Last week covered the foundations of symbolism (symmetry, sameness, and difference), as well as the levels of intentional present in narrative uses of symbolism. This week I promised to discuss….

Analogy

Analogy is symbolic, though it is not symbolism proper. In symbolism element A stands as a representative of B, usually by virtue of some integral symmetry, occasionally by means of a pure convention (letters standing for concepts, for instance). In analogy, A is a particular instance of a category (C). As a member of that category, it is generally symbolic of all the members of that category, to whatever extent the circumstances line up.

So, for instance, the One Ring in The Lord of the Rings is not symbolic of power or the means of power. No, the One Ring is itself a means of power, a weapon and a method of domination. As such, while it in no way symbolizes a real-world means of power- democracy, autocracy, nuclear weapons, biological warfare, toothpaste- it possesses an analogy to them. By understanding the One Ring, we learn to understand other means of power better.

In another example, Penny Scrubbins of my own published novel is not symbolic of a ‘man with a moral intuition he can’t justify.’ He can’t be, because he quite literally is a man with a moral intuition he can’t justify. However, because of his membership in that category, he can be taken as reflective of elements of that category’s experience and reality, allowing better understanding of such individuals (all non-Christians who listen to their consciences on occasion). He does not fully match the existence of any other particular in that category, but he matches their existences in certain ways, loose or precise, which make his example useful.

Implementations

Returning to symbolism of the more vertical variety,^[1] we find three types of implementation in writing. By implementation I mean, ‘How did the writer approach this bit of symbolism? How important was it to the choice of the narrative’s direction?’

The first type of symbolism is the incidental. This symbolism had no effect on the story or as good as. Whether the author didn’t intend the symbolism or recognized it only after the story was effectively written or just didn’t care enough about it to pay attention while writing, this symbolism just played no role in the intention of the story.

Attributive symbolism is second. Think ‘attribute’ in the philosophical sense here. Attributive symbolism is symbolism the author put some effort into including, but which ultimately did not decide elements of the story beyond details, a few words choices, and the like. In a story currently awaiting re-drafting, I have a bit of symbolism which falls into this category; while I consciously include it in the story, I did not divert the story to include it. Instead, the symbolism was included as a tool for communicating the other ideas of the story, lending continuity to a few bits of dialogue and the occasional choice of scenery.

Contributive symbolism is the third. Here the symbolism actually forms enough of the backbone of the narrative that cohering with it decides significant plot choices. So I might choose mountains rather than plains for the next stage of the story in large part because mountains have an established or desired symbolic meaning within the story. This type of symbolism has some overlap (and a very fuzzy border) with attributive symbolism. When the symbolism becomes the central deciding criteria, it transitions to ‘determinative’ symbolism. Here is where full allegory (such as Pilgrim’s Progress) sits; all of the story is subordinate to the symbolic elements, whether directly (names, plot, etc.) or as supports for the directly subordinate elements (Christian’s clothing, etc.).

None of these types of symbolism is strictly superior (except that incidental symbolism is a net neutral, so long as it does not interfere or distort a reasonable reader’s interpretation, as then it becomes a negative, a failure of artistry by the writer (assuming he had the capability to notice it^[2])). All of them have their place. The point of this system is not to rank but to analyze. Be aware of how symbolism is used. Even if the specific categories I posit are not useful to you, as they may not be, take note of how you and other authors use symbolism, poorly or skillfully, prominently or secondarily.

Two Points on Interpretation

#1 – Symbolism has limits

Symbolism can be tempting to interpret and interpret and keep interpreting. Aslan is symbolic of Christ (well, more of an analogy, but that’s neither there nor here), so what is Peter symbolic for? Santa Claus? Tashban? One symbol, though, cannot be the pretext for a thousand. Even allegories like Pilgrim’s Progress have limits to their symbolism. Christian’s shoes bear, to my memory, no special significance, nor does the grass on the roadside, except by the analogy of the character’s resting on it.

This point is particularly important in interpreting Scripture. Scripture does use symbolism. Baptism, Passover, Communion, sacrifice, the entire tabernacle and temple set-up, the garments of the priests, the language of the prophets, so much symbolism. It veritably drips across the page in places.

On the other hand, though, some parts of Scripture just aren’t overburdened with symbolism. Much of the meaning of the narratives in the Old Testament comes through analogy, even incomplete analogies. So Elijah raising the son of the widow at Zarephath (1 Kings 17:17-24) from the dead is analogical to our estate as dead sinners now and our future estate as corpses. The line between symbolism and analogy can get a little blurred, sometimes. In the Red Sea, we have what can justly be taken as a symbol of salvation (Heb. 11:29), but it is also an analogy of salvation, being a salvation in itself (Is. 63:12-13). Which one you term it depends on what parts of the salvation you focus on, the saving or the type of saving.

Or we can take symbolism legitimate in one place- the symbolism of the armor of the spirit in Ephesians 6:10-18 and God’s ‘garment’s’ in Isaiah 59;17- and impute it without justification to another place. The armor which Saul and Jonathan wear in 1 Samuel 14 is not meant to represent the armor of God specifically. Poetic use of the symbol may be justified, but the specific symbolism of Ephesians cannot properly be made the lens of understanding 1 Samuel.

Our use of symbolism must be discerning and careful lest we come to the point of some Patristics, like Origen, who manufactured symbols as much as they discovered them. This lesson holds in literature too, with much less importance to our lives.

#2 – Symbolism must be provably intended to be probative

Symbolism not intended by the author is interesting, but it must be handled with care. We can divide this into four types. First, there’s symbolism the author didn’t intend and would never intend. This sort of symbolism is interesting to consider from a death of the author perspective, as part of analyzing the story, and as part of the story-actually-communicated, but it is of no use in understanding the story the author seeks to communicate.

Second, we have the symbolism the author didn’t consciously intend but welcomes- the sort that is just a natural extension of his worldview. This extends to the interplay between the symbolism and worldview actually intended, the perspective on the world the author didn’t consciously include but which simply leaked into the narrative in the process of writing. Like drawing unstated or unrealized conclusions from an argument, interpreting this has justification, but given the more subjective nature of symbolism, the extrapolation must be cautious.

Third, in a step to the side, we have the symbolic side of analogy. All stories are composed of elements borrowed from the real world, re-contextualized and re-formed into a hopefully coherent shape. Nonfiction is similar, except that instead of borrowing from the real world, it expresses the real world, with its various categories (hopefully). This process naturally produces a plethora of analogical opportunity, as defined earlier. Each character can have a parallel in the real world; each plot point can echo into our lives, in some way or another, even just in anticipation or negation.

This third sort of symbolism does convey the author’s meaning insofar as our interpretation is correct. Of course, the author isn’t usually talking about the specific situation we’re analogizing to, but inasmuch as the author is talking about category A, all things within category A are fair game.

Fourth, we have intended symbolism (and intended analogy- when the analogy is specifically intended by the author rather than incidental-integral). All Biblical symbolism falls either into this category or into the first (though category one symbolism, unintended and unwanted, is produced only by misinterpretation of Scripture, not by an imperfection in its writing). In order for Biblical symbolism to be probative, we must establish that it is intended; to the extent that it is intended, it can be proof. So marriage symbolizing the church-Christ relationship is rock-solid proof, but Christ’s calming of the waters as symbolism for His rule over chaos in general, that’s a little shakier. As for analogy, while the human authors did not intend the analogy to apply specifically to each situation it does apply, all proper analogies present are intentional, and all proper applications of those analogies are intended by God.

Conclusion

Symbolism and analogy is a powerful tool in the artist’s arsenal. For the reader, too, understanding symbolism provides a path to riches of beauty otherwise locked away. Understanding another field of an author’s art is, for me, a truly remarkable experience, a richness to carry forward. Analogy, meanwhile, forms the backbone of how we relate to narrative and how narrative relates to our lives. Yet with such powerful tools caution and care are warranted.

So: go out, and check your footing before you leap.

Footnotes

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[1] Analogy is relatively horizontal- between two members of the same class in reference to that shared membership, rather than the symbol sharing an element with the symbolized which allows for a basically different idea to be communicated.

[2] So no blame or fault attaches to the author whose work’s symbolism goes out of orbit because of a transition to a new culture he had no conception of.