New York C.S.
Lewis Society
Since I couldn't afford to go to London this weekend for the installation of Lewis's stone in Poet's Corner of
Westminster Abbey, I went to New York City to
join in the commemoration of the 50th anniversary of Lewis's death
with other poor or local scholars and fans. Here are little summaries of or
commentaries on the talks.
Monsignor Hull gave the first introductions of the day, as this event was held in and
partly sponsored by the Sheen Center for Faith and
Culture. This reminds me to mention to you that there is
something of a movement going on right now to wrest Lewis from the American
Evangelicals and argue that if he were alive right now, he would be a Roman
Catholic. This might be something to explore in a later post.
Then James Como
gave further intros. I must say it was an enormous pleasure to meet, greet,
listen to, and talk with all these lovely people and intelligent Lewis
scholars.
During the talks, I sat with the intrepid William O'Flaherty
of Essential C.S. Lewis. He is a walking
Lewis encyclopedia: whenever a speaker referenced a title, text, image, etc. William
pulled it up on his computer quick as thought. That was very cool.
The first speaker
was William Griffin, who wrote the third biography of Lewis and
worked as an editor at Macmillan for many years, helping to bring Lewis’s works
to the United States. He told several delightful stories about his time at
Macmillan.
In 1977, he did some research
and found that 5 million copies of CSL's books had been printed. Macmillan had
fallen short on their sales list and needed a new CSL book overnight. Griffin came
up with the idea of a thematic anthology entitled The Joyful Christian, organized
according to the points of the Nicene Creed. He chose the quotes, organized the
book, and was about to go to press with it when—oops! His senior editor asked
him if he had consulted Walter Hooper about copyright permissions! No, he
hadn’t; who was Hooper? Once enlightened, he sent off a “grovel” asking for
Hooper’s blessing on the new book. Hooper wrote back that the book was “worthy
of a D Phil.” Griffin said, “that made me his slave for life.”
The book was a huge hit; 35,000
copies were ordered in the first two days of its availability. It was the start
of the “blankety-blank Christian” series: The
Joyful Christian, The Visionary Christian, The Electric Christian, etc.—all anthologies from various writers.
Dorothy Sayers and Fulton Sheen were included. Griffin turned down a date with
a movie star to meet Sheen to work on that book.
There
were other stories, other statistics. It would have been a more lively talk had
Griffin just told his stories, rather than reading them out in a monotone.
Perhaps the whole paper will be published somewhere so that others can enjoy
the content of the talk.
Next, Elaine
Tixier read a paper about Till We Have Faces, which she
argues is CSL's best work of fiction. I agree. She focused on themes of doubt
and the stages that lead to faith. Although Lewis wrote that this novel is
about what it would feel like for someone to lose a family member to
Christianity—in other words, about how conversion feels from the outside,
rather than the inside—Tixier talked about the novel as an extended query: Why
do some people see what is hidden to others? Why do some have the gift of
faith, while others do not? Its theme is the mystery of the transmission of
faith. She compared it to The Silver Chair, which is also about the
question Eustace asks Jill: “Are you good at believing things?” He chose to ask
this question in several fictional works, because fairy tale and myth both have
distance from our world, which provides distance and makes the reader more
receptive to poetic language—and poetic language is at the heart of TWHF.
Psyche
illustrates both the simplicity and complexity of faith, while Orual believes
in the gods, but is suspicious of their goodness. Her faith is transmitted
(rather than direct or experiential—I'm not sure this was part of the
argument). Orual is afraid, rather than rationally skeptical. She suffers from
“infinite misgivings,” but also has moments of tenderness or self-oblivion. The
palace scene minutely illustrates the “anatomy of doubt.”
Tixier also
compared Orual's sorrow to the narrator's (Lewis's?) in A Grief Observed. He wrote: “It is not my reason that is taking
away my faith; it is emotion.” Then she compared it to the short story “Light,”
which is a distillation of the same points about doubt and faith. Both have
misty uncertainty, a yearning for assurance, and emblems of sehnsucht
[visible light, the mountain, etc]. Both books have a mystical core. Lewis's
method of writing was often retrospective: remembering and reviewing past spiritual
steps.
TWHF uses
the genre of the “Complaint” and also draws from the book of Job. A complaint
is not blasphemy, but a way to faith. Charles Williams, Tixier pointed out,
admired Job. He wrote: “Job's impatience had been approved, his apparent
blasphemies accepted.” Orual is of Job's lineage. After her complaint is
uttered, she enters into silence. She is a Job-like figure for our time. God's
answer is not an answer, but a story. It also leads Orual into an Act of Exchange—Orual
carries Psyche's burden. The mystical moment is a revelation of plenitude and
simplicity. This is the climax of the narrative trajectory.
Tixier’s paper
was nice, but was not a scholarly analysis. It was an observation of a theme. This
frustrates me, because Lewis studies have been plagued by summary and thematic
papers for years, which I believe is one reason Lewis is not more respected by
mainstream academia. I passionately believe that we need to STOP presenting
these elementary observations and begin applying rigorous scholarship if any
good work is to be done on Lewis.
Then Maggie Goodman, a member of the Society, read Lewis’s poem
“The Late Passenger.”
Finally, Michael
Travers spoke on “Invitation to Glory: CSL's apologetic of hope.” He
recounted that Alister McGrath lists three reasons for the popularity of CSL's
apologetics: 1. logical positivism has declined; 2. his writings have religious
appeal; and 3. he appeals to the imagination. Travers wants to add another: his
apologetic writings include an invitation to hope for Glory. Ecclesiastes says
that God has put eternity into men's hearts. The Bible presents this hope in
narrative form: a grand narrative of the created order. CSL gives voice to this
Christian narrative of hope, inviting his readers home. Attempts to turn earth
into heaven dull our longing for the real thing.
His
narrative of creation is found in The Magician's Nephew. It echoes the
Biblical narrative.
We live in a condition of exile and hope: looking backwards
to Eden and forward to Heaven. That Hideous Strength as a narrative of
separation and “objectification.” The Silver Chair as classic quest
narrative. But even when the quest is accomplished, the longing remains: it is
a there-and-back-again narrative, but only back to a good earthly realm, not
(yet) to Heaven. Longing is most naturally expressed in literature through the
quest narrative (i.e., The Voyage of the Dawn Treader). {note:
this is nearly the only Inklings work in which the longing is located in the EAST;
everywhere else, good is to the WEST}. :) In The Great Divorce, this
longing is shown in the strength, brightness, and hardness of all things in
Heaven, to emphasize how much more real it is than earth.
All of
these themes are brought together in The Last Battle. {side note:
Obviously the Stable and the Wardrobe are Time Lord technology.} Travers
compared the end of The Last Battle with the book of Revelation, chapter
21, and concluded that all of Lewis’s works encourage his readers to long for
heaven and for God.
Again, this
was a nice talk, but was not a scholarly analysis. It really wanted to be a
sermon. Travers would have done better to go all the way and preach us an
inspiring sermon, rather than reading a somewhat dull paper without applying
scholarly rigor. We need to rescue Lewis from the burden of summary and
thematic appreciation under which his works have struggled for these fifty
years. On this anniversary, let us take a new approach. Let all conference
organizers, journal editors, and event planners in Lewisiana covenant together:
There shall be no more summary! We will only speak publicly about Lewis’s works
if we speak intelligently. We will use profound analysis. We will raise his
works to the level at which they belong: With the works of T.S. Eliot, or Tolkien,
who are appreciated by mainstream scholarship. We will not let him fall into
obscurity or into the grave of popularism. His popularity will take care of
itself: His academic reputation will not. Therefore, we eschew summaries and
fluffy appreciation from here onwards into the future. To another 50 years!
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