In my series of blog posts for AML about Latter-day Saints and speculative fiction, I coined the idea of the “Mormon hat tip.” This idea is based on a complaint that Michael Collings made about Orson Scott Card’s science fiction in a Dialogue article: he claimed that Card included throwaway references to LDS ideas and culture because they were demanded by the audience but that he didn’t develop them into any interesting. I have relabeled these references as hat tip to reframe them in a slightly more positive way. A hat tip is a reference that the Latter-day Saint audience will instantly recognize, but that remains undiscovered to a general audience. It’s a wink or nod from the author to our shared culture.
I’ve obviously been delayed in my plans to post about these references in Brandon Sanderson’s first batch of secret projects. I still intend to come back to those. But I came across a hat tip yesterday in my re-reading of Wind and Truth that struck me so profoundly that I was compelled to come and post about it.
It seems to be almost universally agreed by fans that perhaps the best plot line in the otherwise flawed fifth Stormlight book is Adolin Kholin’s defense of a city against an overwhelming siege. It’s grimy, depressing, and stunningly hopeful in ways that are reminiscent of Kaladin’s original Bridge Four plotline. What makes the plotline work is Adolin’s internal wrestle with his own sense of inadequacy, which relates strongly to his lack of magical powers in a world full of near demigods and his father’s own journey from warlord to noble, nearly divine leader.
Adolin rages against the idolization of his father and of radiant oaths in general, a nice contrast to the importance of oaths in the rest of the magic ecosystem of the books. He tries to draw a distinction between the idea of oaths as unbreakable and inflexible vows and promises as intentions that can flex with changing circumstances.
Whether this distinction works or not is up for debate (Shardcast wasn’t a fan of it), but one of the examples that Adolin uses to draw the distinction will be familiar to anyone who has attended BYU:
“Too many people,” Adolin said as his armorers began to put on his Plate, “think the oath, and not what it means, is the important part. I heard something in one of my lessons once, from an ardent. About a man who took an oath to sit in a chair until told he could stand–and he stayed there for ten years.”
“Wow,” Yawnagawn said. “That’s impressive.”
“It’s idiocy,” Adolin said. “Pardon, Yanagawn–everyone celebrated him, but it’s pure idiocy. You know what I’d admire? A man who gave an oath, then realized it was storming stupid and broke it–apologized–and moved on with his life, determined not the make that kind of mistake again.” (Wind and Truth 500)
To me, this is a clear reference to a famous quote from Karl G. Maeser, the first principal of Brigham Young Academy (which would eventually evolve into BYU):
Karl G. Maeser was known not only for his intelligence and teaching skills but also for his humility and integrity. He said: “Place me behind prison walls—walls of stone ever so thick, reaching ever so far into the ground—there is a possibility that in some way or another I may be able to escape; but stand me on the floor and draw a chalk line around me and have me give my word of honor never to cross it. Can I get out of that circle? No, never! I’d die first!” (quoted in Ernest L. Wilkinson, The President Speaks, Brigham Young University Speeches of the Year [5 October 1960], 15).
There’s a statue of Maeser near the Honors building on BYU campus that is named after him. It’s pretty typical for some BYU students to have drawn a chalk circle around the statue because the quote is so well known. Or at least it used to be, when I did my undergrad in the early 2000s and presumably when Sanderson was here in the 90s as well. Lately, I feel like there’s been a bit of a reversal on Brother Maeser’s commitment to integrity in the same direction as Adolin’s criticism–that fanatical commitment to your word can be dangerous and even contrary to a commitment to doing what’s right. You can find criticisms of this story online in more progressive LDS spaces, like this 2016 post from Blair Hodges on By Common Consent.
I’ll try to continue to post these Mormon hat tips in smaller chunks as I come across them, though I’m pretty busy. I’m not sure what to do with these references yet, but I think they’re interesting to observe. Post a comment below if you noticed other LDS references in Sanderson’s recent works.