From "one of the greatest storytellers we have" (Robert Bly), an invitation to allow the oldest stories--and the Greatest Story--to reshape our own.
There's an old Celtic belief that if you aren’t wrapped in the cloak of story you are liable to experience huge rushes of angst as you age. You are, in some grievous way, unprepared for what the world will hurl at you. You remain adolescent, stuck, unable to act or to rest.
In How to Get Home, acclaimed mythographer, storyteller, and Christian thinker Martin Shaw proposes that we look to the “ancient technologies” the myths and initiatory rites for help achieving maturity and wholeness. Drawing on his experience as a guide for wilderness rites of passage, Shaw teaches you to read a myth the way it wants to be read; provides vivid retellings of tales powerful enough to carry you through life’s travails; and shows you how to gather and reshape your own thrown-away stories. Most vividly, he shares how these ancient technologies led him—unexpectedly—to Christ, “the True Myth,” by way of a thirty-year journey and a 101-night vigil in a Dartmoor forest.
Combining scholarly erudition with earthy storytelling in the tradition of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, How to Get Home is an invitation to let the great myths make us more fully human.
I wasn't sure what to expect going into this book. I didn't know if I should prepare myself for a fairytale breakdown like we get in a lot of Shaw's other work like Smoke Hole or A Branch from the Lightning Tree, or if we were going to get another transcendental mind-melter like Bardskull. What this book turned out to be was a honing and distillation of all of Shaw's previous work and thinking (plus some new stuff). What we get here is every blessed thought and insight he has gleaned over the hard decades, now baptized into his new life as a Christian.
For those worried that he would chuck all of the old storytelling and give himself to some sort of tame, dishwater Christian Living book, don't be. This is Martin Shaw at is brightest and sharpest.
Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher and the author for the ARC.
Unfortunately, this book is not at all what I expected from the description. There are some strong sections and I enjoyed On Death and On Passivity. However, it became increasingly meandering/hard to stay with as it progressed, and increasingly focussed on Christianity and Christian interpretation. A religious lens on storytelling and mythology is obviously fine but not something that I would have picked up if it were made clear from the outset. I struggled to finish this book but hope it finds its audience as the writing is good and there is wisdom in there waiting to be pulled out by the right reader.
A body of work to nourish and replenish with every draw from its depths, for traversing one’s tales of being made through unmaking. An invitation into the contemplative, transformative, wily wilds: into practice, ritual, and prayer as doorways toward maturation, becoming, and the Sacred Story. Ultimately, a beckoning to brighten one’s consciousness—to partake in the relational nature of one’s stories, told and, perhaps more importantly, untold, as progenitors of myth and peppered with it. And through it all—the suffering, the jubilation, the isolation and connection—somewhere between the mud and the heavens, stay cackling, stay salty and deep.
Brilliantly written. A weave of ancient tales and profound wisdom for the every day. Highly recommend the audible version. The stories really stick with you creating deeper meaning to life.
“To live entirely without prayer would leave us less a human being. Prayer changes our relationship with pretty much everything. In the end prayer isn’t something we do it becomes something we are.”