Excerpt

Excerpt from The Princess and Curdie, by George MacDonald

Think, too, of the change in their own substance--no longer molten and
soft, heaving and glowing, but hard and shining and cold. Think of the
creatures scampering over and burrowing in it, and the birds building
their nests upon it, and the trees growing out of its sides, like hair
to clothe it, and the lovely grass in the valleys, and the gracious
flowers even at the very edge of its armour of ice, like the rich
embroidery of the garment below, and the rivers galloping down the
valleys in a tumult of white and green! And along with all these,
think of the terrible precipices down which the traveller may fall and
be lost, and the frightful gulfs of blue air cracked in the glaciers,
and the dark profound lakes, covered like little arctic oceans with
floating lumps of ice.

All this outside the mountain! But the inside, who shall tell what
lies there? Caverns of awfullest solitude, their walls miles thick,
sparkling with ores of gold or silver, copper or iron, tin or mercury,
studded perhaps with precious stones--perhaps a brook, with eyeless
fish in it, running, running ceaselessly, cold and babbling, through
banks crusted with carbuncles and golden topazes, or over a gravel of
which some of the stones arc rubies and emeralds, perhaps diamonds and
sapphires--who can tell?--and whoever can't tell is free to think--all
waiting to flash, waiting for millions of ages--ever since the earth
flew off from the sun, a great blot of fire, and began to cool.

Then there are caverns full of water, numbingly cold, fiercely
hot--hotter than any boiling water. From some of these the water
cannot get out, and from others it runs in channels as the blood in the
body: little veins bring it down from the ice above into the great
caverns of the mountain's heart, whence the arteries let it out again,
gushing in pipes and clefts and ducts of all shapes and kinds, through
and through its bulk, until it springs newborn to the light, and rushes
down the Mountainside in torrents, and down the valleys in
rivers--down, down, rejoicing, to the mighty lungs of the world, that
is the sea, where it is tossed in storms and cyclones, heaved up in
billows, twisted in waterspouts, dashed to mist upon rocks, beaten by
millions of tails, and breathed by millions of gills, whence at last,
melted into vapour by the sun, it is lifted up pure into the air, and
borne by the servant winds back to the mountaintops and the snow, the
solid ice, and the molten stream.

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Explanation

George MacDonald’s The Princess and Curdie (1883) is a fantasy novel and sequel to The Princess and the Goblin, blending fairy-tale elements with deep philosophical and spiritual themes. The excerpt you’ve provided is a lyrical, almost ecstatic meditation on the dual nature of mountains—both their external grandeur and their hidden, mysterious depths. MacDonald, a Scottish minister and writer, often used nature as a metaphor for divine creation, human perception, and the interplay between the visible and the invisible. This passage is a prime example of his ability to merge scientific observation (geology, hydrology) with poetic wonder, inviting the reader to contemplate the mountain as a living, breathing entity—both beautiful and terrifying, nurturing and destructive.

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Textual Analysis: Themes and Ideas

1. The Mountain as a Living Organism The passage personifies the mountain, describing it as if it were a sentient being with a "heart," "veins," "arteries," and even a "garment" (the grass and flowers). This anthropomorphism extends to the water cycle, which is framed as a circulatory system:

   • "Little veins bring [water] down from the ice above into the great caverns of the mountain's heart, whence the arteries let it out again..."
   • The water is "newborn" when it emerges, suggesting rebirth, and it eventually returns to the sea—the "mighty lungs of the world"—before rising again as vapor. This cyclical imagery mirrors both biological processes and spiritual renewal, a common theme in MacDonald’s work (e.g., death and resurrection, purification).

2. Duality: Beauty and Terror The mountain is a paradox: it is both nurturing and dangerous.

   • External Beauty: The passage opens with lush, vibrant imagery—birds nesting, trees growing like "hair," flowers embroidering the landscape, rivers "galloping" in "tumult of white and green." This is a vision of fecundity and harmony.
   • External Terror: Yet this beauty is juxtaposed with "terrible precipices," "frightful gulfs of blue air," and "dark profound lakes"—hazards that threaten the traveler. The mountain is not just a passive landscape but an active, almost predatory force.
   • Internal Mystery: The mountain’s interior is even more ambiguous. It holds "caverns of awfullest solitude" filled with untold riches (gold, gems) but also "numbingly cold" or "fiercely hot" waters. The unknown is both alluring and threatening, inviting human curiosity while resisting full comprehension.

3. Time and Eternity The mountain exists on a geological timescale, far beyond human experience:

   • "Waiting for millions of ages—ever since the earth flew off from the sun, a great blot of fire, and began to cool."
   • The gems and ores are "waiting to flash," suggesting potential energy, dormant but eternal. This evokes a sense of deep time, where human lives are fleeting compared to the mountain’s slow, majestic transformations.
   • The water’s journey—from ice to river to sea to vapor and back—is another cyclical motif, reinforcing the idea of eternity and renewal.

4. The Unknowable and the Imagination The passage emphasizes the limits of human knowledge:

   • "But the inside, who shall tell what lies there?"
   • "Who can tell?—and whoever can't tell is free to think..." MacDonald celebrates the mystery of nature, arguing that the inability to fully know the mountain’s depths is an invitation to wonder, not despair. This aligns with his broader theological view that faith and imagination are pathways to understanding the divine.

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Literary Devices

1. Imagery and Sensory Language

   • Visual: "glowing," "shining," "rich embroidery," "floating lumps of ice"—vivid, almost painterly descriptions.
   • Tactile: "hard and cold," "numbingly cold," "fiercely hot"—contrasts that engage the reader’s sense of touch.
   • Auditory: "babbling" brooks, "torrents... rejoicing"—the mountain is alive with sound.
   • Kinesthetic: Rivers "galloping," water "gushing," "dashed to mist"—movement is constant and dynamic.

2. Metaphor and Simile

   • The mountain is clothed like a body: trees grow "like hair," flowers are "embroidery" on its "garment."
   • The water cycle is a circulatory system (veins, arteries, heart).
   • The sea is the "mighty lungs of the world," breathing in the water only to exhale it as vapor.

3. Personification

   • The mountain "heaves" (like a living chest), the rivers "rejoice," the water is "borne by the servant winds."
   • The gems "wait to flash," as if biding their time for a grand reveal.

4. Juxtaposition

   • Beauty vs. terror ("lovely grass" vs. "terrible precipices").
   • Cold vs. heat ("numbingly cold" vs. "fiercely hot").
   • Surface vs. depth ("outside the mountain" vs. "the inside").

5. Repetition and Rhythm

   • The passage has a cadence reminiscent of biblical or mythic storytelling, with parallel structures:
     • "Think of the creatures... think of the birds... think of the trees..."
     • "Caverns of awfullest solitude, their walls miles thick, sparkling with ores of gold or silver, copper or iron..."
   • The anaphora (repetition of "and" and "think of") creates a hypnotic, accumulative effect, mimicking the vastness of the mountain itself.

6. Scientific and Mythic Fusion MacDonald blends geological realism (ores, glaciers, water cycles) with mythic grandeur (the mountain as a cosmic entity). This reflects his belief that science and spirituality are not opposed but complementary ways of understanding the world.

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Significance in the Novel and Beyond

1. Context in The Princess and Curdie

   • The novel follows Curdie, a miner’s son, as he embarks on a quest to save the kingdom from corrupt forces. The mountain (and its goblins, mines, and hidden depths) is a recurring symbol of both trial and revelation.
   • This passage reflects Curdie’s growing awareness of the world’s complexity—its beauty and danger, its visible and hidden truths. His journey is as much about perception (learning to "see" truly) as it is about physical adventure.

2. Theological and Philosophical Undertones

   • MacDonald, a Christian universalist, often used nature to explore divine mystery. The mountain’s unknowable depths mirror the incomprehensibility of God—both terrifying and glorious.
   • The water cycle can be read as an allegory for the soul’s journey: purification (evaporation), descent into chaos (the sea), and rebirth (return to the mountain).
   • The "awfullest solitude" of the caverns suggests the sublime—a Romantic idea that nature’s vastness evokes both awe and dread, humbling the human observer.

3. Influence on Fantasy Literature

   • MacDonald’s work predates and influenced C.S. Lewis (who called him his "master") and J.R.R. Tolkien. This passage’s mythic grandeur and moral depth foreshadow later fantasy landscapes like Middle-earth’s mountains or Narnia’s magical realms.
   • The idea of a living mountain (with veins, heart, breath) appears in later works, such as Tolkien’s Moria or the Misty Mountains, which are similarly personified as ancient, sentient entities.

4. Ecological Perspective

   • Modern readers might see this passage as an early ecological meditation. The mountain is a self-sustaining system, where every element (water, minerals, life) is interconnected. The "gulfs of blue air cracked in the glaciers" could even evoke contemporary anxieties about climate change and melting ice.

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Key Takeaways from the Text Itself

• The mountain is alive, a character in its own right, with a body, a history, and a will.
• It is both generous and indifferent—nurturing life (flowers, rivers) while harboring deadly perils (precipices, gulfs).
• The unknown is not empty but full—the caverns hold riches, the water carries stories, the ice preserves ancient fire.
• Human perception is limited, but imagination and wonder can bridge the gap between the seen and the unseen.
• The passage celebrates cycles—of water, of time, of life and death—suggesting that all things are part of a grand, eternal pattern.

In essence, this excerpt is a hymn to the mountain, a call to see the world not as static scenery but as a dynamic, sacred mystery—one that demands both reverence and courage from those who dare to explore it.