Happy Birthday, Jack

Musings on one of my favorite authors on his birthday.

On this day, 125 years ago, there was born a boy named Clive Staples Lewis, and perhaps he almost deserved it. Little did anyone know then that he would go on to be one of the biggest names of the 20th century, both in the world of literature and theology. His easy-going prose, tremendous insights into human psychology and character, huge knowledge of literature, and ability to put profound ideas into simple terms are all key reasons why his works are still read and loved dearly.

My first encounter with C S Lewis was, I suspect like most of you, with The Chronicles of Narnia. My siblings and I listened to these stories on repeat every night before bed, and they shaped my imagination from an early age. I can't tell you what the first time hearing them was like, because I can’t remember a time when I didn’t already know and love them.

I can remember the first time reading most of his other books. As a child, two authors quickly rose to the top of my literary hierarchy, and those two were Lewis and Tolkien. I wanted to read everything of theirs I could get my hands on, and every book about them that I could find. I was interested in languages, they were interested in languages! I was interested in writing stories, especially fantasy, and so were they, even as children. I was interested in theology, and they were interested in it too. As I learned more about them I loved them more. I remember listening to long snippets of the Screwtape Letters when riding with my dad in his car, as he had the audiobook on cassette tape, and finding it both hilarious and profound. How can an author be simultaneously so funny and so serious? It was yet another thing to love about him.

I first picked up Lewis’ Space Trilogy when I was a young teenager. I could not have been more than 14 years old. I wasn’t really interested in science fiction, but I was interested in anything Lewis had written, so I was ready to give them a try. I loved the story and adventure of the first book, the linguistics that play a large role in the story, and the turn at the ending that isn’t a typical sci-fi villain take down, but more of an Emperor’s New Clothes one. I especially loved the reimagining of outer space as brimming with life, music, and light. But it was Perelandra that truly stole my heart on that first read. It was philosophy, it was theology, it was myth, it was a retelling, it was an adventure. So many scenes from that book are imprinted in my mind’s eye from that first read: the frog scene, the long night of hearing the name “Ransom” repeated, and everything that happens on the mountain. The third book, That Hideous Strength, went completely over my head. I couldn’t understand what it was really about, I couldn’t see how it connected with the other two. Since then, however, I have read the series at least four more times, and each time I have understood That Hideous Strength better. It is, in a way, Lewis’ dystopia, and it is probably my favorite dystopia as well. The thing most dystopian novels leave out is the existence of a higher power who can and does intervene in the universe. That is something Lewis never forgets, and it makes this novel unique in the dystopian world. It is also a story about marriage, perhaps the best novel about marriage I have ever read (Anna Karenina is in my mind the only competitor.)

If Lewis wrote one of the best books about marriage I have ever read, I think he also wrote one of the best books about being a woman as well (a difficult feat for someone who isn’t a woman). Till We Have Faces is such a good look into the human soul, and especially the female soul, that I would say every single woman should read it. This book whisked me along with it in such a powerful way, that I was thinking about it for weeks after I first read it, shortly after reading the Space Trilogy.

Every time I read one of his books, I thought about things differently than I had before. At this point my thinking has been so formed by Lewis, that it’s impossible to separate out his influence from who I am as a reader and thinker. Even where I find I cannot agree with him, I find myself seeing his perspective and understanding where he is coming from. His books continue to hold up so well to rereading. This year I am reading the Narnia books to my girls for the first time (we are currently in the middle of The Silver Chair). It has been absolutely delightful to return to these childhood favorites, to see how they are even better now as an adult than they were back then, and to see my children encounter the stories for the first time. There are still scenes in those books that bring me to tears when reading them, despite having known the ending my whole life: the stone table scene in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, for instance. And there are so many allusions to be unfolded as well, and the more other books you have read, the more you can get out of these ones.

While there will always be differing opinions on him and his work, ranging from adoration to disgust, today I’m giving thanks for him and his work. It’s a good day to pick up one of his books and get to know him a little better.