This post will not be an attempt to do anything like a formal review of the C.S. Lewis work, That Hideous Strength. Many others have done it far greater justice than I ever could.
What I hope to do in this brief article is to engender enough curiosity on the part of those of you who have not read it, to perhaps give it a try. It is a tough book to categorize and has been described as science fiction crossed with spiritual metaphor; and that is surely an odd pairing, although an accurate one so far as it goes.
But that is so broad a stroke as to miss entirely the wonderful nuance, humor and sheer scope of the thing. And that says nothing of the beauty of the language.
The plot revolves around a poky little backwoods college in England, and the parochial politics and panderings that go on therein. Dull stuff at first glance.
Equally stultifying is the initial description of the relationship between newlyweds Jane and Mark, who seemed to have missed the honeymoon period entirely, and have proceeded directly to tedium and irritation.
It would be understandable, if at this point, you were thinking sarcastically, "Now this sounds like a fun read."
Lewis is, however, the unparalleled master of mixing the mundane with the magnificent, all the while injecting genuine humor and even joy into the whole picture. Not easily done.
So although the structure of the book involves the futuristic plot to rid mankind of its pesky reliance on "virtue", while also ridding it of actual physical bodies, leaving these repugnant "mind-only" ghouls, and the heart of the book is about relationships between men and women, the soul of the book, in my opinion, is about the contrast between Lewis's vision of peace, beauty and order; and the conflict, chaos and ugliness that evil produces in the universe.
For example, the nasty pseudo-scientific organization known as N.I.C.E. plans to completely eliminate a beautiful little river that runs through the college town.
"...[they] learned for the first time that the Wynd itself was to be diverted:there was to be no river in Edgestow." (page 119)
This seems to be a direct and contrasting allusion to the fact that in the City of God described in the book of Revelation there is indeed a river that runs through it. The River of Life.
Beauty is a recurring theme in many of Lewis's works. By beauty I mean both the abstract concept of beauty, as well as the more common instances of a rose, a sunrise, or a lovely face. Wonderful trees, and exquisite mountain tops are frequently part of the picture, as well as streams and rivers.
Order is an adjacent theme, as the miscreants running N.I.C.E. proceed to destroy a lovely little college community and turn it into complete and utter chaos. This includes razing homes, uprooting trees that are a hundred years old, creating riots, and messing with the trains. And as anyone who has ever read any English literature knows, the British take great pride in "keeping the trains running on time". Thus, when they are disrupted, it becomes another metaphor for the general chaos created by human sinfulness.
The protagonist, Dr. Ransom, is clearly a saviour figure. And the first time Jane meets him, Lewis uses the phrase "her world was unmade" no fewer than three times. This is reminiscent of the Psalmist poetry, or the New Testament structure wherein any thing repeated three times is meant to have great significance. (pages 139-141)
I will admit that I was a bit surprised at some of Lewis's mild profanity, as I had not recalled that from reading it many years ago: tepid by today's deplorable standards, to be sure; but what must have been pretty edgy for Christian literature in the 1950s. To me it simply demonstrated his commitment to realism in the day-to-day society which he was describing.
As to the humor, it comes in broad form and in more subtle tones. In one instance, as two characters continue to disagree, they are told, "If you two quarrel much more," said the Director, "I think I'll make you marry one another." (Page 197)
In a character who is an unwitting pawn, Lewis says, "The fantastic suggestion that he, Curry, might be a bore, passed through is mind so swiftly that a second later he had forgotten it forever." (Page 90)
This light touch allows Lewis to comment upon the lack of self-awareness that creates such arrogance, without become preachy. Instead he brings the reader a smile.
However, he does not hesitate to use goofy imagery to poke fun at a serious character. The skeptic of the group, on a evening when romance is in the air, and a veritable Noah's ark of creatures seem to be pairing up states, "I'd feel easier in my mind if I were inside and the door locked before any crocodiles or kangaroos start courting in the middle of all my files." (Page 377)
I don't often read a book that contains words with which I am unfamiliar, except when I read C.S. Lewis. In this case, two such words were "veridical" and "frousty". Both are fairly easily understood within their context, but still I had to look them up to be sure. I truly want to keep my head in the game, when reading Lewis!
As to the sheer beauty of the language, the instances are too numerous to list. A few are:
"descending the ladder of humility"
"prim little grasp upon her own destiny"
"plays upon thoughts, paradoxes, fancies, anecdotes, theories laughingly advanced"
For me, reading Lewis is more like listening to good music, or watching birds at the bird bath, or looking upon a Renoir in its proper setting. It is simply art, art that is earthy, heavenly, humorous, and serious.
Consider giving yourself the treat of reading That Hideous Strength.
Note: Please see The Quiet Quill for D.J. Hughes thoughts on this and other reviews which are part of the C.S. Lewis Book Club which she hosts.
(Note: This month's selection is A Grief Observed.)
As you may have heard me say (or seen me write) before, C.S. Lewis is my favorite author. His insights, phrasing, vocabulary, and simple sincerity speak to me in a way that no other writer quite does.
It is, therefore, with real enjoyment that I revisit a number of his works for this book club, despite the fact that this month's selection is a tough one for obvious reasons. Grief is a difficult subject under the best of circumstances, and these are not the best of circumstances in our family just now.
Lewis so accurately points out that "Grief still feels like fear. ... Or like waiting; just hanging about waiting for something to happen."
I have spent a good bit of time over the years hanging about in hospital corridors; and I am familiar with the sounds, the smells, the scenes one encounters in those hallways. And yes, always and inevitably, there is a sense of hanging about waiting for something to happen.
Last spring, on Easter Sunday morning I received the phone call I had been expecting for some months. My mother had had another stroke and was in the hospital. For two weeks the doctors tried everything they knew to assist her. I observed while Mom did all she could to cooperate with them, until she concluded there was nothing more to be done that would be effective.
Then she quietly asked us one morning, "Stop trying to fix me." It was her way of saying, "Enough. Stop the treatments because they are not helping and they are only prolonging the inevitable."
I was there each day, several hours at a time, watching her sleep, feeding her when she could eat a little, and talking with her when she rallied enough to be able to speak.
But I was not there at all times, 24 hours a day. There is a grief that is unobserved - that each of us must process alone - as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I did not observe as my mother decided to ask us to "stop trying to fix" her. Only God was there as she arrived at that place of peaceful resolution.
Lewis asks in this book if we know, in fact, whether God is good. He says we don't have much to "set against" the fear that if God can put us through such terrible sufferings, that he may not be a good God after all.
Ah, but then his honesty prevails and he says, almost as if embarrassed, as though he had temporarily overlooked this crucial fact, "We set Christ against it."
Yes, we do. Yes, we must. Yes, we can set Christ against our yawning fears, and feeble hopes and confused prayers. He has triumphed over death and the grave!
And the greatest grief in the universe was unobserved by humankind as the Father wept over the Son he had sacrificed so that we might have victory over death.
God is good. And while our own griefs in this life may sometimes buckle our knees, and break our hearts, he truly knows what we suffer as he observes our grief and moves to heal us and make us whole - whether in this life or the next.
(D.J. Hughes at The Quiet Quill is hosting an online C.S. Lewis Book Club. Please stop by and check out the blogs on this topic. Feel free to join in.)
"What were you doing when you experienced that joy that you now miss?", the counselor asked me quietly.
"Oh, nothing spectacular. Usually I would just be taking a walk or something, and it would just sort of well up inside me. I would have this overwhelming sense of gratitude, and a conviction that I was at peace with God. It was the most freeing thing, it felt almost like the expression "walking on air."
"And how long has it been since you have felt that way?" he inquired.
With my head bowed and my shoulders hunched against the knowledge of the failure and despair I now felt in my life, I responded, "Several years now."
& & &
This exchange took place many years ago, during a time in my life when I had lost nearly everything I had ever cherished, and I did not see when, or if, I would ever be whole again, much less experience joy.
It was to be several years later before I read Surprised By Joy. I had read The Chronicles of Narnia, then The Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity, and several others by Lewis. When I did finally read Joy, it was like coming home, to a place you only vaguely remembered, but knew that you had been searching for all along.
Lewis describes this "joy"as "an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction." (17-18)
I could not help but smile when I read this, as it immediately reminded me of something my pastor used to say when I was a teenager. He was an older minister serving in his final pastorate before he retired from full-time ministry. He had a wonderful big smile, and sometimes he would get this truly joyous expression on his big, homely face and say, with great expression, "I'm satisfied with an unsatisfied satisfaction."
When I finally read Surprised By Joy, I understood what my old pastor had meant. He was referring to the present soul-satisfaction of knowing God, but nevertheless being dissatisfied in the realization that we do not know him nearly well enough, all the while longing to know him better. However, when we truly experience His Presence, we are, indeed, "surprised by joy."
Lewis's work influenced my life and my outlook in more ways than this brief homily can describe. I had always been a "bookish" girl, much more comfortable alone in our little town library than in social gatherings. My socially boisterous father did not approve.
Thus, when Lewis wrote, "What had been 'my' taste was apparently 'our' taste (if only I could ever meet the 'we' to whom that 'our' belonged.)" (103) I thought, "Exactly!"
Then, of course, there is always the razor sharp wit and powers of observation that Lewis displays, that add to the readability of works which, while deeply intellectual, can be truly hilarious. For example, when he describes his father's continual mangling of names and facts, it is with this brief anecdote:
"Tell him that a boy called Churchwood had caught a field mouse and kept it as a pet, and a year, or ten years later, he would ask you, 'Did you ever hear what became of poor Chickweed who was so afraid of the rats?' " (121)
Many of us have been driven to distraction by someone in our lives who displayed this kind of odd mental quirk. And just reading it and having that "yes!" moment of recognition is comforting. We are not crazy, or just imagining it, after all.
& & &
Finally, having come from a religious tradition where it was expected that one would "always have the victory" and constantly be in a state of happy contentment in Christ, what a blessed relief it was to read his unvarnished account of his own gradual conversion, a process not an event, when he entered the kingdom, "perhaps the most dejected and reluctant convert in all of England." (228-229)
Only in heaven, will we have any idea of how many hesitant, intellectually honest, but spiritually blind men and women have come to Christ partly because of this line alone. & & &
Please visit the C.S. Lewis Book Club, hosted by D.J. Hughes at her blog, http://thequietquill.blogspot.com/ God Bless You.
