They Must Remain

In Victor Hugo’s novel Notre-Dame de Paris, he wrote an interesting chapter (mostly an aside from the main storyline), in which he spoke about architecture and the printing press. Hugo wrote, “From the origin of things down to the fifteenth century of the Christian era, inclusive, architecture is the great book of humanity, the principal expression of man in his different stages of development, either as a force or as an intelligence…. During the first six thousand years of the world, from the most immemorial pagoda of Hindustan, to the cathedral of Cologne, architecture was the great handwriting of the human race. And this is so true, that not only every religious symbol, but every human thought, has its page and its monument in that immense book…. Architecture was, down to the fifteenth century, the chief register of humanity; that in that interval not a thought which is in any degree complicated made its appearance in the world, which has not been worked into an edifice; that every popular idea, and every religious law, has had its monumental records; that the human race has, in short, had no important thought which it has not written in stone. And why? Because every thought, either philosophical or religious, is interested in perpetuating itself; because the idea which has moved one generation wishes to move others also, and leave a trace. Now, what a precarious immortality is that of the manuscript! How much more solid, durable, unyielding, is a book of stone!” In other words, the best and most long-lasting way to perpetuate ideas was through architecture. Hand-written manuscripts perish much more quickly than monuments of stone. I saw this first-hand when I visited the temples of Luxor and Karnak in Egypt, both of which are 3000-4000 years old. They are full of hieroglyphs with writing that has been preserved for millennia through architecture.    

But, Hugo argued, the advent of the printing press changed what was the most powerful and long-lasting form of human expression. “In the fifteenth century everything changes. Human thought discovers a mode of perpetuating itself, not only more durable and more resisting than architecture, but still more simple and easy. Architecture is dethroned. Gutenberg’s letters of lead are about to supersede Orpheus’s letters of stone. The book is about to kill the edifice. The invention of printing is the greatest event in history. It is the mother of revolution. It is the mode of expression of humanity which is totally renewed…. In its printed form, thought is more imperishable than ever; it is volatile, irresistible, indestructible. It is mingled with the air. In the days of architecture it made a mountain of itself, and took powerful possession of a century and a place. Now it converts itself into a flock of birds, scatters itself to the four winds, and occupies all points of air and space at once.” With the advent of the printing press, written words could outlive even stone structures because they could be mass produced, spread out, and easily reprinted to pass down from generation to generation. The printing press made it possible to perpetuate ideas in a way more lasting and widespread than architecture.    

When I read this in Notre-Dame de Paris, I thought of what President Nelson said in the April 2020 general conference at the bicentennial of the First Vision. He related, “This April 2020 general conference is our time to commemorate an event that changed the world. As we anticipated this 200th anniversary of Joseph Smith’s First Vision, the First Presidency and Council of the Twelve Apostles wondered what we might do to commemorate appropriately this singular event. That theophany initiated the Restoration of the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ and ushered in the dispensation of the fulness of times. We wondered if a monument should be erected. But as we considered the unique historic and international impact of that First Vision, we felt impressed to create a monument not of granite or stone but of words—words of solemn and sacred proclamation—written, not to be carved in ‘tables of stone’ but rather to be etched in the ‘fleshy tables’ of our hearts.” He seemed to have agreed with Hugo’s assessment: the written word would be more powerful and longer lasting than a monument of stone to tell the world about the restoration of the gospel. Indeed, the Church is far more based in words than in structures. If the Church lost all of its buildings, it could easily rebuild them and start anew (just as it did after Missouri); but it could not survive if it lost all of its words of revelation. Gratefully, those have been printed and distributed so widely that, we hope, they could never be lost.

These ideas made me also think about the words of Jacob as he described the Nephite effort to preserve their faith for future generations. He said, “And [Nephi] gave me, Jacob, a commandment that I should write upon these plates a few of the things which I considered to be most precious;… And if there were preaching which was sacred, or revelation which was great, or prophesying, that I should engraven the heads of them upon these plates, and touch upon them as much as it were possible, for Christ’s sake, and for the sake of our people” (Jacob 1:2,4). So, he should engrave the most important words upon plates so that, like the books of the printing press to come later, they could be preserved for many generations. Jacob further explained, “I cannot write but a little of my words, because of the difficulty of engraving our words upon plates) and we know that the things which we write upon plates must remain; But whatsoever things we write upon anything save it be upon plates must perish and vanish away” (Jacob 4:1-2). He understood what would be the most long-lasting and sought to write the most important things upon the plates. There were surely many magnificent Nephite buildings, including Nephi’s temple, which lasted many years in their civilization, but none of them outlived the words that Jacob and others wrote upon plates. And this idea is a reminder to all of us that what we leave behind that will be most lasting will not be our homes or our material possessions; rather, it likely will be the words—hopefully those of testimony and faith in Jesus Christ—that we record for future generations.