She followed mindlessly as she was led to their room.
“Look at this! It’s a goddamn pigsty! You look like you’re living in a trash heap! You want me to treat you like an adult, but you haven’t done a single thing to deserve it! It’s a miracle we don’t have bugs yet, because this is f—king disgusting. It’s disgusting, and you need to get your sh— together.”
So that’s what this was about. A feeling of shame rose within Sweets as she observed her side of the room. Her bed was a mess, with pillows strewn haphazardly. The desk was covered in a mass of crumpled papers and used dishes, and you couldn’t even sit in the chair because of the pile of clothes threatening to topple over at any moment. She glanced over at Aideen, who glared with her piercing green eyes.
“Clean it up,” she said, her voice laced with disgust. “You might be okay with it, but I’m not, and the school won’t be, either."
Sweets fixed her eyes on the ground and struggled to hold back her tears. It never worked, but she could at least hold it until she was by herself. She forced a small smile and nodded. Yes, she was listening. Yes, she understood. Yes, she would do as told and stave off the sense of disappointment for as long as possible, until she inevitably messed up again. Sweets looked Aideen in the face and forced herself to speak. “You’re right,” she said, mentally pushing the words out of her mouth. It took a lot of effort, but staying silent in a moment like this would only frustrate Aideen even more. “I’ll clean it up. Just give me a second.”
It was getting harder to keep from crying, so Sweets made her way to the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her. She inhaled deeply and let out a shuddering sigh as the tears slid down her face. Despite her attempts to keep quiet, she began hiccupping, which made her break down even more. She cursed the bathroom ventilation for being so quiet. The one at home was much louder and perfect for moments like this. Sweets thought that she would have mastered silent crying by now, but it seemed to be yet another thing she failed at.
She sat on the toilet and waited for her emotional wounds to heal. She closed her eyes and envisioned her body emanating light in a gentle shade of purple. The body of light was riddled with cracks, and Sweets waited for the jagged black lines to merge and close, leaving tender scars. As soon as it seemed she could function without reopening the wounds and bursting into tears, Sweets stood and left the bathroom. It was time to clean.
With a focused mindset, it was as if a wall was set up surrounding Sweets and the task she set
out to do. Her brain processed just enough to move smoothly and shut out anything deemed irrelevant. But while the mental wall shut out her external environment, it could not prevent a rotating string of thoughts from flitting to and fro, providing background noise as she cleaned.
Aideen was right. She can see right through this innocent and naïve act you put up. You might be able to fool everyone else, but she will always know how fake you are.
Sweets placed the last clean dish in the rack and wiped down the counter.
You’ve stressed her out and turned her into a control freak because you’re too lazy to pick up after yourself. You’re a bad friend and a horrible roommate.
The contents of the dustpan were emptied into the trash.
You’re a child, a spoiled brat. A complete embarrassment to those who have to put up with you.
Trash was thrown in the dumpster.
You’re such a wreck.
Floors vacuumed.
You can’t do anything right.
Desk cleaned.
Why can’t you just be normal?
Clothes folded.
“Really, Saccharin?”
Wait. That thought wasn’t hers. Sweets looked up, as an item was snatched out of her hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aideen looked at Sweets, frustrated and confused about something. But what?
The window. Sweets had detached the window in order to clean both sides. Was that too far? Did the windows not need to be cleaned, or was she not cleaning it right? She looked at Aideen, desperate for an answer.
Instead, Aideen just rolled her eyes and sighed. “Here, put this back.” She gave the windowpane back to Sweets.
Sweets reattached the window and looked at Aideen expectantly.
“Look,” Aideen started, “I suppose I didn’t have to yell at you the way I did, but you didn’t have to do that.” She gestured to the window. “That was ridiculous. Anyways, all I’m asking is that you keep things clean around here. Don’t ever let it get like that again. I know you aren’t around very often anymore, but you deserve a better space than that.”
No you don’t, she’s just saying that. You know it’s bad when even Aideen is trying to make you feel better.
Did she really mean it? Honestly, it didn’t matter. Sweets didn’t have the mental energy to overthink this. She sighed, letting go of the subject. “You’re right,” she said. “I’ll try to do better from now on.”
Aideen looked relieved. “Well, I suppose you should go now. I know you’ve got class soon.”
Sweets had actually forgotten about the class but wasn’t going to turn down an excuse to leave. She gathered her things and went off in search of a spot for a proper cry and a nap.
Skadi Kylander
The Perfect Spot
Egypt is geographically isolated with welldefined boundaries, such as the Mediterranean Sea, deserts, and large barriers of igneous rock.1 As a result of such defensive barriers, Egypt was one of the world’s earliest and most magnificent civilizations.2 Since the Ancient Egyptian civilization dates back to 3100 BCE and consists of more than thirty dynasties, they clearly had a successful system of government. Egypt made sure the Pharaoh leading their country wanted the best for the country and its people, as well as their own legacy. By maintaining a strong government, military defense, and diplomatic relationships with other nations, they ensured the country would not have to endure wartime or fall to another empire. Another key role all Pharaohs had to possess while ruling was a relationship with the Egyptian gods. This relationship would make the gods happy and allow Egypt to stay in good standing with them. Among the rulers who had great success in achieving those goals was the first woman Pharaoh of Egypt, the mighty Queen Hatshepsut. Hatshepsut was one of the finest Pharaohs in Ancient Egyptian history due to her strong ties with other nations and her breathtaking architecture.
Hatshepsut did not just accidentally stumble into power—she was born into it. Hatshepsut was the oldest daughter of the mighty Pharaoh Thutmose I.3 She grew up around power and witnessed
important decisions her father made. One of the important things she learned from her father was to cultivate a relationship with Amun-Re, the god whom Egyptians believed had created the universe. Hatshepsut built her own relationship with Amun-Re by engaging in the secret rituals that her father taught her.4 When she gained power as Pharaoh, she grew even closer to the Egyptian gods to the point where she was referred to as the wife of Amun-Re.5
Not only did she become close with Egyptian gods, but her father’s reign enabled her to develop close contact with powerful people and groups throughout the country, including the Senenmut, a highly respected official in the Egyptian government. During her reign, the Senenmut ruled over ninety-one offices in the state, making him one of the most powerful men in Egypt.6 Developing a strong working relationship with the Senenmut allowed Hatshepsut to rule more smoothly, since they were on good terms and were likeminded when it came to governing. Having the leadership background and the connections that Hatshepsut had before she even came to power helped her win over the common folk along with the ruling elite.
Hatshepsut further benefited from being an outgoing, educated woman, which was not
1 Dorothy Stannard, ed., Insight Guide Egypt (Singapore: APA Publication, 1998), 21.
2 Ibid.
3 Kara Cooney, When Women Ruled the World: 6 Queens of Egypt (Washington, DC: National Geographic, 2018), 105.
4 Ibid.
5 Ibid., 123.
6 Barbara Watterson, The Egyptians (Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers, 1997), 129.
common for most Egyptian women.7 During this time, it was unpleasant to be a woman, but it was better in Egypt than in surrounding areas. Women had to conform to what their husband and/or sons wanted in the family, since they were the heads of the household.8 Thutmose I, however, broke from tradition since he saw a great future for Hatshepsut. He thus arranged for her and her brother, Thutmose II, to become one through marriage. Thutmose II was set to rule after his father’s death, and this marriage allowed Hatshepsut a way through the back door to have influence in Egypt’s future.9
During their marriage, they had a daughter, and one of Thutmose II’s concubines bore him a son, Thutmose III.10 In 1479 BCE, Thutmose II passed away due to poor health, leaving the throne to his only son, Thutmose III, who was only a child when his father passed away.11 Hatshepsut, Thutmose III’s stepmother, initially acted as regent, but that was not enough for her.12 With the empire flourishing in riches, expansion, and prosperity, Hatshepsut decided she had to obtain full power to keep her country strong. In 1473 BCE, she declared herself the first female Pharaoh of Egypt and proceeded to rule until her death in 1458 BCE.13
The move from being the wife of the Pharaoh, to acting regent, to claiming the throne for herself was bold. No one objected to her assuming the
7 Cooney, 106.
role of regent, since several other Queen mothers had done this, too.14 Yet no mother had gone so far as to take the throne for themselves until Hatshepsut. Hatshepsut knew female Pharaohs were unheard of, since Egypt had only been ruled by men, but being a woman did not stop her from leading Egypt successfully. She secured and expanded Egypt’s borders, enriched the elites, built homes for the gods, and engaged in risky trade adventures with faraway lands.15 The people of Egypt and the gods were pleased with her rule and did not consider her gender since she ruled as well as a male Pharaoh, if not better.
Hatshepsut was content with their approval but wanted the people of her land to truly trust in her decision making. Thus, when she commissioned a statue, painting, or carving of herself, she demanded that she be depicted as a male. (To view the wall relief, see Figure 1 below.)16
Hatshepsut illustrated herself in this way to show her people that she had masculine features just like the previous leaders occupying the throne of Egypt.17 She knew she had the backing of the elites and powerful groups of Egypt because of her father’s former roles, but she wanted to have their support because of her actions as well. Her artwork was made as propaganda to promote the physical strength she gained, as well as the strength with which she ruled Egypt. The people of Egypt wanted their “Bull, and so
8 John Ray, Reflections of Osiris: Lives From Ancient Egypt (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 43.
9 Rosalie F. Baker and Charles F. Baker, Ancient Egyptians: People of the Pyramids (Cary, NC: Oxford University Press, 2001), 90.
10 Watterson, 100.
11 Ibid.
12 Ibid.
13 The terms for the Egyptian leader can be used interchangeably: Queen, King, or Pharaoh. Watterson, 100; Baker and Baker, 90.
14 Baker and Baker, 90.
15 Cooney, 99-100.
16 "Thebes - Deir el Bahari (Temple of Queen Hatshepsut - relief on a wall of the Queen), 1."
17 Cooney, 144.
she gave it to them.”18 She did so most notably by her commercialization of Egypt and her tasteful architecture.19
Hatshepsut knew she had to spread the Egyptian religion and influences to other lands like no other Pharaoh before her. To help achieve that, she created and maintained a well-organized military, ready to fight if needed.20 Many historians believe that Hatshepsut’s feminine nature precluded her from organizing any violent military expeditions, but, in reality, there were no physical wars during her time due to her leadership.21 She led Egypt peacefully through the connections that she built with her people and other nations. One connection that really put Hatshepsut and Egypt on the map was her expedition to the Land of Punt. It is believed that Punt was located in the East Sudan bordering Northern Ethiopia, nearly 1,200 kilometers away from Egypt.22 The two main reasons for this expedition were to please the god Amun-Re and to bring luxury goods back to Egypt.
When Hatshepsut announced her plan to voyage to the Land of Punt, the people of Egypt were confused as to why the female Pharaoh wanted to go to a land most had never heard of before and to which no other Pharaoh had ever gone. Hatshepsut explained that this expedition
18 Ibid., 145.
19 Watterson, 101.
was not her idea but was a direct order from her divine father the god Amun-Re.23 Due to Hatshepsut’s close relationship with Amun-Re, she was able to communicate with him much more easily than any other Pharaoh. According to Hatshepsut, Amun-Re saw the Land of Punt as part of his land and wanted to connect the two countries under one religion.24 He thus pushed for an Egyptian leader to find Punt and save the land. Hatshepsut heard the calling and knew it was her religious duty to venture to Punt and spread Amun-Re’s ideas to the people.25 The Egyptians listened to their female Pharaoh and, more importantly, to their god and sent out an expedition to Punt.
This new connection did not just spread the word of Amun-Re but also created a new trading relationship between the two nations. Hatshepsut saw this possibility to both complete the mission for Amun-Re and complete a mission for herself to bring home new goods. While in Punt, Hatshepsut obtained many precious and luxurious items: aromatic gum, gold, ebony, ivory, leopard skins, live apes, and incense trees.26 Hatshepsut was thrilled to be able to bring back all these goods to her empire. She and her fellow Egyptians thus boarded five ships and set out for Punt from a Red Sea port.27 (To view the ships, see Figure 2.)28 The ships the Egyptians used were
20 Christelle Alvarez, Arto Belekdanian, Ann-Katrin Gill, and Solène Klein, Current Research in Egyptology (Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2016), 114.
21 Ibid.
22 Watterson, 101.
23 Alvarez et al., 115.
24 Ibid.
25 Ibid., 116.
26 Watterson, 101.
27 Ibid.
28 'Egyptian soldiers in the expedition to the Land of Punt, (Temple of Hatshepsut, C, 1490 b.C.18th Dynasty, New Kingdom, Deir elBahari, Egypt)."
not the best option for a voyage through the Red Sea. Despite that, after twenty to twenty-five days on board, they made it to Punt.29
While the boats were being docked, Hatshepsut and Punt’s chief, Perehu, became acquainted with another. Hatshepsut then treated her people and the people of Punt to a feast of Egyptian food as a celebration of their arrival.30 By feeding both nations, she showed Punt the power that Amun-Re gave his female Pharaoh. Feeding all her people plus those of a foreign nation emphasized her ability to rule.31 In addition to a meal, Egypt gave Punt a modest present of a few weapons and trinkets.32 Not only did these actions demonstrate her power as Pharaoh; they also made the leaders of Punt build a stronger connection with her and Egypt, since they saw what Hatshepsut was capable of constructing. This encouraged the people of Punt to start their journey with the god Amun-Re and save their land from evil that they believed the devil would otherwise deliver.
Hatshepsut, along with the Egyptians on the five boats, completed a voyage no other dynasty was able to accomplish. Once they returned from the voyage, Hatshepsut displayed her new goods in her Mortuary Temple, which represents the second element demonstrating her power. Hatshepsut designed a courtyard in the center of her temple to plant the thirty-one incense trees that the Land of Punt gifted her, which she had transported back in rooted baskets.33 (To view
the incense trees, see Figure 3.)34 Hatshepsut ordered the incense trees planted in the center of her temple to continue to establish her power with the people of Egypt. The incense trees, along with the other tropical plants in her temple, were symbolic of how she was dominating another country. This gained even more respect from her own people. Hatshepsut’s other great project during her reign was her breathtaking Mortuary Temple.
In the 18th dynasty, the government realized that there were tombs from the great temples of previous Pharaohs that had been robbed. To prevent that from happening to her, Hatshepsut broke the tradition of being buried in a pyramid and instead created her Mortuary Temple at the entrance to the Valley of the Kings where she would be buried.35
The Mortuary Temple at Deir el Bahari was also designed as propaganda for Hatshepsut’s reign. The location, the medium, and, more importantly, where she had the temple placed all served to promote her power. The Temple looked quite different compared to other Pharaohs' temples, but it represented her difference as being the first female Pharaoh. In addition to the difference between temples, her temple was considered the holiest of holy places, since Amun-Re had blessed it.36
The Senenmut, the Chief Royal Architect, who was a great friend of Hatshepsut, designed the temple for her.37 He set the temple in a
29 Watterson, 101.
30 Ibid.
31 Alvarez et al., 116.
32 Watterson, 162.
33 Alvarez et al., 116.
34 Nina de Garis Davies, "Men from Punt Carrying Gifts (Tomb of Rekhmire)."
35 Stannard, 226.
36 Watterson, 160-161.
spectacular natural amphitheater against the backdrop of cliffs and partially hollowed out natural rocks.38 (To view Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple at Deir el Bahari, see Figure 4.)39 Hatshepsut worried about the approval of her people, so she wanted them to see that everything she did was for them, even creating her Mortuary Temple. Instead of transporting foreign materials to build her temple, she had workers carve the temple out of the natural landscape the land of Egypt had to offer.40 The Temple thus looks as though it was formed from the land, and that is how Hatshepsut wanted it to appear. She hoped people would see her like her temple that was built from the natural root of Egypt, ruling only in their best interest.
In addition to the medium from which the Mortuary Temple was constructed, it is also positioned on the same axis as the sunrise and sunset.41 Many other holy historic memorials were placed on the same axis for the reason that it seemed as though the gods were shining their light on her temple all through the day. Repeatedly, Hatshepsut used her natural surroundings to incorporate Egypt’s beauty into everything she created. This is possibly the reason she ruled the land so well: she truly loved Egypt and all the natural beauty and wanted other Egyptians to be able to reminisce about the beauty she saw.
Hatshepsut’s Temple was placed at the entrance to the Valley of the Kings, which was a burial area for powerful nobles and Pharaohs, whose tombs
37 Stannard, 227.
38 Stannard, 226; Watterson, 160.
Hatshepsut: A Truly Revolutionary Queen
were no longer being placed in their temples.42 It is significant that Hatshepsut was one of the first Pharaohs to be buried with the nobles and common people of Egypt instead of by herself. She truly was a ruler for Egypt’s people and thought of herself as one of them. And what better place to construct her Mortuary Temple than right in front of the people she ruled during the 18th dynasty? Once again, she showed that the temple was not just for her but for her people, too.
Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple was more than a monument; it was a testament to her accomplishments while ruling. Throughout the Temple, Hatshepsut created an outline of her life before, during, and after her time as Pharaoh. If visitors were to tour the temple, they would see relief walls depicting important events in Hatshepsut’s life, including her birth, her powerful military, her travels to the Land of Punt, and the transformation of many godly temples she reconstructed during her reign. (To understand what a visitor would see, consult Figure 5.)43 Again, this was Hatshepsut and the Senenmut’s plan not only to glorify Hatshepsut as the first female Pharaoh of Egypt but also to demonstrate that she ruled Egypt better than any other Pharaoh.
Unfortunately, if someone went to Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple at Deir el Bahari today, they would not see the clear pictures she created. Hatshepsut ruled until her death in 1458 BCE, when she was succeeded by her stepson,
39 Carole Reeves, "Mortuary Temple of Queen Hatshepsut (1498-1483 BCE)." (Note that these dates are incorrect and do not match Hatshepsut's reign.)
40 Giulio Magli, Architecture, Astronomy and Sacred Landscape in Ancient Egypt (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 191.
41 Stannard, 192.
42 Stannard, 226.
43 Leonard Currie, "Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, Valley of the Queens, Egypt."
Thutmose III. One of the first orders he gave his servants and officials was to erase Hatshepsut from Egyptian history.44 His helpers removed Hatshepsut’s name from all records throughout Egypt, including the list of Kings. They proceeded to destroy and deface Hatshepsut’s face in her Temple, but they did not erase her name.45 Thankfully, historians decoded the words on the temple and pieced together the art work on the walls to discover Hatshepsut’s history. If it were not for Thutmose III’s incomplete effort, historians might never have come upon the legacy of Hatshepsut, leaving her rule unknown to the modern world and offering no inspiration for up and coming female leaders.
Even though Hatshepsut is now considered one of the best Ancient Egyptian Pharaohs, for centuries her reign was suppressed by the jealousy of men. Queen Hatshepsut demonstrated all the great qualities that the past Pharaohs possessed and also enacted new ways of leadership that became an expectation for future Pharaohs. Those expectations may explain why her immediate successor sought to destroy and hide her achievement: she set an imposing example that Thutmose III may not have felt he could live up to. He thus tried to erase her and her reign from existence.
Fortunately, he failed in that endeavor. Unfortunately, Hatshepsut is just one of many women whose stories have been initially covered up due to their gender. History courses need to be updated and highlight Hatshepsut and her fellow female leaders; by teaching their stories, young students will see that their gender does not matter but how hard they are willing to work and how hard they are willing to fight—that is
what determines success. In our time, we need to uplift and encourage young women to go into leadership roles, most of which have never before been held by a woman. Learning the history of Hatshepsut might just accomplish that goal.
- Deir el Bahari (Temple of Queen Hatshepsut - relief on a wall of the Queen), 1. Queen Pharaoh Hatshepsut on a relief wall depicted as a male Pharaoh due to the beard and head dress.
One
Hatshepsut: A Truly Revolutionary Queen
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Currie, Leonard J. "Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, Valley of the Queens, Egypt," n.d, https://jstor.org/stable/ community.16837314.
de Garis Davies, Nina. "Men from Punt Carrying Gifts, Tomb of Rekhmire." Images, n.d. https://jstor.org/ stable/community.27215549.
Monderson, Frederick. "Hatshepsut’s Temple at Deir el Bahari." Bloomington, Indiana: AuthorHouse, 2007.
Reeves, Carole. "Mortuary Temple of Queen Hatshepsut (Reigned 1498-1483 BCE, Dynasty XVIII), Deir ElBahari, Thebes." Digital Images, n.d. https://jstor. org/stable/community.24808349.
"Thebes - Deir El Bahari, Temple of Queen Hatshepsut - Relief on a Wall of the Queen." Digital Images, n.d. https://jstor.org/stable/ community.24723216.
Tola, Maya. “The Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut,” Daily Art Magazine, May 12, 2020. https://www. dailyartmagazine.com/temple-o-hatshepsut/ "Wall Carving at Temple of Deir-El-Bahari." Digital Images, n.d. https://jstor.org/stable/ community.24796550.
Alvarez, Christelle, Arto Belekdanian, Ann-Katrin Gill, and Solène Klein. Current Research in Egyptology. Oxford, UK: Oxbow Books, 2016. https://search. ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nle bk&AN=1244055&site=ehost-live.
Baker, Rosalie F., and Charles F. Baker. Ancient Egyptians: People of the Pyramids. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2001. https://search.ebscohost. com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=187 581&site=ehost-live.
ContentEngine, L.L.C., trans. "The Opet Temple in Luxor Opens to the Public After Months of Restoration." Miami, Florida: CE Noticias Financieras, Apr 19, 2019. https://login.proxy038.
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Cooney, Kara. When Women Ruled the World: Six Queens Of Egypt. Washington, DC: National Geographic Partners, 2018.
Daly, Martin, ed. The Cambridge History of Egypt: Modern Egypt. Kettering, Mich.: Cambridge University Press, 1998. "The Female Pharaoh Hatshepsut." Images, n.d. https://login.proxy038.nclive.org/login?url=https://www.jstor.org/ stable/community.18412698.
Galford, Ellen. Hatshepsut: The Princess Who Became King. Washington, DC: The National Geographic Society, 2007. Goldschmidt, Jr., Arthur. Historical Dictionary of Egypt (Fourth Edition). Plymouth, UK: The Scarecrow Press, 2013. Hilliard, Kristina, and Kate Wurtzel. “Power and Gender in Ancient Egypt: The Case of Hatshepsut.” Art Education Volume 62, Number 3 2009: 25–31. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20694765.
Kim-Brown, Caroline. "THE WOMAN WHO WOULD BE KING." Humanities Vol 26, Iss. 6, November/December 2005: 18-21. https://login.proxy038.nclive.org/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/magazines/woman-who-would-beking/docview/236387692/se-2?accountid=10098.
Magli, Giulio. Architecture, Astronomy and Sacred Landscape in Ancient Egypt. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=574861&site=ehost-live.
Moorehead, Alan. The Blue Nile. New York: Harper and Row, 1962.
Petry, Carl F. The Cambridge History of Egypt: Islamic Egypt. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998.
Price, Campbell, Roger Forshaw, Andrew Chamberlain, and Paul Nicholson, eds. Mummies, Magic and Medicine in Ancient Egypt: Multidisciplinary Essays for Rosalie David. Manchester University Press, 2016. https://search. ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=1281573&site=ehost-live.
Ray, John. Reflections of Osiris: Lives From Ancient Egypt. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. https://search. ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=146943&site=ehost-live.
Redford, Donald B. The Wars in Syria and Palestine of Thutmose III. Leiden: Brill, 2003. https://search.ebscohost.com/ login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=132914&site=ehost-live.
Stannard, Dorothy, ed. Insight Guide Egypt. Maspeth, NY: Langenscheidt, 1998.
Thornton, Kendra. "Egypt." Luxury Travel Advisor March 2019: 44-5, https://login.proxy038.nclive.org/login?url=https:// www.proquest.com/trade-journals/egypt/docview/2282383317/se-2?accountid=10098.
Watterson, Barbara. The Egyptians. Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell, 1997.
Destiny Vaughan
Daniel Horne Dreams are curious things
Dreams dream of worlds with Dreams of worlds without Dreams of days gone past
And dreams of days yet to be
I dreamt a dream
Last night
Cozy in my bed
Wrapped in sheets
Shielding me from the world
In my dream
I was safe
There were no fires
There was no plague
There was a choice on how to live
In the dream, there were towers
Reaching to the sky
People walked through them
Like water through a river Or time through a clock
Bright days outside
No distance needed
No masks to wear
No fear to see
No plague to spread
But dreams don’t last forever
I have to wake up
You have to wake up
We have to wake up
I wake up I wake up in my bed I wake up in my room
I wake up in my house I wake up in our world
I want to dream
But ring . . . ring . . . ring
The alarm goes off
It’s time for class
I take off my warm, shielding sheets
I sit down
In a chair worn with use
Open my laptop
For the first time till tomorrow
And tomorrow and tomorrow
In class, there is a screen
A screen with many screens
Screens show you, show me
Show them, show us
Show faces just as worn as my chair
Classes end
Just for today
Till tomorrow
Which will be like today
Which was like yesterday
But for now
I close my screen
My connection to my friends
To my classmates
To my professors
I check the air
My phone says green
Green means safe
But it’s not
I put on my mask
The mask my mom made me
And the mask I was born with
The mask I need to face the world
The mask I let the world see
The mask that masks my mask
I walk outside
I see a dog, the dog sees me
I want to pet the dog
The dog wants to be petted
But that’s against the law
I turn on my car
I turn on my will to drive
I turn on the radio
I turn on the street
I turn on the freeway
The empty freeway
Empty of cars
Empty of people
Empty of traffic, for which I am glad
But half a year is still too long
I stand in line at the store
The line to get in the store
Before the line to go down a oneway aisle
Before the line for the checkout
Amongst the other masked masks
I drive back home
Wheels turning
Life turning
The world turning
Never stopping
I cook my meal
I read my books
I do my homework
I stay inside
I see no one
But at six o’clock
I can see my friends
Partitioned by distance
Six states apart
We can play
We role play
We aren’t in our world
I created it
There are no dangers
Other than the monsters
We talk and joke
About classes
About life
About us
Though only for an hour
But for now
I close my screen
My connection to my friends
To my classmates
To my professors
I sit in my room
The sun has set
Darkness inside
Darkness outside
I crawl into bed
Into my warm, shielding sheets
Into dreams
Into illusions
Of safety
I dream of a bright blue sky
I dream of a full classroom
I dream of meeting with friends
I dream of tall towers
I dream of opened restaurants
I dream of waterparks
I dream of being with family
I dream of petting dogs
I dream of traffic
I dream of campus
I dream of football
I dream of not standing in lines
I dream of ice cream
I dream of dragons
I dream of in-person classes
I dream of dreams of a world yet to be
But ring . . . ring . . . ring
There sure was something in the air that night when all of the stars had come out to shine. For the clean air had felt just oh so right, the moon was projecting its brightest light.
As a dark shadow emerged from afar, I noticed its abnormally large eyes. It reached out to me and pulled out a jar. “Read this now,” it said. “And you shall be wise.”
I opened the jar to find some paper, and I read it once then read it again. The figure started to grin and caper. I had thought the figure would be a friend.
As it danced and sucked the light from the moon, I woke up, alone in my room.
Hood up
Earphones in Head down
Smiling at the jokes
Laughing with the others
Hiding the cuts and scars
Making the perfect grades while dying inside
Always handing out hugs and love
All the while feeling pain and emptiness
Saying and doing all the right things
Wishing you were in bed hiding
Instead hiding in plain sight . . .
Imagine, if you will, what you would do if you were locked outside of a farmhouse, in the near freezing cold, overnight. Years ago, in my adolescence, I found myself in this exact situation, desperate for warmth and shelter. This is the story of how I lived to tell the tale of such a treacherous night, one that rapidly descended from a pleasant walk to a fearful dawn in which I found myself nearly helpless in the hands of nature.
I was staying the night at the farmhouse of a good friend, another teenager named Ryan. With only four of us total, there weren’t enough people to call it a party—more of a simple gathering of sorts. But, as the night ran its course, and the bottles ran dry, everyone began to succumb to the call of sleep, all except for me. I acknowledged my current situation, one I had found myself in many times before: if I could not find a way to exhaust myself soon, then I would likely be awake just long enough to fall asleep around sunrise, leading me to sleep the entire day away. I decided the best way to avoid a total inversion of my sleep schedule and enjoy myself in the process would be to take a walk around the vast property. If only I could have known what was to come from such an innocent idea.
I stepped out from the frost-clad sliding glass door, feeling the stale, icy snow crunch underfoot, and I took in my first full view of the fields around me that morning. The near-full moon shone brightly, gleaming off the last of the snow clinging to the cold earth. Here, in the Tidewater region of Virginia, anything more than a dusting was a rare treat. So seldom did it accumulate at all, that, even with only the dregs of the snow
lingering in the fields that encircled me, the land appeared almost alien in nature. With a sharp inhale from the sting of the cold shocking my nose, I realized even the atmosphere was foreign to me, compared to the consistently humid air that blankets the peninsulas I call home.
I set out, one foot moving after the other sluggishly through the snow. Eventually, having made my way to the nearest edge of the field, I began my patrol of the perimeter. With the birds and varmints bedded away, seeking refuge from the bitter cold, all sounds were deafened aside from the occasional muffled passing of a car down the distant roads. Come time that I had traversed about three quarters of the path, I knew that this trek simply would not be enough, and so I decided to extend my walk. The last leg of the walk ran parallel to the back road that bordered one side of the field, so I split off and started on down the side of the road.
I suspect I had walked two miles up the road by the time the sun had begun to peak over the horizon, and, as dawn broke, the realization came to me that I had failed in my efforts of sufficiently tiring myself; I didn’t see a wink of sleep that night. However, the walk was pleasant and a fine way to start most any morning. I kept on until I approached a church. I thought it a good landmark that I could later drive by, so as to appreciate how far I truly walked that morning. By this time, I was growing exhausted like I had desired, but I knew I still had to get back. I began to trudge back cautiously, as the frequency with which cars came and went increased from never to seldom.
Finally, I was back. Not realizing my danger, I walked from the edge of the field to the back door from which I had originally departed. I fixed my eyes on the handle as I approached, then reached out and pulled, and . . . nothing. Again— nothing. I pulled in futility, hoping maybe the frost had just fashioned a firm seal upon the door, but no such luck. Just on the other side of the door, all three of my friends lay peacefully asleep; surely, I could wake them somehow. I tried knocking, then banging as hard as I felt the door could withstand. They weren’t budging and, ripe with concern about breaking the glass, I tried calling each of their cell phones, one after another. Then again. Then back to knocking. I checked the other doors, and no dice. The windows would be a hopeless effort, as they had all been firmly painted shut years ago.
Running out of options, I thought back to when the previous night was still young. We had all shared in drinks and merriment in Ryan’s small garage. Big enough for maybe a car or two fourwheelers at most, it was more like a shed, but sounder and more permanent. Unfortunately, its structural integrity meant nothing to me in that moment, as I sought something more desirable: the succor of warmth. Within that shed lay my saving grace: a wood stove, likely older than me and all three of my friends combined. It rarely saw use, but it had been fired up the night before so I could show my buds how to cook eggs and sausage on such an archaic piece of equipment. I reached for the doorknob, and my whole body was hit with a wave of relief as the knob twisted with ease and the door cracked open, before I was greeted by the barking of the three caged German Shepherds that Ryan’s family quartered in the shed. I had met them all before, so two of them relaxed within minutes. The youngest dog, Rex, on the other hand, was much more leery of new people. I supposed he wasn’t as
accustomed to me as he’d have liked for being in such close quarters and barked incessantly for at least a half hour until he tired himself out.
While I had to deal with his noise, I examined the room I found myself in. It wasn’t room temperature; no, far from. But it felt leagues warmer than the unforgiving outdoor air. I headed for the stove and felt a resounding sense of respite as I discovered that the embers in the stove were still at work, burning and churning out heat. I did all I was able and huddled upright next to the warm, iron construct, feeling the dull heat seep out of it and into me. At last, I could rest. I drifted in and out of sleep for hours, with Rex barking at me whenever I stirred enough to shift my weight.
Eventually, I woke to find my friends and Ryan’s parents standing over me, curious and concerned. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and began to regale them with the hardships that I had endured overnight. Of course, they asked why I didn’t wake them or knock, and even then, I found myself not mad at them or even the situation. It was just funny to me, both then and now. It was a silly situation with potentially dire consequences, from which nothing major arose.
This desolate, unfortunate situation truly opened my eyes. Many who experience such events would say that it taught them how fragile one’s life really is, and how you should take each day with care. While I acknowledge these truths, I saw it as not only offering an opportunity but a necessity of growth. I should know how to survive in the elements, how to make shelter, forage, and make fire for warmth; for what was as little as eight hours this time could be a week in another situation. It is my responsibility as an individual to endure, persevere, and to take my safety and survival into my own hands.
Wally Spiked
Hamilton Darden II
Shush! Do you hear that?
The low whispering of what used to be
The threat of people hearing
The fear of hurting
The pain of the secret leaving
Shush! Do you hear that?
The noise of your head moving when someone whispers near you
The quickening of your heart when the secret gets out
The shaking of the ground when it’s freed
Shush! Do you hear that?
Pain, tears, heartbreak, love, Once the world stops shaking
The secrets are out and forgotten
Shush! Do you hear that?
Silence
Warning: This story contains potentially disturbing descriptions of suicidal thoughts and behavior.
Heading into the Mental Health Services building, I scheduled a therapy session for later that afternoon. My name is Jacob Snow. I am currently 22 years old, and today began the road of recovery for me through therapy. However, this was not the same kind of therapy that people in the early 2000s experienced. It will probably make more sense if I just go back to the story. When the time of my appointment came, I entered a room where my therapist sat waiting. They introduced themselves and asked if I was ready to begin. This was my first time undergoing this kind of procedure, so, of course, I was nervous. I gave them a hesitant nod and sat down in a machine that would put my consciousness into my subconscious and hash out whatever problems lay in my head myself. The therapist strapped my body down so I would not be a danger to myself or them. An intricately wired helmet descended from the top of the machine onto my head. The therapist reminded me, “Once the procedure begins, I can only guide you. Your actions are your own, but, if conflict arises, it becomes life-or-death, and you must try to fight back as hard as you can. Is there anything you would like to say before we begin?”
“I don’t know if they care, but can you tell my family that I’m trying to get better?” I said, with false bravado.
“Certainly.
The earpieces of the helmet descended, fitting snuggly in my ears. It was a little uncomfortable
because I wasn’t the one putting them in, and they were pretty damn cold. In seconds, the machine activated. It scanned my brain, flashing hundreds of my memories like a movie before my eyes.
Then no light, no sound. I found myself in an endless black void, only able to see my own being. Soon, doors of light appeared. They lined up, side-by-side, stretching down what seemed to be an endless hallway. Then a patterned floor, a roof, and lockers like the ones from high school also manifested, colored to grayscale. I walked toward one of the doors. As I peeked inside, one of my memories from when I was younger played. I was in the seventh grade and just found out that my brother’s high school was starting a swim team. I loved to swim—I was even infatuated with it. I found that the feeling of letting tension in my muscles relax and float was peaceful. I discovered a sport that I knew I could enjoy and become stronger while participating. At the first practice, I already found myself to be the fastest on this team of high schoolers. Looking at my younger self, feeling the joy and excitement in his heart—my heart—was nostalgic. Of course, there were an infinite number of doors to look through. So, I kept looking through all of the doors, reliving all the happy moments in my life, like the time I caught my first fish with my dad and my first baseball game. I felt a happiness that I hadn’t felt in years. Sadly, it all came crashing down when I looked through the next door.
This door was not like the others; it was dark and intimidating. Despite my instincts screaming at me to turn away, I approached the door and looked through. What I saw shattered the shield of happiness I had just rebuilt into pieces. Chills went down my spine. This was a compilation of all my worst memories. It showed me arguing with my family, alcoholic stupors brought on by depression, my rage, confusion, and other negative memories. However, at the very end, it focused on my darkest memory. This was not too long ago. It was when I was home with my family for the holidays, in my childhood room. Everyone was out for a while, and I was alone. I saw myself sitting on the floor, no light in my eyes, and a gun in my hand. My breathing became shallow and quick with anticipation because I knew what I would do next. I felt the despair and the hollow heart that I possessed at that time. Though I felt nauseous, I was unable to look away. Finally, I screamed and pulled away as the other me raised the firearm to his right temple. While I tried to catch my breath, the door disappeared, and the other end of the hall darkened.
A figure appeared at the end of the hall. Then another appeared, then another and another. Soon it became an army, and my eyes locked on to these beings. My entire body was paralyzed with fear. They were all me, but their eyes were black, darker than the void of space. No color in their entire appearance. They were purely dark and evil entities. They felt like demons as they glared at me with murderous intent. I could feel it, like knives in my soul. These demons stepped towards me, and I staggered back. The demons smiled with malicious grins, showing their razorsharp teeth. Then, out of nowhere, they shrieked. It was unnatural and pierced my very core. I nearly jumped out of my skin it was so loud.
The demons attacked, charging down the hall toward me. Fight-or-flight kicked in, and I turned to run away from my pursuers. After running what I thought was far enough away, I looked behind me. I was dead wrong; the demons were gaining ground. In an attempt to block their path, I began to throw whatever I could, but to no avail. They were too quick and agile for their way to be obstructed. They caught up with me and tackled me to the ground, beating me to a pulp.
“You're a f—king disgrace!” shouted one.
“Your own family doesn’t love you,” sneered another.
“You’re a waste of time and effort and bring nothing but pain,” said another.
“Everyone would be better off if you were dead,” they said in unison and laughed at my misery. Their laughs echoed through my head, feeling like my skull was being crushed.
As the hall darkened more, a switch flipped. I heard nothing—only the pain from the blows remained. My chest felt heavy, and my mind felt clouded. Sobbing, I began to sink into this darkness, literally drowning in my sorrow and pain. My heart was aching, my light was dwindling, and my hope was fading.
So, this is how I die, huh? Being beaten to death inside my own mind by demonic versions of me. I really am worthless. Everything they said was true. I don’t deserve a happy life, and no one is coming to my rescue. I mean, how could they?
I’m trapped in my own mind. It’s hopeless. Maybe . . . everyone would be better off if I were gone. Let the darkness take hold and carry me off to my eternal slumber. I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, right? Just let my body go cold and numb
myself to everything? No one would even notice, and I doubt anyone would even care . . .
“Get up!”
What was that? I feel like I know that voice, but who is that? Why does it feel warm? How do I know this voice?
I looked up and saw probably the brightest of my memory doors. I didn’t even have to look inside. I could see what was happening. It was when I was a wrestler back in high school during one of our seasonal tournaments. My brother Nathan was there and cheering me on during one of my more challenging matches. I was losing by points, but my brother never gave up hope.
“Don't give up just yet, Jake,” he cried. “You gotta want it, kid! Show them that you’re not afraid of anyone!”
His words of encouragement resounded in my head, filling my soul with hope, and turning my sadness into a divine and prideful fury. I gritted my teeth and shouted at my demons: “Get the hell off me, you demonic sonsabitches!”
I roared, and a blast of light pierced the darkness that once surrounded me. My demons and the darkness that meant to consume and corrupt me were pushed back. I stood tall with the door of light behind me.
“You will not hold me back any longer. I will get better because I’m not alone. I have my family, my friends, and other people who care about me, who will stand by me until the end. I cannot and will not give in to you. So, get the f—k out of my head!”
However, the demons were snarling, preparing to lunge at me again as one rebuked, “No. You’re going to die. Alone!”
As the demon lurched forward, I felt a hand on my right shoulder, pulling me back. Then a fist of light flew past my face and hit the attacking demon square on the jaw.
“Get the f—k away from my brother, you soulless f—king parasites!” shouted the same familiar voice in an enraged tone. Looking over my shoulder, it was my brother Nathan, exuding light from his very being.
“We’ve got your back, kid,” Nathan said smirking. “We’re gonna tear these bastards apart, right, guys? Mess with a Snow, get ready for the blizzard!”
Just as he said our family’s motto, the rest of my family emerged from the door behind us, brimming with light themselves. I smiled, feeling their warmth and believing that I had truly been blessed with the best family. I shifted my gaze ahead and stared down my demons, steeling myself for the upcoming fight. The demons made another unnatural shriek and charged toward us.
“NO! His soul is OURS!”
I shouted to my family, “Let’s crush some f—king skulls!” and my family roared with war cries of their own, bringing forth cracks of light through the walls as we charged forward ourselves. The battle ensued. The demons attacked but were unable to land a single blow against us, whereas my family and I tore through the demons at an alarming speed, together as a family once again. One by one, the demons were beaten
down and turned to ash as they fell. Soon, the brawl was over, and we stood victorious. I looked at my family, beaming with proud, radiant smiles. They gazed toward the door of light, signaling that it was time for me to go back to reality with the knowledge that I wasn't alone.
“Get a move on, son,” said Dad. “We'll be there for you, no matter what.”
With a smile and a nod, I walked to the door, sure that my demons had been beaten and I had acquired a newfound confidence and respect for myself. As the great light faded, the machine deactivated and lifted off my head. I looked at my hands, still feeling the light’s warmth. As I raised my head, I saw my family with tears in their eyes.
“We saw everything, son,” said Dad. “We never realized how much pain you felt.”
“We were so worried we were going to lose you,” said Mom.
They crowded around me, showering me with love, welcoming me back. With a smile and tears in my own eyes, I said, “That will never happen again, Mom. I’m back, but I’ve come back better. I fought the devil, and I’ll continue to live to tell my story, and, from now on, I’ll be good. For all of the times I never allowed myself to be. It’s time to bring this harsh chapter of my life to a close and turn the page to recovery with your help.”
“We are not yet fit to visit other worlds. We have filled our own with massacre, torture, syphilis, famine, dust bowls and with all that is hideous to ear or eye. Must we go to infect new realms?” (173)
“The Seeing Eye,” C. S. Lewis
Most famously known for The Chronicles of Narnia book series and his works on Christian theology, C. S. Lewis has maintained the title of a respected writer even 58 years after his passing. He often specialized in symbolism and allegory in his writings, most notably Christian themes, but he also used these ways of writing to point out the problems and fallen nature of humankind. Such is the case in the first book of The Space Trilogy (also known as the Ransom or Cosmic Trilogy), which is called Out of the Silent Planet (1938). In this novel, we are introduced to Ransom, a man who is kidnapped to Mars and forced to meet the three strange alien races residing there before realizing that the men who kidnapped him are set on exterminating those lifeforms so humans can take the planet for themselves. As a framed story, an unnamed narrator describes all these experiences before revealing that he knows Ransom personally and is writing the story down for him, and, because of this, it is believed to be a fictional version of Lewis himself. Applying the techniques of obvious allegory that he is known for, Lewis alters science fables to address his concern about using evolutionism in science to create a racial hierarchy and the dangerous consequences of such ideas in the real world.
Lewis was not a stranger to using allegory to represent his opinions and beliefs; in his
first book series, he had already used many religious parallels, such as Earth’s fall, angels, and a sovereign God-figure over all creation. Also central to the plot of Out of the Silent Planet, however, is the theme of race, which is contrasted between the earthling characters Ransom, Devine, and Weston and the three distinct alien races of Mars: the Sorns, Hrossa, and Pfifltrigg. As we continue through the story, the aliens are all mutually at peace with one another despite their vastly different appearances and personalities, while the humans naturally desire one race to be ruler over the others and want to kill the less-evolved races to make room for the expansion of humanity. Lewis uses the story to recreate the actual problem of evolutionism that had persuaded people, including Adolf Hitler and the Nazis, that the white race was the most evolved, excusing racism and inequality as acceptable. Looking beyond the story, we can see Lewis’s attempt to address humanity’s racism and imperialism based on the concerning beliefs of evolutionism at the time.
What Lewis knew about evolution and the racism that followed is not the same as it is today. Evolution primarily teaches that humans are the end of a process of evolving from one creature to the next based on necessity, beginning all the way back with a one-celled organism. This
theory is commonly taught in schools across the country, and it is widely accepted in scientific fields of study. The theory was first popularized in Charles Darwin’s book, On the Origin of Species, in 1859. Of course, if racism is no longer the focus of evolution, then that should be a good thing. Today, it is just one way of explaining where humanity came from and how humans are so different from closely related species. One way to describe this belief system is the term evolutionism, where it becomes a worldview to view other situations through, such as studying animals and even the Earth’s continental crust layers. But, despite the generally good view that evolution now has, it does not erase the principles that it once used in the past. In the early years of creating an understandable chart that described the evolution of all life, the biases of those white men bled into evolutionism for years to come. And to be clear, this wasn’t added on by later writers of evolution; it came from the same man that is credited for its popularity. Going back as early as Darwin’s later book The Descent of Man (1871), “evolution was used to support scientific racism and provide validation for the racial domination and exclusion of other races from society,” which led to extreme amounts of discrimination (Pressman). While it did not initially spark racism, the problem of different races called for an eventual explanation that could not be avoided, and the issue of race in the worldview of evolutionism became very problematic as time progressed. And this was the reason for Lewis’s concern.
This scientific racism founded in evolution brought forth the idea of preserving the evolved races by blotting out the more inferior races through different means in social society, which has become known as evolutionism. As
described in a paper from Trinity College, it was natural, according to those who professed what they called “social Darwinism,” that “species have an innate tendency to strive for selfpreservation, which leads to competition and, ultimately, a winner whose strength indicates they are the best suited for survival” (Pressman). In this scenario, white men placed themselves as the most evolved, while other races were seen as being less evolved. We see this in World War II and the Nazi regime, along with the ventures of imperialism. This “scientific” view of humanity gave people a valid excuse to hate and discriminate against non-white individuals. Based on their physical appearance alone, other aspects were determined about them, like their moral or intellectual capacity. To those who truly believed this ideology, “the ceaseless control of ‘inferior’ races was necessary in order to maintain the dominant group’s survival and success” (Pressman). They avoided mixing the white race as a way of “sterilization” of the less evolved characteristics of other races, hoping to eventually rid them altogether. As extreme as it may sound, this was one drawback of racial hierarchy provided by evolutionism. It led to imperialism, seeing advancement in other races’ territory as a moral step towards preservation of humanity, and the first world war. All these things being fueled by evolutionism inspired Lewis’s Out of the Silent Planet. What worked very well in Lewis’s favor was the choice to write his argument against scientific racism in science fiction form.
Lewis found a setting in the false scientific belief from a few decades before, as did many other writers around that time, that Mars had life forms far more advanced than those on Earth. It all began in 1877, when an astronomer named
Giovanni Schiaparelli spotted trenches on Mars using a refractor telescope. He described them using the word “canali,” meaning marks or grooves. When translating his description, however, it became the English word “canals,” so people began to say that the trenches were full of water, like a dug-out system (Chayka). Lewis uses this to his advantage to create a world that was once a serious theory and implements it directly through the novel. Because Mars’s trenches had to have been built by someone advanced, more so than anything earth had the capabilities of, many things were assumed about the life forms and the planet itself. The common belief was that Mars had to be older than Earth in order to create more advanced civilizations, which Lewis states directly in his book (151). He builds his civilization using these false views of alien life, life forms that are “politically, socially, technologically far advanced” (Hillegas), and yet uses this theme to show how truly unadvanced the human race is. While many people focus on other aspects like technology or physical elements, Lewis challenges the expectations of evolved life forms in order to shame the social biases and racial characteristics that evolutionists used in determining it. By this comparison, he points also to the tell-tale signs of a socially mature society: rationality and peace, both of which humans lacked in Lewis’s time.
In the novel, when Ransom escapes his captors and flees into the forests of Mars, he eventually meets another life form on the shore. This first alien race that the readers are introduced to does not resemble humans physically in the slightest, insinuating at first their lack of evolution. “It was something like a penguin, something like an otter, something like a seal; the slenderness
and flexibility of the body suggested a giant stoat. The great round head, heavily whiskered, was mainly responsible for the suggestion of seal; but it was higher in the forehead than a seal’s and the mouth was smaller” (Lewis 55). The Hrossa, the name of the species that is eventually mentioned in the story, do not look more advanced than humans—not in the slightest. If anything, the description is more animalistic, with Lewis using the comparison of a seal to provide imagery and describing their lives as simplistic in nature, similar to the stone age. But this portrayal also misleads the reader based on the appearances provided, as Ransom later learns that they are the linguistic race of the three existing on Mars. In fact, all three Martian races speak the language that the Hrossa originally speak, only differing in pronunciation (98), proving their advancement is far more than what can be determined from their appearance. In addition to this, they are also writers of poetry and “fishermen,” so to speak. It is an amazing contrast, as Ransom himself learns that “the shapes of their heads no longer mattered” (85), a direct blow against the evolutionists’ belief in “socially desirable characteristics” that were used to determine differences between highly or lowly evolved races (Pressman). Lewis is not denying the advancement in the Hrossa in the slightest but instead focusing on the social and intellectual advancements in place of the physical ones that evolutionists would falsely read.
Another race that is introduced in the later half of the novel, the Pfifltrigg, are the least mentioned species, only getting a small part of the story to fully grasp. Ransom reacts rather harshly to one’s appearances and facial features, stating that its head “was long and pointed like a shrew’s, yellow
and shabby-looking, and so low in the forehead that but for the heavy development of the head at the back and behind the ears (like a bagwig) it could not have been that of an intelligent creature” (Lewis 121). Already, Ransom has determined their intellectual capacity by what they look like in comparison to animals, much like how evolutionism would have viewed non-white races. Once again, we see an animalistic belief about appearance here, forming an immediate opinion of it. Ransom is quickly corrected after observing further and seeing that the Pfifltrigg wear clothing (122), and he also learns that they are actually the artists and craftsmen of the other races (105). Lewis uses terms like “insect-like” and “reptilian” in this section for the same purpose as the Hrossa’s description, to cast doubt on the physical traits that were associated with the “evolved” races and prove that appearances have nothing to do with being more evolved.
The last race is the Sorns, which are much more complicated than the others due to their more human-like features that evoke two different reactions in Ransom. First, he fears them most in the first half of the book because of their grotesque human appearance. Ransom describes his first sighting of one with disgust: “so crazily thin and elongated in the leg, so top-heavily pouted in the chest, such stalky flexible-looking distortions of earthly bipeds [. . .] He had a momentary, scared glimpse of their faces, thin and unnaturally long, with long, drooping noses and drooping mouths of half-spectral, half-idiotic solemnity” (44). Unlike the other races, the Sorns are more closely described to look like distorted human beings, as Ransom later explains: “the face, it was true, took a good deal of getting used to—it was
too long, too solemn and too colourless, and it was much more unpleasantly like a human face than any inhuman creature’s face ought to be” (99). Once again, Ransom views these races through his own understanding of what creatures and people should look like, but this species crosses the line for Ransom far more than the others because of how human they appear. Lewis creates his protagonist to fear the Sorns, the most logical and idea-driven of the three races, far more than the Hrossa, who are essentially massive seal beasts, on account of their similarities blurring the lines between human and alien species. Augray, the Sorn whom Ransom socially interacts with, reveals himself to be very intelligent, focusing on research and information. Once again, the race proves itself as advanced as humans, such as one invention that is essentially an oxygen tank (105), despite their twisted human features that would alone suggest a less intelligent being to the evolutionists of that day. Ransom sees those similarities as disturbing because they overthrow the racial hierarchy that is subconsciously existent in the field of science and society at the time, showing the true effects that those ideas had on the world through a more extreme example of race.
Another strange subconscious reaction to the Sorns’ likeness and characterization is the suspected place in hierarchy that they hold because of it. When Ransom meets the Hrossa, he assumes (with no information) that the Sorns might be “a semi-intelligent kind of cattle” (60). He later learns that the Sorns are very intelligent in science and information, leading to the conclusion that “they must be the real rulers, however it is disguised” (Lewis 72). Much like the evolution-fueled beliefs of the time, it was
naturally expected that “one must dominate the others” (Schwartz 535). From this contrast, Lewis makes the point of humans and their addiction to evolutionism, expecting there to be one race that is superior to the others. As time goes on, Ransom finds that there is no “dominant species” (73) but rather a harmony of three groups, living peacefully and sharing each other’s services. Even so, it is impossible for Ransom to accept this fact until he talks to Augray the Sorn personally. Lewis makes it clear that, because of the Sorns’ similarities to humankind, and before he learns of the intelligence of the other races, Ransom assumes by his evolution-rooted ideas that the Sorns must be rulers over them all. Ransom in no way endorses evolutionary ideas outright, but it’s clear that he has been exposed to them unknowingly, signifying, in an extreme case of symbolism, how deep these ideas of race existed in the world.
The strongest thinking to overcome for Ransom is the very thought of all these different races getting along with one another. Lewis reminds the reader that “three distinct species had reached rationality, and none of them had yet exterminated the other two” (72), showing peculiarity through the eyes of Ransom, a standin for the human race. While these creatures live amongst each other in peace and without another thought, humans are contrasted with them many times throughout the book. We are told that humans kill other races for many different reasons, like pleasure, fear, and hunger, but also “if they thought its death would serve them” (87), highlighting these necessities as unnecessary and selfish at best. Ransom is also embarrassed to talk about the “wars and industrialisms” that humans participate in (73), since now we can clearly see that living without
war and bloodshed is completely possible on Mars. The alien races, however, are free to take food from the Hrossa as needed (75), the Pfifltrigg build the ideas for inventions that the Sorns are incapable of physically making (105), and they do not kill each other over any disagreements. While it is possible for them to not agree on certain aspects, like how the hrossa see the world through a poetic lens while the sorns dabble in understanding things from a logical perspective, they are nonetheless content with each other and help each other, which takes Ransom’s human mind nearly the entire book to understand. The many reminders create a feeling of shame for the human race.
Once again, the reason for Ransom’s thought process is evolutionism taking form inside the limited perspective of humanity. Throughout Out of the Silent Planet, Ransom struggles to see the many good qualities of the alien races, just like whites were socially judgmental of many nonwhite communities and countries. According to Sanford Schwartz in his essay “Race and Reason in Out of the Silent Planet,” Lewis portrays the “false ‘speciation’ through which a fallen creature denies its essential unity with others of its own type” (538). Or rather, humans fail to work with other humans to succeed because of one type prioritizing themselves over another. No example of this could be clearer than Nazi Germany, where Jews were picked out from the population and killed for their Jewish heritage. As noted before, Ransom stands for white humankind, in which he sees everything from his perspective. But in this instance, Lewis is using an extreme (aliens and space travel) to prove something just as important. The differences between an alien and someone from a different country are ridiculous to compare in theory, but he is
essentially saying that the way society sees other human beings is much more shameful than that. “In this sense the harmonious relations of the several kinds of Martians, who are far more different in appearance than we are to one another, bears painful witness to the ceaseless strife and divisiveness within our own kind” (Schwartz 538). The evolutionary thought process only limits an already narrow human perspective of seeing the world, leading to a “narrowing of sympathies and even of thought” (Lewis 110). Through Ransom and possibly with Nazi Germany in mind, Lewis reveals how accepting and blind people are to the whole idea and how dangerous that prejudiced mindset is socially, scientifically, and politically.
Another practice that was common for countries such as Britain and Japan to expand territory was imperialism. Through imperialism, a country attempts to further its power through more physical means, at times depending on military force to invade territory and take it as its own. It might sound strange to switch subjects, but evolutionism and imperialism both take racism hand in hand, with the first ultimately instigating and justifying the second. They are closely related subjects because one fuels the other’s mistreatment of different races. In fact, Schwartz argues it to be the “most savage treatment of those we have deemed less than ourselves” in history (530). Lewis demonstrates imperialism through the character of Weston, one of the two other humans that kidnapped Ransom and took him to Mars. “He wants our race to last for always,” he describes Weston, “and he hopes they will leap from world to world,” very similar to how imperialism operates (Lewis 133). Weston demonstrates the common patriotic character that will honorably sacrifice himself for the
greater good of humanity and do whatever he feels is necessary to the cause, even kill. But, in the process, he becomes less honorable than he believes himself to be as Lewis strips him down to what he really is: a biased man with no morals or social virtues in the slightest.
First, Lewis makes good comedic relief and ironic contrasts to Weston’s ideology of imperialism. Going back even to Darwin’s On the Origin of Species, the ascent of least to most evolved was determined by the “primitive” to the most “civilized” (Schwartz 529), and Lewis was well aware of those expectations when writing this scene. Weston, on being surrounded by Oyarsa, the guardian angel of the planet, and all the local aliens, decides to try taking control of the situation in the only way he knows how: by treating them as primitive creatures. He pulls out a necklace with brightly colored beads and shakes them around, saying, “Pretty, pretty!” over and over again (Lewis 138). His plan was to persuade the obviously less-intelligent species with a handful of crude necklaces. We are told that “he was following the most orthodox rules for frightening and then conciliating primitive races,” and no one can blame him for thinking that it would work (139). After all, from the descriptions before, the races are portrayed as primitive in different ways, like the hrossa living very simple lives resembling the stone age, or the sorns being incapable of creating their own ideas. Also, this is what imperialists would do when in contact with natives as a way of negotiation before they decided to intrude by force. But the point that Lewis is trying to make here is that this mentality doesn’t work. If anything, Weston is the fool, “jerking the necklace up and down” in the same paragraph in a way that only makes Weston look ridiculous. And yet, he is the one
who is “civilized” in the situation. Naturally, his expectations were that the aliens would take the beads and comply; what comes next surprises him more than he had thought it could have.
Very quickly, the aliens see his gestures for what they really are: hilarious at best and moronically shallow at worst. When Weston shakes his jewelry around, he expects to see the “savages” be won over by his gifts. Instead, “Such a roar of sounds as human ears had never heard before - baying of hrossa, piping of pfifltriggi, booming of sorns - burst out and rent the silence of that august place, waking echoes from the distant mountain walls.” At first, he thinks they are roaring at him in anger, but Oyarsa reveals that they aren’t roaring but “only laughing” (138). His ridiculous behavior continues, and he does not get any response other than comedic laughter. The irony is not only that he is too “primitive” to see that they are making fun of him, but he insists that he is the “civilized” one in this situation. “I’m inclined to think they have even less intelligence than we supposed,” he finally concludes after his failed offering (139). This scene reveals the perspective of the other races instead of the human one, provoking the notion that at best this is what natives see, think, and feel when other races advance into their territory trying to stoop down to their level of intelligence, and at worst they are an embarrassment to those around them, as the other man was during Weston’s “dance.” Lewis insinuates that it is the imperialists who become uncivilized when they treat other races as lower than themselves.
The author also goes deeper in the realm of perspective, using Ransom once again to shine a different light on the human species. Unlike the earlier passages, Ransom has now been with the
aliens long enough to see through their physical forms and even enjoy their company. Suddenly, a new creature that he doesn’t recognize comes towards him:
The lower limbs were so thick and sausage-like that he hesitated to call them legs. The bodies were a little narrower at the top than at the bottom so as to be very slightly pear-shaped, and the heads were neither round like those of hrossa nor long like those of sorns, but almost square [. . .] Suddenly, with an indescribable change of feeling, he realized that he was looking at men. (135)
Now in the perspective of the alien species, he describes the humans as irregular and disgusting in appearance. Notice how Ransom also uses the sorns and hrossa to compare with humans, a sign of his change of perspective. Not only is Lewis indicating how natives must feel with strange white men invading their lands, but he is also blurring the line between races, making them equally different. Yes, the other races do have characteristics different from the white population, but the white people also look strange in comparison to other races. One doesn’t come out as the better race here: they are all unique and strange, differing in many ways, also meaning that no one race is superior to the others.
In a similar way, the term “human” refers to all races; Lewis uses the term hnau to refer to all alien species from different planets, humans included, and this term has direct parallels to the many races of humankind and how imperialism treats those people as if they are aliens themselves (71). Weston, the stand-in for
this form of evolutionary racism, makes clear the standards by which he judges humans as superior: “Your tribal life with its stone-age weapons and bee-hive huts, its primitive coracles and elementary social structure, has nothing to compare with our civilization—with our science, medicine and law, our armies, our architecture, our commerce, and our transport system. [. . .] Our right to supersede you is the right of the higher over the lower” (146). Just as Weston believes his race superior, so did the imperialists and evolutionists of Lewis’s day about their own white race. Using differences such as social and scientific structures, whites “proved” themselves as the “higher” race of the scenario and considered only themselves as truly human. Unlike the hnau that includes all species despite cultural or physical differences, some in the human race sought to exclude humans from other countries for those differences. While not the same as judging by appearances on the surface, it does serve the same function: to label an entire race lower than another based on the differences or contrasts between them. This idea of higher versus lower is the “iron law of evolutionary ethics” (Schwartz 542) and becomes prevalent in Weston’s imperialistic view, therefore allowing Lewis to take on both subjects at once.
What makes the final chapters so interesting and enjoyable to read is the back and forth translations that Ransom must perform in order for the aliens to understand Weston’s goal in invading Mars. The reason it grabs attention is because of how Lewis takes Weston’s prestigious speech and simplifies it to its truly disturbing purposes. Weston begins his speech in this way: “[Life] has ruthlessly broken down all the obstacles and liquidated all failures and to-
day in her highest form - civilized man - and in me as his representative,” and show his goal is “to march on, step by step, superseding, where necessary, the lower forms of life that we find” from world to world (Lewis 148). Here, Lewis takes this eloquent speech and dismantles it. According to Ransom’s interpretation, Weston is saying that “the best animal now is the kind of man who makes the big huts and carries the heavy weights and does all the other things” mentioned before and that “it would not be a bent action [. . .] for him to kill you all and bring [humans] here. He says he would feel no pity. [. . .] He wants the creatures born from [humans] to be in as many places as they can” (148-149). What Weston describes as noble and virtuous to mankind is revealed to lead to the murder of every other living thing to make room for humans. Similarly, the imperialists of other countries used these very same standards to justify their conquering of other races’ land. Their culture and huts and technology all differed from them; therefore, it was okay to take their land by force and even kill them for the betterment of the more evolved species. Here, Lewis mocks the idea that seems honorable on the surface, but, when broken down, results in the loss of many innocent lives of other human beings, and he uses aliens to show how extreme those ideas are.
If this wasn’t clear enough for the reader, evolutionism is revealed to be the most illogical thinking about race as the angelic being Oyarsa asks Weston what makes one human. After Ransom has interpreted Weston’s speech above, Oyarsa decides to question him further. “Then is it not the shape of the body that you love?” Weston surprisingly denies this claim despite assuming much about the hnau from the ways their bodies and heads look. Oyarsa then suggests that it is
the mind that makes one valuable and human, like all hnau share. But Weston refutes this. “No care for hnau. Care for man” (Lewis 149). Oyarsa struggles to understand what makes a being human if it is neither the physical nor mental characteristics. As one would expect, Weston only cares about the humans reproducing more humans on other planets. Oyarsa says:
You do not love any one of your race. [. . .] You do not love the mind of your race, nor the body. Any kind of creature will please you if only it is begotten by your kind as they now are. It seems to me, Thick One, that what you really love is no completed creature but the very seed itself: for that is all that is left. (150)
Comparing it to the ideals of evolutionism, Oyarsa describes the white population’s concern with keeping their bloodline pure and the expansion of that bloodline as it wipes out other, “lesser” races through imperialism (Pressman). Despite Weston’s argument sounding genuine in the concern for his people, he really just wants universal domination and also the extermination of other life forms. In the same way, evolutionism may have sounded scientific and accurate at the time, but it ultimately called for the exclusion, discrimination, and even death of other races who were not of the white bloodline. Not only does Oyarsa point out the shallow view of Weston’s people but also the extreme beliefs that evolutionism was built on during that time.
Evolutionism was not the only reason for writing this book, but it was clearly one of the inspirations involved. One of Lewis’s concerns about society stemmed from the racism and hatred from those principles. He admits in his essay “The Seeing Eye” (1963), “I have no pleasure in looking forward
to a meeting between humanity and any alien rational species. I observe how the white man has hitherto treated the black, and how, even among civilized men, the stronger have treated the weaker.” He continues to predict that “if we encounter in the depth of space a race, however innocent and amiable, which is technologically weaker than ourselves, I do not doubt that the same revolting story will be repeated. We shall enslave, deceive, exploit or exterminate; at the very least we shall corrupt it with our vices and infect it with our diseases” (“The Seeing Eye” 173). Even when taking the theme of space out of both his book and this quote, Lewis was concerned about how the corruption of man and the cruel racism that ensued through evolutionism could possibly spread even further. To Lewis, no matter how civilized humans claim to be, or technologically advanced they become, the high profile they give themselves is nothing compared to the actions taken and the biased views they force on others. By using this extreme model of fiction, he creates a world that reveals these accepted ideas for the hateful, destructive, and inaccurate beliefs that they are.
Throughout Lewis’s novel Out of the Silent Planet, he shows a sharp contrast between the humans and the hnau, the alien races living on the planet Mars. Using a vast amount of different techniques, such as basing his story around the advanced expectations of alien life forms, the animalistic descriptions of the races themselves, and Weston’s flawed perception of progress, he tears apart evolutionism and the foundation of racism dawning back to Darwin’s own work. Although the aliens look like animals and configured humanoids, they are more socially advanced than our own species, who are set on taking over other countries and races by force.
It is because of evolution-based ideology that other races have been viewed and treated so poorly when all that is needed is to look beyond what is initially visible and seek the connection of humanity that relies on all of us. For Lewis,
whether it be World War II’s white supremacy regime of the Nazis, or imperialism’s many raids of other cultures for land, he stood against the ideology of evolutionism.
Chayka, Kyle. “A Short History of Martian Canals and Mars Fever.” Popular Mechanics, https://www. popularmechanics.com/space/moon-mars/a17529/a-short-history-of-martian-canals-andmars-fever/. Accessed 28 Oct. 2021.
Hillegas, Mark R. “Out of the Silent Planet as Cosmic Voyage.” Twentieth-Century Literary Criticism, edited by Carol A. Schwartz, vol 393, Farmington Hills, MI, Gale, 2020. Gale Literature Resource Center, link.gale.com/apps/doc/H1420128403/GLS?u=nclivechoc&sid=bookmarkGLS&xid=99ba179a. Accessed 30 Sept. 2021. Originally published in Shadows of Imagination, edited by Mark R. Hillegas, Southern Illinois UP, 1969, pp. 41-58.
Lewis, C. S. Out of the Silent Planet. New York City: Macmillan Publishing, 1943.
Lewis, C. S. “The Seeing Eye.” Christian Reflections. Ed Walter Hooper. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1967. 16776. Orig. “Onward Christian Spacemen.”
Mcgovern, Eugene. “C(live) S(taples) Lewis.” British Novelists, 1930-1959, edited by Bernard Stanley Oldsey, Gale, 1983. Dictionary of Literary Biography Vol. 15. Gale Literature Resource Center, link.gale.com/apps/doc/ H1200003196/GLS?u=nclivechoc&sid=bookmark-GLS&xid=183080f3. Accessed 30 Sept. 2021.
Pressman, Lindsay. “How Evolution was used to Support Scientific Racism.” Trinity College, 2017. Trinity College Digital Repository, digitalrepository.trincoll.edu/cgi/viewcontent. cgi?article=1058&context=trinitypapers. Accessed 29 Oct. 2021. Working paper.
Schwartz, Sanford. “Cosmic Anthropology: Race and Reason in out of the Silent Planet.” Christianity and Literature, vol. 52, no. 4, summer 2003, p. 523+. Gale Literature Resource Center, link. gale.com/apps/doc/A110730325/LitRC?u=nclivechoc&sid=bookmark-LitRC&xid=e1978ab3.
Accessed 30 Sept. 2021.
Crystal Bibbins, Integrative Studies (’22)
Dave Clark, Business and Design (’23): I’m from Houston Texas and a Senior Business and Design Student. I’m also on the Swim Team. Now I am at a loss for words. I am very involved on campus, and I personally love to think outside the box; I’m different, and that’s ok. As I'm writing this, I prefer my graphic design work to do most of the talking. Being a part of 2 great departments, I will always represent my Communication Arts. With having no idea of what I wanted to study coming to Chowan, I’m glad I found my passion for design with our amazing faculty and staff that helped me every step of the way. Also, I enjoy helping others when it’s needed and being there for everyone.
Hamilton Darden II, Graphic Design (’23)
Tre’yon Grace, Graphic Design (’23)
David Joyner, English (’22): When doing my capstone last year, I wanted to choose a topic that covered my Major in English and also my Minor in Religion. To do both, I chose a literary analysis of writer and theologian C. S. Lewis's book Out of the Silent Planet. This is that Capstone. In it, I discuss the symbolism of the book - how Lewis is referring to the real concerns of human value of his day and how it was determined using a naturalistic, Darwinistic view of the world. Not only did it challenge the views of his time, but it can also be applied to our current culture as well in how we interpret human value. Is it subjective to our own standards of race, orientation, and sex, or is it something objective far beyond our own opinions to decide?
Skadi Kylander, Biology (’22): Hello! I’m currently working on a Master of Science in Biology at East Carolina University. I am grateful every day that I have gotten to and continue to be able to learn about so many of the incredible, beautiful, and/ or wacky plants, creatures, and processes that occur on our planet. I like to try to capture little glimpses of our natural world in my photography to share with others who do not have the opportunities to go into nature like I have had—it’s amazing what you can find!
Amber Mann, Mass Communication and History (minor in English) (’25): My dream is to be a firefighter, but, the longer I am at Chowan and the more I learn, the more doors open. Shoot for the stars, because you never know where you will land.
Erica Mock, History, Pre-Law (’24): Erica is not only an exceptional student, but she is also quite the athlete, participating in both the Women’s Swim Team and Acro Tumbling Team. In addition to her involvement in the athletic department, Erica is also the acting President of the History Club, the Vice President of the Honors College, Co-President of the Student Athlete Advisory Council, a Presidential Ambassador, and a Ministry Chaplain on campus.
Sreshta Puducheri, Business Administration (’25)
Claire Revelle, General Studies (Exercise Science) (’23): After graduation, I will be attending chiropractic school, where I will likely focus on sports chiropractic. I’ve always loved reading and writing and am so grateful for the writing help I’ve received at Chowan.
Connor Smith, Biology (’26): I am a freshman from Virginia studying in the field of ecology with a passion for the outdoors and being on the water.
Corey Spruill, Graphic Design (’25)
Marshall Stevens, Biology (’23): Since being in a creative writing class, I have been writing as a form of therapy for feelings I’m not keen on sharing completely. A little disclaimer: the story does contain dark instances and strong language; please read with an open mind.
Destiny Vaughan, Graphic Design (’23)
Savion Woodley, Graphic Design (’24): My name is Savion Woodley and, when I made this art piece, it was an assignment for my graphic design class, and I never thought I was getting published. So how I made it was very simple: I used different fruit to make Wolverine. I just want to thank everyone that gave me the opportunity for this to happen; I’m truly blessed.
See the Brown Lady online: www.chowan.edu/BrownLady
Cover: “Blinding Pigments” by Destiny Vaughan
