Kort, Wesley A. - C. S. Lewis Then and Now (2001)

C. S.
Lewis Then and Now
WESLEY A. KORT
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

c. s. lew i s th e n and now
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C. S. LEWIS
THEN AND NOW

we sley a. kort
1
2001
3
Oxford New York
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Copyright 2001 by Wesley A. Kort

Published by Oxford University Press, Inc.
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stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,
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without the prior permission of Oxford University Press.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kort, Wesley A.
C. S. Lewis then and now / Wesley A. Kort
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-19-514342-6
1. Lewis, C. S. (Clive Staples), 18981963. I. Title.
BX5199.L53 K67 2001
283'.092dc21 2001021324
9 7 5 3 1 2 4 6 8
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I completed this project while in residence as a senior fellow in the Erasmus

Institute at the University of Notre Dame. While I spent most of my time
there on a work that is still in progress, a book on belief and the language of
place-relations in modern English fiction, I was able from time to time to turn
to this one. I also had opportunities to share parts of it with the other fellows,
and I am grateful to them, especially to Roger Lundin, for their encourage-
ment and help. I want to thank the administration of the institute, especially
Professor Jim Turner, for providing me the opportunity to work there.
I showed parts of the manuscript to several people: Dr. Mary Smith and
her husband, Professor Philip Rolnick, Mr. Brett Patterson, the late Profes-
sor Tommy Langford, Dr. Anastasia Gutting, and my daughter, Eva. I am
grateful to them all for their interest in my work and for their many helpful
responses to it. I am also grateful to Ms. Cynthia Read at Oxford University
Press, who read the manuscript with care and offered many helpful sugges-
tions and corrections.
Finally, I want to thank my wife, Phyllis, both for her interest in this proj-
ect and for her help in my attempts to write in a way that would make the
book available to a wide audience.
CONTENTS
Introduction 3
1. Retrieval 13
2. Reenchantment 33
3. Houses 53
4. Culture 73
5. Character 99
6. Pleasure 121
7. Celebration 141
Conclusion 161
Notes 173
Index 191
c. s. lew i s th e n and now
INTRODUCTION
A few years ago, a major in our department who had taken a couple of my
courses asked me to offer her an independent reading course on C. S. Lewis. I
knew of her active involvement in evangelical student groups, and I was not
surprised, when I asked about her interest in Lewis, to learn that she was in-
trigued because he was both a Christianshe gave extra force to that word
and a well-positioned academic. She wanted to see how he managed that.
She wanted help bringing together two important parts of her own life, her
strong religious beliefs and her energetic intellectual pursuits. I suggested that
she reconsider, because the course would not give easy answers but rather
would raise tough questions and call for difficult choices.When she returned
she said that six of her friends wanted to take the course, too. I proposed a
seminar to maximize discussion. Due to demand I have been offering the
course to large classes ever since.
I am intrigued both by the widespread, serious interest in Lewis among
undergraduates and by their parallel desire to explore the relation of religious
faith to the world opened up to them by their academic experiences and their
intellectual curiosity and energy. Discontent with the prospect of a life di-
vided into personal or internal and intellectual or public compartments seems
widespread among students, as is also the willingness both to work at the
question of the relation of intellectual inquiry and critique to religious faith
and to incur the risks that such work entails. Lewis, I have found, becomes an
occasion and guide for students to undertake in their own way and with vary-
ing degrees of success, a process of healing breaches in their lives.
I am also intrigued by the pedagogical opportunity their interest in this
process and in Lewis offers. Usually an instructor must work hard to engage
students in the topic of the course and to sustain that interest over the semester.
3
Little of that is needed in my Lewis class. Students enter with eager,
inquisitive attitudes, and their engagement deepens as it becomes more in-
formed and critical. I welcome this pedagogical opportunity because Lewis,
who combines sophisticated and diverse literary and philosophical interests, a
complex critique of modern culture, strong religious convictions, and a fasci-
nation with difficult theological questions, is worth the attention that the
course requires. In addition, I would always rather talk about religion and
modern culture in relation to particular case studies than in some general or
self-warranting way. Lewis challenges students to examine the relation of cul-
tural to religious studies, to assess the role of moral and religious belief in cul-
tural criticism, and to evaluate the relevance of his work to their own situation
as contemporary Americans.Whatever ones opinion of Lewis, there can be
no doubt that he brings to attention important, even constitutive aspects of
modern culture, and he does so with strong and explicit interest in both moral
theology and cultural theory. Religion, moreover, is not for him something
external and complete that either clashes with modern culture or stands as a
substitute for it. Religion prompts Lewis to raise questions that complicate
and enlarge an understanding of what culture could be, and his understanding
of religion is affected by the culture he both criticizes and affirms.
The centennial celebration of Lewiss birthhe was born in 1898 and
died in 1963sparked my decision to write on themes in Lewis that seem of
particular importance today, especially for Americans working in contempo-
rary academic cultures. The topics I have chosen focus on his imaginative fic-
tion, cultural theory and criticism, and moral and religious thought. These
topics do not exhaust Lewis; nor will they answer all the questions readers may
have about modern culture, religion, and their relation to one another.
Rather, they are topics that mediate a relation between Lewis and the chal-
lenge faced by many, especially young people today, to understand their cul-
tural location in ways that engage religious belief. Made conscious of transi-
tion by the centurys turn, such young people are concerned about relating
the traditional to the new, the academic to the moral, and the public to the
personal, not despite but because of how troubled one or both parties in each
set of contraries may be.
I view this project as a retrieval for several reasons. First, it causes me to go
back to the enthusiasms of my own earlier years, finding much there to be
treasured and reinvested, especially the belief that religion, if it is mature,
should offer what was called back then a world and life view.Second, Lewis
is dated. There can be no question of simply deploying his work in relation to
present challenges. He lived and worked in a world very different from, in-
4 c. s. lew i s th e n and now

deed as much worse as it was better than, our own.As I say to my students, I do
not think it is possible to move Lewiss construction to this place and time and
inhabit it. But in his work there are strategies, critical moves and insights, and
large bits of construction worth imitating and using. Third, I call this effort a
retrieval because in this country Lewis has largely become the property of a
particular set of religious and political interests, and I find that confinement
odd, at best. Among several reasons why, the most important is that Lewis
above all else wanted and tried to live in a larger, more commodious world
than that made available by modern culture. This does not mean that for
Lewis anything goes. But his principal interest is in that larger world and ones
relations to and within it. Lewis would be more engaged by a non-Christian
who lived in a large world and related to its particularities variously and appre-
ciatively than by those Christians who press the world into the shape of their
own agendas. I think the company Lewis would prefer to keep, were he work-
ing in our culture today, would not be provided mainly by those who claim
and treat him now as their own.
Lewis located himself within a specific cultural context, and he was fully
aware of that context. I take my attempt at retrieval as consistent with his
theoretical point, namely, that cultures, like characters, are always particular.
What is arresting and useful in his work lies not so much in its theological
content, which by his own admission is rather standard and minimal. Rather,
it lies in what he does to create suitable cultural and personal conditions as
a context or ground for talking about religion and morality effectively and
truthfully. And that task is made ongoing and particularized by differing and
changing historical and cultural locations.
To put it somewhat differently and, perhaps, more forcefully: Lewis
avoids two mistakes that are pervasive in contemporary American Christian-
ity. The first is to read modern culture as inevitable and irremediable. Lewis,
by not reading modern culture as human culture that has come to fruition,
does not accept modern cultures self-assessment. Modern culture must be re-
dressed, made, that is, more complex and human. Indeed, that is for him a pri-
mary objective. The second mistake that Lewis avoids is thinking that religion
can be self-enclosed, that it can separate itself from its cultural context. He
agrees that Christian spokespersons and church leaders have often been too in-
fluenced by modern culture and have consequently compromised or distorted
Christianity. But he believes that this is not because they have failed to separate
Christianity from culture but because they have accepted modernity as an ade-
quate form of human culture. The task is not to eschew culture, as though that
were possible, but to affirm another, more adequate way of understanding
i nt roduc t i on 5
human beings in their relations to one another and to the world they receive
and are creating. Indeed, for Lewis one cannot begin to understand Christian-
ity without major distortions unless that task is first undertaken.
Americans also tend to misunderstand or misappropriate Lewis because
they are conditioned by modern cultures habits of abstraction. Just as they
shop in malls without an interest in where and under what conditions prod-
ucts were produced, so they want answers, especially religious answers, with-
out an interest in the problems to which those answers are responses. Further-
more,American Christians are, like their nonreligious neighbors, conditioned
by the culture to establish their identities by difference, by standing out or
standing apart. Religious identity becomes yet another culturally inspired
form of taking exception to or being noticeable in the culture. Lewis cannot
be conscripted into supporting either of these tendencies and habits. For him,
the question, problem, or mystery is always primary; the response, especially
when it takes the form of an answer or solution, remains to a degree inade-
quate and provisional. And Lewis, while prizing particularity, did not use reli-
gion as a way of standing out. He was in a number of ways an ordinary man.
His dress and personal demeanor as well as his intellectual goals were designed
not to be off-putting but to heal, not to champion the eccentric but to restore
the everyday.While he was always ready to provoke, debate, and, if necessary,
criticize sharply, he always acted with a sense that there were more important
things to worry about than standing out. The challenges and joys of living for
Lewis lie first of all not in the extraordinary but in the commonplace, not in
conflict but in relationship.
I find Lewiss ordinary and practical way of proceeding to be one of the
reasons he appeals to students. It allows him to articulate credible understand-
ings of the relations between persons and between them and what they en-
counter in their worlds. If anything is to count for him as cultural criticism,
moral philosophy, or religious belief and practice, it must do so in a way di-
rectly relevant to the everyday life of ordinary people. His principal task was
to find a language that would help people to make sense of their world and
their experience of it. The implied invitation to the reader is to give a reli-
gious account of things a try, to compare it with other options. This very
practical approach appeals to American readers, especially students. This is be-
cause many Americans take it as a matter of course that it is up to them to de-
velop personally tailored religious worldviews.They tend to see religion not
first of all as something final to which they conform but, rather, as a way to
make sense out of ordinary experience.They are intensely interested in reli-
gion when and because it helps in creating and maintaining worldviews that

permit them to give meaning to life.1 Students entertain Lewiss views be-
cause what he says is offered as something suitable, not forced onto their lives.
If his work arose from and required institutional or dogmatic conformity, it
would provoke from students equally assertive exceptions and rebuttals. To
use a market metaphor, Lewis can be read as one who has confidence in his
product, and he simply puts it out there for the reader to try. He talks up its
value when he compares it with secular competitors. As R. Laurence Moore
points out in Selling God, Americans are accustomed to having religion pre-
sented to them as an option placed alongside other options.2 American stu-
dents, I am not surprised to learn, find Lewiss approach congenial. They are
willing to sample options, to try things on for size.
Lewiss account of the world and of human deportment in it comes with
an invitation to fill in the blanks or to engage in constructing a similar account
of ones own. His work appeals because he presents his account as consistent
and applicable but not as complete and rigid. He reveals his way of doing
things, but the reader is set free to finish it off or to turn it toward his or her
own situation and sense of things. The account is flexible, and the reader is in-
vited to get the hang of it, to alter it, and to go beyond it. Lewis, in other
words, empowers the reader. He has no interest in devotees or in carbon
copies of himself. He could hardly have been more emphatic or inventive in
emphasizing the particularity of a persons life, especially of a Christians life.
Christians should differ not only from other people but also from other Chris-
tians. He would have agreed with Nicholas Wolterstorff that authentic
Christian commitment as a whole, but also the belief content thereof, is rela-
tive to persons and times. One might insist that there are certain propositions
which belong to the belief-content of all authentic Christian commitment
whatever. Probably so. But certainly they will be few and simple.3
Lewis also appeals to American readers because his work is expansive and
inclusive. Lewis tries to bring into focus not only the complexities of personal
life and relationships but also the relation of people both to culture and to the
natural context of their lives.4 Students are intrigued by a thinker who, rather
than being intimidated by a complex world and retreating from it toward pri-
vate communities and internal awareness as locations and objects for religious
reflection, engages and even affirms that large and complex world, especially
because of its largeness and complexity.
Finally, Lewiss work appeals to students because it is deeply relational in
its thrust. Indeed, his implied theory of internal relations is, I think, one of its
most crucial and useful components. This emphasis speaks strongly to Ameri-
can students. They are presented with many analyses of the world around
i nt roduc t i on 7
them, both social/political and physical, and many analyses of the self. These
analyses tend not only to break things down into parts but also to define parts
as distinct from and even in opposition to one another. It is left to the student
to put the pieces together again. I think that they find it refreshing to en-
counter a critic who works with a basic belief in substantial, primary relations
between aspects of the self, between the self and other selves, and between the
self and the larger world. This emphasis is healing for those whose lives other-
wise are sundered by great gaps or constant conflicts, especially between de-
sires, feelings, and ideas in hereand what exists out there.
Young people, raised on an academic diet of difference and opposition,
are easily intimidated as they contemplate our complex society. They become
uncertain about their own resources and question if there is a place in society
where they can fit. One of the most unnerving questions you can ask an un-
dergraduate is what he or she plans to do after college. This question is always
before them, and it carries a kind of apocalyptic thrust. This anxiety is pro-
duced by an underdeveloped sense of the relation of self to others and the
world. Lewis would argue that it arises from a tacit recognition that the kinds
of analyses and criticism students learn in their classes are inadequate and
problematic because they make external relations, that is, difference, compe-
tition, and conflict, central. One appeal of Lewis for undergraduates, it seems
to me, lies in his sustained and complex attack on the culturally orthodox doc-
trine of external, negative relations. He posits the primacy of relations that
students have been otherwise led to think of as secondary and insecure.
I think these characteristics of Lewis are also suggestive in the larger con-
text of American religious and cultural studies. In a situation in which religion
and morality are regularly relegated to internal states or separated communi-
ties and academic interest in religion is limited largely to psychological, social-
political, and historical descriptions of it, it is challenging to be reminded that
religious beliefs and moral convictions have a positive, public potential. In a
culture such as our own in which religion easily becomes a form of group- or
self-preoccupation, it is refreshing to encounter Lewiss robust and morally
muscular sense of the persons place in the world. He refuses to relegate reli-
gion and morality to private feelings and behaviors, and he refuses to define
the larger culture that we conspire to make for ourselves as wholly evil or irre-
mediable. He does not allow his strong sense of the separation between good
and evil or the creative and destructive in human living to carry over into
other kinds of separations, such as between religion and culture, faith and rea-
son, or daily life and religious discipline. And that is what I find in his work
most encouraging to my own: his sense that the positive and the negative, the

continuous and the dissonant, and the familiar and the unexpected are always
found together. The engaging uncertainty of living arises from not knowing
how much of which there will be and how each will manifest itself. His over-
riding affirmation is that these contraries do not only militate against one an-
other but also are complementary or mutually revealing.
This book is intended, then, to take the reader into what I think of as the
most useful aspects of Lewiss work for people attempting to articulate world
and life viewsthat are both relevant to our current location and informed by
religious beliefs. I have placed the chapters in their present order for two rea-
sons. First, they progress toward the middle chapter, the one on culture, and
then away from it, the first three being less and the latter three more religious
in emphasis. The second reason is that this arrangement is intended to move
the reader from first to final considerations, from beginning to completion.
The Conclusion is really an introduction, a gambit for opening a conversation
about the role of belief in contemporary American culture.
The direction of this book is primarily outward. Its emphasis is construc-
tion. In these ways it stands in contrast to the book that immediately precedes
it.5 The direction of that book was primarily inward. Its emphasis was decon-
structive, and its tone, suited, perhaps, to a centurys ending, was negative. It
moved the reader away from the world and from his or her relations to and
within it. It was a study of the religious discipline of reading a text as scripture.
The main point of that book was that reading a text as scripture involves world
and self-rejection. The primary focus was on exit from the culture, abandon-
ing the world, and divesting the self. In this book things are turned around.
The tone here is primarily positive, suited, perhaps, to a centurys beginning.
The goal now is to reinstate and affirm relations.
A positive attitude toward the world and human culture carries two be-
liefs. The first is that a person cannot live only at the exit or only in rejection of
the culture. It is fashionable among current cultural critics, both religious and
secular, to think that one can live with no affirmative attitudes toward culture,
no sense of the whole, and no positive relations with others. Attempts to live
that way, in both their religious and secular forms, assume that human living is
basically alienated and nomadic.While I believe that cultural divestment and
personal abjection are indispensable to a healthy life, especially for a religious
person, I also believe that they are not the whole story. Reentry, affirmation,
and relations are just as important and just as difficult.
The second belief implied by the direction and tone of this book is that
understanding the world and ones relations to and within it is not simply
there, granted by reality, institution, or creed. It has also to be constructed,
i nt roduc t i on 9
and that construction is ongoing. It is not as though a person, by exiting the
culture or divesting the self, enters a more real world, whether, in its religious
form, a church or body of truth or, in its secular form, the material reality that
supports society or the unconscious desires that underlie the self. Living in a
world and in relations to and within it are the consequence of trusting, acting,
and reflecting. To paraphrase one of Lewiss comments, it is like living in a
house while also engaged in its construction, inspection, and renovation.
It is not clear to me which side of this double story, the negative half of
divestment or the positive half of affirmation, is the more important and with
which half one ought to begin.While some people identify themselves more
with one side than with the other, excluding either side results in a partial and
eventually distorted understanding of both religion and life. Indeed, each side
implies the other, and one without the other is incomplete. A religious life
without the negative side, without cultural exit and self-abjection, becomes
calcified, and a religious life without world affirmation and construction be-
comes self-preoccupied. Consequently, the two sides of the story should not
divide the religious world, as though the one side, the negative, is conservative
and the other side, the positive, is liberal. Indeed, I have tried to undercut this
knee-jerk judgment by using theorists for the negative, more conservative
project who are hardly conservative, who are not theologians or even known
for their religious beliefs: Maurice Blanchot and Julia Kristeva. And now, for
the positive, more liberal project of world and culture affirmation I have
chosen to work primarily with C. S. Lewis, a person who is widely thought of
as conservative.
This book differs from the one that precedes it not only in direction, em-
phasis, and tone but also in style. It seemed incongruous to write a book deal-
ing with the work of C. S. Lewis that would not be available to a rather wide
range of people.Accessibility is a distinguishing feature of his work, and I have
tried to emulate it. I am always distressed when intelligent and motivated
readers find my work difficult to read. This happened again with my previous
book. A church group composed of able people read it and invited me to talk
with them about it. They all, to my surprise, found the book tough going. I
tried to keep this audience in mind while writing this book. A book on Lewis
should not exclude the many intelligent readers outside academic walls who
find him in many ways helpful in assessing the world in which they find them-
selves. Lewis, by writing in an accessible way, does not simplify complex issues
or attempt to gain popularity.Writing that way is a feature, I believe, of his re-
lational view of his audience. His style affirms rather than distances the reader.
In addition, he wrote clearly because he wanted to draw attention neither to

the style nor to himself but to the topic at hand, primarily the intriguing and
problematic world in which we find ourselves. His style, in other words, was
consistent with his belief about relations, consistent, in a word, with love. I
could not hope for anything more than that this book would have a share,
however slight, in these characteristics.
The reader will notice at times that I have run the risk of speaking for
Lewis. There are expositions of his work in my book, but there are also inter-
pretations, reformulations, and extensions. I think that these liberties are in
line with his approach to things. The greatest sign of appreciation or indebt-
edness is the attempt not only to see the world as another sees it but to build on
that persons sense of things and to direct that persons insights toward new
potentials and challenges.
I do not pretend to address or represent the whole of Lewis. There are
parts of him that have a more specialized interest. There are also parts that are
less useful to us here and now. And, it is important to add, there are parts that
will or should put the reader off. For example, racism appears in his work. The
most troubling instance is his depiction of the evil Calormenes in The Last
Battle in terms consistent with the longstanding English disdain toward darker-
skinned Mediterranean peoples. Lewis seems unaware of his racism, and it is
particularly troubling that it appears in one of the Narnia Chronicles, a book
intended for children. The sexism in his work seems to moderate over time.
This may be due to the positive effects on Lewis of the abilities of Joy David-
man, and it is especially true of his last novel, Till We Have Faces. But even
some of his later work carries sexist traces. Homophobia seems to increase as
Lewis matures. He takes a charitable stance toward homosexual activity in his
Surprised by Joy, which may reflect an earlier attitude, but in That Hideous
Strength homosexuality seems tied to the culmination of evil. Homosexual
people in The Four Loves are dealt a particularly condescending and dismissive
swipe. I do not take these moments in Lewis as incidental, random blips. They
indicate serious structural flaws. But I also do not think that they constitute
reasons to reject the whole, as though all the construction is a concealment or
justification of these personal and political beliefs. Nor do I think that we are
free of equally damaging assumptions, however unconscious of them or of
their implications we may be. One always must ask questions. Additional
questions should be asked of Lewis:What in his work is simply English? What
is upper middle class or culturally elitist? What, for all the breadth and orienta-
tion to the future, is still marked by nostalgia for a world long gone? To what
degree, for all its cultural criticism, does it still carry some of modern cultures
negative traces? Questionable parts of Lewis only lend force to the point that
i nt roduc t i on 11
his project cannot be uncritically extended to our own place and time. His
work, rather, should provoke the reader to take what is instructive and useful
and to try it for yourself.
More than that, this book is an attempt to challenge both religious ten-
dencies to live increasingly in rejection of culture and the tendencies of cul-
tural theory and criticism to discount or distrust religion. For this challenge to
be effective, more than Lewis is required. Even more is required than a study
that attempts critically to select from Lewis those parts of his work that seem
most relevant to the present situation and to deploy them within it. What is
called for is a rigorous refusal to allow well-entrenched distinctions to deter-
mine thought on the relation of religion and modern culture to one another,
distinctions like religious and secular, private and public, internal and exter-
nal, values and facts, liberal and conservative, and reality and ideology. These
terms, rather than markers, have become magnets that draw people into dif-
fering camps and that allow difference to be the defining and justifying basis
for identity. All of that should be relegated to a previous century.What Lewis
does most of all is to allow us to recognize that resources for alternative ways of
thinking are also available in that century. Lewis provides an occasion to go
back in order to recover routes not taken, routes that indicate positive possi-
bilities for the future, possibilities that do not dissolve, sever, and repress hu-
man potentials and relationships but call for their healing and release.

1

RETRIEVAL
The recent centennial of C. S. Lewiss birth marked a time not of decline but
of increase in the potential importance of his work for American readers, es-
pecially in academic settings. Some of the earlier academic neglect is traceable
to the diversity of his oeuvre, its cultural engagements, rhetorical style, and
contributions to popular culture, especially science fiction and childrens lit-
erature. But the academic climate, especially in literary studies, has changed.
The formalism and disciplinary orthodoxy characteristic of English depart-
ments a few years ago kept them from accommodating the full range of
Lewiss work. But now literary studies are interdisciplinary and take into ac-
count matters of theory and practice that also engaged Lewis. These include
education and curricula, the consequences of bureaucracies for social space,
value theory, the continuities between high and popular culture,1 the relation
of power and ideology to beliefs and ideas, and what are taken to be the moral
consequences of intellectual and technological imperialism.
The combination of literary with historical, theoretical, cultural, critical,
and moral/religious ingredients normalizes Lewiss work in current literary
studies. Literary studies increasingly are marked by intersections where liter-
ary and cultural interests, questions of belief and value, and awareness of pop-
ular culture, rhetoric, and social/economic power meet and interact. C. S.
Lewis sounds at times like Stanley Fish, a major mover in recent changes
within academic literary studies. At one point Lewis writes, I do not think
that Rhetoric and Poetry are distinguished by manipulation of an audience in
13
the one and, in the other, a pure self-expression, regarded as its own end, and
indifferent to any audience. Both these acts, in my opinion, definitely aim at
doing something to an audience and both do it by using language to control
what already exists in our minds.2 One could stitch that statement into one of
Fishs essays on rhetoric in literary-critical work without leaving a seam.
Half a century ago literary environments were inhospitable to such col-
lapsing of distinctions and such diversity of interest and genre. Academic at-
tention to Lewis was primarily established and sustained by people drawn to
the specifically religious aspects of his work. Lewis encouraged conservative
Protestant literary scholars to relate their intellectual interests to their own
Christian identities and beliefs. During the decades immediately following
the Second World War, faculty in evangelical colleges and religiously conser-
vative literary scholars in other institutions turned to Lewis as someone who
articulated traditional Christian beliefs and values to academic culture. Lewis
provided a model for those who wanted to maintain the role of Christian faith
in intellectual life or were unwilling to let an increasingly secular academic
culture marginalize the religious aspects of English and American literature
and declare religious beliefs irrelevant to literary-critical tasks.
At the same time, there were other models for increasing the role of
moral and religious interests in academic work.While Lewis appealed primar-
ily to conservative Protestant intellectuals, scholars like Jacques Maritain
provided a similar model for their Catholic counterparts. Like Lewis, Mari-
tain received his education in an increasingly non- or even anti-religious aca-
demic environment that he also finally found personally unsatisfying and
philosophically vulnerable. Maritain searched for alternatives to secular and
materialist assumptions, converted to Catholicism, and worked out of a gen-
eral Thomist philosophical orientation. Coming to the United States at the
beginning of the war to teach philosophy first at Columbia and then at
Princeton University, Maritain was able, along with others, to promote
Thomist philosophy in secular settings. He extended the interests of Christian
faith not only into moral philosophy but also into wider areas such as political
and aesthetic theory. Lewis, while not so fully Thomist as Maritain, also drew
heavily on medieval texts of Christian literature and philosophy, criticized
modern culture for its neglect of traditional values, and articulated religious
interests in scholarship and an intellectually examined religious account of the
world. Both, in their differing ways and for differing audiences, were crucial
figures for the changing climate of postwar American academic culture,
which increasingly allowed for the articulation of moral and religious beliefs
within literary, philosophical, and cultural studies.

During the latter half of the twentieth century, academic culture under-
went a gradual reversal of the tendency during the first half to marginalize or
exclude religion and religious interests in or from intellectual work. The in-
creasingly confident secularism of the prewar decades was replaced by greater
uncertainty and by an appreciation for the religious life of different cultures,
particularly Asian. The traumas of war, rapid social change, and the interna-
tionalization of American culture have all contributed to an increased incor-
poration of religion into academic life. This new academic interest in reli-
gion joins the increasingly complex character of literary and cultural studies
to presage a relevance of Lewiss work to academic, particularly literary, cul-
ture today.
Academic interest in Lewis has all along been paralleled by the continuing
interest in Lewis among intelligent Christian readers in America outside the
academy. It is perhaps more difficult to account for this broader admiration.
Lewis, a smoking, alcohol-drinking British academic without strong doctrines
of biblical authority or the Holy Spirit, seems exotic in relation to American
evangelical culture and theology. His appeal very likely lay in the combination
of his readable style with certain characteristics of his theological views.We
should note that Lewis, like evangelicals, did not position himself primarily
within or in defense of the church but spoke from and to a more personally
oriented and construed faith. He was also sharply at odds with the main cur-
rents of modernity, as were readers of a conservative Protestant orientation. It
was very likely helpful, too, that Lewis could be read as politically and socially
conservative. This was possible not only because of his focus on personal faith
rather than on a social gospel or political theology but also because he desired
not to subvert public institutions but instead to realign them with their tradi-
tional sources. Finally, Lewis gave encouragement to intelligent lay readers in
the face of disconcerting and popular theological currents of the postwar pe-
riod such as the aggressively marketed death of Godmovement.
Academics and laity who admired Lewis and used his work as a resource
and model for the redeployment of Christian belief in the context of modern
culture came together to create centers of Lewis study such as that located at
Wheaton College in Illinois. An evangelical institution of high academic
standards, Wheaton melded the scholarly interest of some of its faculty in
the work of Lewis with the popularity of his books among its intelligent
constituency, and that combination has characterized similar institutions
throughout the country.
Americans interest in Lewis was not confined to such circles, however.
The Narnia Chronicles found their way into public and school libraries
ret ri eval 15
throughout the country. Some of his work also had a recognized academic
standing, although not on a level equal to other major English influences on
American literary and philosophical studies during the period. Several of his
books were standard in bibliographies of medieval and Renaissance literature
and on Milton, and some of his writings on theodicy, miracles, and religious
experience found their ways into anthologies and college textbooks on phi-
losophy of religion. This broader interest, both popular and academic, was
exploited, if that is not too harsh a word, by the Hollywood filming of Shad-
owlands. More sentimental than the BBC filming of the stage play, it con-
structed a relation between Lewis and themes dear to Americans, such as the
inadequacy of intellectual, particularly theological, formulations in relation
to experience, especially suffering, and the healing resources of the natural
context of human life. However, it is fair to say that although the work of
Lewis has had a wider currency in the culture, its appeal remains concentrated
in the homes, offices, and institutions of conservative Protestant Americans,
academic and lay.
It would be unfortunate if that limited concentration continued. In my
opinion Lewis is increasingly relevant to the culture of American literary
studies.At centurys end, literary studies resemble hardly at all what was domi-
nant a half century ago, and the change is such that it produces a far more fer-
tile ground for the dissemination of his work. It is possible now to retrieve
Lewiss work from the quarters in which during the past decades it has been
largely confined, while also fortunately guarded and admired.
The attempt to position Lewiss work more fully within the interests of
current literary academia involves a two-part effort. It must first demonstrate
that Lewis should not be confined to parochial religious and cultural interests.
It must then challenge an academic, literary culture that, due to the loss of
certainty, is governed increasingly by the dynamics of distrust and the vagaries
of personal, professional, and institutional power.3
Mention of some negative strains in current literary culture should not
send us in search of more receptive academic terrain in departments of reli-
gion or theological faculties. Those settings are presently structured by two
contrary movements both inhospitable to Lewis. The first is sponsored by the
ongoing attempt to subordinate religion to other ends, either to account for it
in social scientific or historical terms or to harness it to political or psycholog-
ical interests. The second movement is one that, rather than account for reli-
gion in other terms or subordinate it to something else, allows religion to be
an account of the world and of peoples relation to and in it but only in the

context of specific religious traditions, communities, and institutions. Lewis
can be aligned with neither of these two contrary and mutually aggravating
campaigns. He does not subject religion, either in its origin or in its conse-
quences, to other interests or terms, and he wants the account of things that
religion can provide to be tested in and related to public culture.
Lewis, as I understand him, thus finds more potential appreciation and use
in departments of literature than in departments of religious studies or theo-
logical schools. His diverse interests in cultural theory and criticism, rhetoric
and power, in institutions, moral theory, popular culture, and even childrens
literature suit todays literature departments. While it would not do to call
Lewis a postmodernist, it is nonetheless true that the interests that drive and
shape his work (and that alienated him from mid-century academic culture)
conform with those that mark current literary studies. However, Lewis also
represents a potential challenge to current literary culture. That challenge asks
whether the breakdown of traditional barriers, authorities, and distinctions in
literary studies commits departments of literature to anti-religious and amoral
ideologies. While Lewis shares much with the present ethos of literary and
cultural studies, he does not share their present obsession with and deference
to power, especially to power governed by nothing more than a market econ-
omy, the boundaries and directives of the profession or institution, and the
self-interests of those who count themselves among the academic stars.4
There are, however, close parallels between the interests and style of Lewis
and those of current literature faculties. They share a penchant for autobiog-
raphy and personal reference, an intense but critical interest in culture, includ-
ing popular culture, a skepticism toward the prevailing centers of academic
and social power, and a strongly polemical style. But Lewis reveals that these
interests and styles are not necessarily wedded to skeptical or self-serving mo-
tives and results but can also serve positive, public moral and spiritual ends.
It is helpful to notice that Lewis did not advocate religion and morality as
something extraneous to literary scholarship and imparted to it from some
other source. Religious and moral interests were integral to the material he
studied and the critical work in which he engaged. As he points out in his au-
tobiography, he was led to Christianity because it allowed him to take more
fully into account what was important to many philosophical and literary
texts and also to those intellectual and aesthetic experiences that he found
to be significant and engaging.5 No source or authority, institutional or tex-
tual, needed to be invoked other than those already operative in and for his
work: literary texts, their cultural contexts and consequences, and the tools of
ret ri eval 17
literary and cultural theory and criticism. A moral and religious disposition,
he believed, provides a more adequate or appropriate setting or context for
critical, interpretive, and constructive literary and cultural work than its mod-
ern, skeptical alternatives. Lewis could speak from religious belief and moral
concern without alienating himself from or disenfranchising himself within
English literary, humanistic academic culture.
The challenge to current literary studies that lies in Lewiss practice
should not be missed. He did not have to pursue the moral and spiritual as-
pects of literary texts by bringing something to them from the outside. But
literary studies unable or unwilling to take such matters into account and, a
fortiori, those that actively discount them or reduce them to something less or
other, must do so by deferring to something extrinsic to the reading of texts.
Finally, it is important to note that Lewis stressed those elements of reli-
gious faith and practice commodious and flexible enough to take the moral
and religious aspects of literary and cultural studies into account and to pro-
vide critiques of them. He was unfettered by ecclesiastical authority, theolog-
ical dogmatism, or religious controversy. He employed moral inquiry and re-
ligious categories within a cultural tradition largely supplied by the texts that,
as a philosopher turned literary historian and critic, he studied and taught.
These materials needed only to be retrieved, selected, and redeployed. Un-
derstanding and appreciating literary and philosophical texts require taking
them seriously as accounts of the world and of peoples relations to and within
it. It is necessary to imagine oneself into the worlds they make available. In an-
alyzing a particular textual account, it is not extraneous or gratuitous to ask
what is and is not illuminating or satisfying, particularly when compared to
other accounts. This inevitably raises and addresses questions of moral and re-
ligious belief.
American literary academic culture has recently seen a thawing of the
secular certainties that for decades sustained a repression or occlusion of the
moral and religious language of literary texts or of their relation to the moral
and spiritual needs and potentials of the culture.We find ourselves today in a
situation in which Lewiss project should receive fuller hearing. Indeed, his
project contains potential value for efforts now either beginning or called for
to explore the relation of religion and ethics to cultural studies and critiques
that have changed the nature of literary scholarship in America. The centen-
nial observance of Lewiss birth coincided with the emergence of a literary
culture suited to his broadly catholic and intellectually complex religious ori-
entations and convictions. My attempt to retrieve Lewis is largely a response
to these new cultural conditions.

I
It is helpful to recall the historical context in which Lewis prepared for and
entered his vocation. It was a context in which cultural retrieval had convinc-
ing voices and a ready audience. Lewis engaged English studies at just the time
when they became legitimate fields of academic inquiry at Oxford and Cam-
bridge. An academic field newly institutionalized, English rapidly gained visi-
bility and prestige. Perhaps the British literary critic and theorist Terry Eagle-
ton exaggerates when he writes,In the early 1920s it was desperately unclear
why English was worth studying at all. In the early 1930s it had become a
question of why it was worth wasting your time on anything else. He con-
tends that in a very short time, one during which, we should keep in mind,
Lewis entered the field as a student and as a teacher, English became the cen-
tral subject, immeasurably superior to law, science, politics, philosophy or
history.6 But several factors give at least some credence to Eagletons claims.
English, when Lewis entered it, had very much what we would now call a
cultural studies shape. One reason for this is that literature was the chief
source of Englands cultural capital. In addition, the legitimacy and popularity
of English studies were assured by the social concerns of young scholars who
took it up. English provided the cultural content for an emerging academic
population of middle-class sons among whom Lewis can be included.7 It pro-
vided a canon that both was subversive to the cultural authority of aristocrats
and countered the emerging radical force of a political and social left.8
In addition to such matters of cultural capital and authority and more to
the point of our interests here, the rise of English studies also carried strong
moral aims. English studies brought scholars in touch with the nineteenth-
century affirmation of literature as a unifying and morally rectifying resource.
Indeed, identification of literature and criticism with the moral and spiritual
prospects of society was a constant in the nineteenth century, reaching its
fullest statement in the work of Matthew Arnold. The retrieval or continua-
tion of this agenda was undertaken both despite the consequences of the
First World War and because of them. In the period immediately following
the war, sharp discontinuities were felt between the post- and prewar soci-
eties. Radical changes in behavior and values, accompanied by greater mo-
bility and rapidly increasing urbanization, created moral uncertainty and
a diminished sense of shared values and norms. The rise of English as an
academic discipline offered a counter-thrust to these radical changes by re-
trieving the moral content of the literary tradition and critical vocation,
redeploying them in postwar culture. English studies created continuity with
ret ri eval 19
the literary tradition and warranted the role of the literary scholar as cultural
critic and moral theorist.
Powerful philosophical currents also supported the emergence of English
literary studies as a dominant intellectual force in Oxford. Idealism, with its
stress on human reason, morality, and spirit, was very much a part of the aca-
demic climate of Oxford in the years of Lewiss development as a scholar.9
This encouraged him to bring classical and modern idealist perspectives to his
literary work. They helped to shape his understanding of the imagination, to
support his interest in the comprehensive range and unifying force of myth, to
sustain his attention to essences and universals, to substantiate his confidence
in human rationality, and to give relevance to medieval philosophy and litera-
ture and to such particular writers as Spenser, Milton, and the Romantics. In-
deed, Lewiss philosophical and literary canon can be seen as strung on an ide-
alist line from Plato to William Morris.
Retrieval, then, was a primary scholarly, cultural, and moral project for
Lewis. But retrieval was never for him simply a matter of return. It could be ar-
gued that Lewis was infected with the kind of nostalgia that marked the Ro-
mantics he so much admired. I believe, however, that Lewis was as much a for-
ward-looking person, both as scholar and as believer, as he was a retriever of
the past. He looked for yet unheard-of advances in human development, and
in this way he participated very much in the spirit of modernity.10 But he was
also convinced that these advances would go awry if not steadied and directed
by relations with the past. Respect and appreciation for the past does not mean
control by or limitation to its achievements. It is a modern caricature of re-
trieval that sees it only as reactionary. The past is neither irrelevant to the pres-
ent nor a repository of answers to the questions raised in and by present time.11
Our own retrieval of Lewis also will be neither only a return to him nor
an attempt to install his views as fully adequate to the needs of our present
cultural location.We will walk a path between advocates of the present liter-
ary culture who see Lewis as hopelessly bound to and by his own culture and
those opponents of current academic culture who are willing to see Lewis as
adequate in the present time for recovering relations between religious/moral
interests and literary/cultural studies. This work is aligned with his by its op-
position to both these options. Lewis had a strong sense of historical change,
and he understood that religion and morality are articulated and practiced in
and for specific cultural situations.12 His own views and methods are both rel-
evant to us now because some aspects of his culture persist today and not rele-
vant to the extent that his situation as a mid-century Englishman differs from
ours as Americans beginning a new century. Indeed, Lewis contends that ap-

preciation of the past is necessary if a person is to recognize the present as also
a distinct period and as having, therefore, its own limitations and characteris-
tic illusions.13 Given both the continuities and the contrasts between our
cultural location and his, our retrieval of his work must be as selective, as rele-
vant to the present situation, and as forward-looking as was his own.14 It is in
the spirit of his retrievals, in other words, that this one is undertaken.
II
English academic culture is only one of the factors that help us to understand
the development of Lewiss vocation. His own life experience, drifting away
from his Christian upbringing and experimenting with a variety of belief op-
tions, also shaped his sense of vocation and academic identity. The post- or
anti-Christian views he adopted as a young man were those he would later at-
tack. Indeed, it is fair to say that he saw his own life as an epitome of a larger
pattern that English culture could be seen as following.15 As he in his own life
drifted away from Christian moorings into improvised and eclectic spirituali-
ties and popular materialism and narcissism, so English culture neglected its
ties to the past and its sense of shared morality and spiritual aspiration. He
could address competing ideologies and orientations as one who knew them
from within and had found them wanting. As he felt compelled to retrieve a
relation to his religious past, so he also believed that the culture required
a comparable change of orientation. It would be greatly impoverished if it did
not and foreboded a severely limited and morally distorted future for English
people. His analysis of the culture of the twenties and early thirties led him to
see his own conversion and identity change as needed as well for those around
him, especially in academic culture. It led him to attempts to compel them
also to retrieve.
Lewis, like many others in the society, had given himself gradually to a
popular, uncritical materialism. His conversion or return to Christianity by
way of idealism led first to a recognition of the inadequacy of materialisms
account of the mind and imagination. Idealism also allowed for an orientation
to the Absolute, which Lewis understood as personal and active. Lewis, with
his strong interest in moral theory, then recognized the moral identity of God
and finally Gods intrusion into human life.As he put it,my own progress had
been from popular realism to Philosophical Idealism; from Idealism to Pan-
theism; from Pantheism to Theism; and from Theism to Christianity.16
This sequence of events suggests the distance between his cultural loca-
tion and our own. We live in a culture in which philosophical idealism does
ret ri eval 21
not provide, as it did for Lewis, a culturally available bridge to religious belief.
Nor can attention to the moral and spiritual language of literary texts be de-
fended, as it once was, by idealist philosophical beliefs. The decline and even-
tual disappearance of shared cultural idealism constitutes a major challenge
today for any attempt to take the moral and religious significance of literary
culture into account.
Can the moral and religious languages of literature and their relevance to
the culture be taken adequately into account without first attempting to re-
instate some form of idealism? This question will shadow this work through-
out. The objections most common to the materialist and power-oriented
stances of current literary studies appeal implicitly or explicitly to idealist ves-
tiges in American literary culture. I contend, however, that it is not necessary
to restructure literary culture according to idealist beliefs in order to address
the moral and religious potential of literature. If we take literary discourses as
primary, we need only clarify, develop, and reformulate their recognizable
moral and religious language or bring to the surface the norms by which they
positively or negatively depict or judge aspects of human life.
We can understand the relation in Lewis between his literary, cultural
work and his religious faith more clearly if we look at some details of his con-
version to Christianity.We will ask, what was his conversion, and, in particu-
lar, what was it not? First of all, it would not be appropriate to say, in a phrase
one often hears, that Lewis accepted Christ into his life.The language of ac-
ceptance, appropriation, and possession is contrary to what is basic for Lewis.
For him it is essential that the Christian not think of belief as a way of bring-
ing something into his or her life but, rather, as a way of being brought out
into a larger world or sense of the world. As he puts it, This, I say, is the first
and deadly error, which appears on every level of life and is equally deadly on
all, turning religion into a self-caressing luxury.17 Lewis militates constantly
against self-preoccupation and especially against narcissism. An interest in
Christianity that would amount to accepting something into ones life would
be only another form of self-expansion.18 The direction of conversion for
Lewis is very much the opposite, of moving outward into something larger
and more important than the self. A religious person, for Lewis, lives in a very
different world from that of his or her modern, secular neighbor when that
neighbor has been conditioned by modern culture to be self-preoccupied, to
limit interest to the boundaries of a private world. To put it another way, a
non-Christian who is genuinely engaged by and concerned about the larger
world is closer to Lewis than the professed Christian who is self-preoccupied.

Lewiss conversion, second, was not characterized primarily by a desire
for heaven or fear of hell. Convictions about things eternal do have their place
in Lewis, but by extension. To be a Christian primarily because of desires for
and fears of the eternal again fashion religion from the stuff of self-preoccu-
pation. As he says, happiness or misery beyond death, simply in themselves,
are not even religious subjects at all. A man who believes in them will of
course be prudent to seek one and avoid the other. But that seems to have no
more to do with religion than looking after ones health or saving for ones old
age. . . . They are hopes for oneself, anxieties for oneself.19 Or again,Until a
certain spiritual level has been reached, the promise of immortality will always
operate as a bribe which vitiates the whole religion and infinitely inflames
those very self-regards which religion must cut down and uproot.20 In addi-
tion, orientation to the eternal implies disregard for and evasion of the imme-
diate and real, the everyday world and a persons place within it. Christianity
leads to things eternal, but it does so for Lewis through things temporal and of
this world.When Christianity is seen as a way by which people are linked im-
mediately with the eternal, it can easily reinforce the tendency to discount
what lies outside a person in the surrounding world, a tendency to which
moderns in their self-preoccupation are already deeply habituated. Christian-
ity for Lewis leads to the eternal and teleological, but they are extensions of
the everyday world and a persons orientation toward it, not a substitute for
them. For Lewis, becoming a Christian cannot be a way of rejecting the
everyday for the sake of the eternal.
Lewiss conversion equally does not focus on the church, its authority,
sacraments, or communal life. He does not, as one might expect, offer an
escape from the distortions of modern culture by exchanging it for a culture
defined by a religious institution or community.As one of his closest friends at
Cambridge put it, neither in conversation nor in his works did he show
much interest in organized religion. He was orthodox in belief but seemed to
have little sense of the Church.21 This does not mean that he is antichurch;
rather, Lewis the convert locates himself not first of all in an institution or
community but, rather, in a world differently constituted and differently un-
derstood. Conversion did not call him out of the culture and into the church
but to work at the complex relation of Christian beliefs, values, and norms
to the culture. This is why, in the last novel of his space trilogy, the norma-
tive community and the source of judgment on a secular and wholly self-
possessed society is not the church but St. Annes, a place that houses crucial
moral and spiritual resources of English cultural history.22
ret ri eval 23
Finally, conversion for Lewis is not based on reading the Bible or recog-
nizing the Bibles authority.While Lewis draws heavily on St. Augustine and
John Calvin for his theology, he is unlike them at this point. The Bible and its
authority exert their weight or force for him more indirectly and implicitly.
Lewis does not take his cues as a Christian believer and thinker from a need to
accept and defend the infallibility or even the sole authority of Scripture. Let
us hear him on this important matter; he says of the Bible,
It carries the Word of God; and we (under grace, with attention to

tradition and to interpreters wiser than ourselves, and with the use of
such intelligence and learning as we may have) receive that word
from it not by using it as an encyclopedia or an encyclical but by
steeping ourselves in its tone or temper and so learning its overall
message.23
The role and standing of the Bible are as much indirect as direct for him. For
Lewis, the Bible and the tradition of English literature are mutually support-
ive and revealing. Alan Bede Griffiths, O.S.B., who was at Magdalen College,
Oxford, when Lewis was undergoing his conversion to Christianity, said,
Both he and I came to religion by way of literature.24 This does not mean
that Lewis treats the Bible as though it were literatureindeed, he speaks
against doing that.25 It means, rather, that the meaning and authority of the
Bible are to be found not only in itself but also in its recurring and formative
role in English literary culture. I see this as a variation on the Catholic affirma-
tion of the relation of Scripture to Christian tradition.While tradition does
not displace or upstage the authority of the Bible, the authority of the Bible is
actualized in and exerted by tradition. For Lewis, that tradition is less ecclesi-
astical than cultural.
Lewiss conversion cannot be described in any of these ways, therefore. It
is not first of all an acceptance of Christ into his life; it does not arise primarily
from a desire for heaven or a fear of hell; it is not primarily inclusion within
the church or Christian community; and it is not based on acceptance of bib-
lical authority. How, then, should it be described? What difference does
Christianity make for Lewis?
To put it simply, Christianity provided Lewis first of all with what he
found to be a minimal, satisfying, and flexible account of the world and of the
relations of people in and to it. This does not mean that Christianity provided
all the answers to recurring and important cultural and personal questions.

Nor does it mean that Christianity could be presented as a theory, that is, an
account requiring no personal transformation. It provided Lewis a personally
involving and fulfilling but publicly defensible account of the world and the
place of humans in it. That account revealed other, competingthat is, secu-
laraccounts to be inadequate, confining, and inflexible.26 To say that for
Lewis a Christian account of the world is adequate and satisfying does not
mean that for him Christianity is true simply because it works. He is not a
pragmatist, and he certainly would not turn Christianity into a means to
some other end. Christianity works because it is true. But since Christianity
both works and is true, his stress, for apologetic reasons, is on the first part of
it, on Christianity as an account that works, that is, an account that is ade-
quate and satisfying.
It is fair to conclude that for Lewis the crucial failure of modern culture is
that it renders people unprepared to give an account of the world in which
they find themselves and of their behavior in it. They are unprepared because
the narcissist and materialist assumptions under which they operate are unable
to provide an account that is adequate and coherent. People conceal this fail-
ure by denigrating the accounts of others that are not based on self or materi-
ality. Cynicism and skepticism are defenses against giving an account. But if a
person can be led to enter a process of reflection and analysis that leads to giv-
ing an account of the world, that person may become able to entertain Chris-
tianity as reasonable and adequate. Lewis, in other words, is neither a rational-
ist nor a fideist when it comes to the relation of intellect and belief.27 He
believed neither that arguments could lead to belief as a rational conclusion
nor that religious beliefs were non- or anti-rational. Giving an account of
ones world leads a person to recognize the role of beliefs in that account, and
it raises questions about the warrants of those beliefs and their moral implica-
tions. The act of giving an account of the world implied by ones attitudes, ac-
tions, or goals holds promise for revealing the relative moral and spiritual mer-
its of various accounts. Analysis and reflection for Lewis can serve to present a
Christian account of the world and of a persons relations to and within it as
viable, even as more adequate than secular accounts.
Readers of Lewis who are theologically oriented to an anti-cultural and
anti-rational understanding of Christian faith may counter my description
of his conversion and of his positive attitude toward human rationality and
culture by quoting a statement that Lewis repeats several times. He says that
Jesus in the Gospels was either a raving lunatic of an unusually abominable
type, or else He was, and is, precisely what he said. There is no middle way.28
ret ri eval 25
This statement seems to construe the person and work of Christand
consequently Christianityas contrary to human reason and cultural inter-
ests as we normally understand and value them.29
The fact is that for someone in the cultural world of the New Testament
to say such things about himself as Jesus said or to have such things said as were
said about him by others was not as bizarre as it would be today. There was an
active tradition of prophetic claims and royal ascriptions that posited extraor-
dinarily close and unique relations between an individual and the presence of
Gods word, name, and action in the world. The question that arises in New
Testament texts about such claims or ascriptions has to do not with lunacy but
with legitimacy. The offense is not so much that a person would say such
things or have them said of him, as that such things would be said by or about
this particular person.
The cultural world of the New Testament, then, was more prepared than
ours to hear and understand the claims made by and about Jesus. I take it as
consistent with his work that Lewis calls our own culture into question be-
cause of its inability to take seriouslynot to speak of understanding and ac-
ceptingsuch statements about Jesus. It is consistent, furthermore, for Lewis
to point out that the desires and needs to which these statements by or about
Jesus speak are true also of people today and not unique to those living in first-
century Palestine. But in our own culture such desires and needs have been re-
pressed or directed toward other sources of satisfaction.
Why does Lewis make the statements in question? In part he is attacking a
nineteenth-century liberal project. That project sought to dissociate Jesus
from the early churchs interpretation of him and to regard, instead, the ethi-
cal teacher that was the historical man. Lewiss comments are really an attack
on modern cultures desire to evade the matter of Jesuss incompatibility with
modern culture not by challenging the culture but by appropriating what in
the Gospels is morally and religiously compatible with it and relegating the
rest to the distant past.With his statement, Lewis asks his readers to judge the
poverty of modern culture by its lack of interest in language by or about Jesus
that sets him apart from the ranks of religious teachers or founders. When
heeded, that language can be recognized as speaking to needs and expecta-
tions not limited to first-century people but shared by readers living today.
In addition, juxtapositions of this kindlunacy and truthare a kind of
argumentation that Lewis often employs. He often poses exclusive disjunc-
tions that yield two clearly contrary conclusions, one of which is too repug-
nant to accept.30 So, this comment should not be elevated to some normative
status that defines Lewiss understanding of the relation of faith and intellect

or of Christianity and culture to one another. The statement should be seen as
part of a rhetorical strategy, as the last phase of an argument that tries to force a
conclusion by making its alternative unacceptable.
My interpretation of this uncharacteristic, even unfortunate, statement
by Lewis does not imply that he lacks a stout Christology. He holds to ortho-
dox beliefs about the nature and work of Christ. However, it should also be
pointed out that Lewis took ancient myths and literary culture as providing
modern readers with multiple instances of heroes and descending gods. These
recurring types not only can prepare the modern hearer for understanding
Christological talk, but they also indicate the continuing human need and de-
sire that such stories should be true.
Furthermore, Lewis, while working with a sense of continuity between
culture or rationality and religious faith, does not shrink from what is harsh
and confrontational in Christianity. That harshness has both a cultural and a
personal side. On the one hand, he militates against the distortion or dismissal
by modern culture of those human needs, desires, and potentials for which
Christianity gives an account. On the personal level, Lewis is also uncompro-
mising; at some point a person will have to recognize that a Christian account
of the world and of his or her place within it calls for a sacrifice of self-
centeredness. It is not only a matter of choosing ones priorities, a matter, that
is, of deciding that something outside is more important than the self. Such a
decision can be finally self-serving, because the other as desirednation,
lover, commoditycan enhance the self by association. No, what one must
finally confront is the realization that to go further in a Christian account of
things is to give the self over altogether, to be radically altered. An illustrative
example of this difficult and radical change is the experience of Eustace
Scrubb in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It is not enough that Eustace feels
remorse for his selfish and arrogant behavior; he must undergo a painful trans-
formation, which takes the form of having several layers of scales and skin
scraped and pulled off him. A self-denying and radically reorienting act even-
tually is required. But for Lewis that change occurs when a person has come to
see its necessity. The change is, then, consistent with ones own sense of need
and desire. This is why Eustace finds the pain inflicted on him desirable.31 As in
Aristotles theory of dramatic plot, the most propitious time for radical change
coincides with recognition. The initial, basic change effected by conversion is
a new understanding of the world and of ones place and relations in it.
For Lewis the offense and the sacrifice of Christian faith make sense
when they come to awareness within the context of a gradually emerging
Christian account of things. This is especially true today.We lack the kind of
ret ri eval 27
orientation to religious language that marked not only the culture of Jesus
first audience but also Western culture (until recent times) and all other cul-
tures as well.As we shall see, modern culture is for Lewis exceptional in this re-
gard, namely, in neglecting or repressing its moral and spiritual content. Lewis
wants to reestablish a culture which comprises the spiritual and moral factors
that allow people to understand religious language.Without such a culture, re-
ligion in general and Christianity in particular will appear, if not as absolute
lunacy, at least arbitrary or excessive. Even more, they will be distorted in ways
that allow those who do accept religion or Christianity, especially when pre-
sented in radically anti-cultural terms, to use them in the service of modern
obsessions with exceptionalism, self- or group-identity, and power.
Lewis did not think it necessary to transport his readers to the first cen-
tury in order to find a general religious culture that would allow a Christian
account of the world to appear adequate and coherent. He needed to go no
further than the nineteenth century, a time when ancient, medieval, and ren-
aissance Christian beliefs and values were still alive or were being reappropri-
ated. An exemplar is Matthew Arnold, who still admired at least some of
Christianitys most enigmatic and paradoxical motifs, especially its particular
wisdom that only by losing ones life can one begin to find it. For Arnold, this
paradox was central to Christianity and was its most characteristic, provoca-
tive, and truthful point.32 When Lewis remarks on the offensiveness of Jesus,
he is reinforcing a cultural tradition that many in the nineteenth century, in-
cluding Matthew Arnold, shared and restated.
III
Lewis also addresses two objections that modern culture has accepted as ade-
quate grounds for rejecting Christianity as a viable account of the world. One
of these domesticated cultural objections is that Christianity has no answer to
the problem of suffering. If there were a good and all-powerful God, as Chris-
tianity contends, such a God would not allow suffering to occur, especially in
the lives of people who do not deserve it, such as children. The second objec-
tion is that Christian belief requires acceptance of miracles, and miracles are
an offense to a modern sense of an ordered, reliable, and even predictable cos-
mos. These two objections are so powerful because they complement or
reinforce one another. The first finds fault with belief in a God who does not
interfere in human affairs when people suffer beyond their deserts, and the
second finds fault with belief in a God who does interfere in an otherwise or-

derly world. Together they constitute a formidable, well-entrenched opposi-
tion to the viability of Christian belief. Lewis takes on each of them.
Lewis responds to the first objection not by trying to dispel it but rather
by reducing its size. He implies that the problem cannot fully be solved be-
cause that would deny mystery and unpredictability to God. He begins The
Problem of Pain with a discussion of Rudolf Ottos category of the numi-
nous, that is, the often-dreadful power of deity.33 He goes on to question
what it means that God is powerful and that God is good, arguing that Gods
power is not without intrinsic limits and that Gods goodness is not without
harshness. Finally, he points out that much suffering is inflicted on people by
other people, that it is often also a result of peoples own decisions and actions,
and that suffering and pain often have productive results, such as improve-
ments to moral character. In this way, while not solving or dissolving the
problem of suffering, Lewis reduces its enormity and its adequacy as a reason
for rejecting Christianity.
He also takes up the problem of miracles and its role in the portrayal of
Christianity as unacceptable to the modern hearer.34 He argues that miracles
are possible, that they are likely and that, indeed, they have occurred, and he
posits an understanding of God and of our world that allows for the possibility
and even likelihood of miracles. A cosmology that from the outset is open to
divine intervention is basic to his position, as is the idea that miracles are har-
bingers of things yet to come. He implies an analogy between God and the
cosmos, on the one side, and the human mind and the body on the other.
It may be said that Lewis also indirectly addresses the problem of miracles
whenever he engages in imaginative work by presenting alternative or possi-
ble worlds, worlds in which unexpected, amazing, and desired events occur.
He implies that one of the reasons modern people find miracles so problem-
atic is that they live in a world that is otherwise so flat and simple. If we confine
ourselves to a world that we understand and control, the idea of a miracle be-
comes bizarre. As we will see in the next chapter, moderns do tend to live in a
world of their own making, one very much under their control. Appreciation
of miracles, Lewis implies, depends on restoring our ability to perceive the
world as not limited to and by what we understand and control.
In addition to these standard and entrenched modern objections to
Christian belief, Lewis also seems aware of objections that also became stri-
dent in the modern period: the motives of clergy, especially their misuse of
authority, and the hypocrisy of Christians in general. Lewis seems to share
many such reservations. He is critical of Christians, especially clergy, who
ret ri eval 29
have given over their identity in pursuit of fashionable views and flattering
company. But he points out that Christians who are objectionable might
be even more so were it not for their religious beliefs.35 He also exposes the
elitism implicit in the refusal to be associated with less than admirable peo-
ple.36 In addition, the behaviors of clergy and other Christians do not pose for
Lewis nearly so great a problem as they do for those who place the church as
central or crucial to a Christian account of the world and of ones relation to
and within it. Christians, including clergy, are ambiguously related to Christ-
ian faith and to accounts of the world that it sponsors.
IV
Lewiss intention is to retrieve and reconstruct a relation between religious
belief and English culture. He affirms a Christianity that is directly relevant to
people in their actual worlds. It is not detached from common, everyday life
by being confined to the heavens, institutions, or peoples interior lives. He
deals with objections to Christianity that are lodged in the culture, but he
does not see an easy passage from nonbelief to Christian faith. The difficulties
in a Christian account of things go beyond the standard objections to Christ-
ian belief pervasive in modern culture. The more difficult questions are these:
Will people allow their attention to be drawn toward things outside of them-
selves as of importance equal to or even surpassing their own interests? And
will they also be willing to undergo the radical transformation of self that the
life of faith requires?
American readers of Lewis who want to continue his work and apply it to
their own situation need to undertake acts of retrieval as well. Those acts must
reach not simply to Lewis but to resources available within American cultural
history. One problem Americans face, when contemplating retrieval now in
some way analogous to what Lewis accomplished in his own time, is that the
effects may be quite contrary to those for which Lewis pressed.While retrieval
for Lewiss context could have a unifying effect, giving people something that
to a substantial degree they could share, retrieval in American culture threat-
ens to divide people because of the plurality of traditions that go into the
making of that culture. A major effect of retrospection and cultural retrieval
is to remind Americans that they have many pasts. Retrieval in American cul-
ture not only emphasizes differences but also carries, it often seems, the desire
of one kind of Americans to establish their own, particular tradition as au-
thoritative for all. Such an attempt, even if made in the name of what may be
argued is a majority tradition in American culture, is divisive and hegemonic.

While retrieval was a complex effort of interpretation and criticism for Lewis,
retrieval in our own situation must be even more cautiously engaged and even
more consciously selective, inclusive, and reconstructive.
Retrieval will not, in any American version, be as distinctively Christian
or even as fully religious a cultural project as Lewiss. This does not condemn
the project to such vague and insubstantial results as to question the value of
the effort. Nor does it mean that American Christians ought to lose interest in
any cultural project that does not favor what is central to their own religious
and cultural locations or identities.A call for retrieval need not mean either el-
evating one tradition above others or having no relation whatsoever to viable
moral and spiritual beliefs. There are resources that can be retrieved and re-
constituted without necessarily being divisive. They provide moral and spiri-
tual beliefs that Americans from various traditions in their various ways can
recognize, albeit for different reasons, as viable, sharable, and restorative.
We have considered Lewiss relation to the past, his acts of retrieval.We
have seen this in the context of his location in English academic, especially
literary, culture.We have also seen him in relation to the wider cultural con-
text in which his work came to prominence, in relation to his conversion,
and his interest in making religious belief first of all a cultural project. We
now can move from considerations of his relation to the past to address the
question of the present:What kind of changes must occur to enable a person
to view the world in a way that will be open to the spiritual and moral con-
tent of literary culture?
ret ri eval 31
2

REENCHANTMENT
Lewis was convinced that before modern people can understand what reli-
gion is all about, they must change their relation to the world and how they
understand their place within it.1 This change is necessary because modern
culture, particularly modern rationality, has reduced people and damaged
their relations to one another and to their world in such a way that it is no
longer possible to entertain religious belief without distortion.
Lewis believes that religion can be rightly understood only by people
who live in a world that is at least to some degree enchanted. An enchanted
world is one that intrigues a person and that presents itself as being, at least in
some respects, more significant than the person and his or her own interests.
To the degree that they have been affected by modern culture, people to-
day live in a disenchanted world. They think of the world as subject to their
own interests and designs. Having drained the world of significance, modern
people conclude that nothing outside themselves is more important than they
are.2 Religion that is presented under such conditions is bound to be distorted.
For this reason it is imperative that religious people and advocates of religion
pay attention to the culture. Prior to, or as a major component of, any apology
for religion must be an address to the culture. Rather than shape or sweeten re-
ligion to fit it to the culture or to make it palatable, spokespersons for religion
must try to free themselves from the characteristic effects of modern culture
and address its lacks and distortions.3 Specifically some terms must be set for
the possible reenchantment of the world. As Lewis says, In emptying the
33
dryads and the gods (which, admittedly, would not do just as they stood) we
appear to have thrown out the whole universe, ourselves included.We must go
back and begin over again: this time with a better chance for success.4
Lewis echoes analysts of modern culture who find the consequence of
rationalism to be what Max Weber (18641920) called Entzauberung, or disen-
chantment.5 Rationality has increased the power and prestige of the human
capacity to analyze and control the world. A result of that increase wasand
continues to bea shift of the locus of meaning and value away from the
world to the human capacity to understand and control it. This characteristic
shift has produced, since the time of Lewis, a variety of refinements, but it re-
mains largely intact today. One aspect of Lewiss work that remains relevant to
our own situation is his critique of modern rationality.
However pointed his critique of modern rationality, Lewis does not reject
or attack modern culture totally. In this, he differs from many other literary
artists and students of modern culture of his time and from Christian theolo-
gians who took their cues from, or found support in, them. For example, T. S.
Eliot and Graham Greene, two writers who were in other ways very much un-
like one another, both articulated the feelings of cultural loss and emptiness
felt by intelligent and sensitive people between the wars. As William Golding
said, the feeling of disillusionment was so deep that it created, beneath the sur-
face of daily life, a deep cavern of the soul in which people felt stunned.
Generations of people, beginning in the second decade of the century, felt
that they had, Golding writes, been conned into the mincing machine for
which they were unprepared.6 The so-called neo-orthodox theologians de-
veloped their sense of the human condition and of the religious prospects for
human life out of this feeling of shared disillusionment with modern culture.
While Lewis does not underestimate the trauma and disillusionment cre-
ated by war, he points to a wider cause of disillusionment. Many critics of cul-
ture are disenchanted, he thinks, because they had never lived in an enchanted
world. The culture of hollow menis at least to some degree projected. As he
says,The world is full of imposters who claim to be disenchanted and are re-
ally unenchanted: mere naturalmen who have never risen so high as to be in
danger of generous illusions they claim to have escaped from.7 People evince
cynicism, suspicion, and cultural alienation not only because the war has
forced them to but because they were predisposed by modern culture to such
attitudes. Modern people prefer to live in a world drained of value and mean-
ing because they then are free to treat that world with disdain.
The disenchantment of the world, while it takes its sharpest turn be-
tween the wars, stems from assumptions or habits of mind characteristic of

modern rationality. The first, usually identified with the influential work of
Ren Descartes (15961650), is a separation between the world as an object to
be known and the human mind as knower of it. This subject/object distinc-
tion produced an increasingly wide gap between humans with their conscious
awareness and a reality perceived as different from and even alien to human
consciousness. As Paul L. Holmer, in his treatment of Lewis, put it, One of
the most familiar distinctions in the modern intellectual world is that between
facts and values. It is so widely espoused that hardly anyone thinks to it any
more; on the contrary, it has become almost axiomatic, so that most people
think from it.8 The subject/object split allowed nonhuman reality to be de-
fined primarily as brute, without inherent meaning or value, and human
beings to be defined primarily as conscious minds. That opposition became
basic to the typical modern description of the world and the position of
humans in it.Western people increasingly and characteristically understood
themselves as living in a world with which, by virtue of their consciousness,
they had essentially nothing in common. Lewis puts it this way:the world of
facts, without one trace of value, and the world of feelings without one trace
of truth or falsehood, justice or injustice, confront one another, and no rap-
prochement is possible.9 When matters of any kind are divided into two, one
of the two is usually taken as superior to the other. In this case,Western cul-
ture is marked by the assumption that the human capacities to analyze, under-
stand, and control the surrounding world not only sever humans from their
context but also elevate them above it. The nonhuman world becomes de-
fenseless, apart from its own complexity and intractability, against the designs
of humans on it. The surrounding world becomes, then, either an obstacle to
or a resource for the advancement of human knowledge and power. By the
mid-nineteenth century these attitudes gain currency; they become domi-
nant at the turn of the century. And by mid-twentieth century they are as-
sumed as natural.As we shall see, Lewis not only rejects this understanding
of a gap between consciousness and reality but believes that, within a culture
that assumes this gap, religion will be distorted. For Lewis no such gap exists.
The second assumption characteristic of modern culture and causally re-
lated to disenchantment is that meaning and value arise from human con-
sciousness and are projected by it onto the world. This does not mean, finally,
that moderns have come to associate value with themselves, although that also
is true. It is more that value becomes a matter of conscious construction,
choice, and assignment. Value holds a questionable position when it is de-
tached both from the surrounding world and from human attributes, atti-
tudes, and behavior. Human life, including consciousness, can then be thought
re e nc hantm e nt 35
of apart from value. As Anthony Cascardi writes,[Max] Weber would accept
the premise that value-freedom constitutes a value in its own right, but it is
this very attempt to hold values in suspension that finally places the very no-
tion of value into doubt.10 Moderns think of themselves as constructors of
value who selectively assign value and meaning not only to things and events
in their world but also to other people and to themselves. Consciousness be-
comes the source and arbiter of meaning and value, and meaning and value
become associated with the power of a person to generate and assign them.
The diabolical human behaviors that Lewis depicts in his fiction characterize
people who recognize no value outside of themselves, even in other people,
and who think that questions of value do not precede but are secondary to the
extensions of their own interests and will.
The third disenchanting assumption characteristic of modern rationality
is that analyzing, understanding, and controlling entities and events in the
world depends on reducing them to their simplest or most basic parts. This
method becomes part of modern science through the work of Francis Bacon
(15611626). Bacon extended the tradition of reading nature as a text, a sec-
ond scripture. For Bacon reading nature was a process by which the reader
not only would be divested of previously learned notions about nature but
could discern its simplest designs. From the beginning, then, modern forms
of scientific analysis worked against the stream; the inquiring mind resisted
the complex appearances of things in order to work past appearances to their
simple, determining characteristics.
Starting with GiambattistaVico (16681744), Bacons method was trans-
ferred to the study of human events and history and eventually to humans
themselves. As Bacon wanted nature read against the stream, against how it
presents itself, so Vico read the history of nonbiblical peoples against the
stream because,Vico believed, people misrepresented their histories particu-
larly by depicting their origins as edenic when actually they were not. So,Vico
read the history of people against their own self-understandings. This nega-
tive or resistive approach underlies the attitude of suspicion that characterizes
typically modern forms of analysis and interpretation, particularly of human
materials. The prevailing assumption is that the way humans present or un-
derstand themselves and the way they really are should by no means be taken
as the same thing. In fact, it is assumed that humans present themselves in the
ways they do precisely to conceal from others and even from themselves what
actually is the case. This suspicion finds its most influential articulations in the
work of Karl Marx and Sigmund Freud.11 As we will see, Lewis does not ob-
ject to reduction and even suspicion as particular kinds of analytic acts, but he

objects to them as general attitudes or as definitive of relations with ones
world and, particularly, with other people.
These three modern assumptions or habits of mind conspire to disenchant
the world: 1. separation or alienation of humanity, especially consciousness,
from its nonhuman context, 2. dissociation of value and meaning not only from
the nonhuman world but from humans as well, making value and meaning the
results of conscious construction and projection, and 3. belief that knowledge
and understanding arise mainly if not exclusively from the reduction of things
and events, including humans and their behavior, to their simplest compo-
nents, and the tendency to view humans as presenting themselves in ways that
conceal what is actually true of them. It is against a situation so constructed that
Lewis carries on his work.War may have been a precipitating event or created
situations in which attitudes already implicit in the culture became overt, but
the disenchantment of the world is not primarily caused by war. It is more the
result of the willingness of modern people to define themselves and their
world in terms shaped by these modern assumptions and attitudes. And I
would contend that our situation today, while complicated by the subversion
of modernist assumptions in postmodern theories and criticism, cannot be un-
derstood unless these three cultural assumptions are taken into account.
I
People interested in religion and its viability within present-day culture com-
monly respond in one of two ways to the situation that we are summarizing
with the term disenchantment. Lewis avoids both of these common responses.
The first response that Lewis avoids is to discount the value of rationality
or view it as hostile to religious life. Since Weber had identified rationality as
the cause of the disenchantment of the world, its rejection would be an obvi-
ous path to follow toward the goal of reenchantment. The overvaluation of
rationality and the unbridled curiosity of the modern intellect could easily be
countered by advocates of religious faith who devalue rationality and call for
greater intellectual restraint and passive credulity in human life. Such advo-
cates could, for example, counter the primacy of rationality by arguing fur-
ther that feelings and actions are more important for human life than mind
and thought.
Lewis does not respond to the disenchantment of the world by diminish-
ing the importance of rationality. He resists that part of the Christian theolog-
ical tradition that in the name of faith throws suspicion on reason and the ac-
quisition of knowledge. He does not posit faith as contrary to reason, and he
does not identify humility as incompatible with the advancement of learning
and the development of natural and human potential.12 Lewis does not think
that humans can be too rational or know too much about their world. Fur-
thermore, he does not assume that various aspects of human life, such as intel-
lect, feeling, and will, are or should be separated from or opposed to one an-
other. What one thinks, what one feels, and how one acts should be very
much related to one another. One aspect of the moral life is a matter of right
relations between these distinguishable but not separate human potentials.13
Lewis implies that limits or counterbalances should be placed not on ra-
tionality and the acquisition of knowledge but rather on specific modes of
modern rational and scientific analysis. There should be restraints on the prac-
tices of separating things or events from our sense of their significance and
value, of assigning value and meaning to things and events, and of reducing
things and events to their simplest components. These marks of modern ra-
tionality and analysis can be and often have been productive and illuminating,
but they become damaging when they operate as inclusive cultural attitudes.
As accounts of reality that articulate and determine the relation of human be-
ings to their world they create mischief.14 Affirming the validity of modern ra-
tionality and modern forms of analysis while militating against their excesses
constitutes a more difficult project than Lewis would have were he, in the name
of Christianity, simply to oppose rational and scientific analysis altogether.15
The second path that Lewis avoids is to see the modern disenchantment
of the world as a theological gain and an apologetic opportunity. Moderns
and their disenchanted world, their sense of alienation and emptiness, and the
depictions of the human condition in modern art and literature (especially
during the half-century beginning with World War I) as hollow, shadow-
like, lost and lonely, a Waste Land,were taken by some as theologically pro-
ductive. They were read not only as the results of disbelief in God but also as
revealing what human culture necessarily becomes in the absence of true reli-
gion. Christian theology could be taken as making common cause with these
descriptions of the modern human condition by redeploying the traditional
language of original sin and human wickedness. The Christian theologian
could posit a dialectic by which theological intensification of the worlds dis-
enchantment could provide the negative pole to which a positive, contrary
possibility, namely, revelation and redemption, could be opposed. That con-
trary was presented as coming from a source outside of and even antagonistic
to human culture and history. That outsidecould be, for example, the inter-
nal human potential for freedom, a location transcending human history, or a
community of faith cut off from transactions with its cultural surroundings.16

However, as Kenneth Surin points out, one cannot view rationality and
its effects as the basis for a Christian contemptus mundi without turning ration-
ality into a cause or consequence of evil.17 This radical opposition of the di-
vine and the human is, in my opinion, itself a product of modern culture,
with its habit of dividing things into contraries, especially the contraries of
agent and object, and its use of opposition to clarify identity.While Lewis by
no means minimizes the power and consequences of human evil, he does not
believe that evil has left humans and their culture bereft of anything to be af-
firmed and even loved. It is possible for humans to become so evil that no fur-
ther relation with them is possibleWestons condition toward the end of
Perelandra, for examplebut modern people and modern culture have not
reached that point. Because the radical separation of religious belief from hu-
man culture is, for Lewis, a fundamental error, any theological construction
built on it is basically flawed as well.
Lewis follows neither of these well-worn paths. He does not diminish the
value of rationality, and he does not believe that the description of modern
culture as a Waste Landand of modern people as hollowprovides a base for
theological construction. He affirms rationality, proposes its exercise within a
healthier cultural context, and points to the necessary relation between the
cultural reenchantment of the world and the prospects of religious faith.
Lewis, then, sees the typical marks of modern rational inquirydistin-
guishing fact from value, consciously projecting value, and reducing entities
or events to their simplest componentsas defensible. The problem, Lewis
implies, especially in The Abolition of Man and in the space trilogy, is that these
modes of rational and scientific analysis have been so extended that they have
come to characterize the relation of modern people to their world and to
other people. Lewis does not see this extension as an inevitable consequence
either of rationality or the pursuit of scientific inquiry.As he says,It is not the
greatest of modern scientists who feel most sure that the object, stripped of its
qualitative properties and reduced to mere quantity, is wholly real. Little sci-
entists, and little unscientific followers of science, may think so. The great
minds know very well that the object, so treated, is an artificial abstraction,
that something of its reality has been lost.18 For Lewis, the negative charac-
teristics of modern culture arise not from rationality and scientific inquiry, as
Weber argues, but from pride.19
Pride, while not a consequence of modern rationality and scientific
analysis, flourishes under the conditions they create, especially when they be-
come all-encompassing accounts of the world and of peoples relations to and
in it. When such accounts become commonplace, there is nothing left to
check the growth and exercise of human pride. The world is drained of value
and significance except for what I decide to project onto it. I can begin to sub-
ject the world, including other people, to my own interests and designs. This
grants me unbridled power over the world and freedom from accountability
to anything or anyone else. Limits are set only externally, that is, by those who
do not want my self-interests to impinge on theirs.When strategies of rational
analysis are turned into an account of the world, they allow pride and self-
preoccupation to flourish unchecked. Human beings, because of the root na-
ture of pride, are always ready to take advantage of a situation in which pride
is not held in check, and modern culture provides just such an occasion.
What is unique about modernity is that rationality and other forms of
human power are not set within a culture able to check their excesses, direct
them outwardly, and secure their relation to worthy goals. The question is
this:What provides the critical and moral context for the exercise of human
power? The answer for Lewis is that this possibility lies first of all with literary
culture. Literary culture can and should counter the tendency of modern
people to assume that nothing is more important thanindeed nothing is im-
portant at all exceptthemselves.
II
Lewis views the problem of modern culture as arising not from rational or sci-
entific methods but from the human pride that abuses them; this emerges in
his depictions of schooling in England. His attacks on the school system are
directed not first of all toward what is taught in the classroom, which would
include training in modern forms of rational and scientific analysis, but to-
ward the attitudes that schools inculcate.Arrogance and disdain, characteristic
of the more privileged among Englands youth, foretell a population of future
leaders who form a bitter, truculent, skeptical, debunking and cynical intelli-
gentsia.20 When the tools of modern rational and scientific analysis are put
into the hands of people with such attitudes, when those tools are deployed in
the absence of a morally restraining or directing cultural context, they in-
evitably are used to expand the power and pride of detached and elevated
selves. And, as he points out in The Abolition of Man, modern pride and self-
interest find their true goal not in understanding nature or even in exercising
power over it but, rather, in the imposition of power held by a few onto the
lives of the many.21 Pride and arrogance easily can flourish under conditions
created by the belief that rational and scientific methods of analysis provide

adequate descriptions of the world and of the relation of people to it and to
one another.
In The Abolition of Man, Lewis challenges one of the major results of the
disenchantment of the world: locating value in personal feeling and prefer-
ence. This practice, an example of which he cites from a recently published
literature textbook, is defended on the basis that students thus are liberated
from the values of others and enabled to make value judgments of their own.
The advocacy of skepticism and subjectivism as a defense against dogmatism
and tyranny already reflects, according to Lewis, the situation that it attempts
to avoid. The real threat of domination lies not in a situation structured by
values but in one drained of them. It is only when teachers and students share
values that there can be anything like freedom and anything like the con-
scious scrutiny of and debate about value.22 Without shared values, those in
authority stand under no limits and can exercise their power unabashedly.
Nothing is already in place, nothing is shared by students and teachers that
will limit and direct the imposition of authority over the minds and feelings
of children.Without shared values, only power remains.Without shared val-
ues children suffer the imposition on them of adult will, a process not distin-
guishable from the training of animals.23 When education is divorced from
shared values and a world that has inherent value and meaning, the principal
result becomes not freedom but subjugation. Students either succumb to this
power or respond to it negatively, directly or covertly, by an exercise of power
that they take as their own.
What grows in the open ground where shared value has been drained out
is not freedom but self-interest. Self-interest compensates for or seeks to re-
plenish the world drained of value and significance by projecting onto it the
value and significance of self-interested selves. Lewis knew intimately Mil-
tons depiction of the newly fallen Satan in the opening books of Paradise Lost.
Detached from the shared values of heaven, Satan marshals his followers by
force of rhetoric in order to project value and significance on a value-free hell
by means of his own, self-serving ambition. Freed from what he construes as
the constraints and repression of heaven, Satan and his followers will create
what Satan projects as a fabulous, alternative world of their own in hell.
Power, which alone is left when the restraints of shared value and meaning are
gone, can appear arresting and convincing. In both The Screwtape Letters and
the temptation scene in Perelandra, Lewis improvises on Miltons Satan. In
each case he makes clear that this exchange of shared value for a value-free
arena determined by power leads to conditions of absolute evil.24
We must notice that in Lewiss space trilogy it is the representatives of
modern disenchantment and power who make Elwin Ransoms visit to other
planets possible.Without the scientific knowledge of Weston and the entre-
preneurial sponsorship of Devine, Ransom would not have undergone the
process of correction and sanctification that results in his ultimately redemp-
tive role. The journeys to other planets are implicitly affirmed, and Weston
deserves the primary credit for them. Although the physicist is portrayed
more favorably than Devine, the entrepreneur, there is also some implicit de-
fense of the relation of business to science as productive for human explo-
rations and learning.25
Ransom favors Weston, we assume, because physicists are in a position,
comparable to that of few others in our culture, to appreciate the scope and
complexity of the world in which we find ourselves.A physicist will be able to
recognize that something beyond the human is primary to and in some re-
spects more important than the human. Devine, the entrepreneur, lacks that
awareness and is merely parasitic on Westons advances of knowledge and
technology; he subjects the entire enterprise to his own self-interests:ocean-
going yachts, expensive women and a big place on the Riviera.26 Weston in-
creasingly resembles Devine because he treats whatever he encounters as sim-
ply an extension of his own intellectual powers and control. He does not
recognize the dependence of his scientific knowledge on the world that has
opened itself to his exploration. His arrogance depends on discounting the
value and significance of what lies outside himself. Weston and Devine, al-
though they seem by the force of their work and intelligence to have ex-
panded the world and human access to it, thus live in a smaller world than
Ransom because they think only about their own interests and are actually
closed to anything unexpected or new.
Lewis frequently makes the point that moderns, although they think they
live in a world that is larger and more interesting than the worlds of those in
previous and in other cultures, actually live in a smaller, more uniform, and
less interesting world. Moderns tend to subject the world in its vastness, com-
plexity, value, and significance to the sharply delimited boundaries of their
own self-interests. For example, Prince Caspian indirectly but unmistakably
depicts such a culture. As in the modern West, the domain of King Miraz has
been falling under the sway of various kinds of disbelief. The result is a culture
that has also become increasingly cut off from what lies beyond the borders of
its own control. The inhabitants of the culture have grown alienated from
what they do not know, and they more and more fear it.

Because he does not find the cause of the worlds disenchantment in ra-
tional and scientific methods of analysis and does not think they inevitably
lead to arrogance and self-interest, Lewis can grant room, within a less prob-
lematic culture, for skepticism and rigorous analysis. In That Hideous Strength,
for example, Ransom welcomes the rational skepticism of MacPhee in the
community of St. Annes; MacPhee resembles The Great Knock, the tutor
who prepared Lewis for Oxford and whom Lewis so much admired.27 The
critical, even suspicious and negative side of rational inquiry is not itself re-
sponsible for the disenchantment of the world.Within the cultural context of
St. Annes, MacPhees skeptical and analytic stance plays a useful role. But
when it becomes identical with inquiry, when values are subjected to it, and
when it serves as descriptive of the world and of our relations to and within it,
fertile ground is created for unrestrained human pride and a self-absorption
that results in the disenchantment of the world.
Although played out in another key, we find a similar case in Uncle An-
drew in The Magicians Nephew. His principal fault lies neither in his curiosity
nor in his interest in magic. Rather, his fault lies in the arrogance and disdain
for others that allow him to isolate himself from his context and to use others
for his own designs. He limits possibilities to his own self-empowerment, and,
consequently, he is unable to hear intimations of new realities when they oc-
cur, as in the music of Narnias creation. For all of his apparent desire for magi-
cal possibilities, Uncle Andrew lives in a disenchanted world and is deaf to the
magical qualities of what is occurring when Aslan creates the world of Narnia.
It is important to recognize, while considering the disenchantment and
reenchantment of the world, that modern people are highly susceptible to
false forms of enchantment. In a world that is largely disenchanted, people are
vulnerable to compensating relations and are likely to fall under the sway of
enchanters. The Silver Chair presents a very good example of such susceptibil-
ity. In the Underworld, where Jill and Eustace find themselves, they must
constantly resist the attempts of the witch to enchant them. This resistance
takes forms of suspicion, questioning, and even skepticism that resemble very
closely the strategies of rational and scientific analysis. The distinction in
Lewis between a reenchantment of the world that is preparatory to religious
belief and falling under the sway of modern enchanters and their manipulat-
ing power is similar to the distinction he makes between destructive and cre-
ative acts of the imagination, which we shall consider later on. Both distinc-
tions are crucial, but both are difficult to make because the mistaken or evil
option in both cases is a perversion or misdirection of something good.28
Distinguishing between good and bad enchantment or between creative and
destructive uses of the imagination is not rule-governed, not a matter of ap-
plying some simple test. It depends, rather, on the ability, developed and nur-
tured over time, to distinguish the good from its counterfeits. Living in an en-
chanted world has nothing to do with coming under the sway of enchanters,
such as modern advertising and the enchanting and enticing world of com-
modities and consumption that it offers.
Separating fact from value, projecting consciously constructed relation-
ships, and reducing entities and events to their simplest partsstrategies of ra-
tional and scientific analysisproduce particularly sinister results for Lewis in
the social sciences. It is not simply, as Paul Holmer says, that for Lewis general
laws do not and cannot explain human behavior; it is that modern forms of
analysis cannot be readily transferred to the study of human beings because
human beings should not be treated as without value.29 One should never
deal with other human beings as though they lacked value.30
Mark, in That Hideous Strength, is a sociologist, and his training and intel-
lectual methods fit him perfectly into the ideology of the National Institute of
Co-ordinated Experiments, or N.I.C.E. Mark thinks of people and of human
relations in the abstract. He is more interested in intellectual categories than in
human beings, and he displays attitudes toward people that bracket out the
question of their value. This attitude allows Mark to become increasingly sep-
arated from the interests of the people for whom he is developing policy. The
shift from treating people apart from their value to treating them impersonally
or abstractly and then treating them with disdain and with a will to control
them are all-important stages in Marks degeneration. They are, as well, both
typical of modern intellectual culture and easily taken as natural or inevitable.
When social scientists apply modern forms of analysis to the study of hu-
man beings, they not only separate human beings from value but also reduce
them as much as possible to their simplest or most basic ingredients. Reduc-
tion becomes a view of people by which everything about them is taken to be
less than it appears. Joy Davidman described very well what happens when
this mode of analysis becomes a worldview:In 1929 I believed in nothing but
American prosperity; in 1930 I believed in nothing. Men, I said, are only apes.
Virtue is only custom. Life is only an electrochemical reaction. Mind is only a
set of conditioned reflexes, and anyway most people arent rational like ME.
Love, art and altruism are only sex. The universe is only matter. Matter is only
energy. I forget what I said energy was only.31 When rational reduction be-
comes a habit of mind and a way of life and, particularly, when it becomes a
way of understanding other people, everything a person encounters is melted

down and homogenized.32 Frost tells Mark in That Hideous Strength, I must
ask you to be strictly objective. Resentment and fear are both chemical phe-
nomena. Our reactions to one another are chemical phenomena. Social rela-
tions are chemical relations.33 Even religious experience comes to be ex-
plained as suppressed erotic drives. Lewis does not deny basic ingredients, but
he rejects their use as fully explanatory. For example, he recognizes, in The
Four Loves, that the erotic has a role in religious life, but he by no means wants
religious life reduced to it. He also does not want the experience of joy, as he
describes it in Surprised by Joy, to be reduced to erotic terms.34
Whether by abstraction, which absorbs the particular interests of people
into large, impersonal categories, or by reduction, which dissolves complex
states of response and desire into their components, modern social science is,
for Lewis, a fertile location for the disenchantment of the world. While,
again, it does not seem that for Lewis the social sciences are necessarily com-
mitted to such acts of abstraction or reduction, the character of Mark in That
Hideous Strength suggests that Lewis is not hopeful that the social sciences
have within them self-critical or restraining factors that would keep them
from leading people to relate to others with attitudes of detachment and
eventual disdain. And the absence of such inner restraints in the context of a
culture unable to provide them creates a situation that seems inevitably to
carry disastrous consequences.
Max Weber saw the disenchantment of the world as institutionalized by
that epitome of rationalist authority and power, modern bureaucracy.35 Lewis
clearly agrees. The two most evil structures that Lewis describes are both bu-
reaucracies: N.I.C.E. in That Hideous Strength and the lowerarchyof hell in
The Screwtape Letters. As we can see in Marks gradual assimilation by the ethos
of N.I.C.E., bureaucracy, because it is governed by efficiency and rationality,
by abstraction and generality rather than particularity and actuality, bypasses
the question of value and goal altogether. It is a structure of means. It creates
an environment where people who are driven by pride or by the desire to ex-
pand their power and to exercise their ambition to control other people can
thrive unchecked.And hell, in The Screwtape Letters, is a place where people are
reduced and even devoured by the insatiable need of the bureaucracy to pur-
sue its own interests at the total expense of those exploited and devoured by it.
Those who drain their world of value and project their own interests on
it, while at first making themselves exceptions to this process, eventually also
become its unwitting victims. They end not as elevated above or immune
from but as subject to the reduction and devaluation that they perpetrate
on others. For there is nothing finally by which the value of the self can be
sustained. The self cannot hold out as an exception to the otherwise universal
identification of all entities and events with their most basic and minimal in-
gredients and with states of inherent worthlessness. As Lewis says, While we
were reducing the world to almost nothing we deceived ourselves with the
fancy that all its lost qualities were kept safe . . . as things in our own mind.
Apparently we had no mind of the sort required. The Subject is as empty as
the Object.36 The self cannot retain its own value when it is reduced and de-
valued by the views of others.37 Those who turn the world into something to
be exploited or dominated must also, as we will see, suppress their own gen-
uine desires. For these desires suggest the possibility of a larger and more sig-
nificant world, a world more important and primary than the one constructed
by the self for itself. Such longings find fulfillment not by means of subjuga-
tion and control but by relationship and incorporation. The disenchantment
of the world, which is undertaken for the sake of self-enlargement, ends with
a withering of the self.
III
The question now arises as to how, according to Lewis, the world can be re-
enchanted. This is a task that cannot, for people with moral and religious con-
cerns, be sidestepped. A person who does not first understand the basic rela-
tions in which he or she actually lives will not be able to understand the kinds
of relations of which religion speaks. This is especially true of Christianity. To
paraphrase the Johannine epistles, one cannot love God, who is unseen, if one
does not first love other people who can be seen. As Lewis puts it toward the
end of The Four Loves, If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly
beloveds whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be so towards God
whom he has not.38 He goes on to say that moderns do not stand so much in
danger of loving the world too much as of not loving it enough.39 To put it
yet another way, religion cannot be called on to create relations between peo-
ple and other people and the larger world in which they find themselves.
What Christianity can do is to offer a differing, more truthful and satisfying
understanding of what kind of relations they are, can, or should be.
If the world is to be reenchanted, the first thing that must be done is to
house rational and scientific forms of analysis in larger, cultural terms. Lewis
does not agree with C. P. Snow and his thesis of two cultures.40 The problem
is not that modern rational and scientific interests form an alternative culture
in competition with literary culture. Rather, the problem is that moderns, in
their disenchantment of the world, in their eagerness to use rational and sci-

entific forms of analysis to explain the world and their place in it, treat their
own culture as though it were not a culture. Moderns hold previous and other
cultures in disdain not so much because of the assumed superiority of their
own culture as because they imagine themselves basically to be unaffected by a
culture, to be fundamentally free of its restraints. This notion was introduced
already in the sixteenth century. Francis Bacon, whose models of inquiry set
the standards for the Royal Society, thought that attention to natural facts and
processes could bring the inquirer to a position prior to language. This as-
sumption that scientific inquiry is able to secure a vantage point free from lan-
guage and culture creates the impression that language and culture are sec-
ondary and even gratuitous.41
When Weston stands in the epitome of Malachandran culture, the isle of
Meldilorn, in Out of the Silent Planet, he expresses disdain toward what is going
on around him. This is not because he values his own culture above that of the
Malachandrans but because, while trying to analyze what is going on around
him, he assumes that he stands outside of culture. His swagger, his patronizing
stance, and his attempt to penetrate behind the practices he sees to what
reallyis going on are all the signs of one who counts himself as not impeded
by any culture of his own. The distinguishing mark of the Western mind is its
putative ability to determine what things really are or what is really going on
behind the appearances of culture. Culture, the assumption goes, should be
stripped away, allowing the facts to stand revealed.42
While Ransom the philologist and Weston the scientist may appear to
represent the two cultures that C. P. Snow contrasts, they represent instead
what happens when scientific interests break away from the constraining and
directing value system embedded in or conveyed by the culture that Ransom
embodies. Ransoms linguistic, literary, and historical interests sufficiently re-
late him to human culture so that he is able to engage and increasingly to un-
derstand the culture of Malachandra. He ventures to understand the language
of Malachandra, for example, because his linguistic training tells him that
there are structures to language shared even by languages that are separated by
planetary space. Ransom is a moral and spiritual force in the novel not because
he is in any way, as yet, a spokesperson for religion but rather because he places
rational and scientific analysis and hypothesization within the context of cul-
tural value and practice. His cultural location does not close him to new dis-
coveries and experiences. Rather, he is able to apprehend them because he
draws on the resources of his own cultural tradition.Weston, who has divested
himself of such resources, is both dangerous and comic in his failure to under-
stand where he is and what is going on.
Lewis rejects the notion that culture is optional. Even the scientist is
located in a culture and has roles relative to it, and culture carries moral direc-
tives and goals relevant to the well-being of other people and future genera-
tions.When people, including scientists, imagine themselves to be free from
the directives of culture, they can easily mistake their own interests for those
of the larger world and dismiss those whom they see to be culturally located
as hopelessly limited and parochial. This gives rise to arrogance and disdain
for the larger worldattitudes epitomized by Weston as he stands before the
Oyarsa of Malachandra.
What is also needed for the gradual reenchantment of the world, in addi-
tion to recognizing ones location in a particular culture, is a kind of pulling
back. There needs to be a willingness to count characteristic forms of modern
inquiry and analysis as at best partial and strategic, as designed to produce spe-
cific and limited results. The world is not coterminus with our abilities to un-
derstand and control it; it contains, rather than is contained by, our minds and
techniques. What is needed is an attitude that allows both nature and other
people to be what they are instead of what we want them to be in order to an-
alyze, know, and control them.We must not define the world, especially other
people, in terms primarily of what we can understand and control or devalue
or repress what in our world we do not understand or control. Backing off
does not guarantee the worlds reenchantment, but it is the only way to begin;
reenchantment depends on it.
The third thing needed for the reenchantment of the world is the recog-
nition that we have value and significance not at the expense of or in isolation
from the world of things, events, and people but in relation with them. Per-
sonal identity is not forged by means of individuation and even less by means
of opposition but by means of relationship. As Paul Holmer, summarizing
Lewis, puts it, the self is a relation, not a thing. The personality is neither
godlike and truly original, nor simply an effect and made only by externals. It
is both made and maker, debtor and giver.43 Indeed, acts of attention to
other people, things, and events in the world are necessary counterparts to
acts of inquiry and analysis.
Recognition that other things are more interesting, important, and valu-
able than we are ourselves is indispensable to all knowledge. This, I believe, is
why Lewis continues to value scientific methods of inquiry and analysis. Sci-
entific interests offer the possibility of recognizing, as the scientist is trained to
do, that what is being examined is primary and takes precedence over any no-
tions about it or intentions toward it that the scientist may have. More than
many others in the culture, scientists have a sense of the cosmos as immensely

complex and beautifully balanced; it is a distortion of science to think of it as
subservient to our interest in reducing the world to human control. As Lewis
says, it is the little unscientific followers of science who think that objects
stripped of qualities are by virtue of that stripping more real. Such objects and a
world constituted by them are not real but an artificial abstraction.44 Neither
science nor its strategies of analysis constitute the problem. Trouble begins
when the methods of the scientist are elaborated into a general account of the
world and of our relation to it and to one another. This extension is increas-
ingly common and now is poised to become the ideology of the modern self.
For Lewis, we are related to the world around us not only intellectually
and physically but also by our feelings. In The Four Loves he addresses various
kinds of relations that we have with one another and with nonhuman objects,
such as nature and nation. He sees the various forms of loveaffection,
erotic desire, and friendshipas locating people in relation to others who are
considered to be important and valuable in themselves. Our loves provide a
significant basis for our sense of the value and meaning of the world of which
we are a part.
Lewiss attention to human relations points to the fact that such relations
are internal and not merely external. Our tendency is to construe our relations
with other things and even other people as marked by difference and distance
and to understand our identity as prior to and independent of them. We
should, however, understand relations and identities as based on what we share
with other creatures and on what we receive from them. As we shall see more
fully in the chapter on pleasure, relations for Lewis are reciprocal, and our basic
attitude toward our world should be one of both expectation and vulnerability.
For the world once again to be enchanted, therefore, we must recognize
(1) that we have a cultural location, (2) that our characteristic methods of
analysis are partial and strategic, (3) that the larger world has a real or potential
value and meaning which must be recognized, and (4) that as individuals and
groups we have value not primarily in isolation from or opposition to others
but in relationships with them. In addition, we must recognize the relation of
particular things in our world to our sense of the whole. Any particular object
of study, of desire, or of devotion becomes distorted when it ceases to be part
of some larger temporal, spatial whole. This does not mean that particulars
become tools to reach a larger goal. Rather, the value or meaning of a particu-
lar thing or event is positively related to the value and meaning of the whole.45
Recognition of the universal potential of particulars and of the particular
qualities of the temporal, spatial whole serve, in complementary ways, to en-
large the world and to affect the way a person relates to it.46
Finally, the reenchantment of the world requires the revaluation of the
language of poetry and imagination and of language in the service of cele-
bration and gratitude. Because of its evocative and culturally resonant charac-
ter, poetic language can convey a sense of the importance of particulars and
of the particularity of kinds of relationships and of kinds of unity. Poetic lan-
guage also, more than the language of analysis and inquiry, carries the culture
forward, clarifies and tests values, and counters the alienating effects of ra-
tional and scientific strategies of analysis. More, poetic language, in contrast
to the languages of philosophy and science, is able to bring us out of ourselves
and to place us in possible worlds such as those provided by fictional fantasies.
This power of poetic language allows us to participate in worlds not governed
by our own self-interests.47 Such uses of language alter not only the world but
also the self in fulfilling and reconstituting ways. The world and self thus
created conform more fully than their disenchanted alternatives to what we
most deeply desire the world and our role in it to be. In the modern world,
poetic and imaginative work often compensates unfortunately for the disen-
chanted world by creating fantasies of personal satisfaction, situations that
counter reality in order to flatter the self. Lewis sharply distinguishes between
acts of imagination that confine or distort and those that free, correct, and ex-
pand: We long to go through the looking glass, to reach fairy land.We also
long to be the immensely popular and successful schoolboy or schoolgirl. . . .
But the two longings are very different. The second . . . is ravenous and
deadly serious. . . . There are two kinds of longing. The one is . . . a spiritual
exercise, and the other is a disease.48 The diseased imagination is really an
extension of the modern self s desire to be increased and to find its fulfillment
in its own terms, that is, in itself. The creative imagination does the opposite.
It corrects the tendency of the self to subject the world to its own interests by
placing the self in larger, more significant situations.
IV
Every self-understanding and deportment implies an account of the world; a
person and his or her attitudes are inseparable from that implicit account.Wes-
ton and Uncle Andrew do not realize that their lives are structured by a set of
postulates as to what is real and valuable and what is not, or that these postu-
lates form an implicit narrative of destruction both of others and themselves.
A person and a persons implicit account of the world, while not the same
thing, are closely intertwined. A good indication of who I am is the account
of the world and my place in it that I take to be adequate.

Freed from the need to control and discount them, a person will find that
the world and other people become more complicated, intriguing, and valu-
able than his or her accounts of them. For Lewis, accounts of the world are
never adequate. They will always fall short of the value and significance that
arise for a person in his or her relations to and within the world. This means
chiefly that if we let the world, especially other people, be significant and if
we are willing to listen to and be open toward it, the world will not only be-
come significant but also will speak in edifying ways to our desire and need for
fulfillment. To put it another way, we know that arrogance and disdain, when
recognized for what they are, are boring and injurious, and we should be cau-
tious concerning assumptions, attitudes, and acts (including religious and the-
ological ones) that give space to them. Conversely, if we know that receptivity
and respect increase the value of human life, then we should develop ways of
attending to the world that will enhance them. An attitude or act that is not
consciously religious or theological but increases recognition of the value of
human life and its context is more helpful than religious or theological acts
and attitudes that do not.
To live in an expanded world, a world that we treat as always more than
we can take in, is nothing innovative or exceptional; we are always already liv-
ing in such a world.When we look at anything, we are latently aware that it is
part of something larger that we cannot see, and that it is significant not only
in itself but in terms of that context. For example, when we see a building
from the front we know that the facade that can be seen is continuous with an
inside and with the rest of the building which cannot be seen and from which
the facade derives a great deal of its significance. True, we know this from our
experiences of the insides as well as of the fronts of other buildings. But it is
also the case that we are always relating particulars that we encounter to some-
thing more, either temporally to the past or future or spatially to related or dif-
fering entities. The world is always more, and more important, than our en-
counters with it and our accounts of it, and encounters and accounts should
be confirmations of that truth. The act of imagination that attempts to bring
all of our experience into a coherent synthesis so that the world is for us a
whole49 is warranted not simply by the existence of our imaginative powers
or even by the largeness and richness of the world. It is warranted by the mu-
tually revealing and correcting relation between our experience and the
world that our imagination illuminates. For people and groups who learn to
live in the world in such a way rather than in the dominant, modern way, the
world will increasingly become reenchanted and in ways that do not compro-
mise rationality, exploration, and a sense of human advancement.
Americans who want to take on Lewiss project and apply it to their own
context may face an even more intractable situation than that addressed by
Lewis in the England of his day. American identity, far more than English, is
closely associated with modern rationality, scientific analysis, and technologi-
cal advancement. Americas world prestige is not based on its cultural richness
but on its power, a power tied very closely to an entrepreneurially fueled sci-
ence and technology. Furthermore, our imaginative life is heavily influenced,
if not dominated, by market values continually reinforced by advertising that
directs desire toward consumption and uses enchantment to control. The
American scene seems not unlike the disenchanted world that Lucy enters
when she moves from the wardrobe into Narnia, a place under the spell of the
wicked witch who brings only winter and never Christmas. And the religious
life of Americans, rather than ameliorate these tendencies, seems actually to
abet them. What is needed is not, first of all, more religion. America is not
lacking in religion. What we lack is a culture that can check and direct the
power of reduction and abstraction.We need to ask if we are wholly without
cultural resources for reawakening a sense of the world as not utterly con-
trolled by the cold hands of technological reduction and market abstraction. Is
there still a culture available to us that can begin to thaw the deadly effects of
the witchs spell?

3

HOUSES
While considering acts of retrieval, we pondered our relation to the past. In

our discussion of the disenchanted world we inherit from modernism, we
focused our attention on present time. Now, as we turn to houses and other
spatial language that Lewis uses to frame his thoughts on religion and culture,
we will look to the future. Before asking why houses direct attention to the
future, we should look briefly at the place of spatial language in Lewiss work.
Since Lewiss academic position was based primarily on his role as a histo-
rian of literature, it may seem strange to claim that his work is controlled more
by spatial than by temporal modes of thought. This claim does not slight the
fact that he had a very good feel for earlier periods, especially for the Middle
Ages and Renaissance, and for ancient cultures. Lewis also had clear ideas
about modern history, especially about the changes that occurred in English
culture from the beginning of the nineteenth century to his own time. How-
ever, his historical interests, though strong, were subordinate to his use of spa-
tial language. In his historical work, for example, he tried to convey a sense of
the world as a whole in which people once lived. In Surprised by Joy he narrates
his own life as having, according to the books subtitle, a shape,and the sec-
tions of his autobiography are determined by various locations. In his fiction
he transports readers to other worlds. Although his fictions contain many
events and actions, temporality serves primarily to expose readers to the qual-
ities of the worlds made available to them. Finally, Lewis was especially fond
of using spatial imagery to suggest what it is like to live in a world that is
53
understood religiously, and the task of giving a Christian account of things
produced a more spatial than temporal construction. It is not surprising, then,
that houses and housing provide recurring images for his understanding of the
world and that houses, as he says in Surprised by Joy, are almost characters in
his life story.1
A central image in Lewiss spatial language is of a child living in a house.
He grounds this image in Surprised by Joy on the experience of the house to
which his family moved when he was seven years old. The size of the house,
its configuration, and, especially, its attics provided Lewis a stimulating con-
text for the imaginative adventures in which he and his brother engaged.
Lewis also describes the house of his mothers aristocratic cousin. He always
felt welcomed there, and it confirmed the role of houses as both accommo-
dating and stimulating to his sense of possibility.
The role of houses in Lewiss early years suggests that they are relevant
particularly to the past and useful for giving structure to early memories. As
we shall see, a leading theorist of spatial images, Gaston Bachelard, argues that
our early memories are arranged not chronologically but spatially and that the
house (or houses) in which we lived as children provides the framework for
that arrangement. However, Lewis uses spatial imagery primarily to direct at-
tention not to the past but to the future. This is especially clear in his use of lo-
cations in the space trilogy. Interplanetary travel is something that the reader
entertains as a future possibility, and the last of the three novels clearly projects
future, dystopic conditions. But it is also true that his central image of a child
living in a house is oriented not to the past but to the future. A child lives in a
house in terms of possibilitiesexploration, a setting for make-believe, and
a sense of both enticing and forbidding locations. From the standpoint of a
child the house is related not to the past but to the future. The house offers
space that the child can alter and enhance by acts of imagination. The various
places in the house have both present and potential significance for the child.
The house encourages the childs future.
Gaston Bachelard points out, in his Poetics of Space, that even adults imagi-
natively project their futures in terms of a kind of abode.2 We relate a certain
life for ourselves to appealing accommodations and project possible futures by
imagining other types of housing. Indeed, life for many people seems to be a
quest for just the right house, either by modifying the one they inhabit or by
looking at different homes and imagining themselves into them.
This is the core of Lewiss interest in spatial language and images generally
and in houses specifically. He has in mind the sense of possibility, of a future,
the kind of desire that prompts the child to explore and make believe and that

brings adults to consider adding a room or to look for a house that will better
satisfy their yearnings. It is that sense of possibility that lies at the heart of what
he means by giving an account of ones world, of taking seriously the world in
which one lives. In effect, he asks his readers,What kind of world-house are
you living in? Is it adequate to your needs and desires? He then invites them
to compare that world-house with the kind that a Christian account offers.
He contends that a Christian account provides a world-house that is more
commodious, more satisfying, and more edifying than secular alternatives.
I
Houses in Lewiss work are large, have many rooms, contain surprising and
intriguing nooks and turns, and have spacious attics. To a child, of course, a
house will always seem larger than it would to an adult. For a child, too, the
house is a haven from the complex and often difficult outside world of inter-
actions with other children and adults, and the attic is a retreat from the va-
garies of domestic life.While there may be other hideaways and places of re-
treat, a space behind furniture or a closet, the attic is an expansive, alternative
world, a spacious exception to the rest of the house. The attic, moreover,
where the framework of the house, the alignment of beams and braces, is visi-
ble, has a geometrical quality that makes going up to the attic an elevating and
edifying movement, with rational and imaginative potentials.3
The house excites the imagination not only because it invites explo-
ration, provides refuges and retreats, and comprises differing kinds of spaces.
It is also comprehensive. A large house, especially for a child, is an inclusive
space, a world large enough to be inexhaustible but not so large and various
that it outstrips a sense that it constitutes a whole. For the child the house is
not, as it may be for an adult, a possession that speaks of achievement but a po-
tential world that receives the child.When a child and an adult say my house,
they are expressing quite different kinds of relationships.While it may be too
much to say that the child belongs to the house, it can certainly be said that the
child does not think of the house primarily as a possession. For an adult the
house is a commodity. For a child the house accommodates, releases the
imagination, and holds inexhaustible significance.
The house also sustains the childs imagination because the child deposits
treasures within it. Such treasures can be, by normal standards, trivial: a box or
drawer containing pictures, bits of string, stones, a cast-off piece of jewelry.
Gaston Bachelard argues that there is a moral and spiritual dimension to this
storing of items that are perceived as valuable and are hidden from others,
h ou se s 55
including family members. It conforms to the development of the childs per-
sonal worth, to a value that is inviolable and to which the child can retreat in
difficult times.4 The treasure stored in some secret place of the house consti-
tutes a kind of Fort Knox that validates the growing social currency of the
childs activities. He contends that children are so interested in little boxes and
in keys and locks not because of their protosexual significance but because
children are fascinated by the idea of securing treasures, of placing their most
valuable things in a location inaccessible to outside interference.
A striking example of the sustaining power of hidden treasure is provided
by Elie Wiesel in his autobiographical narrative, Night. The young narrator
turns, amidst the horrible deprivations and physical and psychological torture
of the concentration camp, to the reassurance of remembered treasure. He
and his father recall the fact that they hid family valuables in the basement
floor of their house before their eviction. Now, under terribly dehumanizing
circumstances, they have some sense of continuing worth because of the at-
tachment, however distant and irretrievable they may be, to precious, per-
sonal things hidden in their house.
Lewis also uses houses to allow children to relate their world to animal
life. The child thinks of animals as feeling in their beds, nests, and dens in ways
similar to how the child feels when at home. The habitats of animals are so in-
triguing to children because they recognize immediately and intensely what it
means to have a house and what being at home feels like.5 In the Narnia
Chronicles the children often encounter the talking animals in their homes.
They relate strongly to the animals in terms of the warmth, hospitality, and
relative safety that homes provide the animals, as well as to the horror of a
home invaded and destroyed, as in the raid by the wicked witchs secret police
of Tumnuss house in The Lion,the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Houses play other important roles in the Narnia Chronicles. For exam-
ple, the action of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe begins in the professors
large country house, to which the children have been brought for their pro-
tection during the war. Lucy moves from the upper story of the house
through the wardrobe and out into Narnia. That movement is stimulated by
the exploration of the house in which the children engage. The role of the at-
tic is particularly elaborated in The Magicians Nephew. There the geometry of
carpentry is suggested by the mathematical calculations made by the children.
There, too, Polly keeps her little box of treasured items. The edifying, even
idealist qualities of the attic are suggested by the fact that it runs uninterrupted
above the divided houses below, allowing the children to pass from one house

to another. In both of these narratives, entry to alternative worlds is stimu-
lated by the houses that the children explore.
Houses in Lewis often take on maternal qualities.We may see in this some
lingering effects on Lewis of his mother, who died when he was very young.
That trauma, the loss of a sustaining world, may suggest why Lewiss houses
take on maternal qualities, as houses often do for children. This seems espe-
cially possible for someone like Lewis who grew up in a home in which his fa-
ther was associated primarily with the outside world and his mother with the
domestic. Houses do have maternal qualities for him. True, a male professor
presides over the house in The Lion,the Witch and the Wardrobe, but it is a house
cared for by four women, and it provides shelter for the children. In addition,
Digory, in The Magicians Nephew, is living with relatives in London because
they are caring for his ill mother, and Digory, during his adventures in Narnia,
thinks of her often and acts on her behalf. Lewis also underscores the maternal
qualities of houses by the name he gives to the future house of culture in That
Hideous Strength, St. Anne, the name of theVirgin Marys mother.
In Lewiss work, then, a sense of being at home in a house, particularly as
true of a child, serves as a metaphor for living in a world that is structured by a
Christian account of things. All that we have said about living in a house can
be transferred to the larger and vastly more complicated location of the world.
One can live in the world that, like a house to a child, invites exploration, ex-
cites the imagination, and calls out our potential by its edifying effects. There
can be a sense of being included, of participation. One can feel stimulated to
imaginative elaboration. Specific places can be invested with personal treas-
ures. And one can have an understanding of what other peoples lives are like.
One can even have some sense of rapport with animals, by extending the rela-
tion that exists between a person and his or her sense of placement in the
world to the lives of other living creatures.
By making living in the world akin to living in a house, Lewis does not
shrink the world or shape it to the interests of personal space. He does not do-
mesticate the cosmos, which would be narcissistic. Indeed, the mistake that
can be made at this point reveals again how close together for Lewis truth and
distortion lie. No, by establishing a relation between the personal sense of liv-
ing in a house and the larger and far more complex and ambiguous matter of
being in a world structured by a Christian account of things Lewis expands
and complicates the personal. He challenges the individual and private by
means of the public and inclusive. Ones house is in the larger world. The
world does not become a private realm in which the Christian, let us say, holds
h ou se s 57
pride of place. Lewis means that we know from our experience of being
housed as children something of what it would mean to live in a world
opened up by a Christian account of things. Both are marked, above all, by a
sense of relationship, of being included. This feeling of incorporation within
something larger and more significant, something that invites the mind to ex-
plore, complicate, and enhance it, is basic to his sense of what it means to be in
a world. A Christian account of things fails from the outset if it does not re-
lease and validate such a sense. The opposite of what Lewis advocates would
be an account of things that conforms the world to the interests of the Christ-
ian, that makes the Christian central within it.
II
St. Annes, the house in That Hideous Strength, exemplifies the relations that
Lewis draws between the metaphor of houses, a Christian account of things,
and human culture. While world, Christianity, and culture have temporal
qualities and are ongoing and developing, they are experienced primarily as
spatial. As a historian, Lewiss goal was to make texts in the tradition available
and useful to contemporaries, to work against the tendency of modern cul-
ture to treat the past as distant from or even as irrelevant to the present. St.
Annes is a house of culture or culture as a house, and the very ancient and the
modern are accommodated side by side within it. There is something not
only spatial but habitable about culture. Like the many books that crowded
the house of Lewiss youth, the cultural past is present to a person in the texts
that stand on the shelf ready to read. A culture, like a house for a child, is al-
ways already there. A person is born into and placed within it, becomes aware
of it, explores it, and is affected by it.While it is encountered as a complex and
commodious whole, the particularity of its various parts are not for that
reason in any way compromised. Textuality provides, with equal force, the
awareness both of interrelatedness between texts and of their arresting partic-
ularity.6 Finally, relating to culture like inhabiting a house does not denote
passivity. A person also rearranges and adds to the house of culture. A person
within a culture is not a spectator in a museum but is a participant in an
ongoing enterprise.
Unfortunately, moderns do not live in their world that way. They do not
feel related to it, supported and challenged by it. They do not explore its many
and varied parts and eagerly renovate and add to it. Rather than live in that
kind of world (or in their world in that kind of way), moderns tend to live in a
world defined by means, by machinery, tools for communication and trans-

portation, and money. This is because they understand their culture and their
lives as measured and determined by technological developments and by the
increasing powers such changes provide. These changes consign the past to
the outmoded and superseded.7 Because outmoded machines no longer are
useful and have value only as curiosities and because modern life is so condi-
tioned by machines, moderns tend to treat all that belongs to the past as dis-
placed by the present and relegated to quaintness. Moderns live not only in a
greatly reduced and confined world but also in a world determined primarily
by what is useful. This changes the metaphor from house to workplace, labo-
ratory, or market. For Lewis, that way of being in the world is bound to be
constricting and unsatisfying. He posits, instead, a large, furnished house of
culture with its surprising nooks and crannies and its many evidences of bril-
liant and inventive former inhabitants who, both by what they did and what
they failed to do, invite contemporary inhabitants to augment or rectify.8
Lewiss use of houses as metaphors in his work is not eccentric. By em-
phasizing relations both real and possible that moderns may recognize and re-
new with the past, he creates a more sharable world than the modern period
provides. In fact, Lewis seems, by these efforts, to be more at home with post-
modern than with modern thinking. This can be seen not only in his stress on
living in the world as though in a textual house but also in his spatial language
and orientation. As Fredric Jameson puts it, it is at least empirically arguable
that our daily life, our psychic experience, our cultural languages, are today
dominated by categories of space rather than by categories of time, as in the
preceding period of high modernism proper.9
The language of place and space in Lewis is prominent in his narratives.
He creates memorable fictional characters, but they are usually arrivals to or
inhabitants of places that they discover, explore, or represent. His plots, while
marked by action and change, are usually journeys to and within places that
are both threatening and intriguing. For Lewis, exercising the imagination is
very closely tied to the act of placement, of imagining an alternative world
and imagining it as a whole.What makes a garden or a model village so pleas-
ing is that it grants that sense of an integrated whole that the imagination pro-
vides.10 What he most likes about fictional narratives is that they allow one to
live in a different world or to be placed in the familiar world differently.What
for him is intriguing in stories about pirates or Native Americans, for exam-
ple, is not the action or even the characters so much as it is the world in which
they are set and of which they are an almost natural part.11
Alternative or fictional spaces provide Lewis with the potential for alter-
ing the attitudes that alienate us as modern people not only from the historical
h ou se s 59
dimensions of our culture but also from the larger cosmic context of our lives.
In his space trilogy he counters modern notions of space, namely that it is in-
hospitable and forbidding, with the contrary notion that space is stimulating
and inviting. Ransom discovers that space has surprisingly supportive quali-
ties, and it causes him, despite unfamiliar surroundings, quickly to feel at
home:He had thought it [space] barren: he saw now that it was the womb of
worlds.12 Ransoms hostess on Perelandra lives in her world as though in a
house. Come, she said, with a gesture that made that whole world a house
and her a hostess. When Ransom suggests that they go to her home, she asks,
What is home?The place where people live together and have their posses-
sions and bring up their children [Ransom replies]. She spread out her hands
to indicate all that was in sight.This is our home,she said.13 Lewiss language
of house or home, the prominence of settings in his fiction, his understanding
of culture as textual, and his affirmation of the natural world as the arena of
human life conspire to invite the reader to feel, in William Jamess words, at
home in the universe.14
These associations with place and home are crucial in Till We Have Faces.
The revealing difference between the narrator and her sister Psyche is that the
narrator is unable to see the new home that Psyche now inhabits. Here it is
not seeing that is believing but, rather, believing that is seeing. Her inability to
see the house also reflects the differing trajectories of the sisters lives.While
the narrator is possessive and self-oriented, Psyche has lived in her world out-
wardly. Her new house is the context of a realized future, the fulfillment of
her hopes and desires.While the narrator is put off by the mysterious and even
forbidding qualities of Psyches new location, Psyche has the confidence to be
included and fulfilled by it. Her life in her new home is an extension of her
earlier disposition toward the world.
Till We Have Faces also makes clear that Lewis, while he associates mater-
nal images with feeling at home, does not define living in the world primarily
in static terms. The emphasis does not fall on security and comfort or on re-
turn.While much needs to be retrieved that has been lost, feeling at home it-
self is progressive, just as, for the child in a house, there is not only familiarity
and reassurance but also discovery and challenge. The house does not confine;
it expands. Nor does Lewis, by relating the cosmos and our place in it to living
in a house, minimize the complexity of the world or reduce its vastness to
manageable size. Indeed, as the child does not minimize but expands the
house, so a person feels at home in the universe not by reducing it to his or her
own size but by affirming it as inexhaustibly expanding and including.
Homeis not primarily a state of arrival, mastery, or contentment; it is a state

of enlivened imagination, a sense of something more, of advancement and
growth.A house has, for the child, unexplored and even frightening parts, but
it is no less enticing and desirable for that.
To live in the world as if in a house is to feel related to it, to be excited and
intrigued by it, to be both intimidated and supported, surprised and illumined
by it, grateful and responsible for it. Feelings of what Rudolf Otto called the
numinous, the feeling of the uncanny, can also occur in the house.15 But those
feelings are possible because they are housed within a larger sense of inclusive-
ness, a sense of being at home, of being in a state of primary relations with the
human and nonhuman location and context in which one finds oneself.
III
It is not surprising, then, to find Lewis treating Christianity, too, as a kind of
house, as in his preface to Mere Christianity.16 Indeed, one begins to have some
sense of what Christianity offers only when one recognizes what it would be
like to live in the world or in culture as though in a large and many-roomed
house. Christianity offers, for Lewis, an account of the world that is more ac-
commodating and stimulating than alternative accounts. Nobody lives in the
world in some kind of raw and immediate way. All live in the world as a con-
struction. If that is the case, it becomes possible to argue that religion gener-
ally and Christianity specifically provide a more inviting and commodious
house than do their main modern rivals, the constructions of materialism and
narcissism.
Christianity offers a house to which those who have left it should return;
conversion is a kind of homecoming. Christianity is like a house because it
not only offers an account of the world but also makes clear how one can feel
related to and accommodated by it, how one can be in the world the way a
child is in a large and complex house. Christianity places us rightly in the
world. Materialist accounts are less commodious because they relegate spiri-
tual and moral matters to the status of epiphenomena and consequently alien-
ate large and significant potentials of our lives from their surrounding context.
Narcissist accounts are confining because they reduce the world to the self or
expand the self to include the world.
In addition, Christianity is sufficiently expansive to allow place for con-
traries such as the material and spiritual, the particular and the universal, the
past and the future, the ephemeral and the lasting, the self and the other.
Christianity has room for cosmic as well as for personal matters, for sophisti-
cated and simple interests, and for daily life as well as ultimate ends. It all fits
h ou se s 61
together, makes sense as a whole even though particular parts may, in them-
selves, seem odd or perplexing. And, like a house, it has its forbidding and off-
putting places.
The image of Christianity as a kind of house, as a capacious and inviting
account of the world and of our place in it, does not convey as much finality
or completeness as it might seem. The account of our world that Christianity
provides is sketchy; a Christian account is a kind of framework that is con-
stantly in need of being filled out. As Lewis writes, I claim that the positive
historical statements made by Christianity have the power, elsewhere found
chiefly in formal principles, of receiving, without intrinsic change, the in-
creasing complexity of meaning which increasing knowledge puts into
them.17 Christianity in its account of things always becomes involved with
particular, culturally dictated interests, although it should not be permanently
associated with them. If that happens, a basic distortion can occur: Christian-
ity is relegated to the role of validating the interests of a particular culture or
group, thereby becoming subordinate to those interests. Consequently, while
it is to be expected that someone, let us say, with political interests would con-
struct relations between Christianity and political issues and strategies, those
constructions, while legitimate, remain partial and temporary.
Christianity is not so amorphous and insubstantial that it is completely al-
tered by differing situations and times. Christianity also has an intractable con-
tinuity or skeletal stability that, to extend the metaphor, people in various
times and situations and with particular gifts and needs build on or flesh out.
The accounts of the world that various Christians articulate allow not only for
specific applications of Christianity to differing situations but also reveal the
continuity between them.What is subject to change in Christianity and what
endures is revealed by the dynamics of continuity and discontinuity character-
istic of human temporality. One can be certain, in other words, that there will
be similarity between differing Christian accounts without being completely
sure of what that similarity will consist and where the differences will appear.
While grieving the death of his wife, Lewis contemplated a more radical
position on Christian accounts and their lack of permanence. Instead of the
metaphor of framework and filling in, he chose a metaphor for starting each
time from scratch:However often the house of cards falls, shall I set about re-
building it? Is that what Im doing now? Indeed, its likely enough that what I
shall call, if it happens, a restoration of faithwill turn out to be only one more
house of cards.18 While I do not deny the validity and force of this radical
metaphor of a house of cards, I think that the other understanding of the
Christian house as a more durable framework that needs in each new situation

to be filled out is more consistent with his overall project. Lewis tends to take
mediating positions on alternatives, and one can infer that his position is to
affirm both the continuity of Christianity and its changing and diverse articu-
lations. The house of cards metaphor emphasizes the temporary or insub-
stantial aspects of the construction, aspects that at points in a persons life, par-
ticularly painful times, can become more noticeable than the constructions
more durable or sustaining aspects.
It is crucial, particularly in the face of some present-day theological inter-
ests, to stress that the house of Christianity is not an independent, separate, or
substitute world. Rather, Christianity opens up the world in which people
actually do or can live. The affirmations of Christianity reveal the size, struc-
ture, and complexity of the world. One affirms Christian statements not by
retreating into them or even by assenting to them but by living in the world
that is actualized by them. I find dissonance between Lewis and some of his
American devotees at this point. They seem to recruit Lewis into a sharply fo-
cused set of affirmations believed to provide, in a culturally complex society, a
sharply differentiated and separated identity. Lewis, in my opinion, tended to
see theological and dogmatic statements not as marks of identity or battle cries
in some kind of cultural conflict. They are, instead, articulations of the kind
of world in which a Christian lives, statements that can be thought of as pro-
viding a framework for a constructed account of the world that clarifies rela-
tions and provides habitable space.19
When Lewis posits what he refers to as mere Christianity, that is, basic
and shared Christianity, he is not proposing an essence in the way that fun-
damentalist or radical reinterpreters of Christianity do, as a core of central,
identity-granting ideas. A Christian world is not Christian by virtue of some
tenets that the person who inhabits it tries to impose on it. The tenets are rec-
ognizable extrapolations drawn from a Christian world or are templates for
testing what is right about the world and a persons place and role in it. Christ-
ian identity is not first of all a way of being different or a matter of adhering to
certain beliefs or doctrines. It is a way of being in the world or having a certain
sense of the world, a sense that for Lewis is marked, above all, not by estrange-
ment or opposition but, rather, by incorporation and relationships, by feeling
at home.
The metaphor of Christianity as a large and complex house also serves to
accommodate the variety within Christian practices and beliefs. Differing
Christians can be seen as furnishing and inhabiting the many rooms of the
house, a house that allows diversity amidst an inclusive wholeness. Some of
these rooms may seem quite strange or even discomforting to a particular
h ou se s 63
Christian who feels far more at home in some other part of the house. It is not
too much to add that in some ways other religions, too, can be thought of as
having their places within that house as antechambers and vestibules.20
Finally, it is not too much to say that the whole world is in the house as
much as the house is in the world. Christianity as an account of the world and
of our place in it is not limited to specifically Christian doctrines. It also com-
prises broader affirmations concerning the nature of things and our comport-
ment among them that Christians share with people of other religions. As one
can feel at home in the world articulated by Christianity, so one can feel at
home in a world shared by diverse people and cultures. Its size and complexity
make the world in which the Christian lives unexpected and at times frighten-
ing. Christianitys anfractuosity21 has its counterparts both in the sort of sur-
prising parts of a large house that constitute exceptions to an overall symmetry
and in the admixture within our world of what is familiar and what surprises.
Moderns have debarred themselves from being at home in the universe
by defining their own history as a disinheritance. Moderns think their world
has been transformed from something within which humans formerly had a
place into something that is contrary to human interests and needs, a hostile
Waste Landinhabited by hollow men.Increasingly isolated from their en-
vironment, moderns feel homeless in the world. As a consequence, the
houses that they build or buy for themselves are mere possessions without
larger significance, except to the extent that their identities become synony-
mous with their possessions. Houses as commodities, no less than the per-
sonal identities that living in such commodities confirms, stand as radical al-
ternatives to living in a world as though in a house. Outside their own houses
and the identities warranted by them, modern people find themselves on cold
and inhospitable terrain both socially and cosmically. Just so, the tastes, opin-
ions, and beliefs that modern people have are treated as possessions that grant
identity rather than responses and accesses to a large, inviting, and complex
world outside themselves. Christianity, if offered to people with such modern
habits, will become, as it often has, merely another possession and form of
self-identity. It is crucial to see that Lewis, by likening Christian beliefs and
practices to living in a house, is countering the modern uses of houses and re-
ligion as possessions and self-articulations.
Because the world that moderns construct and imagine themselves living
in is inadequate to their need for significance and their orientation to possibil-
ity, it allows vague and frustrated desires to haunt their lives. People satisfy the
desire to feel at home in the world by accumulating property, joining one
group after another, leaving their television sets on most of the day, or pursu-

ing now this and now that fad. But quest for the new and different, even when
it takes an outwardly religious form, cannot satisfy the need.What people re-
ally desire is not to gather the world to themselves, to possess it.What they de-
sire, as Till We Have Faces makes clear, is to be invited into it, accommodated
within it, and oriented to the future significance that the exploration of a
house suggests. Moderns think that Christianity imposes confinements and
that rejecting Christianity allows one to move out into a larger world. But the
world they enter is either strange and cold or it is confining because it is
owned or subjected to self-directed goals.
While most moderns flee from a world grown cold and hostile into the
comforts of their own, self-affirming abodeswhether actual houses or some
set of identity-confirming ideas or practicessome also flee into the church
as an alternative world. Supportive and symptomatic of this move are theolo-
gies that identify Christian doctrine and practice as confined and relevant to a
specific setting or community.22 These theologies either imply or aggressively
prosecute an oppositional relation between Christian identity, language, and
practices and those of the surrounding culture. One provocative aspect of
Lewiss work, in the face of this major trend in contemporary Christian theol-
ogy, is that he refuses, despite the negative currents of modern culture and the
trauma and devastation of wars, to turn the larger world into hostile terrain.
Where others want to place the church, Lewis places the house of the world
structured by Christian beliefs, filled in by a viable culture, and open to reality.
The two locations are very different; a deployment of Lewis in the contempo-
rary situation cannot involve the identification of his house of culture with a
house defined as an alien church, isolated from the rest of the world.
IV
Lewiss use of housing as a metaphor for an adequate sense of the world and of
ones relations to and within it, like the work of Gaston Bachelard, which I
have used to help explicate Lewis, depends heavily on certain social and eco-
nomic conditions. Not everyone lives in a house with a basement, an attic,
many rooms, and intriguing nooks and crannies. It is legitimate to complain
that Lewis assumes some childhood feelings to be natural and universal that
are actually culture and class specific. He grew up not only in large domestic
spaces that were available for exploration but also in places crowded with
books. His vision of house as a metaphor for culture and for the textuality of
the world is a part of his particular upbringing. The cultural capital of his fam-
ily seems to have dictated his imaginative play and his curiosity about the
h ou se s 65
wider explorations available to him in the books that walled his home. Are
Lewiss uses of housing as setting and metaphor and of being at home in the
world wholly subverted by their dependence on his particular social and eco-
nomic conditions? Do they constitute an ideology that normalizes class status
by joining a normative feeling about the culture, the cosmos, and a persons
place within them to a privileged cultural and economic standing?
Here is one of many points where it becomes clear that Lewiss work can-
not be taken uncritically and redeployed. The questions raised by his use of a
certain kind of house as a metaphor for being in the world should not be
lightly dismissed. However, I also think that the sense of place and space that is
advocated by his work and, particularly, the sense of being in the world as like
living in a house commends itself strongly. It does so particularly to readers
who have grown indifferent to places and to space, who are highly mobile,
who treat places as commodities or conveniences, and who look at their envi-
ronments primarily as resources to be dominated or exploited.
Damaging attitudes toward place and space are epitomized in the de-
meanor and language of Weston and Devine as they encounter the world of
Malachandra in Out of the Silent Planet. Whether intellectually (Weston) or
materially (Devine), their interest is to dominate. Rather than adjust to a new
and larger world, they subject what they encounter to the interests that they
brought with them from earth. Their attitudes are contrary to the sense of
place and space that for Lewis is necessary to feeling incorporated by means of
Christian faith within a world larger and more important than ones own
world or ones self.
The challenge is to find ways of talking about human place relations that
will not covertly posit the authority of a particular social class. Pierre Bour-
dieus ideas about how people create homelike places reflecting their values
can help us arrive at a less class-specific understanding of domestic space.23 It
may then become possible to say that children will make something signifi-
cant of the places in which they find themselves, however different they may
be from the houses that Lewis had in mind. Lest this become a way of con-
doning the conditions of deprivation in which many, perhaps most, of the
worlds children grow up, it must be emphasized that children need better
housing not just for their physical well-being but also for the well-being of
their spirits.
The feeling of being at home is not confined to a house but can occur as
part of other place relations. Lewis also associates a sense of incorporation in a
larger world with landscapes and open vistas. This is basic, for example, to

Lewiss description of the experience of joy in Surprised by Joy, to Ransoms
sense of inclusion within and exploration of other planetary worlds, and to
the inclusion in and exploration of Narnia by the children who are sum-
moned there.
Just as important for Lewis as a sense of being drawn in by or at home in
open landscapes is the feeling of inclusion by or of being at home in social
space. Perhaps his fullest depiction of accommodating and stimulating social
space is found in Out of the Silent Planet. The society that Ransom encounters
on Malachandra is one that has entered the last stages of its existence, but this
is due not to its evil, since there has been no Fallon Malachandra, but to age.
Indeed, Ransom uses the society as a model because, in contrast to it, he be-
comes newly aware of the distortions and evils of earthly societies.What he
finds is a complex social space comprising three types of creatures who have
differing gifts and interests and who work or have their place in the whole of
the society in ways appropriate to their strengths. The three groups are re-
spectful and affectionate toward one another, although individuals of each
kind have strong ties with their own kind and treat others somewhat at a dis-
tance and with some lightheartedness. The three kinds of creatures depend on
one another and respect the contribution that each makes to the whole. Social
space on Malachandra also has not dominated or distorted natural space; it is
difficult for Ransom to decide where the landscape has been altered by the
Malachandrans and where it is natural. All the members of the society live at
peace with one another because they are not in competition. They think of
the whole society as much as they think of their own group or of themselves.
Their peaceful ways allow them to experience much more continuity than
modern Westerners feel between their social relations and their personal or
intimate relations. This means that Malachandrans require less from their inti-
mate relations. In addition, they have a firm sense of continuity, along with
difference, between themselves and nontalking creatures on one side and an-
gelic creatures, the eldila, on the other. Finally, they do not make sharp dis-
tinctions between religious, aesthetic, and practical interests. The island of
Meldilorn is a cultural as well as a religious center.
Ransom feels at home in the social space of Malachandra, and he recog-
nizes that societies on earth are marked by opposition and exploitation. How-
ever, while feeling accepted by the society, Ransom does not minimize the dif-
ferences between himself and his hosts and does not try to remain on
Malachandra with them.While he does not theorize as to how earthly societies
could be brought into greater similarity to the social space of Malachandra, he
h ou se s 67
seems to recognize that the three kinds of creatures that constitute the society
of Malachandra stand as positive contrasts to the negative relations that exist
between the three visitors from earth. Devine holds a roughly parallel position
to the pfifltriggis;Weston is a rough parallel to the sorns; and Ransom has much
in common with the hrossa. A sharp contrast appears when the relations of the
three groups of Malachandras society are compared with those of the three
visitors from earth. The comparison suggests, among other things, the cen-
tral, mediating role that could be played in rectifying earths social space by the
position and skills that Ransom represents. Like the hrossa, the philologist
stands between those who work with physical material and the intellectuals of
the society, mediating the distance between them. That mediating position is
analogous, as we shall see later, to the role of the heart or chest in Lewiss
anthropology. The part of human life that mediates between physical drives
and the mind parallels the role of the hrossa in the social structure of Mala-
chandra. Ransoms attention to and appreciation of Malachandran society
reveal the possibility, in Lewiss understanding of human spatiality, of feeling
at home not only in intimate and vast spaces but also in diverse but structured
social space.
A social space that seems for Lewis to stand constantly in a negative rela-
tion to the possibility of feeling at home is the city, particularly London. He
seems to have found little positive place for London in his spatial evalua-
tions.24 For example, in The Magicians Nephew Digory lives in London, but
he thinks of it as a beastly Hole; he is from the countryside and much
prefers it.25 Digorys adventures and explorations are not in the city at all but
in the attics of the house in which he is living and in other worlds. Later we
learn that the cabby is also from the country and that while living there he
sang in the church choir, something that he does not do in London. His
horse, Strawberry, also from the countryside, thinks of London as a hard,
cruel country.26
It is not clear why London is for Lewis a negative social space, indeed, an
almost evil place. Despite their many common interests and values, he differed
with Charles Williams on this point: Williams was a Londoner of the Lon-
doners; Johnson and Chesterton never exalted more than he in their citizen-
ship. On many of us the prevailing impression made by the London streets
is one of chaos; but Williams, looking on the same spectacle, saw chiefly an
imagean imperfect, pathetic, heroic, and majestic imageof order.27 In
The Great Divorce, hell is a city, while heaven is not, even though in the New
Testament the eternal space is projected as urban (Revelation 21:2, for exam-

ple). Perhaps Lewis connected with the view of urban space expressed in
Joseph Conrads The Secret Agent. Conrad depicts London in a resolutely nega-
tive way. The principal characteristic of London in Conrads novel is that au-
thority and power have taken on an almost wholly bureaucratic form. Bu-
reaucracy, as we have seen, is the typical form of authority and power in the
modern world, and it is tied by Max Weber very closely to modern Rational-
ism and to the disenchantment of the world.28 Lewis relates bureaucracy to
the structures and power of evil. It is not at all surprising, then, that the sinister
characteristics of the academic and political world that form much of the set-
ting in That Hideous Strength are also bureaucratic, and that the authority
structure of N.I.C.E., like that of hell in The Screwtape Letters, has an explicitly
bureaucratic shape. This also suggests, one could conclude, why Oxford and
Cambridge do not stand for Lewis as celestial counterparts to the hellish social
space of London.
If London and Oxbridge cannot stand for Lewis as normative contraries
to stabilize spatial evaluations, we cannot conclude that other locations do.
While Lewis affirms the importance of social spaces that accommodate and
stimulate the potentials of persons and grant to persons a sense of being at
home, he offers no realistic models of social space equivalent to those he gives
for personal spaces and open landscapes. We might say that he anchors the
evaluation of social spaces in his work not by Oxbridge and London but by
hell and heaven.While the importance of these locations for Lewis should
not be overemphasized (he does not think, as we saw earlier, that one becomes
a Christian in order to gain the one and avoid the other), they stand like logi-
cal extensions of social spaces in which we find ourselves in this world. They
appear to operate for him as stabilizing and normative social spaces. London,
however negatively described, and even N.I.C.E. are not as bureaucratic and
not as evil as the dominion of the Father Below in The Screwtape Letters.
Although Lewis relies on the ultimate, spatially stabilizing locations of
hell and heaven, he seems not to need the anchoring that an ultimate begin-
ning and ending, Creation and Final Judgment, would give to history. His
generally evolutionist ideas of time are less dissonant with those of the domi-
nant culture than are his spatial theories and beliefs. He writes, for example,
With Darwinism as a theorem in Biology I do not think a Christian need
have any quarrel.29 He seems tacitly to agree that it is not disruptive to tem-
poral orientation to be uncertain as to a precise beginning and ending. This
means that Lewis is able to move, as late modernism or postmodernism do, to
a more spatial rather than a more temporal way of articulating location. He
h ou se s 69
also avoids the kinds of uncritical orientations toward space that mark so
much of modernist and postmodernist spatial theory. Because Lewis locates
his spatial preoccupations between the ultimate value contrasts of heaven and
hell he is free to affirm and to criticize various locations as more or less
conducive to the possibilities of feeling at home. Places that are accommodat-
ing, outwardly directing, and humanly inclusive invoke heaven. Places that
are alienating, reductive, abstracted, and self-oriented direct attention to and
find their consummation in hell.
Feeling at home, whether in intimate places such as ones house, in social
groups, such as with friends and colleagues, or on open terrain, directs a per-
son toward the home that only can be projected as fully available in heaven.
What that means above all, it seems to me, is that the feeling of being at home
is the feeling of a new self being born. Heaven is not for Lewis a continuation
of states of comfort as we know them but, rather, the culmination of the
process by which human beings exchange a self they construct and own for a
self that is given them. One receives a self, in other words, only and finally
when one feels welcomed as though into a home.
Americans inherit several tropes that allow them to live in the world as
though in a house. The sense of this country as a refuge, as a new home for
people by which, as the words of Emma Lazaruss The New Colossus en-
graved on the base of the Statue of Liberty suggest, they are gathered in, espe-
cially people who have been rendered homeless or disenfranchised by perse-
cution or poverty, was a strong invitation to emigration. The exploration of
the West was also an irresistibly enticing project that inspired the imagination
and enlarged the spirit, however much it was also a venture defined by eco-
nomic and political interests. John Sears has pointed out that many natural lo-
cations in this country, such as Niagara Falls and Mammoth Cave, became
pilgrimage sites because they were thought of as edifying buildings, cathe-
drals that, unlike their European counterparts, had the distinction of having
had God as their architect and builder.30 But increasingly Americans think of
spaces and places as resources to exploit, property to own, or in other ways as
occasions for and evidences of their own identities and power. The American
quest for physical security, personal power, and psychological comfort has
soured the sense of living in the world as though in a house, and houses have
become signs of the self s substitute of a place of individual pride for a space
that is shared. This means that heaven, too, for most American Christians
very likely becomes a place of self-fulfillment and self-congratulation. The
dwelling placespromised by Jesus in the Gospel of John will likely sound to
American ears like the dream houses of a gatedsuburban development.

We shall have to ask whether or not we have available to us a culture that
will still structure and support a sense of ourselves in the world that resembles
living as though in a house. Are there rudimentary, sharable, and flexible out-
lines of a space that we can both personally and collectively affirm, that con-
tains us and helps to actualize our potentials as individuals, groups, and a peo-
ple engaged, in at least some significant respects, in a common enterprise?
However daunting it may be, that is a question to which at the end we shall
have to return.
h ou se s 71
4

CULTURE
Lewis believed that religion, especially Christianity, allows people to give an

account of the world that is more adequate than accounts sponsored by secu-
lar attitudes and norms.We should look now at what he means by an account
of the world.We should see, first of all, that Lewis gives culture a crucial role
in the formation of such an account, and we should ask why he does that.
Lewis implies that an account of the world has three distinguishable but
inseparable components. At one end, so to speak, there are our encounters
with events, things, and people and our awareness of them that comes under
the heading of reality and our experience of it. An account of the world re-
sponds to and illumines our experience of reality. At the other end are the
stable beliefs and norms that give structure and continuity to an account of
the world. An account of the world brings beliefs and norms into relation
with experiences of reality. This relation, for Lewis, is mediated. The mid-
dle, mediating factor in an account of the world is culture. Lewis gives a great
deal of attention to culture. He does so not only because it is a crucial factor
in giving an account of the world but also because the nature and role of cul-
ture were, he believed, being neglected and even damaged by the attitudes of
people in his own day, attitudes, I would add, that continue in our own time.
By placing a chapter on culture between what we have been considering thus
far and what lies ahead, then, I am trying to make graphic the centrality in
Lewiss work of the nature and function of culture in a Christian account of
the world.
73
Culture stands between our experiences of reality and the structuring
principles of belief, and culture is the means by which a Christian account of
the world is fleshed out in particular locations and times. Christian accounts of
the world, therefore, vary. Lewis would agree with Kathryn Tanner that,
What it means to be a Christian should not look the same from one cultural
context to another. . . . One lives a Christian life differently depending on the
cultural materials with which one has to work and the challenges to the Chris-
tian faith specific to that context.1 As Lewis himself says,Though we ought
to imitate the procedure of Christ and His saints this pattern has to be adapted
to the changing conditions of history.2 One can see embedded in this state-
ment of Lewis the three components of a Christian account: the patternat
one end, the changing conditions of history at the other, and, between
them, the adaptationculture, that isplaying its mediating role.
Lewiss view that culture is indispensable to relating norms and beliefs to
experience and reality implies an alternative to the knowledge and revela-
tionor nature and gracequestion, as this issue traditionally has been identi-
fied.3 Lewis posits, without explicating or defending his position, a dynamic
interaction of challenge and confirmation between three, rather than two,
parties in the formation of a Christian account. It is not that one of the three
determines or interprets the others. The three clarify, validate and challenge
one another. A Christian account of things, while basically affirming conti-
nuity between the three, does not always succeed in articulating that continu-
ity, and it does not establish the reasons for that continuity as a separate doc-
trine of faith.
Lewis seems to support his belief in the central role of culture as mediator
between religious beliefs and everyday life from his understanding of me-
dieval thought. He makes the point that the medievals, under the influence of
Plato, tended to think that it was not possible to join two things together
without a third to mediate their relation to one another. This is why, he ar-
gues, they were always building bridges.The medievals are always supplying
bridges, third things, between reason and appetite, soul and body, king and
common.4 Lewis is fascinated by the prevalence of these triadic structures in
medieval thought.
Lewiss view of culture as a mediator between reality and belief also seems
influenced by the deeply rooted relations of English culture to Christianity.
The challenge is to restore the openness of English culture to, even its de-
pendence on, moral and spiritual belief and desire. He sees the influence of
English literary culture to be rapidly eroding.While it may be attentive to re-
ality and human experience, it tends to marginalize moral and spiritual needs

and beliefs. This neglect means that literary culture is losing its central, medi-
ating role in the formation of English life.
While Lewis may give culture such a central role because English literary
culture is deeply implicated with Christian beliefs and forms of Christian liv-
ing, his position also has a basis in what he believes cultures actually do. If it is
the case that English culture is beginning to give up its relation to the moral
and religious life of people, it is becoming not only different from English cul-
tures of the past but also different from non-Western cultures of the present.
Other cultures retain their moral and spiritual content, he observes. If mod-
ern English culture continues to lose its relation to moral and spiritual beliefs
and norms, it eventually will not be a culture at all.
Lewis assumes an interdependent relation between religion and culture.
Religion requires a viable culture, if it is to be fleshed out, and culture re-
quires religion for its completion, if it is not to be limited to one side of its
mediating position, namely, relating people to what can be taken as reality.
Cultures central, mediating role is lost if it is closed to either side, either to re-
ality or to religious belief. Indeed, if either side is closed, culture becomes
distorted and distorts.
The growing separation, even antagonism, between English culture and
religious belief consequently threatens both religion and culture. Indeed, to
the degree that this separation already has occurred, the culture functions in-
creasingly as no culture at all. Religion, meanwhile, falls into disrepair either
by being conformed to the reduced culture around it or by becoming abstract
and irrelevant to its present context. The problem that this creates is grave. For
Lewis it becomes very difficult to advocate a Christian account of things in
the absence of an adequate or viable culture. Christianity can provide the
structuring principles for an account of the world and can add some crucial,
unique items to it, but it cannot itself provide a culture. The first task for re-
viving the prospects of a contemporary Christian account of the world and of
our places in it, then, is to locate and amend those aspects of modern culture
that close it to and separate it from religious belief.As Paul Holmer put it,It is
as if there are plain, primary, first-order ways of thinking and speaking that
have to be restored to people before they can make any sense of the Christian
literature.5
It is important to keep in mind that when Lewis addresses the problem of
culture he does not separate high and popular culture from one another.
There are for him differing levels of sophistication and learning, and those
levels should not be underestimated or subverted, but there are continuities
between them. He points out, for example, that a childs story ought to be one
c ulture 75
that an adult could read with profit and pleasure.6 Culture both accommo-
dates differences and clarifies commonalities, and it cannot become either a
way by which some people separate themselves from others or a way by which
people become indistinguishable from one another.
The task of addressing the question of modern culture and the relation of
Christianity to it is problematic enough, but Lewis recognizes an additional
hazard. It is difficult to address the question of ones culture without destroy-
ing by that very attention what culture actually is or should be. Culture is not
primarily a conscious product of construction or an object of attention. Any
attempt consciously to address, restore, or alter culture carries inherent risks.
Lewis recognizes this problem because of his more general point that ordinary,
daily living has primacy in relation to conscious awareness. Human living suf-
fers when it is subjected to conscious control, and consciousness can assume
primacy only in unusual circumstances. As we shall see, the seat of culture in a
person is not consciousness but the heart or chest.So also, the moral content
of culture is not identical with conscious concern for and construction of cul-
ture. Those who hold that it is are people who live in a disenchanted world, a
world that privileges consciousness. Culture is, rather, an ongoing, one could
say living, context and medium of communal or shared life.7 Lewis suggests
that it is characteristic of modern culture not only to give primacy to con-
sciousness but also to assume that culture is a conscious construction.
Lewis does not share, then, in the work of some of his contemporaries
who, concerned about the plight of modern culture, became its self-appointed
creators and guardians. For him, when culture becomes a focus of conscious
intention it will inevitably become an extension of private interests. The re-
sulting culture will be one that supports what its advocates take to be impor-
tant. As Lionel Adey observes, Lewis, especially in his essay Lilies that Fester,
derided the concern for culture that Leavis and Eliot had inherited from
Arnold.8 While Lewis shares the judgment that modern culture presents seri-
ous problems, he does not join those who distinguish themselves from and
elevate themselves above others in the attempt to rectify them.
Lewis has the same reservations concerning self-consciousness when it
comes to religion. Self-conscious religion is no less problematic than self-
conscious culture. As he says,A faith in cultureis as bad as a faith in religion;
both expressions imply a turning away from those very things which culture
and religion are about.9 Indeed, the three components of a Christian account
of things reality, culture, and core Christian beliefs and normsare not ei-
ther in themselves or in their relations consequences of conscious construc-
tion. A fortiori they are not bases of separation and group- or self-elevation.

Self-consciousness keeps culture from doing what needs, above all else, to
be done. Cultures essential role is leading people to recognize things outside
themselves and beyond their own interests as of great, if not primary, value. A
healthy culture will allow entities and events, especially human beings and
their actions, to point to some larger end. Culture, if it is what it should be,
counters self-centeredness, self-interest, and even self-consciousness.When
culture becomes the object of conscious interest, it becomes subjected to the
self and thereby dissolves.
We can now see one of the bases for the interrelations that Lewis assumes
between reality, culture, and religion. All three can and should direct the at-
tention of a person outward, leading a person to recognize that there are
things outside the self that are more important. The mediating role of culture
is crucial; if people are led by their culture to be self-centered, they will take
that habit into the way they understand religion and all of reality.
Lewis implies, therefore, that an unhealthy culture contaminates religion.
People who relate to their world in terms of a culture that makes them self-
centered will find either that Christianity makes no sense at all or that it offers
another way of giving power and importance to the self. So, in hell, which for
Lewis stands as the culmination of the cultural distortions and evils that we see
now around us, Screwtape fails to understand what The Enemyis up to and
reads what The Enemy does as an expression of self-interest. As Screwtape
misunderstands the attitudes and actions of divine grace, so people affected by
the turn of modern Western culture toward the authority of the self will mis-
interpret and misappropriate religion.10 Both culture and Christianity stand
in danger of becoming ways by which people count themselves as different
from and superior to others, ways by which persons talk more highly about
themselves than they otherwise would be able to.
I
Lewis is critical of his culture not only because it fails to point beyond itself to
religious norms and beliefs but also because, at the other end, it fails to relate
people adequately to reality.While modern culture appears to be attentive to
reality and our experiences of it, it fails, Lewis thinks, to validate actual rela-
tions with reality. It fails because it has broken experiences of events and enti-
ties into separate, unrelated components, objective facts and subjective under-
standings and evaluations of them. In addition, it has encouraged people to
focus on themselves as distinct and independent. Modern culture, therefore,
encourages self-centeredness in people. As Lewis says,It is impossible, in this
c ulture 77
context, not to inquire what our civilization has been putting first for the last
thirty years. And the answer is plain. It has been putting itself first.11 Modern
culture does this by positing human beings as basically unrelated to anything
or anyone outside themselves.
A culture that functions properly militates against self-centeredness by di-
recting the attention of people to things outside and beyond themselves that
are there before they arrive, into which they are educated as participants, and
that are more important than their own interests.Widespread self-centered-
ness is a sign that modern culture has not functioned as a culture, since a pri-
mary consequence of culture is to direct attention outward.
A second major doctrine of modern culture, one that Lewis sees as a cor-
relate to the doctrine of individual autonomy, is materialism, the belief that
only that to which the senses grant access is real. Materialism has both a refined,
philosophical form and a vulgar, commercial form. The two, while very differ-
ent in their locations and roles, support one another, primarily in that a general
air of philosophical materialism legitimizes in subtle but powerful ways vulgar
or commercial materialism. The two produce similar results: they sever the re-
lation of material reality and sensory experiences from our evaluations of them.
Evaluations are secondary, are add-ons to reality and our experience of it.
Lewis sees these two doctrines of modern culture as abetting one an-
other. They are doctrines attached to the opposing walls of the canyon
opened up by the cultural separation of objective and subjective or fact and
value from one another. Under the influence of materialism all matters of
value and meaning are relegated to private status. Materialism, having gar-
nered the real, implicitly relegates value and meaning to internal locations.
Individual selves become not only the sources of value but themselves the
only value.Values, then, are projected onto things and, in one way or another,
are self-serving. When the primary relation of values to reality is denied or
sundered, values lose not only their groundings but also their public valence.
They easily turn into personal whims or identity articulations. Culture in this
way forfeits its relevance to shared life as well as its relation to reality.Values
that are severed from reality and are not shared will begin to appear unstable
and gratuitous. As Lewis says, Either there is significance in the whole
process of things as well as in human activity, or there is no significance in hu-
man activity itself. . . . If the world is meaningless, then so are we; if we mean
something, we do not mean alone.12 A culture separated from reality soon
begins no longer to function as a culture.
Self-centeredness and materialism aggravate and reinforce one another
and conspire to destroy culture. Reality is stripped of meaning and value, and

meaning and value, perceived as subjective, are stripped of their claims on
events and entities.13 Self-centeredness and materialism make the self the ex-
clusive source and object of value and subject the world outside the self to
brute objectivity and mere utility.
Lewis responds to this situation primarily by arguing against the assump-
tion that values are subjective. It sometimes seems that in these attacks he is ar-
guing that values are objective, as, for example, in The Abolition of Man.14
However, I think that it would be a mistake to conclude that value theory for
Lewis is primarily based on objectivism. Rather than taking a stand against
subjectivism and for objectivism, Lewis makes the case throughout his work
that a viable culture is relational, one that clarifies and corrects the internal re-
lations of people with the events and entities of reality.What he calls for is a
restoration of a sense of relatedness between internal and external, subject and
object.Value is relational. Lewis both as cultural theorist and Christian apolo-
gist is intent on rejecting a basic underpinning of modernity, namely, the as-
sumption of gaps between mind and body, subject and object, value and fact,
culture and reality.
One of the defining functions of culture is to create, define, and maintain
right relations between internal states and their external counterparts. Conse-
quently, the two major characteristics of modernity, self-centeredness and
materialism, depend upon and confirm a separation that is not, and cannot be,
true.When culture fails to retain the relations between internal and external
or between meaning or value and entities or events, both are distorted. Lewiss
principal aim is not to argue against subjectivism and for objectivism. Rather,
he argues for the primary relation that exists between peoples beliefs and val-
ues and the entities and events that constitute reality, a relation that always al-
ready exists because of culture.
One way in which Lewis argues against the subject/object split is by ref-
erence to the Romantics, particularly to their interest in the sublime. The ex-
perience of the sublime, as it features in Romantic theory, constitutes a mo-
ment, Lewis believes, in which one cannot separate an event or object from
the human evaluation of it. Moments of the sublime become for him norma-
tive for reaffirming culture as that within which appropriate relations between
entities or events and our sense of their importance and value are maintained
and inculcated.15 For all his interest in medieval and Renaissance cultures,
Lewiss reference point is not so much the premodern period as the Roman-
tics. For Lewis, the principal turn of or break in culture was not in the
sixteenth century but in the nineteenth.16 The main characteristic of this
break is the erosion of culturally sustained relations between things or events
c ulture 79
and the responses of people to them and a final separation of these two factors.
For more than a century, Lewis believes, modern culture, rather than do its
proper work, has sponsored the separation of entities and events from our
shared sense of their significance and value. This makes modern culture
unique, an anomaly, among human cultures. Other cultures and Western cul-
ture until quite recently assume that there is a relation between people and the
events and entities around them. The culture maintains, clarifies, and chal-
lenges those relations.
Since it is the proper purpose of culture to confirm the relations of peo-
ple to what stands or occurs outside them, it becomes possible to see that
modern educators and representatives of modern culture actually oppose cul-
ture. Modernity assumes that culture itself is dispensable or at best optional.
This assumption is supported by the belief that when people are free from val-
ues they can see things as they actually are and make judgments about them
that are true. This belief, which is basic to scientific interests and methods, has
become definitive of modernity. The educational goal of dissociating entities
and events from our responses to them is defended because it appears to create
people who are free, who are not under the authority of preexisting assump-
tions about relations between things and their significance. The attack on al-
ready existing relations between facts and values is defended as creating a situ-
ation in which people can make up their own minds, can ascribe their own
values to things rather than be subjected to those of others. Lewis objects to
this because it subjects culture to consciousness, disenchants the world, and
warrants the centrality of the self.
Lewiss response to the reasoning behind these educational theories is
complex. He seems to see the claim that one can examine something more
accurately when it is divorced from feeling and value as a strategy appropriate
to some kinds of study, especially science.17 Indeed, the rapid pace of ad-
vancement in scientific knowledge and the reliability of that knowledge are
dependent upon this strategy. But when that act of suspension becomes not
simply a particular strategy but a general attitude toward the world, it has
damaging results. Scientific knowledge and its technological fruits are so im-
pressive and, indeed, so definitive of modernity that the methods basic to
them are carried into the culture, attached to and validated by their striking
and powerful results. The illusion is created that moderns are people who,
unlike people in other or former cultures, stand in no real, culturally stabi-
lized value relations with the entities and events of their world. The illusion is
created that people are therefore free to make of the world anything that fits
their purposes.

Lewis more fully rejects the other rationale for dismissing culture, namely,
that by so doing individuals become free from the tyranny of othersopinions
and are able to choose values for themselves. It may seem credible that, in the
classroom, severing the ties between entities or events and their values frees
children from the sway of dogmatism and enables them to make up their own
minds. But the notion of freedom implied by such a program is without con-
tent or direction. Children trained in such an environment are more and not
less subject to authority and its manipulations because teachers do not have to
acknowledge that they are working within a structure of assumptions, values,
and interests. Teachers can pretend that they are simply presenting things as
they really are.When value-free facts are secured, the truth question presum-
ably has also been settled.Values are then relegated to a secondary position dis-
sociated from the primary quest for truth. In addition, if teachers do not have
to acknowledge the values they bring into the classroom, they can impose
their beliefs undetected and unrestrained. When culture and education are
separated from the sense of shared values and when teachers and students do
not stand under a set of shared rules, power becomes the principal, indeed the
only, factor. This is why Lewis can argue, in The Abolition of Man, that an edu-
cation that divorces people from nature in order to exert power over nature
easily turns into the exercise of power by some people over others or by a few
over the many. For, as he says, the power of man to make himself what he
pleases means . . . the power of some men to make other men what they
please.18 In addition,mans power over Nature turns out to be a power exer-
cised by some men over other men with Nature as its instrument.19 The at-
tempt to let children develop their own values and to dissociate value from en-
tities and events dissolves culture and produces relations based only on power.
This means that those with great power simply dominate those with less, since
they have no other basis for relation with them.
II
Lewis locates the deficiencies of culture on both ends or sides. It fails to point
to religious beliefs and norms, and it fails to relate people to reality. Lewis
wants to retrieve and affirm English culture as a stabilizing and unifying order
of shared knowledge, values, and judgments. A viable culture is related at one
end to religious beliefs and norms that it both supports and challenges and,
at the other, to reality that it both defers to and determines. A viable culture
gives rise to public discourses that house the institutions of society
its schools and research centers, its commercial and economic interests, its
c ulture 81
political structuresin a shared context. This context prosecutes and ques-
tions what is best for human life. Culture, in other words, is a form of shared
social identity, whose role is roughly analogous to that of character in the life
of a person. It provides continuity and stability as well as large degrees of di-
versity and change.
The first question that arises is whether such an understanding of culture
can stand up today, that is, in an academic situation that has been so shaped by
theorists who subordinate culture to social, economic, and political dynamics
and structures. For example, is it not the case that culture, as a shared world
of discourse, serves an immoral purpose, namely, to conceal differences that it
is in the interest of some people, particularly those in positions of privilege, to
keep hidden? Lewis seems to think that people of greatly different positions in
English society can feel included within a common set of values and have a
shared way of discussing them. People can be related by recognizing values
that precede or transcend individual and group interests. He seems to have in
mind a context that allows for meaningful relations, for example, between
homeowners and their cooks and gardeners, such as existed at his home, the
Kilns. The question arises as to whether a view of culture as a kind of house in
which people with unequal resources share a common life too easily discounts
social and economic differences, concealing hurtful injustices.
In my opinion, Lewis was not as aware of this issue as he ought to have
been.We can say, however, that cultural theory may err in placing too much
stress on the differences between people. The reason for this overemphasis is
that current cultural theory rests on the assumption that human beings are ba-
sically in states of separation and potential conflict with one another. If one so
believesand it is a beliefthen anything that suggests continuity and rela-
tions between people is bound to be judged incompatible with reality.
The suspicion that affirmations of cultural commonality conceal injus-
tices does not necessarily arise, therefore, only from a desire for greater social,
political, and economic equality. It depends as well on the belief that humans
are basically pitted against one another in a deadly zero-sum game. This belief
subjects culture to the struggle for power and to conscious control. The belief
can become self-validating. It creates and aggravates differences and conflicts
because it assumes that they are always already there, forming the inevitable,
perhaps natural, ground for human identity and relationships. Lewis is not
willing to concede that belief, and his resistance has merit.While Lewis could
hardly be cited as a champion of social and economic justice, I would agree
with him that the quest for justice need not depend on a theory that posits dif-
ference and conflict as basic to the relations of people to one another.

Lewiss stress on the shared should be treated cautiously, but it holds no
more potential harm than its opposite, the stress on difference. For every in-
stance in which the disclosure of concealed difference serves the cause of jus-
tice, an instance could, perhaps, be cited in which human well-being would
be advanced by uncovering some shared value which would enable the dis-
cussion of differences and perhaps the redressing of wrongs. Lewis recognized
the most fruitful assessment to be one in which an admixture of the shared and
the differing is recognized. The trouble is that there is no way to predict what
will constitute the shared and the differing or how much of either there will
be. One must simply assume that both are present.
Furthermore, an emphasis on culture as something shared need not sug-
gest that what is shared is necessarily good or unchangeable. The suspicion
that marks current cultural theory may be a reaction to an overemphasis on
culture as stabilizing and warranting the status quo. But Lewis is as aware of
culture as the means by which norms in a society change as he is of how cul-
ture creates order and maintains continuity. Although conditions after the
First World War, when he developed his theory of culture, seemed to call for a
stress on continuity and stability, Lewis allows ample room for change.What
in The Abolition of Man he calls the Tao,that is, the specifically moral content
of human culture, changes. And if the specifically moral content of culture
changes, it follows, a fortiori, that for Lewis changes can occur in other aspects
of culture as well.20 Values endure, but they are not eternal. Culture does not
only allow for change; it calls for change by virtue of the mediating role it
plays between beliefs and various, changing life situations. Continuity and
change are both part of culture.
Lewis understands culture as not only carrying forward values but also
providing the terms by which disagreements about values can be aired and re-
solved and by which particular configurations of values can be formed. In The
Abolition of Man he implies that in the absence of culture, or when culture is
devalued, there is less difference of opinion about values and less diversity of
value configuration. In the absence of shared values, the values of some peo-
ple are imposed on others by force. This, Lewis believes, is precisely what is
happening in English education; and the construction of a value-free envi-
ronment results not in education but in social conditioning.21
A second question suggested by Lewiss interest in and conception of cul-
ture is whether, by creating commonality within a complex society, such as
that of England, the common culture does not inevitably repress local cul-
tures. Although Lewis does not disparage local cultures and traditions, it is im-
possible not to privilege standard culture when one focuses on the need for
c ulture 83
shared values in public life. This is another question that Lewis does not suffi-
ciently address. His implied answer is that in theory there should be no con-
flict between what is of human value in local cultures and what is of impor-
tance for a culture shared by the entire society.
Lewis does not recognize the force of this question because he does not
take sufficiently into account that cultures are attached to and generate
power.22 It is possible, perhaps even inevitable, that the culture of people with
less political and economic power will be suppressed or absorbed by the cul-
ture of those with more. This occurs not only in the relation of common
English culture to local cultures in England but also in its relation to cultures
in weaker or developing countries. The kind of inclusive culture that Lewis
favors sets him apart from such literary people among his contemporaries as
Thomas Hardy and D. H. Lawrence, who championed local cultures. It stands
under judgment, as well, from the ample evidence that English culture was
forcefully imposed on the subjects of colonial rule.
Lewis would reply, I think, that the larger culture that some of his con-
temporaries resisted in the name of local cultures and the Western culture crit-
icized by historians of imperialism and postcolonial theorists is radically defi-
cient or is even no culture at all. It is modernity with all its abstractions,
reductions, and suppressions. Modernity, for Lewis, is not only defective; it
largely militates against viable culture. The mark of a viable culture would be
the value it placed on, and the continuity it would have with, other cultures,
both local and distant. The suppression of other cultures is not the work of a
true culture but rather of power divested of culture. For Lewis, culture by def-
inition arises from, nurtures, and corrects relations between people, and it fol-
lows that it does not suppress other cultures. Lewis maintains, in his appendix
to The Abolition of Man, that the values of English culture find counterparts in
other cultures. He does this not to discount the integrity of those other cul-
tures but to recognize their health. There is no reason to assume that he would
think differently about the relation of a shared English culture to the particu-
lar local cultures of England.
The third question to ask about Lewiss project regarding culture con-
cerns the effects of cultures broad dissemination. How can its dissemination
be distinguished from the means by which that dissemination is accom-
plished? Can an inclusive culture be thought of as separable from the means of
communication and transportation, without which it cannot be inclusive? In-
deed, is it the culture or the means of its dissemination that unifies the society?
Is a complex society unified by its railways, radios, telephone lines, and news-
papers or by what is conveyed by them? The question becomes more complex

when we bear in mind that these powerful means of communication are not
neutral with respect to meaning. The means of communication and trans-
portation determine what is conveyed. Only some kinds of messages can be
widely broadcast, and the means by which they are made available are ab-
sorbed along with the content.
Lewiss theory holds some potential to address this problem. At the heart
of his critique of modern society is his resistance to its habits of abstraction, to
modern cultures general disregard for particulars, especially for particular
people. Abstraction, because it denies primary relations, destroys culture and
creates external relations between people based on power. The means of com-
munication and transportation are forms of power, and they need to be
housed within and directed by culture. Because modernity is to a considerable
degree not a culture, modern people have become more interested in the
means of transportation and communication than in the places or information
and the wider kinds of relationships that they make available. Because people
have lost their sense of primary relations with other people and the world
around them, they have formed primary relations with secondary things, such
as the tools of communication and transportation. These tools draw attention
to themselves and to the power that they grant to people to control their
worlds. It is a measure of the cultures disease that the means of communication
determine value and even themselves become the value.When technology is
not housed and directed by a viable culture, it becomes itself a substitute cul-
ture that, rather than serve human relations, determines them.
However, I also think that this is not a problem that Lewis fully recog-
nized. He did not take adequate account of the shaping influence that modern
means of communication and transportation can and do exert on culture.
While he himself eschewed driving an automobile, for example, he did not
seem to consider the implications of having himself, toward the end of his pro-
fessional life, conveyed by car between Oxford and Cambridge. He also used
the BBC to spread his views to people in disparate local settings. And, as Walter
Hooper points out, Lewis published articles in newspapers, although he did
not himself read newspapers.23 An inclusive culture depends on the means of
its spread, and it is difficult to prevent the culture from being supplanted by
those means or the means determining what cultural content is disseminated.
The final question to be raised about his theory of culture is that the cul-
ture with which Lewis is most fully identified is difficult to distinguish from
culturein the more restricted or high sense.24 His understanding of culture
seems characterized by the difficult texts, leisure time, and prestigious institu-
tional associations to which Lewis, but by no means all in the society, had
c ulture 85
access. True, Lewis advocates (as in his preface to Screwtapes Toast appended
to The Screwtape Letters) equal access for all to the resources of high culture, but
the difficulties involved in that proposal are hardly broached.25 Meanwhile,
those with such access are able to augment their social and economic strength
with cultural capital, thereby justifying their positions of economic advantage
by tying them to custodianship over the values of English culture.
This problem loses some of its force when we distinguish between cul-
ture as that which draws the attention of people to what of value lies outside
of themselves and culture that is intentionally designed as an extension of self-
or class interests. Culture, as Lewis understands it, is an inclusive set of shared
values that arise or grow more than they are constructed and projected. This is
why Lewis was willing not only to advance culture and its criticism in the so-
cietys most prestigious centers of privilege and cultural capital but also to ad-
dress a general audience outside the confines of Oxford and Cambridge. He
may not have extended his reach into every corner of society, and he may not
have cast his net wide enough to include all economic and social levels. In-
deed, he may have been deceived about the continuity between some of his
interests and those of ordinary people. However, his work in popular genres
and his efforts to communicate effectively in all the genres he employed with
the largest possible audience place him in a mediating position between the
more and less sophisticated poles of the culture.
Lewis tried to embody in his own career, in other words, what he took to
be the central, mediating position of culture. This is not to deny that by call-
ing attention to the value of English culture Lewis at the same time advocates
values that conform to or support particular interests. But he was intent, I be-
lieve, as much as possible to avoid those dangers. He believed that culture
should militate against the tendency to call attention to self. In his dispute
with E. M.W. Tillyard, he calls this the personal heresy.Critics, he contends,
should not call attention to authors and even less should they call attention to
themselves; they should concentrate on that something else or something
more to which all can look and which it is the business of the critic to help lo-
cate and clarify.26 The promulgation of the culture must be carried on with a
lack of self-consciousness, with a sharply focused critical eye, and with an ori-
entation to what of value lies outside of particular interests.
Lewis, to my mind, does not give adequate attention to the issues identi-
fied by these four questions, and any attempt to imitate his work in our own
time and place cannot simply duplicate him. I believe, however, that these
questions do not completely discredit his understanding of the nature and role
of culture as mediating relations between beliefs or norms and reality or expe-

rience. I would say, indeed, that his project alerts us to the fact that there al-
ways are values and goals that people in a society share. The question can al-
ways be raised, then, as to whether or not they are the values and goals that
people should share. It is always an urgent matter to surface shared values, to
question their consequences, particularly for other people, and to know how
to challenge values and goals that are inadequate or potentially destructive. Fi-
nally, it is always to the point to ask critics of culture what understanding of
shared or common life is implied by their criticism. It is not only the advocates
of culture but also the critics of culture who are vulnerable to fashioning their
work in the shape of their own interests and advantages or of that group with
whom they identify.
III
Now that we have looked at culture more directly, we can ask how for Lewis it
is related to Christianity.We should see first of all that the central, mediating
position that Lewis gives to culture implies some provocative assumptions
about religion and Christianity.
The first, perhaps obvious, thing to say about the understanding of
Christianity implied by Lewiss project is that it puts him outside the circle of
Christians for whom faith and human cultures are unrelated or even opposed
to one another. Lewis sees a positive relation between Christianity and human
cultures, and that understanding implies a stronger doctrine of Creation than
is characteristic, for example, of Barthian or evangelical theological positions.
Lewis has a stout theological anthropology. He sees redemption as a strategic
and enabling intervention rather than as an intervention unconnected with
what already exists in the post-lapsarian human world.27
Having said this, it must also be stressed that while for Lewis there is con-
tinuity between Christian faith and human cultures, there is a discontinuity
between Christianity and many prominent features of modern Western cul-
ture.Although Christianity potentially has positive internal relations with hu-
man cultures, it has contrary relations with dominant characteristics of mod-
ern Western culture.
Christian faith cannot be related to modern culture to the degree that
modern culture fails to perform the principal functions of human culture.
Those functions, as we have seen, are to direct the attention of people to values
that lie outside of themselves, to establish right relations according to those
values with the entities and events of reality, and to generate and maintain
discourses by which those right relations are challenged, corrected and/or
c ulture 87
confirmed. Since modern culture largely fails to perform these functions, per-
sons conditioned by it either will be unable to understand or will distort a
Christian account of the world. A Christianity articulated and practiced by
people so conditioned is bound to contain misunderstandings and distortions.
However, the deficiencies of modern culture do not mean for Lewis that
one can reject it and do without culture altogether.A Christian account needs
human culture to occasion it and flesh it out. It needs a culture to mediate its
relation to the realities that people daily encounter. Christianity does not itself
constitute a culture. It provides basic beliefs, norms, and practices, and Chris-
tians in differing cultures and times resemble one another because of that pro-
vision. But Christians cannot live above or apart from culture any more than
they can live above or apart from the reality composed of entities and events.
People who attempt to establish Christianity as something independent
of culture are people who have been conditioned by modern cultures habits
of abstraction.
This does not mean that religion is dissolved into or dominated by cul-
ture. A viable culture is open at one end to religion as it is open on the other
end to reality. Indeed, what culture mediates, namely, religious beliefs and ex-
periences of actuality, are more important than culture. Culture must be open
to religion because without religion it will be reduced to matters at its other
end, namely, the relations of people to the events and entities of their concrete
worlds, and will eventually allow those relations to degenerate as well.While
religion generally and Christianity specifically needs culture, culture also
needs religion. Lewis is critical of culture when it fails to defer either to every-
day life or to the transcendent to which religion directs it. Religion speaks of
that to which culture points, and culture requires the completion that religion
provides.While at one end culture opens out to the sense of a reality that out-
strips culture, culture also opens, in an upward direction, so to speak, to that
which challenges, corrects, and directs human moral and spiritual beliefs, de-
sires, and potentials.
Readers who object to Lewiss position on the positive and even indis-
pensable role of culture in relation to Christianity very likely mistake the in-
compatibility between religion and prominent aspects of modern culture for
a basic incompatibility between Christianity and all human cultures. They
think that modern culture is what any human culture inevitably will become.
In other words, they accept modern cultures self-assessment. They assume
that culture is necessarily self-serving and that a religion related to it will be
self-serving, too. Lewis would agree that this is largely the case with modern
culture, and in his fiction he gives several examples of clergy and theologians

who use Christianity to further what are actually self-serving personal and
group interests. Especially in That Hideous Strength we find examples of Chris-
tians who have compromised and distorted Christianity by subjecting it to the
norms of modern culture.
Despite the negative characteristics of modern culture, human culture
can have a positive relation to religion, and such a positive relation is needed
by both. Christianity is not necessarily distorted or compromised by being re-
lated to human culture. On the contrary, it is by means of culture that Chris-
tianity is related to the particulars of peoples everyday lives. Cultures are
needed for their enabling and preparatory effects for a Christian account of
the world, and cultures grant Christian accounts of the world their specificity,
their variety, and their relevance to actuality. It is a sign of the disease of mod-
ern culture that attempts to relate Christian beliefs and practices to it result in
compromise and distortion.
IV
We have looked at the role of culture as mediator between religious beliefs and
the entities and events of ordinary experience.We have also looked at those as-
pects of modern culture that Lewis thinks militate against its functioning as a
culture.We now ask what he sees as viable in the present cultural situation.
For one thing, despite the official line against the relation of events or en-
tities to values, there are matters that we continue to agree upon as to their
value.We can recognize acts of courage, for example, and we judge them as
admirable. We also continue to have complex responses to experiences that
the Romantics called sublime.We recognize, as well, some things and actions
as inherently ugly, abhorrent, or evil. Lewis points out that there is a remark-
able agreement among cultures about such relations. Cultures historically or
geographically distant from one another not only recognize that there is a re-
lation of events and things to human judgments about them but also agree
widely as to what those relations are. These remnants of culture that remain
with us are crucial for our ability to relate positively to other cultures, those
both in other locations and in our own past.
It is not fashionable to argue, as Lewis does, that there are matters of con-
tinuity between cultures. There will be little agreement in todays academic
world that there are things that people in a culture evaluate in common and
much less agreement that evaluations are shared across cultures.
This resistance is due to the pervasive relativism in current cultural theo-
ries. But that relativism is slowly moderating. Even Barbara Herrnstein Smith,
c ulture 89
a notable relativist in matters of value, acknowledges that there are always op-
erating for persons and groups beliefs in some values as noncontingent.28 In-
deed, it seems indispensable to the stability of persons, institutions, and soci-
eties over time that not everything should be open to question or up for sale.
Smith would not explain such beliefs within a culture as arising from relations
that necessarily exist between certain events or entities and human responses
to them, but there is growing room even among relativists for recognition of
nonrelative, shared beliefs and relations. Indeed, the projects of morally in-
formed social criticism and actions, such as those undertaken on behalf of op-
pressed people in other cultures, depend on such an affirmation. Situations
and events in differing cultures can be judged oppressive because they actually
are so and not simply because people, given their particular culture, happen to
think they are. That belief is implied by the United NationsUniversal Decla-
ration of Human Rights.
Lewiss argument about cross-cultural similarities has increasing credibil-
ity in contemporary postcolonial theory. Until recently, a main point of post-
colonial theory has been that the Western assumption of a common human
nature allowed colonial powers to impose on non-Western people changes
dictated by specifically Western ideas that were mistakenly assumed to be uni-
versal.29 When Western culture assumed that human nature was the same re-
gardless of differing cultures, cultural imperialism went unquestioned.West-
ern ideas about human nature produced violent consequences for the lives of
people whose differing cultural beliefs and behaviors were discounted by
their colonizing intruders. Postcolonial theory, therefore, has understandably
emphasized the differences between cultures. But theorists are beginning to
recognize a violence that is a counterpart to the construction of the Same,
namely, the construction of the Wholly Other. When we judge people of
other cultures as people with whom we have nothing in common, we are free
from having to take a genuine interest in them, from caring about their well-
being, or from questioning our treatment of them. Distancing and excluding
people under the construction of the Otheris potentially as violent as their
inclusion under a construction of the Same.30 The lines of similarity be-
tween cultures that Lewis draws in his appendix to The Abolition of Man may
seem somewhat superficial or arbitrary, but they suggest a salutary recognition
that other peoples are not only different from but also like us. Similarities as
well as differences should be assumed between us and our culture and people
distant from us, even though those similarities, both in their nature and ex-
tent, cannot be predicted.

The question of the relations of cultures to one another is quite simply
answered when one chooses either to say that cultures differ from one another
all the way down or to say that differences are relatively superficial, are ways by
which people differently believe or differently perform essentially the same
things. The result of arguing for a position somewhere between these clear
options seems murky and unworkable. But we frequently find ourselves
placed in this kind of position, and we seem to handle it rather well. A note-
worthy example concerns how we adjust to the relation of difference and
continuity over time.When we see someone at a reunion, let us say, someone
we have not seen in years, we enter a conversation with that person with the
awareness that in many respects the person before us is the person we knew
many years ago and in other respects the person is different. There are similar-
ities, I am suggesting, between the perennial problem in the philosophy of
time created by change and continuity and the problem of difference and sim-
ilarity between cultures.What makes the problem vexing in each case is that
we can assume that there is both continuity and discontinuity, but we know
beforehand neither how much of each there will be nor in what things the
similarities and in what things the differences will be found. As with the per-
son we see at a reunion after many years, so with someone from another cul-
ture, we must determine, during the conversation, how the question of same
and different sorts itself out.
The question of how a person from a differing culture is like and is unlike
us is precisely the question that Ransom faces as he deals with his hosts on
Malachandra. He recognizes the great differences between them and himself
and, even more, between their culture and the one that he left behind on
earth. But these differences, while major, do not prevent him from under-
standing and appreciating much about the lives of the Malachandrans. In-
deed, he is able to see that in many respects their ways of doing things and
their attitudes toward their world are enviable compared with his own or with
those of the culture that he left behind. In my opinion, Lewis gives his fullest
answer to the question of the relation of cultures to one another in this narra-
tive. Ransom enters his conversations with the expectation that there are sim-
ilarities, that he will be able to understand creatures who clearly differ greatly
from him. But he does not enter the conversation supposing that he knows
where the points of similarity and of difference will arise and how much of
each there will be. Furthermore, I think that Lewis would say that Ransoms
relations with the hrossa on Malachandra, while extreme, are in this respect
continuous with our relations not only with people of other cultures but also
c ulture 91
with our neighbors. In our dealings with people, even when they are close to
us, we are always confronting the question of the same and the differing, and
that makes our relations with people both difficult and enriching. Perhaps if I
were to take more seriously the differences between myself and my neighbor,
I would be better prepared to take more seriously the similarities between
myself and a person from another culture. In every encounter with another
person, but especially in encounters with persons of differing gender, ethnic-
ity, or religious identity, one is engaged in dynamics of shared and unshared,
different and similar.
We can return now from the question of the relation of cultures to one
another to the question of the role of culture in an account of the world, par-
ticularly to the mediating role culture plays between the norms and beliefs of a
person and people and their concrete experiences. This mediating role can be
illuminated, perhaps, by seeing how some theorists are trying recently to turn
particular communities into substitutes for culture. A typical and striking
move of this kind has been made by Stanley Fish. Fish understands an inter-
pretive community, particularly one formed by a profession, to constitute an
ersatz culture. The functions that Lewis ascribes to culture Fish ascribes to
professions. If we look at what Fish says about the professions, particularly the
legal and literary professions, we can see more clearly what Lewis is saying
about culture.
Fish militates against an anything goes attitude toward the interpreta-
tion of literary texts, attitudes sponsored by some kinds of postmodernist the-
ories and apparently justified by his own reader-response theory. He counters
such attitudes with his theory of interpretive communities generally and of
professions particularly. He argues that it is never the case that anything goes
because interpreters of literary or legal texts operate in a context of received
norms regarding how texts are to be read and interpreted. The guild is really,
for Fish, a condensed or substitute culture. The guild provides directives con-
cerning what is to be entertained as a possible interpretation of a text, and it
provides criteria for how the interpretation of a text can be challenged and
defended. There are rules governing that process, and it can never be true that
at any time anything goes. Indeed, the guild even provides the means by
which it does and can change its rules. The basis for Fishs trust in a profes-
sional community to handle effectively such perennial problems as constancy
and change, or unity and diversity, is not, as it would be for Lewis, culture but
the human mind. He extends the trust he has in the human mind to profes-
sions.31 And he elevates professions to paradigms for interpretative communi-
ties within the wider culture.

Lewis would not share Fishs confidence in the hierarchy here established,
which starts at the top with the human mind, moves down into professional
and academic communities, and moves outward from there into the wider
culture. Lewis believes and places more trust in a shared culture and in the
processes by which families, schools, churches, and other settings bring chil-
dren to awareness of and participation in it. He believes that the evaluations
that people make of things they encounter need to be sharpened, challenged,
and/or altered, and the professions, for Lewis, serve the larger culture by be-
ing more concentrated settings for these cultural processes. The literary pro-
fession, far from enclosed and operating by its own rules, should be influenced
by and responsible to that larger culture.
Lewis would contend, I think, that Fish neglects the special relation of
literary studies to the language of a culture. Literary studies has this public
function because culture principally mediates relations between beliefs and
reality by means of language generally and of literature particularly. Lewis
would read Fish, I think, as short-circuiting the mediating role of the literary
profession in favor of a model that relates literary studies to the culture only
incidentally, if at all. Such a model makes the literary profession self-enclosed.
Lewis would find that position, in my opinion, irresponsible and self-serving,
and I am inclined to agree with him.
Out of the Silent Planet, as I have suggested, gives us quite a full exposure of
the central role of language, literature, and literary studies in Lewiss theory of
culture. Ransom is a philologist as well as a historian, and on his visit to
Malachandra he is fascinated by its language. He assumes that the creatures he
encounters, since they could communicate, have a language with rough simi-
larities of structure and dynamics to his own. Of the three kinds of creatures
he encounters on the planet, Ransom has most to do with the hrossa, who are
the poets. The hrossa stand, as custodians and developers of language, in a
middle or mediating position between the sorns, who are the intellectuals, and
the pfifltriggi, who are the miners and artisans. Language and literature, there-
fore, are the means by which the mundane and the rational are related. Litera-
ture is the way by which the relations between mind or knowledge and expe-
rience or reality are clarified, refined, and challenged. It is also the means by
which language is changed and improves its capacity to articulate the attitudes
and evaluations implicit in the relations people have with one another and
their experiences.
Language is, then, for Lewis not only the way by which we talk about
ideas or beliefs and experiences, but it is also their mode. As Ransom learns
the language of the Malachandrans, the language opens his eyes to the world
c ulture 93
around him and allows him to recognize it. He sees things when he has the
words for them. Language relates ideas or beliefs and reality to one another in
mutually revealing ways. Persons consequently reveal the kind of world in
which they live by the language that they use. Poetic uses of language seem
most important because they illuminate forcefully and meaningfully the rela-
tion of people to both their beliefs and their surroundings. Language does not
simply provide a way of talking about our world; it is the way we are in our
world. Language enables us to have and discover right relations between our-
selves and what lies, so to speak, around us (our experiences with people,
events, and things) and above us (our norms and beliefs).
Lewis grants to human language the potential for conveying something
shared between human cultures and simultaneously the potential for making
human cultures distinctive and particular. Languages are the source both of
our understanding and our not being able fully to understand people who are
different from us. As he says, A language has its own personality; implies an
outlook, reveals a mental activity, and has a resonance, not quite the same as
those of any other. Not only the vocabularybut the very shape of the syntax
is sui generis.32
Literary culture, then, is the primary site for conveying, reinforcing, and
changing the relations of people to their worlds. It does this in two ways or for
two reasons. First, literature can record right relations and responses of per-
sons to things and events, thereby challenging the reader to judge or respond
to them in that way. This is the more lyrical side of literatures contribution to
the validation of relations between internal states and external events or
things. Second, literature allows the reader to enter a world and to undergo
certain experiences by which assumptions about things and their value are
tested. Literature, that is, provides models of actions and experiences that re-
veal the consequences of beliefs and attitudes. This contribution to the cul-
ture is made by literatures more narrative modes.
The culture derives its complex unity and its moral content primarily,
then, from its stories and songs, and these operate both to confirm and to
challenge relations between people and between people and their worlds. Sci-
entific and technological language lacks the resources to provide that content
and directive. It should, therefore, operate within a culture defined primarily
in literary terms. The moral content of literature forms a tradition and offers
direction in which the other interests and activities of the society find their
places and accept challenges and corrections to their excesses and errors. This
does not mean that science cannot affect literature and contribute as well to
change in the culture. Indeed, it should and does. But the rules within which

change and transformation can occur and which govern it are inherent to lit-
erary culture.
Lewiss work also implies a close tie between literature and religion. As
scientific and technological language must look upward to the language of
song and story to provide moral direction, so the language of Christian belief
must look downward to literature for actualization. This is not surprising,
given the fact that literary culture in England is so closely tied to Christianity.
It is a literary culture that is marked by moral inquiry. Literary culture can ac-
knowledge ends or goals as well as means. It can recognize things beyond the
boundaries of self-interest as of principal importance. It can articulate pri-
mary relations between people and between people and their worlds. It can
posit language as the principal medium of those relations.And it can place and
interpret things in relation to what is believed to be higher and more edifying.
However, literary culture need not necessarily be Christian to do such
things. It need only create a situation in which Christian beliefs can be articu-
lated as providing the framework for a viable, even satisfying account of
things. That viability lies in Christianitys capacity to take what is adumbrated
in culture and to complete it, to provide that to which it looks. It also is posi-
tioned to expose the cultures deficiencies, especially when the culture begins
to generate attitudes and assumptions that militate against the transcendent or
to relegate religious belief and moral concerns to the margins.
What are the consequences of Lewiss stress on the basic role played by lit-
erature in and for the culture, the church, and the Bible? First, we must keep
in mind that the church will always be affected by its culture. It requires cul-
ture as the means by which its beliefs are fleshed out and by which its beliefs
are related to the entities and events that make up what we refer to as reality.
The simple fact is that an inadequate or diseased culture will negatively affect
the church. So, the Reverend Straik in That Hideous Strength is carried along
by the ideology of N.I.C.E. and reduces Christian doctrine to terms that sup-
port its enterprises. The program of the institute claims to pursue the better-
ment of human kind, even eventually to provide deliverance from death.
Straik finds no difficulty in subsuming Christianity under those goals, arguing
that what Christianity foretold is now being transposed to and fulfilled in the
agenda of the institute and its goals.
Let us suppose that a spokesperson for the Church were to avoid Straiks
mistake by moving in the opposite direction, namely, to condemn the culture
and isolate the church as much as possible from it.We have already seen that
this would largely be impossible. But more important, it would be a move that
depends on modern culture. It would be a move that defines the church and
c ulture 95
its culture in a negative relation, and thus adopts the cultures assumption of
external relations and identity by opposition. Nothing is more like the culture
than acts of taking exception to it, than acts of self- and group distinction.
The act of rejecting modern culture cannot be dissociated from what is re-
jected or from the cultures high estimation of identity by opposition.
The church requires culture, but it is not subservient to it. People gener-
ally and believers especially have the responsibility to be aware of what the
culture makes available and how the culture exerts influence. The church is
the community of those who actively examine, clarify, and try to articulate
the right relations between Christian beliefs and the language of their culture.
What has been said about the complex relation of church to culture can
also be extended to the Bible. Reading the Bible is not for Lewis a practice ex-
ceptional in relation to reading other texts. Reading, including the Bible, is a
process of making oneself receptive, a process that can be described either as
an enlargement or as a temporary annihilation of the self.33 Reading the
Bible in the same way one reads other texts does not mean that the Bible and
reading it are the same as other texts and what it means to read them. No text
and no reading are the same. If one is receptive to reading this text, its particu-
lar, even unique, qualities will become available. I infer from what he says
about the relation of the Christian story to other stories that what one re-
ceives in reading the Bible is this: what one longs to be true in reading other
stories is clarified as true in the reading of this story.
The core doctrines of Christianity are conclusions and extrapolations
drawn from reading the Bible. In the Bible they are inherent to particular lit-
erary genres. Biblical doctrines and beliefs are affected by various and chang-
ing cultural conditions. Because literary traditions expose human needs and
desires, they anticipate Christian beliefs or reveal Christian beliefs to be viable
languages for the articulation of those needs or desires and their fulfillment.
Literary traditions prepare for and reinforce the authority of the Bible. We
have a sense of the Bibles force and significance because, despite the distance
of our own culture from those of ancient times, we have been prepared for
reading it by the poems and narratives of our own literary culture.
Lewis, unlike so many theorists of culture, does not see humans, individ-
ually or in groups, as passive and helpless in their relation to culture. He thinks
that it is possible for people to question what the prevailing culture is leading
them to believe, how it is asking them to behave and why. Culture, however
powerful and pervasive it may be, need not displace the person. Indeed, Chris-
tians, having access to norms and beliefs of Christians in other cultures, can
test their own culture by judging if and why those norms and beliefs are ex-

cluded or distorted by it. There exists both actually and potentially a mutual,
interactive relation between persons, especially religious persons, and their
culture.As we shall see in the next chapter, culture and character must be taken
together. The aspects of modern culture that resist and distort religion, al-
though powerfully entrenched, can, for Lewis, still be resisted by people gen-
erally and by Christians especially. That should be done in two ways. First,
Christians should reveal that narcissism and materialism, the extreme, contrary
articulations of the subject/object, value/fact split, not only do not, either
separately or together, offer adequate accounts of the world but also conspire
to destroy culture. Second, they should seek out and advocate what in the cul-
ture remains viable, what serves to enhance and to evince right relations be-
tween people, between people and the events and entities of their world, and
between people and what speaks accurately to their moral and spiritual needs
and desires. Lewis addresses his readers as potential co-agents in the work of
resisting the negative and affirming the positive aspects of modern culture.
Can we, as turn-of-the-century American readers, appraise our culture as
in any way still viable enough to do, even partially, the kind of work that Lewis
asks a culture to do? I am not certain of the answer, but I do believe that there
are remnants of a culture analogous to what Lewis tried to retrieve and re-
deploy, remnants still within our reach, however attenuated and scattered they
may be. But the time of their availability may rapidly be slipping away. The
challenge placed before present-day readers of Lewis is that they become co-
agents in gathering and redeploying those remnants of our culture that are still
available to us, primarily in our literature.We will have to say what those rem-
nants are, where they can be found, and how they suggest incipient values and
relationships. It is hoped that such remnants will be seen as a sharable resource
with which to articulate the basis for improved, even edifying relations to
things and events around us, other people, and the source of human good.
c ulture 97
5

CHARACTER
By giving the topic of character a separate chapter, we risk the danger of dis-
sociating character and culture from one another. That is something that we,
as moderns, tend to do. Our thoughts are governed by the assumption that a
gap exists both between internal and external aspects of a persons life and be-
tween the individual and society. Indeed, not only do we think that they are
separated, we also tend to think of society and the individual as opposed.
Much of the literary culture of the twentieth century documents this sense
that individuals, like Willy Loman in Arthur Millers Death of a Salesman, are
victims of a society that opposes them, that is hostile to their well-being.
Lewis, as we saw in the last chapter, militates against the idea that there is
an inevitable gap or even enmity between individuals and society. Once we
have absorbed the belief that there must be such a gap, we begin to construct
our world accordingly, fleshing out the belief in all kinds of ways. The results
are bound to be bad, because the belief is wrong.While there are differences
between the individual and the social, even tensions, they nevertheless exist in
reciprocity with one another. Who I am and what other people expect, need,
and enable me to be, while by no means being the same thing, are inter-
twined. Indeed, as we shall see, Lewis draws a parallel between the structure of
public life and the parts of a persons internal makeup. As culture mediates re-
lations between norms and beliefs and the entities and events that constitute
our experience of reality, so, for Lewis, the parts of a persons internal life, the
intellect and instincts, are mediated by something that corresponds to culture
99
which he calls the chest,or heart. The three-fold structure in which culture
plays a central and mediating role corresponds, therefore, to the three-fold
structure of the individuals life, in which chest or heart plays a mediating
role between mind and body.
Lewis tends to avoid the terms we generally use to talk about these mat-
ters. Lewis talks more about culture than about society, and when he looks
at persons he tends not to speak of the individual but of character. Both
society and individual suggest something formal and without content.
Lewis does not like to talk about people that way.We saw that culture has con-
tent. Character does, too. Character identifies the person as a moral and
spiritual being, as engaged in a process of formation, and as in a constant dy-
namic of conformity and resistance with both other persons and the sur-
rounding culture.
After all that we have said about culture and its crucial role in structuring
and mediating the relation people live out between their beliefs and the reali-
ties of daily life, it might seem that for Lewis culture is far more powerful and
significant than character. The fact of the matter, though, is that Lewis takes
the person, character, to be primary. One might think that here again Lewis is
revealing his indebtedness to the Romantics. But the basis for Lewiss affirma-
tion that the person is of greater importance than the culture is not Romanti-
cism but Christian belief.
Lewis stated the basis for his choice between culture and character clearly
in a famous sermon, The Weight of Glory. Culture, even in the form of its
most magnificent monuments, such as Oxford with all its architecture and
learning, is of secondary importance when compared to the nature and des-
tiny of persons. Toward the end of the sermon he says, Nations, cultures,
arts, civilizationsthese are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat.
But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and ex-
ploitimmortal horrors or everlasting splendours.1 Culture is a part of all
that someday will pass away; but the person is part of what will not. Lewis is
primarily concerned with character not because he is an individualist or a
Romantic. He treats character as primary because he believes that is what
Christian faith requires.
The principal result of viewing character in a religious way is that a per-
son is thought of not only as a moral and spiritual being but also as in relation
with others. It is only by a rather odd, though at times fruitful, exercise of ab-
straction that we can think of the person in isolation. A person is related to the
force and significance of what we think of as reality, and a person is related to
other persons. A person is also related both to culture and to him- or herself.

All of these relations and their content as well as the tensions they generate are
included, for Lewis, under the topic of character.
The relation between culture and character is complex and dynamic.
There are both continuities and discontinuities between them. This means
that for Lewis the relation between them can be one neither of total conform-
ity nor of total dissimilarity. Culture and character contribute to and correct
one another. No person can contain the whole of the culture, and the culture
does not, indeed cannot, wholly determine or absorb the potentials of char-
acter. Consequently, while they are similar and mutually affective, neither ex-
hausts or contains the other. The advancement of culture and the formation
of character are, therefore, interactive processes. When they are not in that
kind of reciprocityand, if the literary testimony of our century is heard,
they have not beensomething is terribly wrong. The culture has become
repressive and resistant, the person has abandoned a sense of relation to and re-
sponsibility for the culture, or both.
This interaction between character and culture, a process that is complex
because there always will be both continuities and discontinuities between
them, is further complicated by the fact that both are always changing. This is
important to keep in mind because the terms characterand culturetend to
suggest what is stable and continuing. There are good reasons why we tend to
associate these terms with what is unchanging.We saw in the last chapter why
culturetends to be associated with what is stable. An emphasis on culture is
generally taken to stress what conserves, what counters change. Character
plays a similar role, and the stability or continuity of character relates to mod-
ern philosophical debates about personal identity. The problem, to put it sim-
ply, is how it can be said that I am the same person that I was several years ago. I
change, but people still know who I am and refer to me as that same person.
This problem was set forth by Locke, who located personal identity in con-
sciousness, and it is addressed by many who follow or dispute him, Butler,
Leibniz, Hume, and Reid, to name a few. The problem is so central to the
modern period because in the seventeenth century it became difficult to ar-
gue that the soulwas the seat of personal identity, that it was the soul that did
not change while the body and other aspects of a persons life did. While
Lewiss understanding of the person arises from his Christian beliefs that a per-
son is destined not only for time but also for eternity, he does not try to locate
the soul as the unchanging seat of personal identity. Nor does he locate per-
sonal identity in consciousness, as Locke did. Personal identity for Lewis lies in
character, the continuity of moral practices, attitudes, and right relations that
marks a person and of which a person may not be fully aware. Character is a
c harac te r 101
kind of second or acquired nature.When people refer to me, then, they are re-
ferring first of all neither to my body and my outward circumstances, impor-
tant as those may be to who I am, nor to my ideas or beliefs, which are largely
internal. Rather, they are referring primarily to this second, acquired, and me-
diating nature, to my character.
Locating personal identity in character relates the person to his or her cul-
ture. Characters are affected by the influences, for good or ill, of the context of
their lives. Primary among those influences are other people, family members
first of all, but many others as well. Indeed, a person, especially in youth, is in-
volved in a truly amazing complex of imitating and resisting, as well as being
accepted and rejected by, other people. In these, and in less direct and pervasive
ways, character is formed in relation to culture.
However, Lewis relates the formation of character to other things as well.
First of all, he ties it to the person. This may seem obvious. But it is truer to say
that a person has a character than that a person is a character. This does not
mean that Lewis gives primacy to consciousness. Rather, it is that for him there
is always something mysterious about a person, something of the unexpected,
something that is all potential. This is because a person has the capacities of
will, reason, and imagination that are able to intervene in the relation of that
person to the culture, to initiate alternatives to that relation, or even to project
alternatives to the culture itself. Another way of saying this is that a person is
and can be creative and responsible. It is from the person that the genuinely
new or unexpected can come. This means that a person is not wholly deter-
mined by the culture.We cannot simply blame the culture when a person does
something bad or give a person no credit if he or she does something good.
Lewis finally relates character to faith. The formation of character yields
to what, in theological language, is called sanctification, that is, the process by
which a person can become more and more Christ-like. These two, the for-
mation of character and becoming more Christ-like, while they are not iden-
tical, are continuous. We shall have to see later how and why this is so. It is
enough now simply to say that there is for Lewis an analogy between the rela-
tion of a viable culture to Christianity and the relation of character to becom-
ing Christ-like. As Christianity requires the presence of a viable culture, sanc-
tification requires character.
I
The topic of character is first of all tied to the question of personal morality.
That creates difficulties because we tend to restrict personal morality to the

practice of obeying moral laws and conforming to social standards of con-
duct. In addition, we think of moral laws and social mores as contrary to what
people want to do, so that there is conflict between morality and a persons de-
sires. To think of moral law as imposed on people and to think of law and hu-
man nature as in conflict with one another are characteristically modern ways
of thinking. In contrast, Lewis thinks of morality as the way in which a per-
son, to borrow a line from the TV commercial for the army, can be all that
you can be.Morality is the way by which the potential particularity of a per-
son is actualized. While moral rules are relevant, even indispensable, to the
process, they are not sufficient. Moral rules are general, even abstract, articu-
lations of moral practices that help secure human well-being. They guide the
process by which a persons unique potentials are realized. But the processes
by which human well-being and personal character are advanced are not
wholly subject to rules. Morality is not primarily a matter of conformity and
repetition; rather, morality is marked by creativity and discovery. Guidelines
and directives relate ambiguously to creativity and discovery.
If it is true that for Lewis morality is not first of all a set of rules that a per-
son follows, it is even truer for him that morality is not imposed arbitrarily on
a persons life. Lewis does not assume that there is a necessary, inherent con-
flict between what a person wants and what that person is allowed or required
to do. For Lewis, there is continuity between what a person ought to do and
what a person most deeply wants to do. In The Screwtape Letters, for example,
we find that people end up in hell not only by failing to do what they ought to
have done but by not doing what they really wanted to do, and even by doing
what they really did not want to do.2 Moral law, in other words, stands to hu-
man well-being a little like the set of instructions enclosed with some new
gadget stands to its best functioning. As Lewis says, In reality, moral rules are
directions for running the human machine. Every moral rule is there to pre-
vent a breakdown, or a strain, or a friction, in the running of that machine.3
Moral law, then, stands to human beings as though prefaced with some such
statement as this: For the most trouble-free and effective life of this human
being, the following instructions should be observed. But the potential of a
gadget for its many uses is not exhausted by guidelines. Morality as a set of
rules is a general guide to how people can most fully actualize their potential
as human beings, but morality and character are by no means exhausted by
moral rules and conformity to them. The purpose of the rules is not to shape
humans into them but to provide guidelines for nurturing their flowering.
Not only is it typically modern and, for Lewis, mistaken to think of
morality as conformity to a set of rules and as in conflict with human needs
c harac te r 103
and desires; it is also modern and mistaken to think of morality exclusively in
terms of the relations of persons to other persons. Moderns tend to think that
way because they assume that there is a conflict between the interests of a per-
son and the interests of other people. This is why, when we think of personal
morality, we tend to think of it as rules that govern and limit our relations to
other people. This encourages us to think of morality negatively, as something
that keeps us from doing what we would like to do because some behaviors
would harm other people. As we tend to think that morality inhibits personal
needs and desires, so we also think that morality inhibits our behavior toward
other people, because the rights of other people would be violated if we were
to pursue our interests freely. Other people, we tend to think, constitute and
expose the limits of our self-interest and largely account for moral restraint.
But the relation of a person to other people, important as it may be for
Lewiss moral theory, is only part, and perhaps not the most important part, of
the moral story. He places equal stress on two other aspects of morality: the
general direction of a persons life and the relation of a person to him- or her-
self, the internal makeup of the person.4 When personal morality is treated
positively in terms of character formation, these other two aspects of moral
life, the internal makeup of a person and the direction or goal of a persons
life, become very important. As we already have seen, value, significance, and
human well-being for Lewis are relational, are matters of right relations. But
right relations can only arise for a person who is morally constituted, who has
character, and character is a matter of the right relation not only between a
person and other people but also between aspects of a persons life and be-
tween a person and his or her goals.
It appears that by stressing personal morality Lewis is minimizing the
moral importance of social, economic, and political factors. Questions of so-
cial justice, economic equity, or acceptable forms of political order are not
central to Lewiss thought. But this is not because they are unimportant or un-
related to morality. Rather, they are too variable, specific, and complex to be
addressed in a general Christian account of the world and of a persons de-
portment within it. They are matters that must be left to the particular occa-
sions when Christians are required to assess their social, political, and eco-
nomic situations, to make choices regarding them, and to work for changes in
them. They are also matters that Christians with expertise in these areas
should be asked to address. As Lewis says, Christianity has not, and does not
profess to have, a detailed political programme for applying Do as you would
be done byto a particular society at a particular moment. It could not have. It
is meant for all men at all times and the particular programme which suited

one place or time could not suit another.5 Every Christian is committed to
pursuing the well-being of others, including distant people and strangers. But
how the Christian should enact that commitment or responsibility toward
others in terms of social, political, and economic policies is something that
Lewis addresses only in very general terms.6 Furthermore, social morality is a
topic largely housed for him under the category of culture, since, as I have
said, culture is for society what character is for the individual. This makes
Lewis more interested in the moral and spiritual values shared among people
than in the, so to speak, physical or material way in which they are structured.
There are exceptions, such as his identification of bureaucracy as the form of
human relations most suited to hell and advanced forms of social evil, and his
insistence on democracy as a counter to human pride.7
Lewiss reluctance to speak directly to questions of social morality may vex
some Christian readers. Christian spokespersons are justifiably alarmed when
Christians withdraw from their responsibilities to alter unjust conditions and
lift burdens of oppression. I do not find Lewis on this point to be wholly inde-
fensible, however. I think a Christian account of the world always carries in-
cipient social, political, and economic beliefs relevant to particular situations. I
also think it very likely that many Christians fail to reflect on and apply these
beliefs to their own circumstances. But I also think that theories and strategies
for creating a more just society seem most effective when they are deployed in
particular situations and not in some uniform and universal way. There is
something limited and even distorting in an approach to people and events that
is consistently political and politically consistent.We all know people who be-
come tedious and ineffective by translating every situation into political or eco-
nomic terms and always into the same terms.We react that way to such people
because their assessments slight the particularity, complexity, and variety of
human situations. Lewis, for that reason, resists viewing people and their rela-
tions through the lens of a theory. Finally, he may also be seen, I think, as wary
of modern social, political, and economic theories and programs because they
are largely based on doctrines of negative, external rather than positive, inter-
nal relations. Such theories and programs are bound not only to be inadequate
but actually to aggravate the problems they are designed to correct.
II
The topic of character, then, turns our attention to behavior relevant first
of all to a persons internal makeup and to the actualization of that persons
particularity. Although this aspect of morality is only partially covered by
c harac te r 105
moral rules, the person is not left to his or her own devices in developing a
moral life. It is not as though each person must improvise particularity from
scratch. There are, of course, moral codes that serve as directives for everyone.
But more than that, there are examples made available by the culture, exam-
ples both from the past and in the present, of people who in their own ways
have tried to live morally and have actualized their particularity in that effort.
Such examples cannot be applied to another persons life like a pattern to be
copied, because this would damage particularity. However, we see how such
people acted in difficult situations, draw inferences from their actions as to
why they responded as they did, sense why their responses were morally ad-
mirable, and interpret a relation between that persons life and our own.
The models of moral behavior that culture can provide are more impor-
tant than rules because they are more complex and vital. It is not that human
models draw their legitimacy or authority from their conformity to rules;
models of behavior have a vitality and particularity that rules lack. It is incum-
bent upon a culture to provide especially young people with a wide variety of
models whose lives can be taken as in one way or another admirable. A culture
with very restricted models is not only itself very restricted but blocks the ac-
cess of young people to the range of potentials within them. Culture should
provide young people with evocative models, that is, with models that bring
their potentials to awareness. These models can be both actual and fictional.
The process of character development relies not only on imitation but also on
imagination, on evoking as yet unrealized human potentials and directing
them past markers already attained.
The provision of models, then, is not an imposition or manipulation.
Children need and constantly look for models to imitate because models
awaken potentials and stimulate desire. If models are not provided, children
will seize on or create their own.While some of this is inevitable and good, as
in the desire of children to resemble their parents or teachers, the process of
model selection ought not to be left exclusively to children or to chance. That
is particularly true for a culture that provides models not to admire in a moral
sense but to envy in a greedy or competitive sense.
One can measure the inadequacy of the models our culture offers by the
fact that young people tend to vacillate between slavish imitation of others
and defiant rejection of them. They tend either to copy closely the styles of
certain people, wanting their bodies, for example, to resemble those of mod-
els or athletes, or to rebel against the cultural authority of models. Character
formation is a process that should largely be free from both copying and defy-
ing. It is a process marked by dynamics of continuity and discontinuity, simi-

larity and differentiation. It relies primarily on interpretation, on articulating
what is admirable and/or objectionable in the model and how that can be
translated into the terms of the persons own character and situation.
For Lewis, education should include constant exposures to such exam-
ples. He is concerned about the state of education in England not only be-
cause it no longer is contained by a culture or dedicated to its continuation but
also because education is no longer the setting for nurturing the growth of
character. As we have seen, education apart from culture becomes training
and at worst conditioning. Training tends to be rule based, to stress conform-
ity. Children learn rules that are imposed on them and to which they must ad-
here, but they are not led to develop character. Character development, while
related to rules, is not rule subservient. Rules employed for training and con-
ditioning stress conformity and uniformity.While training creates conformity
in outward behavior, conditioning creates internal conformity. It is control
over thoughts and feelings. It is the truly sinister effect of modern education.8
It is very important to realize how easily people influenced by our culture
mistake morality for training and conditioning. Lewis would want to distin-
guish sharply between the nurture of character and its modern substitute, so-
cial training or conditioning. The educational system, with its stress on train-
ing and conditioning, is able to develop skills of various kinds. Even personal
relations are subjected to training in social skills.When training rather than
nurturing character becomes the principal interest, value shifts from the par-
ticular person to the social whole. Skills begin to determine the worth of the
person, and that worth can be abstracted from the person and exchanged for
wages. As he points out in The Abolition of Man, training and conditioning are
the tools and effects of power, of what is left in the formation of society and
individuals when culture and character cease to be central.9 This power re-
veals itself in the imposition of some determining and finally arbitrary regime
over peoples capacities to determine for themselves what actions or attitudes
are proper in a given situation. Conditioning, which is the design of social and
political power abstracted from a cultural context and separated from the par-
ticularity of persons, allows social power to displace the moral content of cul-
ture and the morality-producing capacity of the person.10
Lewis, in The Abolition of Man, calls the products of an educational system
that has substituted training and conditioning for the formation of character
people without chests.11 By this he means that the educational system in
particular and the society in general have allowed human beings to be reduced
to two, contrary factors, their drives and their intellects. Missing is the middle,
relational factor, which he refers to as chest.
c harac te r 107
Modern culture, as we have seen, tends to structure reality according to a
dualism between mind on one side and events or entities on the other. The
anthropology that modern education assumes is also dualistic. Children are
taken to be combinations of two contrary factors: their minds and their emo-
tions or physical energies. This anthropology leads to the assumption of con-
flicts between reason and desire, between a persons urge to do certain things
and the force resisting those urges generated by the persons awareness of the
mores and rules that structure social reality. For Lewis, something crucial is
missing, namely, the chest or heart. By this he means a mediating factor that
allows a person to create right relations between desires and mind.While al-
ways already present, the heart needs to be developed.When developed it al-
lows the person to direct his or her life in ways that are good both for the per-
son and for other people. This ability becomes a kind of acquired instinct or a
second nature. This ability does not develop easily or without interruption.
Morality involves conscious choices, painful decisions, and learning from
mistakes. The ability to make decisions and to learn from mistakes develops in
the doing. That process creates character, a morally marked continuity that is
consistent with the actualization of a persons integrity and particularity.
For Lewis the role of chest or heart in the formation of character is
analogous to that of culture in a Christian account of the world. Culture, as
we saw, mediates the relation in public life between what people know and
believe and the entities and events that constitute their experience of reality.
Similarly,chestor heart is that aspect of a persons life that mediates between
thoughts and beliefs and energies and actions. As culture gives moral content
and direction to public life so the heartgives moral content and particularity
to the life of a person. It is the seat of identity. It is what people primarily are
referring to when they refer to a person by name.
Readers familiar with Platos Republic will recognize similarities between
Lewis and Plato on these matters. One such resemblance is between Platos
doctrine of the soul and the anthropology implied in Lewiss discussion of the
internal makeup of persons. Further, Platos belief that the parts of the soul
and the political structure of the city resemble one another corresponds to
Lewiss implied analogy between the aspects of internal life and the three parts
of public life.
In the fourth book of his Republic, Plato describes the parts of the soul as,
first, the appetites, second, the spirit or emotions, and, third, reason. Plato sees
an important, perhaps even causal, relation between the three parts of the soul
and the three-part organization of the city. In the city there are, first, those
who are involved in production and economics. Second, there are the auxil-

iaries, who protect the city against enemies without and who encourage good
behavior within it. Third, there are the guardians who, like philosophers,
guide the city by virtue of their wisdom. The relations between the appetites
of a person and the producers in the city, between the spirit or emotions of a
person and the auxiliaries of a city, and between the reason of a person and the
guardians of a city are quite direct, though more complex for Plato and for his
interpreters than I am making them sound.
Lewis in general draws quite a bit on Plato, especially in The Abolition of
Man. Plato like Lewis addressed the relation of the parts of the soul to one an-
other, the relation of the person to the city, and the role of education in the
internal lives of children and their formation as future citizens. However,
Lewis also differs from Plato in these matters. In Plato reason holds the pri-
mary position in the structure of the human soul. Correspondingly, in the city
state the primary position is given to the guardians, the philosophers or the
wise. This reflects Platos confidence that people desire the good and, when
they know what the good is, will do it. Lewis grants primacy neither to a per-
sons reason nor to the public role of intellectuals. Rather, he gives primacy to
the middle or mediating factors, to chestor heart and to culture.
This difference in priorities arises, I believe, from Lewiss recognition that
modern people, when they think about internal life, give adequate weight to
drives and to intellect. And, when they think about public life they give ade-
quate weight to ideas and to the events and entities that constitute engage-
ment with reality. What moderns neglect or even repudiate is that each of
these two sets of factors needs a mediator. Appetites and intelligence need to
be related to one another by the chest or heart, and public beliefs or norms
and reality need to be related to one another by culture. This also means that
chest or heart needs to be related to culture. It is because moderns fail to
recognize this, or even actively deny it, that Lewis gives primary attention not
to reason but to chestand not to intellectuals but to literary culture.
This is apparent in the three-part structure of the society on Malachan-
dra, particularly in the central role of the hrossa. They are, in the society, the
poets. Lewis could not make the point more clearly. Right relations between
the internal parts of a persons life, between the various aspects of public life,
and between a person and society are all mediated by a middle factor. That
middle factor is most fully constituted by language and most significantly ex-
ercised and engaged by the literary arts, by poetry and narrative.
Character formation is the process by which a person becomes more and
more what the person is and, therefore, should be. Rather than marked by
conformity and uniformity, a society constituted by people of character
c harac te r 109
makes room for and values particularity and diversity. Cultures need always to
be changing in order to accommodate the singular contributions made by dif-
fering characters. Cultures are not molds into which people must fit but living
and changing organisms affected by the vitality and variety of the characters
that constitute them.
It is a recurring theme in Lewiss work that the moral life leads to creativ-
ity and diversity, whereas the immoral life leads to repetition and homogene-
ity. To put it more theologically, God is the great diversifier and Satan the great
homogenizer. This runs counter to common assumptions. We often think
that morality means conformity, a limiting of ones own particularity, and that
immorality means breaking with restraint and doing what one wants, being
ones self. This is because we think of morality as rule governed and as con-
formity to social conditioning.
When morality is equated with conformity, evil looks creative; breaking
rules appears inventive and heroic in contrast to keeping rules and conform-
ing to the power of the regime. But for Lewis, God, as creator, releases per-
sons to develop their own particularity; Satan, as parasite and devourer, ab-
sorbs persons and creates uniformity. Evil, while it at first may seem bold and
groundbreaking, eventually becomes monotonous and obsessive. Goodness is
creative and diverse, while evil is reductive and repetitive. As Lewis writes in
The Great Divorce,Good, as it ripens, becomes continually more different not
only from evil but from other good.12 The good life is marked by crossing
thresholds, by growth, while an evil life is marked by crossing boundaries, by
deviance. It is only because people have mistaken training and conditioning
for morality and culture that they are led to regard immoral actions as creative
and self-liberating.
In our culture we tend to substitute identity formation for character
development. This substitution has two consequences. It fails to relate the
formation of a person to moral content and direction, and, because the prin-
cipal process of identity formation is individuation, it stresses separation and
difference at the expense of relations and responsibility. These consequences
encourage children, however tacitly, to discount the importance of moral
examples for the formation of their personal lives. Their response to such
examples will be primarily how to differ from them. Or, they will select as
their models forms of behavior that are marked by opposition and rebellion.
Our substitution of identity formation for character development and of
society for culture are signs of the moral quandaries and sharp curtailment
of human potentiality that Lewis detects as dangerous consequences of mod-
ern culture.

Culture, as we have noted, should provide stories that are vital to charac-
ter formation. By reading and hearing stories, children live through various
situations and learn how characters react and make decisions. This going-
through process, which is basic to reading or hearing a story and is crucial to
character formation, allows a person to negotiate between the situations en-
countered in stories and the readers own life and between the characters re-
sponses and the readers responses to situations of equal gravity or complexity.
Although some narratives are subject to rules and can be summarized by a
moralThe early bird catches the worm, for exampleit is a serious mis-
take to suppose that the moral importance of narratives for children is limited
to illustrating rules or morals. Narrative is more deeply instructive when the
reader perceives that the decisions made and the actions taken turn out to have
been good or bad ones, even though it may not be possible to say exactly what
makes them one or the other. It is not always necessary to cite a rule in order to
certify rightness. Participation in narratives produces a kind of moral intu-
ition that cannot be fully translated into rules. Moral fiber develops from
working through complex narrative situations with a character, reacting to
challenges, making decisions, and suffering or enjoying the results. Rather
than apply the narrative to his or her own life in a direct way, the reader or
hearer of such stories tends to recognize his or her own life as also constituted
by challenges, decisions, and consequences for which one cannot be com-
pletely prepared but which must nonetheless be faced and lived through.
III
The specifically moral content of character formation is for Lewis very much
tied to virtue and the virtuous life. This interest in virtue arises from his train-
ing in classical philosophy, particularly Plato and Aristotle, and from his work
with medieval and Renaissance cultures. Virtue delivers the discussion of
morality from a captivity to which it often succumbs, namely, to the analysis
of specific moral problems and to the act of making conscious moral deci-
sions. Stress on virtue in moral theory has the consequence, among other
things, of conveying a sense of continuity in moral training and behavior.
Rather than atomize and isolate experiences and decisions, which are typical
modernist moves, Lewis stands with a premodern emphasis on moral behav-
ior as both arising from and reinforcing character, and character is nurtured
and sustained by, although it is not subsumed under, tradition and culture.13
In his discussion of the cardinal virtues in Mere Christianity, Lewis does
not make a special plea for the importance of any one of them. He lists
c harac te r 111
prudence first, however, and it does seem to have a special place in his moral
theory. For one thing, prudence is a virtue that carries suggestions of tradition
and culture as sources of moral knowledge. But there is also another way in
which prudentia seems crucial for Lewiss theory of virtue. Prudence
comes into play whenever a situation arises that cannot be addressed by means
of a rule, and such situations arise constantly. For example, suppose someone
is on the way to perform an important task and encounters a neighbor in
need. Should that person forsake the task for the neighbor or vice versa? The
decision about which rule to applycompassion, say, or responsibility to ful-
fill a commitmentis not itself rule governed. Narratives can introduce
young people to dilemmas of this kind; in this way they learn that occasions
can arise that will require them to decide which rule to follow, that will make
clear that there is no rule governing the selection of the rule to follow, and that
there are features of particular situations that may help in making the decision.
Prudence is particularly productive in revealing the whole of the virtuous life,
namely, that it is strengthened by exposure to complex situations, to making
decisions in them, and by evaluating the results of those decisions.
The virtuous life is not repetitive or stagnant. Like tradition and culture,
character develops. In this respect, morality is like a game. Games change over
the course of time because players introduce new strategies or risks. Changes
in a game are wrought neither by spectators nor by neophyte players but by
those who know the game very well. Likewise, morality develops by morally
creative persons. In order to illustrate this process, Lewis does not use the anal-
ogy of inventive players of a game but, rather, of a poets relation to language.
The poet, who knows language and is resourceful in using it, changes lan-
guage and usage. It is not surprising, given Lewiss view of the role of litera-
ture in culture and in the formation of character, that his example is literary.
He says,A great poet, who has loved,and been well nurtured in, his mother
tongue, may also make great alterations in it, but his changes of the language
are made in the spirit of the language itself: he works from within.14 Indeed,
one of the characteristics of admirably moral persons is that they have some-
how changed the game or the language, perhaps even the rules.While Lewis is
far from cavalier about the stability of rules and norms in moral theory, he
does not make the virtuous life and the formation of character subservient to
them. However, laws may be modified, suspended, or broken only by people
who respect them, who recognize their generally authoritative status.
Lewiss emphasis on virtue in his moral theory allows him to stress the
continuity between human action and human nature. This is why Lewis re-
lates character formation to natural law. He uses the concept of natural law

neither to warrant morality by affirming that it is inscribed in nature nor to el-
evate a moral code by making it inclusive of all creatures. Lewiss theory of
natural law underpins his conviction that character and virtue do not run
counter to the natural constitution of persons as human beings and do not
throw persons out of alignment with their environment. Morality reveals in-
terrelations and continuities between a persons natural condition, a persons
relations with other people, and a persons internal makeup.
Antagonism toward moral law, consequently, is not a natural but a socially
acquired attitude. Rather than assume and promote a sense of relatedness be-
tween persons and moral behaviors, our culture largely teaches that there is
antagonism between them. Such a belief, even dogma, is unthinkable apart
from the separation created by the culture between internal and external fac-
tors, between mind and body, between consciousness (which knows laws) and
energy (which knows none). On this model, human life, because it is basically
in conflict with itself, produces turmoil and unhappiness. A person continu-
ally either denies his or her desires or breaks social mores or moral laws.
For Lewis the model is more complex because a middle, relational factor
must be added, the heart or chest.It mediates a relationship between bodily
drives and intellect, and the person becomes both more moral and more him-
or herself as that relationship emerges and is secured.Virtues are results of that
relationship. When virtues develop they stabilize relations between physical
and mental potentials that serve the well-being of a person by producing in-
tegrity and moral reliability. Lewis believes that persons can live in positive
continuity with their worlds and that they can do so without necessarily having
to repress their own potentials and desires. The two need not conflict. Moral
acts need not create conflict between happiness and responsibility, between the
well-being of others and the development of particular, personal gifts.
Finally, while moral laws should not be treated cavalierly, at times moral
considerations can lead a person to depart from law. There may be ways of
acting in a particular situation that are more moral than simply abiding by a
rule. Situations, especially human relations, are not, for Lewis, wholly subject
to rules; rather, rules are modified and interpreted in relation to situations.
This does not mean that Lewis advocates a kind of situational ethics, an ap-
proach to morality that was very popular after World War II both in Europe
and in this country.15 It is not as though rules for Lewis lack authority and
must be derived from each situation. A person brings to every situation not
only knowledge of moral rules but also a character that is trained in the diffi-
cult task of making moral decisions in complex situations. But situations call
the person to practice the virtue of prudentia,to make a decision about how
c harac te r 113
to act in that particular situation. At times, this may require a choice between
differing rules, the modification of a rule, or the suspension of a rule alto-
gether in the process of making a moral decision or taking moral action.
Moral behavior or character formation is, therefore, always a creative,
even heroic work. It is a process by which a person is strengthened to act freely
and responsibly at the same time, to act in a way that allows both personal de-
sire and situation to coincide.
It is very hard to counter the modern notion that moral behavior is uni-
form and dull. It is not made easier by the fact that the drama of moral deci-
sion-making is largely an internal one. Moral persons do look somewhat ordi-
nary on the outside, consequently, while immoral people stand out because
they seem to have the courage to defy conventions, to assert their individual-
ity, and to create unexpected and provocative situations.
But for Lewis immoral behavior turns out to be not creative but monoto-
nous. Immoral behavior becomes predictable: Once a liar always a liar, as
people sometimes say. Goodness has variety, innovation, and specificity. Evil
creates only apparent unity between people because it dissolves their particu-
larities. Goodness, however, from the outside looks ordinary or natural. It is
something like the ability of a musician or athlete to do remarkable things
with apparent ease, the ease concealing the fact that the ability comes only
with years of concentration and practice. Evil stands out because it is arbitrary.
It attracts the morbidly curious. It is analogous to the difference between sick-
ness and health. Illness is more dramatic, more alarming, and gets more atten-
tion than health. This is why hypochondriacs need complaints; they need to
make themselves more interesting to others and, perhaps, to themselves by
feeling ill. The ordinariness of moral life is one of the things that endangers it.
Like health we take it for granted and are tempted to discount it in relation to
the apparent though illusory excitements of evil.16
Lewis had to face the problem of creating evil characters for his stories
without making them attractive. He does this by making them ludicrous, like
Uncle Andrew and Jadis in The Magicians Nephew, boring, like Weston and
Devine in Out of the Silent Planet, or increasingly unhappy, like Mark in That
Hideous Strength and Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. On the
other hand, by keeping evil from being attractive, Lewis must also avoid mak-
ing it trivial, downplaying its force and pervasiveness.17 This he does by show-
ing not only how widespread and damaging it is but also how strangely natural
evil can become, how immoral behavior gradually dulls moral sensitivities.
Evil can be rationalized because it always attaches itself to something
good. Evil is parasitic. It perverts the good. As a consequence, a case can al-

ways be made in defense of an evil. This also means that it often is difficult to
distinguish between evil and good because the two will always, at least to
some degree, resemble one another. Let us take only one example, the differ-
ence between a creative imagination and a destructive imagination.18 The de-
structive imagination serves the desire for self-expansion, projecting situa-
tions in which the person can feel more important or experience more
pleasure than in ordinary life. The creative or productive imagination, on the
other hand, serves the purpose of enlarging ones world and giving a person a
correct, more accurate sense of his or her place within it.While both types of
imaginative act compensate for deficiencies and both can be exciting and
pleasing, they radically diverge. Why? In the first the individual reduces the
world to his or her own desires, making it a projection not only of self but also
only of some part of the actual or potential self. In the second a person is
placed in a larger or more complex world that calls him or her to be not less
than but more than before. The difference between the two is an experienced
difference and not one clearly marked by a rule. This is due to the dependence
of evil on good. Evil always turns something good to destructive ends. And
the point of divergence between good forms of something good and bad
forms of something good is often difficult to detect.
While the moral life, the life of virtue, is an ordinary life, it is not dull.
Character is always growing.As athletes and musicians are always trying to im-
prove and diversify their performance, so a person works at personal develop-
ment as a process of refinement and expansion.We are always encountering
new challenges and always needing to judge what to do about them.We can
recoil from these challenges and retreat to some kinds of habitual responses.
Passivity and inactivity can look to other people very much like morality, but
from within nothing is happening. Character arises not from avoiding evil or
always doing the same thing; it arises from doing good, and doing good is in-
novative, is always a part of a concrete situation, and enriches both the doer
and the doers world.
IV
While predictability becomes the characteristic of the wicked person, relia-
bility becomes the mark of character. True, they seem much alike, but pre-
dictability is monotonous and empty of content while reliability inspires trust
and confidence. We are not always sure what a reliable person will do, but
we are sure that it will in some way be the right thing to have done. Reliability
has authority; it counts for something. When Professor Kirk questions the
c harac te r 115
children about Lucys reports, toward the beginning of The Lion,TheWitch and
the Wardrobe, he says to Susan, . . . a charge of lying against someone whom
you have always found truthful is a very serious thing; a very serious thing in-
deed.19 While the virtuous life is always growing, it is also constant and cre-
ates confidence in others.
Reliability has close ties with making and keeping promises, and this as-
pect of the virtue of justice is also very important in Lewis for character for-
mation. Promises ought not to be made rashly, and once made they should be
kept. It is by promising that a person projects a life and lives toward that pro-
jection. By keeping promises a person instills confidence in others as one
whose word is consistent with performance.
Reliability is a form of moral authority. In fact, it seems implicitly to
stand in Lewiss work as an answer to the question left by his rejection of bu-
reaucracy as the characteristic form of authority in the modern period. It is a
mistake, I think, to assume that Lewis, by rejecting bureaucratic authority, ad-
vocates either of the alternatives to it included in Max Webers well-known
typology. Lewis does not support either traditional authority, that is, authority
that is passed down from generation to generation, despite his use of royal ti-
tles in the Narnia Chronicles. Nor does he promote charismatic authority,
Webers third type. The virtue of justice, primarily in the form of reliability
substantiated by keeping promises, covenants, and contracts, may be taken, I
think, as a fundamental ingredient in Lewis of moral authority and its social
consequences.
One of the contexts for promising to which Lewis gives particular atten-
tion is marriage. He takes a strong stand on the inviolability of the marriage
vow. His discussions of sexuality, romantic love, and Christian marriage, espe-
cially in Mere Christianity and The Four Loves, are very firmly tied to his sense
of the importance of promises to the formation and continuity of character.
Lewiss belief in the importance of keeping promises deeply affected his
personal life. Before they went off to serve in the First World War, Lewis and
his friend Paddy Moore promised one another that if either one of them
should die in the war the other would care for the bereaved parent, Lewiss fa-
ther or Paddys mother, who was separated from her husband. Paddy did die,
and Lewis lived with and supported Mrs. Moore until her death more than
thirty years later. This relationship was difficult and demanding, especially in
later years, and raised questions for Lewis during his life and for biographers
and students of his work ever since.Very soon after the death of Mrs. Moore,
Lewis began his relationship with Joy Davidman, a married woman who later

divorced. This relationship is well known from the stage play that was later
made into films in England and in the U. S., Shadowlands. Joy Davidman be-
came a close friend and collaborator with Lewis, and they married in a civil
ceremony in 1956 so that she could remain in England. Despite the obstacle of
marrying a woman whose former husband was still living, Lewis and Joy were
united in Christian marriage the next year. My point in bringing up these two
moments in Lewiss life is that they reveal something about character. First,
they reveal Lewiss ability to adhere to his promises even when the conse-
quences became very taxing, such as dealing with the demanding personality
of Mrs. Moore and the sickness and eventual death of his wife, Joy. But also
they reveal how he choose to ignore convention and even to suspend some
rules of behavior in order to carry through on his commitments and promises.
Promising, it seems to me, provides for Lewis a connection between
character formation, a general moral, human possibility, and sanctification, a
specifically Christian one. There is a relation between keeping a promise and
becoming more Christ-like. The willingness to keep a promise often means
doing so when it is inconvenient or contrary to ones wishes. This means that
promising and adhering to promises often involves self-sacrifice, and self-sac-
rifice is the process by which a person gives up him- or herself while also re-
ceiving a new self, a process, that is, of sanctification.
What has to happen before a person can think of his or her development
not in terms of self-extension or self-enrichment but in terms of self-sacri-
fice? The ability to make that change depends, for Lewis, on faith, hope, and
love, on the theological virtues. A person who makes and keeps promises is
one who does not live primarily for self, and the theological virtues can
emerge only in such a person.
Lewis gives so much attention to Christian marriage because it is the
most common and the most fully involving form of promising in which peo-
ple engage. It is only the Christian, that is, the person for whom the sacrifice
of self can be a process entered into willingly, who should promise, he argues,
to marry for life. In Mere Christianity he suggests that society should make
available to nonreligious people the possibility of more limited or conditional
vows.20 The form of marriage that we now have is one appropriate to reli-
gious belief, and if the religious context of marriage dissolves, people should
not, perhaps, be expected to adhere to a promise for the entirety of their lives
or without regard to changing circumstances. Only a person of faith, he sug-
gests, should be called on to make that kind of vow, since it will almost
inevitably require substantial self-sacrifice. While I think that Lewis is only
c harac te r 117
half-serious in this proposal, it does make some sense. There are many reasons
why people live together without being married, but one of them may be an
inability or unwillingness, as they say,to make a commitment.It may be too
much to ask individuals in a culture like ours in which self-interest is a pri-
mary value to make an unconditional and life-long commitment. For many
couples renewable term contracts may be a sensible alternative to the present
all or nothing status of the marriage bond.
Character formation and the process of sanctification are overlapping or
continuous with one another, but they are not identical. Character formation
issues into sanctification when a person becomes aware that self-actualization
occurs not by retaining or increasing the self but by letting it go, letting it die.
Lewis offers the keeping of promises, particularly marriage vows, as a clear
and common way by which the process of character formation yields to the
process of sanctification. The cardinal virtues, then, lead to and prepare for
the theological virtues, and the life of sanctification arises from character.
As models of virtue, especially in narratives, are the best guides for char-
acter formation, so models are crucial to the process of sanctification. In Mere
Christianity Lewis advocates the imitation of other Christians and of Christ.
As with models of virtue, models for the process of sanctification are not slav-
ishly copied. Rather, imitation is something like getting the hang of it. He
seems to have in mind, when he addresses imitation, Pauls invitation to the
Philippian Christians that they imitate him as he imitates Christ, which pri-
marily means the fundamental act of self-emptying (Philippians 2:1-11).
The relation between the cardinal and the theological virtues resembles
the relation between culture and a Christian account of the world. As saintli-
ness depends upon character formation, so a Christian account of the world
depends upon a viable culture. As saintliness is something very different from
character formation yet depends on it, so Christianity is very different from
culture but also requires it. The relation of culture and character to one an-
other, by which each affects the other in complex ways, is further secured by
their mutual roles as preparations for and bases of the Christian life and a
Christian account of the world.
When we turn to the question of what it would be like to attempt a proj-
ect similar to Lewiss on American soil in this present, transitional time, we
shall have to consider what prospects there may be for character formation in
the American literary tradition.We shall have to ask whether the interest that
Lewis took in character and virtue is an interest that we can pursue as part of
our culture. It is my hope that we can find such resources within the culture,

resources that can be retrieved and that will allow us to see moral character as
a central concern of our literary cultural tradition. But we must also ask
whether these resources are forceful and clear enough to counter the isolation
and conflict that seem increasingly to mark the identity of people today and
their relations to others, to their own constitutions and circumstances, and to
their future.
c harac te r 119
6

PLEASURE
With all its stress on self-sacrifice, the Christian life may look at first glance
like a pretty dour affair. But, despite his emphasis on the pain and sacrifice that
the transformation of character requires, Lewis is very much on the side of
pleasure. It is a recurring topic in his work. He says, for example, We have
had enough, once and for all, of Hedonismthe gloomy philosophy which
says that Pleasure is the only good. But we have hardly yet begun what may be
called Hedonics, the science or philosophy of Pleasure.1 Screwtape gives us
some indication of the importance of pleasure when he scolds Wormwood
for allowing the patientto engage in several enjoyable activities.2 Screwtape
also thinks that one of the really solid achievements of hell was to convince
Western culture that the Puritans were joyless.3 Lewis discusses pleasure ex-
tensively in The Four Loves, but it receives its fullest treatment in Perelandra.We
will gather the sundry points that he makes about pleasure and outline the in-
cipient theory of pleasure in his work. We will then try to account for why
pleasure is an important theme for him.
A corollary to Lewiss treatment of pleasure is his often expressed view
that modern society, for all its stress on exuberance, is not a garden of earthly
delights at all. Rather, it tends to produce the sort of austere and humorless
world that N.I.C.E. creates in That Hideous Strength. His theory of pleasure
leads him implicitly to claim that a Christian account of the world, despite its
ascetic ingredients and its stress on sacrifice, gives greater place to pleasure,
121
understands it more fully, and promotes it more effectively than do its secular
counterparts.
There are three reasons why the topic of pleasure is consistent with
Lewiss overall project. The first is that pleasure draws the attention of a person
outward toward something external. It counters self-preoccupation. To take
pleasure in something is to acknowledge and experience the value of some-
thing outside oneself. This is particularly true of unexpected pleasures and of
pleasures that do not satisfy recognized needs. In The Four Loves he uses the ex-
ample of being suddenly aware of a pleasant aroma.4 But even need-based
pleasures, such as the delight a thirsty person takes in a drink of water, orient a
person outward. Even anticipated or expected pleasures can direct attention
away from self toward appreciation for something beyond.Although we might
think of pleasure as drawing attention to an inward state or response, it is most
itself when it does not do that. Pleasure holds the potential for making us
aware of our relation to a larger world for which we should be and are grateful.
Pleasure is thus consistent with Lewiss larger project because he is eager to
counter the tendency of modern people to be self-preoccupied.
Pleasure is also consistent with Lewiss overall project because it militates
against the common assumption that there is a gap between us and what lies
outside us, between values and facts, and between things and peoples under-
standing of them. In moments of pleasure a person is aware of the continuity
between his or her evaluation of something and its pleasurable characteristics.
A thirsty person who drinks water does not think that the delight water brings
is projected by the person on it. The person thinks that the water is a very good
thing indeed. Experiences of pleasure, then, like the experiences of the sub-
lime to which Lewis repeatedly calls our attention, cause the gap that we as-
sume exists between things or events and our evaluation of them to disappear.5
The third reason pleasure is consistent with Lewiss overall project is that
it allows for edification, for an upwardly directed and expanded sense of the
world. The thirsty person does not think of the water in a detached or re-
duced way, as having a certain weight, volume, or molecular constitution, for
example. Rather, the water becomes the occasion of refreshment and restora-
tion. Because of the pleasure that the water brings, the person has a newly re-
alized appreciation of the world.
We begin to see why the topic of pleasure is so important for Lewis. It
would be difficult to find three interests more central to Lewiss project than
these. He wants very much to counter self-preoccupation, to counter the idea
that there is a gap between persons and what lies outside of them, and to
counter the tendency to define things in ways that reduce and simplify them.

Since pleasure aids all three of these interests, it generates great force and sig-
nificance in his work.
Now that we have seen the relation of pleasure to Lewiss overall project,
we should look more closely at his theory of pleasure. First, we should see
why pleasure is edifying. Second, we should examine the relation of pleasure
to other positive experiences, especially to joy, to gaining knowledge, and
to reading. Finally, we should see how and why pleasure is distorted in mod-
ern culture.
I
First, why are pleasures edifying? There are three reasons. To begin with,
pleasures draw us into a larger and more abundant world. A person recog-
nizes that the world supports him or her, is even fulfilling. This is why Screw-
tape wants his nephew to keep the patient from enjoying something for its
own sake, precisely to keep him from thinking that there exists outside his
own interests and needs a world of significance and delight into which he can
be drawn and for which he can be grateful. A person who has been drawn
into that larger and more abundant world may become vulnerable to reli-
gious attitudes.
Pleasures are also edifying because they provide occasions for a person to
be more him- or herself. In moments of genuine pleasure a person has a richer
sense of identity than usual because the occasion of pleasure awakens an un-
recognized potential to appreciate the delight. Brought to the surface by a
pleasurable moment is something that heretofore was only latent. The discov-
ery in the moment of pleasure is double-sided; in pleasure there is at the same
time both recognition of the external, pleasurable entity or event and of the
internal capacity to recognize and benefit from it. Pleasure, rather than sub-
jecting the internal to something from outside, allows the internal to be awak-
ened and released in the pleasurable moment. Pleasure is a compound formed
by the value of the external object and the awakened potential within the per-
son to respond appreciatively to it.
Third, pleasures are edifying because they are not closed and self-con-
tained. Pleasurable moments, rather, open outward to yet higher possibilities
because they suggest even greater fulfillment. So, in the midst of a highly en-
gaging and energizing conversation, one of the participants might say,Oh, if
only John and Janet were here, how they would enjoy this and how we would
enjoy having them be a part of it. Such a statement does not express dissatis-
faction, as though the occasion is deficient because John and Janet are absent.
p leasure 123
No, it expresses a recognition that the occasion is on a kind of track that
could be extended, that points outside the occasion to something more.
Others, if the statement is on target, will not be offended, as if their presence
left something to be desired, but will endorse the insight enthusiastically.
They will say that yes, indeed, John and Janet would have enjoyed this occa-
sion; they would have added something valuable to it, and its a pity they are
not here with us. Again, the observation in no way detracts from or threatens
the enjoyment; rather, it recognizes the outward, expansive direction of the
moment and celebrates the fullness of the occasion by indicating how it
opens itself to something more.
Pleasures are edifying, then, because they direct a persons attention away
from self and toward something outside, because they awaken a latent capacity
in the person to appreciate the pleasure, and because they point beyond them-
selves to a yet more fulfilling and desirable pleasure.Another way of saying this
is that pleasure when it is most itself is a gift. This could be put the other way
around. Giving and receiving gifts carry the most potential for being occa-
sions of pleasure. In contrast, pleasures that are planned, even more, pleasures
that are controlled, tend to be less like pleasures, tend, indeed, to turn pleasure
into something else.
II
Now that we have seen the constitutive ingredients of pleasure, we can com-
pare it with several other positive experiences or moments in human life to
which Lewis also attaches significance. One of these is joy, which he ad-
dresses most fully in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy. Joy is the exhilarating
moment when one is drawn out of oneself by the lure of something grander,
higher, and elusive. Awakened by joy are deep desires and potentials in a per-
son, of which the person was not previously aware.And joy also contains an el-
ement of pain, a sense that there is a level of participation in something more
or something other that cannot now be attained or received. Joy, a topic on
which several readers of Lewis comment,6 has a similar structure as pleasure
but is a more specific and intense experience. Pleasures are more common,
more precisely oriented, and more physical than are experiences of joy.
I think that it is both possible and important to follow Lewiss theory of
pleasure in a contrary direction, that is, to less exceptional and engrossing ex-
periences than joy. I think Lewiss scattered comments on pleasure suggest his
incipient epistemology, a theory, that is, of knowledge and how we come to
know things. Lewis, as we have seen, attacks dominant, modern epistemolo-

gies because they tend to assume a gap between minds and what lies outside of
them. But Lewis does not offer an explicit alternative to the modern episte-
mologies that he in general rejects.While he is clear that he rejects the notion
of a gap between internal and external, or mind and reality, he does not directly
apply his relational model to epistemological questions. But if we take pleasure
as our guide, we can infer what that epistemology would be like. I think we can
conclude that for Lewis coming to know something is an event in which the
nature and meaning of something and the persons capacity to recognize or
comprehend them arise mutually and simultaneously. Knowing something is
an event when the latent relation of subject and object is actualized. To put it
differently, the event of knowing something is one in which the continuity be-
tween the subjective and the objective, a continuity that potentially is already
there, becomes conscious and is confirmed. This is why learning and knowing
are pleasurable experiences. Learning or knowing something is an event that
affirms the fundamental relationship that we have with what lies outside of
ourselves. Gaining knowledge expands both us and our world, and that expan-
sion gives pleasure. Finally, gaining knowledge is pleasurable because it kindles
our awareness that the world in which we find ourselves beckons us both to
learn more about it and to be enriched by that process.
Joy, pleasure, and knowing have, then, similar structures. All three direct
attention away from self, reveal the relation between something external to
the internal capacities to know and appreciate it, and point beyond the occa-
sion to something higher, something yet more significant and fulfilling. Plea-
sure, as a more general category of experience, stands between joy, which is
more intense and infrequent, and knowledge, which is a more ordinary kind
of experience. All have the potential of expanding human life by placing a
person in a larger and more meaningful world. That world is one in which the
person belongs and into which he or she is incorporated.
It is important to an understanding of Lewis to ask at this point whether
his theory of reading is to be related to his theories of joy, pleasure, and know-
ing. In my opinion, it is. Remember that one of the pleasures that Worm-
woods patient enjoys and which makes Screwtape so nervous is reading a
book. Perhaps his theory of reading, lodged principally in his somewhat elu-
sive An Experiment in Criticism, seems less important to Lewis than his theories
of joy, pleasure, and knowing because he took it more for granted. Today
reading has become the site of controversy in contemporary literary and cul-
tural studies that it was not half a century ago. I think that Lewiss theory of
reading provides an interesting alternative to the theories that constitute the
present debates, theories determined by the subject/object split.
p leasure 125
The first thing to recognize is that reading has for Lewis a relational qual-
ity similar to the experiences of joy, pleasure, and knowing. This means that
reading is not only something that the reader does but also something that
happens to the reader. As Bruce L. Edwards says, summarizing Lewis on read-
ing,literature consists of a transaction that occurs between the literary reader
and the offered work. The vital evaluative dimension of the literary world is
retained in the literary reader. Literature happens, exists only in this transac-
tion, which Edwards later describes as the interaction of the received work
with the literary reader.7 In the transaction between the reader and the text,
the reader makes the first move by placing him- or herself in a vulnerable po-
sition relative to the text. As Lewis says in An Experiment in Criticism,In love,
in virtue, in the pursuit of knowledge, and in the reception of the arts, we are
doing this [i.e., correcting the confinement of the self and healing its loneli-
ness]. Obviously this process can be described either as an enlargement or as a
temporary annihilation of the self.8 This is strong language. It means that in
reading a person puts him- or herself as much as possible in a position of self-
and world-abjection. That move is crucial to the reception of and into a larger
world and a new sense of the self that reading can provide. Lewis continues,
But that is an old paradox;he that loseth his life shall find it.Lewis uses not
just religious language but words from the Gospel to illuminate what he
means by reading.
Lewiss theory of reading, in my opinion, though not fully fleshed out, is
potentially more adequate than the theories that divide participants in recent
literary canon debates. Those largely fall into two groups. The first, usually
claiming to uphold the tradition, contends that the text determines reading;
the other, shaped by reader-response and relativist theories, contends that the
text is constructed by the act of reading it.9 These alternative positions cash
out as contraries, the one objective and the other subjective, and current read-
ing theories, despite disclaimers and refinements, find their homes on either
one or the other side of this divide. Lewis offers an alternative position, one
that I would argue is more consistent with the tradition of reading than either
of its present-day alternatives. It is basically relational, and both sides are re-
quired, the text and the reader. It is a theory that may carry possibilities for
avoiding the impasses that stymie the current debate.
The first thing to remember about An Experiment in Criticism is that it
does not begin with the modern assumption of a break or even opposition be-
tween subjects who read and the texts that they read. This lack of agreement
in Lewis with the assumptions that govern the continuing debate may explain
why Lewiss theory seems elusive. But once it is recognized that we are always

already in actual and potential relations with things in our world, especially
with texts, we can see what a right reading is. Reading, as with Lewiss under-
standing of joy, pleasure, and knowing, is right when the force and signifi-
cance of a text coincide with the readers awakened capacity to recognize and
be affected by them.10 A good reading is one in which reading actualizes po-
tentials in both the text and the reader.
There is for Lewis, then, a shared structure to such positive moments in
human life as pleasure, joy, gaining knowledge, and reading. This shared
structure is one by which a person is drawn outside the boundaries of self into
a larger, more significant situation. The self is awakened in its capacity to rec-
ognize the significance of that situation and becomes aware that the situation
stands open, so to speak, at its far end to yet more significant possibilities. This
is why Lewis can begin the crucial sentence on reading with a catalog of posi-
tive experiences:In love, in virtue, in the pursuit of knowledge and in the re-
ception of the arts, we are doing this,he says; that is, we are countering con-
tainment within the self. All of these moments require the temporary
annihilation of the self.11 As he also says, The first demand any work of art
makes upon us is surrender. Look. Listen. Receive. Get yourself out of the
way.12 And this initial stance is not trumped by the plea that one is actively
trying to derive a moral benefit from reading. This also can come only when a
removal of the self has first occurred: Attention to the very objects they
[novels and poems] are is our first step. To value them chiefly for reflections
which they may suggest to us or morals we may draw from them, is a flagrant
instance of using instead of receiving.13 The temporary annihilation of
the self is an unavoidable part of a process by which an enlivened and ex-
panded self arises.
Lewiss theory of these positive experiences, particularly since he uses
recognizably religious language to describe them, may sound excessive. One
may question whether Lewis, by attributing to intellectual and aesthetic ex-
periences postures and transformations that resemble those associated with
religious acts, is granting to reading, let us say, the kind of attitudes that
should be reserved for prayer.14 This question goes to the very root of Lewiss
project. He posits continuity, a positive relation, between certain human ex-
periencesvirtue, love, joy, gaining knowledge, pleasure, or appreciation of
a textand loving God. And he can do that because he sees in all of them a
similar structure, a way in which a person gets free of an old self or small
world and receives a reconstituted self and a larger world. All, from the very
lowest or simplest, like drinking a glass of water, to the very highest and most
complex, like praying, reveal a similar structure. All reveal, as Lewis says, an
p leasure 127
old paradox;he that loseth his life shall save it.15 Lewiss answer to the ques-
tion of whether he is giving too much importance to reading, making it look
similar to acts of worship, would be, I think, that reading, like the other posi-
tive experiences it resembles, opens up on the far side. These experiences be-
come substitutes for religious acts only when they are closed off. It is not pos-
sible, for Lewis, to think too highly of things or to enjoy things too much.
Problems arise only when the things of which one thinks highly or enjoys are
taken as self-contained and self-sustaining or when experiences of pleasure
merely result in enhanced interest in ones self as the receiver of the occa-
sioned enjoyment.16
Implicit in Lewiss theories of reading, knowing, pleasure, and joy is a
confidence in the deep and often unrecognized needs that operate in peoples
lives often without their awareness.While it is risky to shift attention from the
things that occasion pleasure to the desire for pleasure, we should note his af-
firmation of human desires. This repertoire of desires not only enables a per-
son to recognize moments of pleasure but also directs the person outward in
search of fulfillment to those desires. It is as though one has within a bank of
receptors, like those that scientists have deployed in the hope of picking up
messages from outer space, receptors directed outward in the hope of a signal.
Although moderns have disenchanted the world, isolated consciousness from
it, and defined themselves as exceptions to it, they still have a hope that they
are not alone in the universe, that there is intelligent life out there. They de-
ploy expensive and sophisticated equipment in the pursuit of confirmations
of that hope. The desire not to be alone or abandoned but to be, as William
James put it, at home in the universe directs attention to the possibility of
rapport between ourselves and the larger world around us.
It is a damaging mistake to understand and to act on desires in ways that
reduce them to something less than what they are and point to. Desires are also
directives, and they direct a person outward toward potential moments of
genuine pleasure, that is, toward moments of rapport, of a new sense of rich-
ness in both world and self. But desires can lead in other than edifying or
transforming directions. Lewis is very aware of the tendency in modern cul-
ture to read desires as pointing to something less rather than to something
more than themselves. As he points out in Surprised by Joy, the experience that
he names joy will easily be mistaken for repressed or unrecognized sexual
desire, although sex may easily be a component in experiences of joy.17 To in-
terpret the desire for a pleasure that is potentially spiritual as really a disguised
desire for something solely physical is to distort and finally destroy the recep-

tors that should always be directing us outside our immediate needs to some-
thing else or something more.
Lewis believes that modern culture conditions people habitually to re-
duce and even to discount altogether the significance of things or events that
are seen positively and appreciatively. He describes the atmosphere of the
schools in which he was educated as training young men in sardonic and
ironic intellectual styles and personal attitudes.18 Lewis is sensitive to such at-
titudes for several reasons. They lead people to discount edifying experiences
and to distrust their own desires for and responses to joyful occasions. This ac-
celerates the corrosion of the culture by draining it of any resources it yet may
contain for directing the desires and potentials of persons toward what may be
both worthy of and challenging to them. Such dismissive and reductive atti-
tudes combine with forms of analysis, political and psychological, that treat
what is edifying or directed outward in experience with suspicion, as conceal-
ing or diverting attention from something beneath that is more real and self-
serving. This combination of popular attitude and scholarly method places a
devastatingly negative burden on the culture, and the unavoidable result will
be to erase the final vestiges of productive effects that the culture, in its last,
present stages, is still haltingly able to produce. Strange as it may seem, a cul-
ture can be evaluated, perhaps evaluated most effectively, by how it defines
pleasure, how much pleasure it provides, and by the pleasures that it prizes
most highly.
When a person has been trained to interpret an occasion of pleasure as in-
dicating something less rather than something more than itself, there can be
no expansion of the pleasurable situation. A good example of those dynamics
is Westons sardonic attitude toward Ransom on Perelandra when he finds that
Ransom has been alone with a beautiful, naked woman. Weston takes for
granted that Ransom has taken advantage of this situation and has engaged in
acts of sexual gratification with the woman. Ransom responds by saying that
while the situation is certainly sensual, its pleasures are not to be defined in
terms of sexual acts. Contained in Ransoms response is the suggestion that
in a truly pleasurable occasion, specific desires and pleasures can be dissolved
in and raised to more complex or higher states.19 The reader is led to conclude
that it would be anxiety or greed, the need to possess, that would propel a per-
son to, so to speak, cash in on the pleasurable potential of such a situation
by performing a sexual act. Ransom has not been compelled to do that be-
cause the situation has been reassuring and edifying.While being no less sen-
sual for want of sexual acts, the situation has called from Ransom the ability to
p leasure 129
suspend the desire for immediate gratification and to enter a more rather than
a less pleasurable state. That act Lewis refers to as transposition.20 Modern
people are so filled with anxiety and distrust and need so much to compensate
for that anxiety and distrust that they are quick to translate the potential for
pleasure in any situation into the immediate reassurance and possession of
physical gratification.
Lewis goes so far as to use the elevation of a sensual situation above a fo-
cused and physical sensual act as a metaphor for the resurrection of the body
and the life of the world to come.21 If, as moderns tend to do, we take all
pleasures as finding their seat in physical pleasures, and all physical pleasures as
focused on specific organs, then the notion of heavenly delights becomes for-
eign if not absurd to us. But the picture can be reversed. Physical pleasures can
become momentary glimpses into larger and more enduring states of pleasure
that can receive and sustain the person. If particular, especially physical, pleas-
ures defer to larger and more intensely pleasurable situations, then moments
of physical delight can reveal the life of the world to come.The eschatologi-
cal metaphors of the New Testament that present fulfillment as the marital
union between Christ and the church and as a final feast (Luke 13:29 and Rev-
elation 19:9, for example) provide the language for this transposition. Rather
than collapsing spiritual into physical experiences, the physical acts of sex and
eating are taken up into the language of the future and transcendence.When
so directed, these acts become not ends in themselves but means by which es-
chatological fulfillment is anticipated.
It is because we are conditioned to look for the cause of desires as below
or beneath them rather than as beyond or above them that we automatically
interpret pleasures as less than they appear to be. Consequently, pleasure has
the consequence not of securing our sense of relation to the larger, external
world but undermining it and our confidence in it.When we are taught that
our desires are not what they appear to be, or that they conceal interests which
we want to deny, our potential for relatedness to the world and to something
more beyond it is thrown into question. As a result, people turn to things and
people around them with undisciplined, insatiable, and undirected desire.
They disdain their world because they have devalued their desires and no
longer treat what they encounter with anticipation and gratitude for its po-
tential to raise desire to a genuinely pleasurable state. Because they have been
taught to reduce and distrust their desires, to interpret them in purely physi-
cal, psychological, or political/economic terms, moderns accordingly reduce
their worlds to those aspects of it that conform to this set of reductive terms.
As their own desires have been stripped and reduced, so they also strip and re-

duce their world, exposing what they think of as its true nature but is really a
projection of their own reduced sense of need and their own cynicism toward
the possibility of needs fulfillment.
Moderns not only increasingly disdain and distrust their world; they also
increasingly fear it. This is because they no longer treat their world as that to
which they are related, as an arena of possible edification, or as able to draw
and direct them to something more. Consequently, moderns, like people of
Narnia under the reign of King Miraz, inhabit a smaller or more reduced
world than do people in former or other cultures. They have grown distrust-
ful of their capacities and willingness to have pleasure, to be drawn out of
themselves into a world that they have not themselves provided. That distrust
produces fear of what lies beyond the immediate boundaries of a world that a
person subjects to his or her own reduced desires. Modern people are dogged
by fear and anxiety, and it is due to the greatly constricted world in which they
live. In Prince Caspian, the reign of King Miraz has fostered increasing skepti-
cism among the population concerning the stories of Aslan and his sacrificial
and redeeming act. This skepticism confines the attention of people to their
immediate surroundings. They increasingly distrust anything that they do not
themselves construct or understand. The result is a greatly reduced world.We
find a similar result of skepticism and reduction in the first two narratives of
the space trilogy. Ransoms characteristic and inhibiting attitude, one from
which he must be delivered if the process of sanctification is to be engaged, is
his fear. The academic culture of which Ransom is a part, because it fosters
skepticism, places persons in increasingly confined worlds, and Ransoms
journeys to other planets expand his sense of the world as they also reduce his
fear of the unknown.
III
Modernity is so successful in reducing and distorting human desire and pleas-
ure because pleasure, as Aristotle long ago made clear, contains the potential
for its own distortion. In any culture, desire and pleasure can be corrupted.
The destruction of the relation of desire and pleasure to the actualization
of human potential is no uniquely modern achievement, although modern
culture may outstrip others in the effectiveness of that destruction. The self-
preoccupation, materialism, and desire for power prevalent in modern culture
play directly into pleasures potential for its own subversion. That potential is
most apparent in the possibility of repeating pleasure and in the possibility of
manipulating ones world to produce occasions for pleasure.
p leasure 131
While on Perelandra, Ransom encounters many delightful things. One is
the unexpected and unprecedented sensual delight he experiences in drink-
ing from a gourd.It was like the discovery of a totally new genus of pleasures,
something unheard of among men, out of all reckoning, beyond all cove-
nant.Ransom is about to repeat the pleasure, but he realizes that he would do
so not because he was thirsty but because he wanted the pleasure again. But
for whatever cause, it appeared to him better not to taste again.22 Ransom
somehow recognizes that it would be better not to repeat it, and he goes so far
as to suggest that repetition and the desire for repetition endanger pleasure
and, perhaps, even constitute the root of evil. Ransoms decision not to repeat
the pleasure implies that he distances himself from the distortions of pleasure
by which moderns have been seized. For Lewis, we must conclude, repetition
is a potential threat to desire and pleasure, while for moderns repetition is a
principal, if not a defining, characteristic of desire and pleasure.
The thrust of Ransoms decision is this: to repeat the pleasure draws at-
tention and value away from the object of pleasure.What becomes the value is
the experience of pleasure, even more, the persons capacity for pleasurable
experiences. There is potentially, for Lewis, a contrary relation between en-
joyment and our consciousness that we are enjoying something: enjoyment
and the contemplation of our inner activities are incompatible, he says.23
This does not mean that self-consciousness and reflection are necessarily bad;
it is that they are potential contraries to enjoyment. This contrary relation be-
tween experience and our consciousness of experience must be respected in
regard to pleasure. The tendency will be to shift attention from the outward
occasion of the pleasure, which comes to us as a kind of gift, to the inner ca-
pacity for pleasure, which we can think of not as awakened by a gift but as self-
possessed. This, I say, is the first and deadly error, which appears on every
level of life and is equally deadly on all, turning . . . love into auto-eroticism.
And the second error is, having thus falsely made a state of mind your aim, to
produce it.24 When the state of mind or the capacity for pleasure becomes
the focus of attention and the center of value, the orientation has radically
shifted. Rather than being drawn into a larger world, the pleasure seeker be-
gins increasingly to draw the world into self and to reduce the world to the
terms of its pleasure-granting possibilities.
In addition, because the capacity to have pleasure is so valued, the person
turns toward the world as the means by which his or her capacity for experi-
encing pleasure is reaffirmed and fed. Such a person, furthermore, becomes
anxious as to whether this capacity may dwindle. The person looks for occa-

sionsindeed, constantly tries to create themthat will test whether the ca-
pacity to have pleasure is still intact, occasions, that is, when the person will be
delivered from the anxiety that the capacity may have weakened or disap-
peared. Repetition becomes obsessive because it must never end, can never be
enough. The more pleasures a person experiences, the more important the
capacity for having pleasure becomes and the greater the anxiety that the ca-
pacity may dwindle or be lost. That person is always trying to impose on the
world his or her need of occasions to test the capacity for experiencing pleas-
ure. Far from living in a world that is always surprising and expanding, far
from being able to be edified, and far from being edifying oneself, such a per-
son homogenizes and internalizes the entire world. It is not surprising, then,
that the search for pleasure and the need to repeat pleasures are characteristic
of a narcissistic culture and of people who turn their world into an arena of
gratification of their need for pleasure. In such a culture, pleasure is no longer
pleasure, no longer the moment when a person is drawn out of self to some-
thing more that is given. Instead, pleasure becomes the means by which anxi-
ety is temporarily relieved, the fear, that is, that it may not be true that the self
constitutes in and of itself a total world.
It is clear, I think, that Lewis is both alluding to Aristotle on pleasure and
departing from him in his analysis of what pleasure is and why it goes awry. In
the Nicomachean Ethics Aristotle treats the distortion of pleasure, as he
does the distortion of all good things, in terms of excess and deficiency. For
Aristotle a good thing is distorted when it is overdone or underplayed. Plea-
sure is distorted when it becomes excessive and when it is deficient. Excessive
pleasure Aristotle refers to as self-indulgence, while deficiency in pleasure
(which he says does not often occur) he refers to as insensibility.25
Lewis follows Aristotles discussion of pleasure on two crucial points. First,
he agrees with Aristotle in opposing both the excess of those who take pleasure
to be the only or highest good and the deficiency of those who take pleasure to
be dangerous or even bad.26 Second, he agrees with Aristotle that pleasure goes
bad when it turns into self-indulgence.
However, Lewis also differs from Aristotle at several points. First, Aris-
totle makes a clearer distinction than does Lewis between bodily and intel-
lectual pleasures, and Aristotle relates bodily pleasures more directly to the
distortion of pleasure than Lewis does. Lewis, if anything, is more attentive
to errors and excesses of the mind than to those of the body. Second, Aristo-
tle focuses attention on pleasurable activities, and Lewis shifts attention to
the objects or occasions of pleasure. This puts the weight on what is received
p leasure 133
by the person in pleasurable moments rather than on what the person does to
have pleasure. Finally, Lewis departs from Aristotle on the question of what
makes pleasure go bad.
Lewis agrees with Aristotle that pleasure goes bad when it turns into self-
indulgence. For Aristotle self-indulgence is bad primarily because it implies
excess. This form of excess is not simple, not merely too much of a good
thing. Other factors enter. First, self-indulgence is marked by the extraction of
pleasure from the activity.When this happensand for Aristotle it more often
happens with bodily than with intellectual pleasuresthe person will come
to value the activity for its pleasure instead of seeing the pleasure as dependent
on the character of the activity.27 Also, for Aristotle, the self-indulgent person
becomes conscious and deliberate in relation to pleasure. The self-indulgent
person justifies self-indulgence.28 These two factors, abstracting pleasure from
the activities that occasion it and indulging deliberately in excess with a sense
of excess as good, certainly turn self-indulgence into something other than
simple excess.
However, I think Lewis goes further and even changes course on self-
indulgence. It is not, for him, something primarily about excess. Self-indul-
gence is pleasure to which something has been done, something has been
added. The result is no longer pleasure but another thing altogether. Self-
indulgence is the opposite of pleasure.
Pleasure is no longer pleasure when attention shifts from the object of
pleasure to the self.When that happens pleasure turns into self-interest. Self-
indulgence is not excessive pleasure, then. For Lewis, pleasure cannot easily
be excessive. However, when attention shifts from the site of pleasure to the
self as the object of pleasure, we are no longer talking about pleasure. Under
the banner of pleasure, the self-indulgent person is drawing the world into the
self and reducing the world to that aspect of the self that needs most to be
gratified. Pleasure, in other words, has been replaced by power.
Pleasurable experiences are also distorted in modern culture because they
are detached from and seen as different in kind from experiences in general,
especially experiences involving other people. Our daily experiences of peo-
ple are commonly marked by opposition because we live in a society that
places persons in competitive relations to one another. The result is to view
others with hostility. Life is a zero-sum game. What someone else gets is
something that I forfeit. Since our relations to other people are marked not by
pleasure but by threat, experiences of pleasure with other people are excep-
tional. They have no relation with other experiences. They form a separate
category of experiences and have more relation to one another than to expe-

rience in general. On Malachandra, Ransom is surprised to learn that the
hrossa engage in sexual activity rarely even though they enjoy it very much.29
They do not engage in it often because the activity itself is much more inte-
grated with their ordinary experiences and their daily relationships. Since
their experiences with other people are pleasurable, they do not turn to dis-
tinctively pleasurable experiences as an alternative to daily life. On Malachan-
dra, anticipation and remembrance also help to integrate pleasurable experi-
ences into the everyday. That seems to be impossible in the world from which
Ransom has come because human relations on earth are antagonistic. Mo-
ments of pleasure, especially sexual pleasure, are fetishized, are abstracted
from ordinary life. They constitute a category that must be kept up to date.
Ransoms life on earth seems to have been a lonely one, isolated from human
relations or marked by relations that were merely external and competitive.
If it is the case that human relations are what Thomas Hobbes (15881679)
called a war of everyone against everyone else, then moments of pleasure must
be exceptional and, especially if they involve human intimacy, badly needed.
As a result, such moments become extraordinary and separate. This tends to
produce obsessive attitudes toward them. Added to culturally induced self-
preoccupation and the need to control, these conditions contribute greatly to
the distortion of pleasurable occasions and of our response to them. When
pleasurable occasions, especially those related to human intimacy, become
oases on a battleground of human antagonism, their force and meaning are
changed. The recent and quite popular film and novel The English Patient pro-
vides a striking illustration of this. The setting of the story is provided not only
by warfare but also by the north African desert, and the scenes of sexual inti-
macy are exceptional in relation to that setting both because they are separate
from the war and because they are associated with water.When moments of
pleasure have no connection with the rest of experience, they lose their signif-
icance as possible examplars or occasions when hitherto concealed aspects of
life are revealed. Moments of pleasure are important for Lewis not because
they are separate from other experiences but because they are related to them
and expose ways in which other experiences are related to one another.
Lewis ties the desire for repetition of pleasure to issues of power. In this
respect he joins a number of recent theorists.30 A person in a pleasurable situa-
tion has the strong sense of being dependent on something outside, some-
thing that he or she does not supply. The pleasurable situation, then, holds po-
tential power or authority, and the one whose desire has been awakened defers
to it. The dynamics of such an event are fraught with danger because the per-
son or people associated with it can exert that power, and the person whose
p leasure 135
desire has been awakened is vulnerable to subjugation. This possibility may
trigger a contrary move; the person whose desire has been awakened can try
to avoid a subservient role by subsuming the situation under his or her own
power. The impetus to do that comes not only from the desire not to be sub-
servient but also from the desire for repetition. If the person who desires has
become anxious about the ability to have pleasure and needs that ability con-
firmed, it becomes paramount for that person to create and control pleasura-
ble situations. Finally, control provides its own gratifications because control
enables a person to transform what is outside into something inside, into his
or her own image. Control, whether over others who desire or over situations
that can be forced into conformity with ones own desire, furthers the narcis-
sistic agenda which desire and pleasure can so easily be used to serve.
Lewis emphasizes repetition as a form of pleasures distortion not, I think,
because repetition is itself distortion. Reading, for example, is not something
to be reserved for rare occasions. And Lewis also regularly participated in
Christian liturgical and sacramental acts. Rather, repetition distorts because it
is so easily related to power and to the desire to manipulate the world.When
Ransom in Perelandra identifies repetition as the source of evil he remembers
that the love of money has traditionally been described as the root of evil. But,
he concludes, money may be tied to repetition.31 And, indeed, it is. Money
represents the power to subject situations to control. Money greatly expands
our capacity to turn our world toward our needs so that our world will con-
firm our capacity to have pleasure as well as our ability to shape situations in
such a way that we can take from them the pleasure that we need. The power
of money becomes irresistible because it is driven by an anxiety that is cut
loose from any possible source of its alleviation. One can never have enough
power either to satisfy the need for occasions that confirm ones ability to have
pleasure or the need for power sufficient to turn the world into a reflection of
ones own desires.
The final state of pleasure distorted by anxiety, self-preoccupation, and
power has some characteristics of what we would recognize as addiction, al-
though Lewis does not use that word. Indeed, his description not only of dis-
torted pleasure but of evil more generally often recalls addiction. Someone
in advanced stages of pleasure-distortion manipulates his or her world to
provide the experience that quiets anxiety by means of the familiar and now
necessary feeling of pleasure. Such a person also thinks of every situation in
terms of that possible yield. This results in a sharply reduced and focused in-
terest and produces repetition as simple monotony. More and more of the
persons interests become defined by and confined to the gratification of that

need and nothing, finally, is too much to sacrifice to it. While the addict
seems to be dependent on something elsealcohol, gambling, sex, being
noticed, or power, let us sayhe or she is primarily oriented not to some-
thing else but to the insatiable internal need to reconfirm and reinforce the
self that has become the sole object of interest. It is not surprising, then, that
the narrator of Perelandra refers to Weston, that incarnation of evil, as having
an intoxicated will.32 We are also told that Mark, as he is more fully seduced
by the evil empire of N.I.C.E. in That Hideous Strength, becomes more de-
pendent on alcohol: Luckily he now kept a bottle of whisky in his room. A
stiff one enabled him to shave and dress.33 And Uncle Andrew in The Magi-
cians Nephew, who is absorbed by the prospect of the power that magic can
bring him, is a closet drinker.
IV
How can we keep occasions of pleasure from turning our attention to our ca-
pacity for pleasure and to our need, born in anxiety, to confirm and reinforce
that capacity? The first thing to say is that a pleasurable situation, if truly pleas-
urable, will be recognized as authoritative because it awakens desire and offers
fulfillment; but its authority, rather than residing in itself, will be recognized as
derived from something beyond it. Pleasurable situations point beyond them-
selves. One does not attribute the desirability of a pleasurable occasion to his
or her own designs or even to the occasion itself, although designs and the oc-
casion may be integral to it. A truly pleasurable situation will have characteris-
tics that cannot be reduced to planning or the enumeration of its ingredients.
There is something irreducibly gratuitous in a pleasurable situation. Attempts
to repeat and to control pleasurable occasions deny this crucial ingredient.
Even more, truly pleasurable occasions point beyond themselves to some
greater possibility, defer to a higher level of delightif only John and Janet
were here! That is, the authority and power of a pleasurable occasion arise not
only from its gratuitous quality but also from something beyond the occasion
that is both a presence and a lackif only John and Janet . . . !
It becomes clear, now, why moderns are so deprived of pleasure. There is
little cultural support for recognizing that the direction of pleasure is outward
and upward. The culture supports the direction of pleasure as downward and
inward. To recognize the quality of pleasure, we have to counter the cultural
habits of reducing occasions of pleasure, of defining them in terms of gratify-
ing chronic needs, of using them to confirm the ability to have pleasure, and
of controlling them in order to make them conform to self-interest and the
p leasure 137
desire to possess. There can be no pleasure, and, a fortiori, there can be no joy,
true knowledge, or good reading for people conditioned by such habits.
One sees the end results of the modern distortions of pleasure in the be-
havior of Weston. On Perelandra Ransom comes upon Weston mutilating
small, frog-like creatures. It is a behavior marked by repetition and control.
Weston takes it as a pleasure that Ransom will find irresistible, and his conspir-
atorial grimace toward Ransom is an invitation to join in. But Ransom is not
seduced into mistaking the kind of unity that Weston offers in this perverse
pleasure for the shared world of participants in occasions of genuine pleasure.
Westons version of pleasure offers a unity determined by the language and
dynamics of power, reduction, repetition, and homogeneity.
Another example is, of course,Our Father Belowin The Screwtape Let-
ters. He is the consummate narcissist, the one who wants to reduce the entire
world to himself, who, indeed, wants to devour it. Hell, the great perversion
of pleasure, is subjected to a single desire and power.And all who enter his do-
main and are finally absorbed by his insatiable appetite recognize that they
have not only done what they should not have done but also what they did not
desire. They have denied their own desires and allowed them to be directed
toward the great maw. The narcissist who represses the desire for something
fulfilling outside the self and tries to achieve fulfillment by drawing the world
into the self is actually being devoured by the great, insatiable emptiness.
Genuine pleasure is received as a gift. Another way of saying this is that
gifts are potentially the greatest source of pleasure. Unfortunately, most of our
gift giving today is obligatory. It is marked by routine and troweled into our
socially determined exchanges.We give because we think it is expected. But
although our gift giving and receiving are housed within routines and sched-
ules, we continue to feel excitement about the prospect of giving or receiving
a gift.And the reason is that we have had the experience of receiving a gift that
we did not know we needed or wanted until it was received. The gift awak-
ened the need and desire. That moment of reception and recognition is a high
pleasure. It is the kind of pleasure of which ultimately the Christian faith
speaks. It speaks of and offers gifts of grace. Those gifts create or awaken in the
recipient as no others can an awareness that all of the desires aroused before by
pleasures find their fulfillment in a particular gift. We recognize for the first
time what it was all along that we desired and what, finally, delights.34
It is not possible to move directly from a culture of self-preoccupation, of
life as battle, and of power into the Christian language of gift and grace. If
one were to attempt that, the language of gift and grace would become just
another way of being important, being different, or being self-preoccupied.

What is required first of all is the willingness to receive, to acknowledge, and
to defer to what lies outside the selfthings, events, and people. It is in and
through relations that a self is given.What is required first of all is a remedy for
those habits that prevent us from wanting to be edified and from anticipating
and appreciating pleasures as gifts. And the form that remedy can take is the
recognition of the primary relations that we should have to the context of
our lives.
That context in our own culture has three components. There is a rela-
tion with the so-called natural context of our lives, those events and entities
that we take as constituting reality. There is our relation to other people, who,
whether we like it or not, are different from us. And there is our relation to
models of a more just and peaceful common life. When we live in terms of
these primary relationships we can have moments of genuine pleasure. Only
because we experience moments of genuine pleasure can we begin to under-
stand the language of religion in general and of Christianity in particular.
p leasure 139
7

CELEBRATION
While considering pleasure we looked primarily at the gifts of grace and the
states they create as they affect particular persons. Pleasure, as we saw, actual-
izes the potential in a person for uniqueness.When we turn to celebration the
emphasis falls on the communal side of the gifts and states of grace.We shall
have to see that the communal qualities of grace do not compromise particu-
larity and that particularity anticipates a communal setting.
Celebration is mainly a matter of relations. The shadow sides of the rela-
tions that characterize celebration are difference, opposition, and antagonism.
Such shadow sides are especially apparent in victory celebrations.We will have
to examine the relation of celebration to competition, conflict, and warfare.
Which of the two is more important? Is conflict basic to human life, and cele-
brations occasional and exceptional moments of respite in a constant situation
of strife? Or is celebration basic, and warfare occasional and strategic?
Celebration may seem to play a secondary role in Lewiss work. Struggle,
violence, and warfare are the stuff of his plots. Ransom tracks Weston to the
fiery pit and, after a long, exhausting struggle, kills him in the name of the
Trinity, crushing his head with a stone. Strong stuff! In That Hideous Strength
the domain of N.I.C.E., which has strengthened its position by acts of public
violence and internal repression, is finally overthrown by the forces unleashed
from St. Annes and the hidden powers that Ransom has contacted. Even the
Narnia Chronicles, childrens stories, recount many bloody conflicts. And
these are not isolated moments in the fictions. They culminate stories that
141
begin in opposition and end in final battles. Confrontations between protago-
nists and their adversaries are central, and the only way to resolve these con-
flicts seems to be a battle to the death.
In these stories battle is often followed by a celebration. The most impor-
tant characteristic of a victory celebration is that it occurs at someone elses
expense. After Peter defeats the wicked Miraz, a celebration breaks out:And
so at last, with leaping and dancing and singing, with music and laughter and
roaring and barking and neighing, they all came to the place where Mirazs
army stood flinging down their swords and holding up their hands, and Peters
army, still holding their weapons and breathing hard, stood round them with
stern and glad faces.1 Things really get lively when Bacchus, Silenus, and the
Maenads join the party and begin dancing. It turns into not merely a dance
for fun and beauty (though it was that too) but a magic dance of plenty, and
where their hands touched, and where their feet fell, the feast came into exis-
tencesides of roasted meat that filled the grove with delicious smell, and
wheaten cakes and oaten cakes, honey and many-colored sugars and cream as
thick as porridge and as smooth as still water, peaches, nectarines, pomegran-
ates, pears, grapes strawberries, raspberriespyramids and cataracts of fruit.
Then, in great wooden cups and bowls and mazers, wreathed with ivy, came
the wines; dark, thick ones like syrups of mulberry juice, and clear red ones
like red jellies liquefied, and yellow wines and green wines and yellow-green
and greenish-yellow.2 Lewis spares nothing in elaborating the extent and
vigor of the celebration.
However, a victory celebration always occurs at the expense of someone
else, and there is something unseemly about celebration at someone elses ex-
pense. For good reason, coaches teach young athletes to refrain from celebra-
tions that draw attention to the defeat of the opposing team or person. Cele-
bration that is occasioned by the defeat of an enemy not only occurs at the
opponents expense but also depends on having an opponent to defeat. Does
Lewis give such importance to enemies, conflicts, and victories?
I will argue that, for Lewis, celebration, rather than derived from and de-
pendent on something else, is basic to the Christian life. Conflict plays, rela-
tive to celebration, a secondary and strategic role.
I
Celebration in Lewis refers to and is based on the relations anchored in Cre-
ation. These relations are inclusive. Celebrations are therefore not limited to
people; animals and plant life are also included.What are celebrated are the re-

lations that we humans have with one another and with nonhuman and even
nonliving creatures around us. These relations are not superficial.And they are
not occasional. These relations are always there, although sometimes, perhaps
most of the time, they are occluded. These relationsand not defeat of an
enemyoccasion celebration.
The relations that we have with other people and with the creatures and
events of our world are not only inclusive; they are also basic, just as basic as
our sense of being particular persons.3 Our being particular persons and our
state of being in primary relations with other people and with other creatures
in our world cannot be divorced from one another.
Thirdly, the relations warranted by Creation are internal. That is, they are
not simply contractual or constructed; they are relations of continuity, like
those among members of a family.When Christians refer to others as brothers
and sisters, this is no euphemism or hyperbole. Christians even refer to animals
as family membersthink of St. Cuthbert and St. Francis, for example. That
kind of talk makes sense because of what Christians believe about primary re-
lations with other people and creatures. Lewis assumes and affirms all of that.
Celebration is an occasion when particularity and relations with others,
human and nonhuman, are seen not as contraries but as supportive of one an-
other.We tend to think of celebrations as group occasions, and we do not take
adequately into account how important particular people are for them. In
fact, celebrations, particularly in the common form they take for us, namely
parties, are occasions that are designed to dissolve the differences between
people by subsuming individuality to some kind of group behavior. On col-
lege campuses the very genius of parties seems to be this loss of particularity.
Students, who daily are exposed to comparisons with others and to competi-
tion for recognition and grades, seem to require parties where, primarily
through intoxication, individuals are allowed to enter some state that resem-
bles a least common denominator. In contrast, we have other celebrations at
which a person or a few selected people are honored, such as birthday cele-
brations or award ceremonies. We immediately recognize celebrations of
these two kinds, those that absorb particularity into the group and those that
exalt particularity. But we are not accustomed to thinking of celebrations as
occasions when both the potential of a person and of a group are simultane-
ously actualized.
In Lewis, celebration is of this complex kind because celebration, when
most itself, is celebration of the Creation. It is because Narnia was created
by Aslan that celebrations in the Narnia Chronicles actualize the potential
of particular and communal at the same time. Positive, even harmonious,
c e le b rat i on 143
relations characterize Creation. Indeed, Creation in Lewis pertains more to
relations than to origins. This is clear in The Magicians Nephew when the story
of the creation of Narnia is told. Narnia comes to birth in response to music.
This means that the structure of its relationships, despite the complexity of
the structure and the many kinds of creatures that are related to one another, is
harmonious. As Lewis writes,All things are relatedrelated in different and
complicated ways. But all things are not one.4 The contribution of each par-
ticular is crucial for the completion of the whole, and the whole itself is a par-
ticular that, so to speak, sings a certain song.
It is important to notice that Lewis depicts the creation of Narnia as tak-
ing place without a conflict. In this he is faithful to the Creation accounts in
Genesis. Unlike the cosmogonic stories of many other cultures, the biblical
Creation stories are not marked by combat. The waters that precede the Cre-
ation in Genesis could be seen as a kind of opposition to be overcome, a kind
of natural resistance. But then look atYahwehs description of Creation in the
Book of Job. There the waters that precede the Creation are described as a
kind of child that needs to be contained (Job 38:111). This text also validates
Lewiss introduction of music during the Creation.
Because celebrations are based on the positive relations established in
Creation, they are for Lewis not exceptions to the rest of life but epitomes of
it. They bring into focus what is always the case, namely, that people are in
relationships with one another and with the nonhuman creatures around
them. To put it another way, celebration is a quality of all good and creative
actions. For all of Lewiss stress on particularity and its actualization, there is
an equal stress on or an equally important assumption of basic, substantial,
and positive relations.
The stress on the relational quality of life seems to come to the fore grad-
ually in his work. In Surprised by Joy, he emphasizes, as male autobiographers
often do, the process of his individuation. Relationships are depicted as occa-
sions toward greater individuation. This may also reflect the fact that Lewis
worked in a philosophic tradition that stresses particulars rather than their re-
lations. In The Abolition of Man, for example, he stresses moral training and the
moral life primarily in individual terms, as, for example, aligning a persons
energies and rationality or relating the subjective and objective sides of a per-
sons experience to one another.
But it becomes clear that moral health is relational as much as it is partic-
ular. In That Hideous Strength, Mark and Jane come to recognize that the reju-
venation of their lives lies not in their competitive individuality but in the
mutuality of their marital relations. More important, perhaps, St. Annes

itself, the community of people and animals, is a celebration waiting to hap-
pen. This is true even though those who make up the community are all quite
different from one another. Lewis makes this clear when, using the analogy of
a family to describe human relations, he says, If you subtract any one mem-
ber you have not simply reduced the family in number, you have inflicted an
injury on its structure. Its unity is a unity of unlikes, almost of incommensu-
rables.5 In the Narnia Chronicles, community, in terms of the siblings who
play the major roles, the cooperation of characters with one another, and the
relations of the children with animals and plants, is also emphasized. Ed-
munds evils are not limited to the distortion of pleasure by his desire to have
an unlimited access to Turkish Delight. More important is his betrayal of the
other children. Reincorporation within the community is a sign of his for-
giveness and restoration.
It is in The Four Loves, however, that Lewis addresses the relational charac-
ter of human life most fully. He defines four kinds of relationships not only to
distinguish them from one another and to establish their relative order but also
to affirm human life as basically relational. He presents affection, friendship,
and erotic love as recurring and beneficent forms of human relations that not
only point beyond themselves to charity, a fourth kind of relationship, but
find their fulfillment in charity; without charity, other forms of relationships
inevitably go awry. Charity, a love that pursues the well-being of the other, is
basic to celebration. Charity is not condescension but affirmation, not sacri-
fice but gift, not control but setting free. Charity counters self-preoccupation
because it takes delight in and cares for the other as particular, not as a means
but as an end, an end, however, that also becomes a means to find delight in
the ultimate source of both self and other. Charity, then, is the recognition of
a relation that already exists between a person and others.
Celebrations are like the tips of icebergs. They make us aware of a great
deal that is under the surface of life, namely, the basically relational character
of our being in the world. Far from being isolated, celebrations stand out be-
cause they relate to so much, they bring so much into view. They bring to
awareness what we know and want to be true, that we are related. As Lewis
says, If you could see humanity spread out in time, as God sees it, it would
not look like a lot of separate things dotted about. It would look like one sin-
gle growing thingrather like a very complicated tree. Every individual
would appear connected with every other.6 The doctrine of Creation is
more a doctrine of relations than a doctrine of origins. Celebrations are cele-
brations, finally, of the Creator whose creative act is a great and complex gift
of interrelationships.
The question to raise nowa question, I might add, that is as important as
it is difficultis whether celebration in Lewis refers not so much to Creation
as to Redemption and Atonement. Some Christian readers of this chapter, if
they have persisted this long, will have all along been raising an objection.
They have been thinking, No, what Christians celebrate is not the relations
that are constitutive of Creation but the new relations that are established be-
tween some people, between them and God, and between them and the wider
Creation by Redemption and Atonement. The original relations were broken
by the Fall and had to be replaced or restored by new ones. I think this reac-
tion would not be hard to find among Christian readers of Lewis.
This is the heart of the nature/grace question in Christian belief, and
Christians disagree on it. This disagreement has been exacerbated during our
own century. Many people, both religious and nonreligious, and many Chris-
tians, including artists and prominent theologians, were deeply influenced by
the disillusionment of the period after the First World War that was further ag-
gravated by the Second World War. People felt betrayed. They felt that the cul-
ture had failed to prepare them for the horrors of war, had deceived them
about what people are capable of doing to one another, and had concealed the
realities of the human condition. It was thought that now we see things as they
really are, stripped of the illusions of a liberal or humanist culture. Graham
Greene took a kind of delight in walking through bombed-out cities in Eng-
land during the Second War, for he could see buildings with the fronts torn off
and their rooms exposed. There was a sense that, like the facades of buildings
destroyed by bombs, the facade of culture had been stripped away to reveal the
realities of human life.
Even in the beginning of a new century, this attitude continues to deter-
mine many theological interests and debates. Although it is most fully articu-
lated in what is often referred to as neo-Barthian theology, current Christian
thought in general is strongly marked by the conviction that the language of
Redemption and Atonement must be the first, strongest, and last word in any
Christian account of things. The events of the last century, it is thought, have
revealed humans and their relations to be broken and lethal. And the only re-
sponse to this revelation is a language of grace that creates new and separate
communities of people in newly created relations. Such Christian spokesper-
sons feel antagonism both toward their surrounding culture and toward other
Christians who want still to affirm the doctrine of Creation and the viability
of human culture despite the effects of evil in general and the traumas of the
twentieth century in particular. In other words, this is not only an important
question; it is also a volatile one.

In my opinion, Lewis does not come down in support of neo-Barthians
and culture-war evangelicals on the Creation/Atonement issue. I say this
while remembering that Lewis served in the First World War, was wounded,
and joined the Allied effort during the Second World War by addressing troops
and, in enormously effective broadcasts, the English people. I also say this
while remembering how important warfare and struggle are in his work. And
in saying this I also want to insist that Lewis affirms Creation and culture with-
out becoming, as it is sometimes put, a knee-jerk liberal and without resorting
to sentimentality or nostalgia for an earlier Christian humanism that no
longer is possible. Finally, I think Lewiss position is a very strong one, worth
taking seriously into account.Which, I guess, is another way of saying that I
largely agree with it.
First of all, there is no doubt about the importance of Christology in gen-
eral or of the doctrine of Redemption in Lewis. The person and work of
Christ and their redemptive and atoning force and significance are unmistak-
able, as are also Lewiss insistence on the extent and power of evil in the world.
Evil is not something that human beings can overcome within themselves, in
their relations with others, or in the world at large. The force of evil and the
means to overcome it are most memorably depicted in the suffering and death
of Aslan in The Lion,the Witch and the Wardrobe.
It is interesting to notice, however, that the children do not dwell on the
sacrifice of Aslan. They know that it is grave, painful, and terribly significant,
but they do not try to understand it. Although Lucy insists that Edmund
should be told of the sacrifice of Aslan even though it will make him feel bad,
Susan and Lucy are reluctant to share with him what they have seen. To put it
another way, the event does not become the central theme of the Narnia
Chronicles. The conclusion we should draw from this, I think, is that for
Lewis the doctrine of Atonement, while basic, is not central in a Christian ac-
count of things.
There is something about all of this that is consistent with the Christian
doctrine of Atonement.What I mean is that Christians have never been able to
understand what the atonement was and entails. The doctrine of Atonement
is basic, but the atonement itself, what actually was going on there, has always
eluded Christians. As Lewis says,The central Christian belief is that Christs
death has somehow put us right with God and given us a fresh start. Theories
as to how it did this are another matter. A good many different theories have
been held as to how it works; what all Christians are agreed on is that it does
work. . . . Theories about Christs death are not Christianity: they are explana-
tions about how it works.7 This means that Christians cannot construct their
accounts of the world on an agreed-upon and clear understanding of the
atonement. The doctrine is unstable. Some Christians, for example, have un-
derstood the Atonement as a set of events by which Satan, who had gained
possession of human souls by reason of their sin, is paid off and the souls are
ransomed by the sacrifice of Christ. Other Christians have followed St.
Anselm, the eleventh-century bishop of Canterbury who, in his Cur Deus
Homo, developed the theory that by the sacrifice of Christ a debt was paid not
to Satan but to God. Gods requirement that righteousness be satisfied was met
by Christs perfect sacrifice. There are also moral-influence theories of atone-
ment which contend that the person and work of Christ are, in themselves, so
powerful and significant that they can, through contemplation, participation,
and imitation, have a transforming effect on the life of a person. This position
is often traced to Abelard (10791144), although it has had many variations.
Lewis, instead of choosing one doctrine of atonement, in one way or another,
affirms all three. He is not trying, it seems to me, to be ecumenical and avoid
taking sides on this question. Rather he is suggesting that the Atonement,
while basic, is not something that we can understand. This means that it can-
not be central to, cannot be the lynchpin of, a Christian account of the world.
The next question is whether the sacrifice of Christ and the doctrines of
Redemption and Atonement should be central in Christian consciousness. If
we cannot make it central to an account of the world because we cannot un-
derstand it, should we at least make it central to our consciousness, the way a
certain inexplicable injury or terrible loss can burn into our awareness? I think
the answer again is no.I hope that I can explain why. An analogy may help.
It is a very good thing for children to know that the home their parents
provide them does not simply fall from a tree. That home is the consequence
of considerable effort, sacrifice, and love. Parents should not conceal that fact
from their children. If children are not aware that it is not any easy thing to
provide a loving and secure home, they will be unprepared to encounter
those costs when they themselves set out to marry and have families. But
more than that, the truth of the situation will have been hidden from them.
They will live in an illusion. To conceal the truth from them is, in some im-
portant way, dishonest.
However, it would be mistaken and even cruel for parents to take every
possible occasion to rehearse for the children all of the sacrifices and costs they
have taken on to provide a home for them. Parents need not share with their
children all of their difficultiesunpleasant people at work, the cost of a new
roof, their own disputes and incompatibilities. Children need both to be

made aware of the costs and to be protected from exposure to the full extent of
those costs.
Another way to say this is that children, in their relation to their parents,
ought neither to be ignorant of the fact that their parents sacrificed for the
home that they enjoy nor should that sacrifice be a central or constant part
of their consciousness. They should neither take the home for granted nor
beat their breasts on account of their parents who, for their sake, have sacri-
ficed so much.
What would be healthy is this: Children would show their gratitude for
the sacrifices of their parents by enjoying and enhancing as much as possible
the life of the home that those sacrifices have made possible. And indeed,
good parents want nothing so much as that. Parents who support a child in
college, to use another example, want that child neither to ignore what it costs
them nor to dwell on it. They want the child to participate as fully and prof-
itably in the college experience as possible.
Like the children in the examples above, there tend to be two kinds of
Christians. There are those who take the world in which they find themselves
for granted. They have a doctrine of Creation, but they tend to think of the
world they enjoy as not having cost all that much. They take it, in that sense, as
natural. Then there are other Christians who constantly dwell on the cost.
When they think about themselves and their world, they think of the sacri-
fice, that the sacrifice was made for them, and that the sacrifice was unde-
served and painful. They feel guilty about everything they enjoy in the world
because they are thinking of the sacrifice, like children who cannot enjoy a
trip to the zoo because their parents had to pay an entrance fee. The present
state of things Christian, it seems to me, is that there are these two kinds of
people. There are those who enjoy the world and affirm human life or culture
in it but have little or no sense of sacrifice and atonement. And there are those
who are so attentive to sacrifice and atonement that they reject the world and
culture and retreat to isolated communities.
Lewis, it seems to me, offers a way out of this impasse. That way out is to
affirm the basic standing of the doctrine of Atonement but, at the same time,
not to make it central. As he says, Even so, the image [of the Crucifixion]
ought to be periodically faced. But no one could live with it. It did not be-
come a frequent motive of Christian art until the generations which had seen
real crucifixions were all dead.8 The way by which one affirms atonement is
to be aware of it, periodically to recognize the cost, and to be thankful for its
benefits. But also, and more so, one affirms the atonement by enjoying and
enhancing life in the world as much as possible, by affirming the Creation and
human culture that the atonement assures.
Now we can return to our original question. Is celebration in Lewis cele-
bration of the Atonement? The answer is both yes and no.Yes, in the sense that
there would be no creation to celebrate if the threat to primary relations had
not been undercut by the Atonement. No, in the sense that what is celebrated
is the world that the Atonement makes possible for us, the world, that is, of the
Creation, of our relations with other people and with nonhuman creatures.
II
The next thing we need to see is that Lewis, by positing celebration as basic to
life, counters a major emphasis of modern culture. Put most succinctly by
Thomas Hobbes, when he called human life a war of everyone with everyone
else, and given putative scientific basis in the social Darwinism of Herbert
Spencer (18201903), it is a recurring theme in modern culture that human
life is intrinsically agonistic and competitive.9 We tend to believe that we are
basically in a state of actual or potential warfare with one another and that it is
the principal role of law and government to keep that warfare from erupting
or getting out of hand.
In recent years the stress on conflict as basic to life has been intensified.
Perhaps because of the influence of such formative thinkers for postmod-
ernism as Marx, Darwin, Freud, and Nietzsche, conflict is a prominent theme
in postmodern theory. Jean-Franois Lyotard, a typical voice in such theory,
understands all human relations as basically agonistic. He says, for example,I
place them [speech acts] within the domain of the agon (the joust) rather than
that of communication.10 And Michel Foucault sees power and the will to
control as not merely inseparable from such cultural staples as language and
knowledge but also as their determining base.11 For all the emphasis on play-
fulness, pleasure, and freedom in postmodernist theory and styles, there is an-
other, grimly dominant theme. We are in a perpetual state of antagonistic
relations with other people and with the nonhuman extensions of our world.
Under the influence of such theories, life becomes a zero-sum game: your
gain is my loss. In this picture of human life, celebration can only be a distrac-
tion. The real business of life is conflict.
When life is defined as conflicted, celebrations occur at someone elses
expense. They are primarily victory celebrations that depend on the defeat of
a competitor or enemy. In this arrangement of things, not only does celebra-
tion become secondary and occasional; celebration becomes questionable,

even unseemly. For good reason contemporary athletes who play in public
arenas are often forbidden to engage in excessive celebration at their oppo-
nents expense.
If conflict is seen as basic to life, celebration can itself be suspect as serving
to conceal the real conflicts that lie at the base of society.We should view light-
heartedness, play, and celebration as distractions from a more basic, conflicted
state of affairs.All celebrations personal, institutional, national, and religious
must be seen as other than what they appear. Take, for example, Christmas,
which is so important in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. A case could be
made that Christmas is a celebration intended to hide the political and eco-
nomic differences, tensions, and conflicts that exist between groups of people
in a society. The Christmas crche, with its mingled shepherds and kings, it can
be argued, has the effect of hiding deep economic and political inequalities
and injustices and suppressing the possibly violent correction of these social
wrongs. Christmas is so popular because it conceals social inequities and injus-
tices. If human life is basically a conflict, celebrations like Christmas must be
seen as occasions sponsored by economic and political victors to keep the los-
ers from recognizing that the real situation is defined by unequal power and re-
pression. Such an explanation can as easily be given to national holidays. The
celebration of Memorial Day or Independence Day conceals the fact that
mortality in combat is not evenly distributed between social, economic
groups, and that freedom and justice are not equally available for all.
Applying these ideas to the Narnia Chronicles, we can ask if the many
celebrations that occur are victory celebrations. Do they occur at the enemys
expense? And do they actually conceal economic and political tension and in-
equality? What is the relation in Lewis of celebration to conflict and the defeat
of an enemy?
III
At first it may seem that Lewis agrees that conflict is basic to human life. One
could argue that he differs from most modern social theory only in that he
defines the nature of that conflict not as political and economic but as moral
and spiritual.
I do not think that Lewis agrees that life is basically conflicted. Lewis
does not separate moral and spiritual issues from material and visible ones.
More important, he affirms that life is primarily celebrative rather than ago-
nistic. It is conflict and warfare that are secondary and hide the real nature of
human life.
There appears to be abundant evidence to argue against my assessment of
Lewis. At a number of points he steps outside the dramatic needs of his plot to
remark explicitly on the conflicted nature of human life. In his autobiography,
reflecting on the tensions and conflicts of his school days, he says,To this day
the vision of the world which comes most naturally to me is one in which we
twoor we few. . . stand together against something stronger and larger.12 As
a schoolboy he retreated into the protection and relative peace of the library,
suggesting that the culture of texts offers some place apart from the harsh,
even brutal, realities of society. And warfare was the defining characteristic of
the world in which he emerged as a young scholar and did his most character-
istic and influential work.13
Not only the context but also the style of his work is marked by battle.
Lewis was a consummate debater and polemicist, a person who relished a
good argument. He seems to have really found his intellectual stride when en-
gaged in verbal combat. Polemic and disagreement mark his work. Even his
more purely academic studies are oppositional; for example, he writes against
the modernist assumption that interest in medieval cultures is retrograde and
that they are not worth taking with intellectual seriousness.
His advocacy of English literary culture is also marked by conflict. He
mounts an outspoken campaign against current representatives of literary cul-
ture for what he takes to be their disregard for the care and perpetuation of lit-
erary value. He offers cruel caricatures of clergy as well, as in That Hideous
Strength and The Screwtape Letters, suggesting that in the struggle to propagate
Christian faith he at times feels unsupported by the church. His belief that the
academic community was being taken over by scientific assumptions that in-
creasingly were applied to human life and behavior and his accusations that
the academic community was both elitist and bureaucratic put him on the
margins of the literary and academic establishments. Both the church and the
university were as much his opponents as his allies. With few exceptions his
work was antagonistic, and conflict marks its setting and its thrust.
Let us return to a particularly graphic example, Ransoms conflict with
Weston in Perelandra. What is striking is that the shift from verbal debate to
bodily struggle is presented as a necessary progression. It becomes necessary
for Ransom not only intellectually or verbally to resist Weston and reduce his
influence on the Queen of Perelandra; it becomes necessary to wrestle with
him physically and to kill him. This is because moral and spiritual enemies
take on physical forms, a kind of inverse incarnation, and these forms need to
be engaged and destroyed. The progression not only implies Lewiss justifica-
tion of warfare and execution but also seems to imply that conflict is inevitable

and fundamental to human life and that this conflict must eventually move
from argument and debate to physical combat.
The conflicts and battles in the Narnia Chronicles are not childs play and
are not included simply as a form of entertainment. The message to his young
readers seems to be quite clear: Life is one conflict after another because hu-
man life is primarily a big war with occasional respites. During respites cele-
brations can break out, marking the temporary cessation of war and a partial
victory over the enemy. Otherwise, celebrations conceal war or divert atten-
tion from it, and war is the primary characteristic of human life. As the chil-
dren are summoned into Narnia because some campaign requires their help,
so youthful readers are summoned to view their own world as chiefly marked
by moral conflicts and battles in which they are not too young to join.
There seems to be ample basis, then, for conscripting Lewis into current,
so-called culture wars or into the theological task of setting Christianity in to-
tal conflict with modern culture. But are we correct in aligning Lewis with
those theorists, secular and religious, for whom conflict not only marks hu-
man life but also basically defines it? In order to resist such a conclusion we
should look again at the relation between warfare and celebration in the Nar-
nia Chronicles.
When we first enter Narnia in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, we
find ourselves in a world under the influence of a wicked witch whose prin-
cipal goal is to kill joy, to stop celebration. Her success is epitomized by the
fact that in Narnia there is constant winter and never any Christmas. Later in
the story, Edmund makes a significant move in his recovery from error when
the witch turns creatures into stone in the midst of their festive meal. Ed-
mund reacts strongly to her action.We are told that it was the first time that he
felt sympathy for someone other than himself.14 Nothing marks Jadis more
than her antipathy toward celebrations. She and the evil she embodies are set
against them.
The principal consequence of evil, then, is to destroy the conditions and
finally the possibility for celebration. Evil not only perverts pleasure, as we
have seen; it also is threatened by and counters celebration because celebra-
tion reveals primary relations. Consequently, the principal goal for those re-
sisting evil is, for Lewis, to emancipate the conditions for celebration and to
celebrate. The occasion for celebration is not the defeat of the enemy; cele-
bration is not parasitic and does not depend on enemies. Nor is celebration a
way to conceal or repress the tensions and conflicts of life. Celebrations artic-
ulate what life basically means and is. The purpose of warfare is to lift the evil
siege of life that is constantly repressing or concealing the conditions and
potentials for celebration. Celebration follows warfare in Lewiss stories be-
cause victory removes the obstacles to celebration.
Agents of evil, like Jadis, are threatened by celebration and try to prevent
it because celebration is communal. Evil pits individual against individual and
group against group in a struggle for power. In the empire of evil, one in-
creases at anothers expense. People lose their particularity and are absorbed
by the collective. Celebration, in contrast, is a communal event, and in gen-
uine celebration the particularity of participants is released. Celebration
counters both individuality, defined as nonrelation, and collectivism, defined
as the absorption of particular persons into some anonymous or homogenous
whole. Celebration is an event that expands human life. It reveals relations be-
tween humans and between humans and the larger world. Celebration is the
opposite of hell, therefore, which in The Screwtape Letters is marked by com-
petition and absorption, by simultaneous stress on competitive individualism
and mass collectivity. As the opposite of hell, then, celebration directs the at-
tention of the participant and of the reader to heaven.
Celebration in Lewis is not only a human event. It also includes the non-
human world.Animals and all of life suffer under the reign of evil and are liber-
ated when its siege is lifted. Human life comes into its own when it begins to
recognize not only the relations that exist between persons but the relations
that exist between people and their nonhuman context. Animals are not alien
to humans in Lewiss version of things, and they look to humans for their deliv-
erance from the abuse and disdain that evil imposes on them. Lewiss lifelong
campaign against the mistreatment of animals, particularly in scientific experi-
ments, is only an example of the larger emphasis in his work on our relation
with and responsibility toward the nonhuman world. Celebration is commu-
nal not only in its human inclusiveness; genuine celebration is all-inclusive.
We can see the principal ways by which evil cancels the conditions for
celebration from the effects Jadis has on Narnia. Her acts are reductive (turn-
ing animals into stone statues), homogenizing (causing the constant winter),
intimidating (deploying her Gestapo-like henchmen), and controlling. The
conditions that make for celebration, then, are vitality, diversity, trust, and
freedom. These conditions are not limited to human life. The right relation of
human beings with animals and plants, for Lewis, is not one of control but of
cultivation and release.Animals and plants are vitalized by Jadiss removal, and,
as they suffered under the effects of her tyranny, they join in the celebration
made possible when the spell of that tyranny has been lifted.
These dynamics and their significance seem to suggest that Lewis, in
countering one modern assumption, may have swallowed another, namely,

the notion that life is defined primarily by energy or vitality. But vitalism,
whether in its Romantic or late modernist forms (Bergson, Shaw, and D. H.
Lawrence), is not the point of it at all. True, Lewis would side with vitalists of
various stripes against the political, social, and economic forces that reduce or
abstract human life. His interest in the Romantics can be taken to include
their espousal of spontaneity and freedom against the force of technology and
social, political control.
However, while the Narnia Chronicles rejoice in celebrations and Bac-
chus features in them, it is not finally with some kind of vitalism that Lewis
leaves us. For while Bacchus is released by the defeat of Queen Jadis in The
Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and again by that of King Miraz in Prince
Caspian, the celebrations are not bacchanalian. If they were, the particularity
of participants would again be threatened by absorption, by another kind of
homogenization, and by reduction, by becoming less than what they are. At
celebrations Bacchus is present, but, more important, so is Aslan.
These are neither celebrations of vitality nor celebrations of achieve-
ments. They are finally not even celebrations of human life or of life in gen-
eral. They are celebrations of Narnia, of a particular world, a world made pos-
sible by its creation and by that strange, painful business that averted the threat
to its existence.What is celebrated is Narnia and all that it contains and allows,
and celebrating Narnia is the primary way by which Aslan, as its Creator and
Redeemer, is celebrated, too.
Lewiss theory of basic relations of persons to one another and their
world is his principal point of difference from modern and postmodern views
of human life. It explains why celebration, which is communal, is fundamen-
tal for him and why competition and conflict are at most occasional and
superficial.
As earthly moments of celebration and edification reveal the Creation
and direct attention to the future and the eternal, so earthly competition and
reduction point toward hell. Lewis is intent on drawing relations between ac-
tions and attitudes in ordinary life that point toward heaven and those that
point to hell. Indeed, when human life is taken as a zero-sum game, when it
moves toward homogenization, when it is fundamentally conflicted, and,
when it is controlled bureaucratically, it not only begins to resemble hell but is
actually continuous with it.
Lewis offers a statement of hells philosophy in The Screwtape Letters. It is
a philosophy of external relations, competition, and conflict. It is a summary
of the philosophy by which many people live today, which is implied
by their attitudes and actions. Let us hear Screwtape as, in a clear policy
statement, he articulates the underlying belief of modern society and the of-
ficial dogma of hell:
The whole philosophy of Hell rests on recognition of the axiom that

one thing is not another thing, and, specially, that one self is not another
self. My good is my good and your good is yours. What one gains an-
other loses. Even an inanimate object is what it is by excluding all other
objects from the space it occupies; if it expands, it does so by thrusting
other objects aside or by absorbing them. A self does the same. With
beasts the absorption takes the form of eating; for us, it means the suck-
ing of will and freedom out of a weaker self into a stronger. To be
meansto be in competition.15
The doctrine of external relations, which Lewis presents as the basic dogma of
both hell and modern culture, is inseparable from its political and social con-
sequences. It means that every other entity is an external obstacle and a poten-
tial threat to me, defined, as I am, by self-interest. Particular people increase at
the expense of others. The fittest and most powerful survive.
I do not think, however, that Lewis calls for an end to all competition.
While competition is often continuous with the philosophy of hell, it need
not be. Competition can be seen as a form of imitation and as the way in
which progress occurs. When a child, for example, sees an adult do some-
thing, the child may want to do it, too. The realization of I can do that, too
can easily lead to I can do that differently and even, I can do that better. I
do not think that Lewis distrusts this cultural process by which imitation
moves toward advancement. Indeed, at many points he speaks against a ho-
mogenized culture, one that fails to allow for the recognition of excellence
and the ability of some people to do certain things better than others.What he
rejects is the notion that human beings come into their own primarily by
means of opposing one another, by dynamics of difference and opposition.
He would not translate, as Herbert Spencer does, the putatively antagonistic
relation that animals have with one another into a description of human rela-
tions. As he says, It is our business to live by our own law not by hers [Na-
tures]: to follow in private or in public life, the law of love and temperance
even when they seem to be suicidal, and not the law of competition and grab,
even when they seem to be necessary to survival.16 Indeed, he would argue, I
think, that our perception that animals are unavoidably antagonist to one an-
other is at least in large part a projection of attitudes that we have accepted as

defining the relations of people to one another. For Lewis, animals have real
or potential internal relations both to one another and to human beings. The
doctrine of external relations and inevitable antagonism shapes our under-
standing of competition. Even more, our understanding of competition is
based on our characteristic self-preoccupation.As Lewis says,Now what you
want to get clear is that Pride is essentially competitiveis competitive by its
very naturewhile the other vices are competitive only, so to speak, by acci-
dent. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having
more of it than the next man. . . . It is the comparison that makes you proud:
the pleasure of being above the rest.17 Competition becomes a very different
kind of thing when it is based not on opposition and self-interest but on the
primacy of human relations and a desire for the well-being of other people
and for Creation as a whole.
IV
To return to our question: Does celebration as presented by Lewis serve to
conceal injustices, inequalities, and conflicts? This question is made more in-
sistent by the fact that Lewis seems to have a less than sharp eye for political,
economic, and social inequities. Not only can he be gender elitist and, per-
haps even more disturbing in the context of a childrens book, The Last Battle,
racist, he also appears politically elitist in his affirmation of hierarchy and of
royalty, especially in the Narnia Chronicles.
In response to this very important question, I think we must acknowl-
edge that Lewis shares the racist, sexist, and homophobic aspects of mid-
twentieth-century white, male culture. And it will not do to argue in his de-
fense that his culpability is less than that of many of his well-known literary
contemporaries. It should be said that Lewis did not take adequately into ac-
count how social, political, and economic factors affect the relations of people
to one another and to the nonhuman context of their lives. The wicked
witchrepresents much of the structure by which our daily lives are organized
and under which many people suffer. One of our advantages over Lewis is
that we are in a position more critically to assess the connections between the-
ological or ontological statements about human relations and the effects of so-
cial, economic, and political arrangements.
However necessary it is to amend Lewis on these points, we must not dis-
solve ontological and theologically described relations into social or eco-
nomic ones. Neither should we obscure the belief that humans are in states of
primary relations with one another and with their world. The difficult task is
to retain a more complicated and finely calibrated analysis of social evil while
retaining the sense of internal relations and of the communal character of
Creation. It is easier to subject Christian faith to political interests than to sub-
ject political interests to Christian faith. It is far easier to subject Christian faith
to self-interests than it is to subject self-interests to the reality that Christian
faith affirms, the relational character of human life. Political beliefs and cri-
tiques must be made forceful in Christian thought and practice without posit-
ing difference and conflict as more basic to human life than internal relations
and celebration.
It should also be said that Lewis was not entirely unaware that forms of
evil not only create the homogenizing, controlling, and arrogant powers of
bureaucratic structures but also create political, social, and economic injus-
tices. For example, at the end of Prince Caspian captives are released and the
sick are healed. In Mere Christianity Lewis calls for Christians constantly to
transform their relation to money by giving it away and giving until giving
makes a difference to the giver. He also declares himself to be a democrat, al-
though it is not because he has faith in the choices that people make but rather
because he does not trust one or a few to rule over the many.18 On the eco-
nomic side, he suggests that if we were to come upon a truly Christian society
we would probably find it more socialist than we expected.19
Lewis also wants to see Christians with the appropriate training and voca-
tion placed in positions where political and economic factors are paramount
so that they can employ their faith in that work. Lewis does not go very far
himself in articulating what it would take to liberate the captives or redistrib-
ute wealth. But if celebration is basic, then limited conflict is warranted when
its goal is to remove the conditions that militate against celebration, including,
by implication, social, political, and economic repression and injustice. The
doctrine of primary relations that celebration brings to light forces us to be
conscious of the relations that we have with other people and with the non-
human creatures with which we share the earth, relations that have strong po-
litical and economic dimensions The trick is to retain a critical eye and a com-
bative readiness without falling into conformity with hells philosophy.
The stances and strategies of conflict are always alien to the Christian.
The goal of conflict is not to overcome the enemy but to overcome the condi-
tions that make the other an enemy. No celebration is complete until all the
conditions that militate against celebration are removed and until all who can
possibly be included in the celebration find their places in it, including, it is
hoped, the former enemy.

V
When Dante, in The Divine Comedy, enters the heaven of fixed stars, the
eighth circle of the Ptolemaic cosmos, he enters under his own sign, Gemini.
This signifies that he enters as no one else or as anything less than his own very
self. But in the completion of his journey he joins a multitude of those who
have preceded him.20 The sense of fulfillment is at one time both highly sin-
gular and fully communal. The culmination of Christian faith, hope, and love
can be seen as nothing less than that.
We must keep in mind that for Lewis all moments of celebration, all mo-
ments when self-actualization and communal completion coincide, are gifts.
All celebrations have an eschatological direction and point beyond themselves
to the final feast.
As we have seen, the language of grace has lost much of its force in our
culture because gift giving has become part of our economic practice. How-
ever, there is a kind of gift giving that stands out as different from the giving of
gifts as part of a system of required payments and of being repaid. It is the gift I
receive and do not know that I so deeply and fully want until I receive it.A gift
is truly a gift when in receiving it I become aware for the first time of what all
along I have lacked and for which I have always hoped.
For Lewis, celebration is a gift of that kind. When a person enters into
and is included by a celebration, that person receives the capacity to recognize
how primary, internal, and substantial are our relations with other persons and
with the world. The sense of inclusion is the reception of grace. It is a recog-
nition that one is now what one wanted and needed to be all along, a valued
and even indispensable part of a much larger and richer whole.
The fullest form of grace is the moment when a person is incorporated
into an occasion as though he or she were the one who all the time was
wanted to make the celebration complete. It is as though the lack referred to
above as John and Janet is filled because John and Janet heard the call and
felt, as never before, needed. It is the call and incorporation that the children
in Prince Caspian or The Last Battle feel when they find themselves summoned
to Narnia. It is the corporate that creates that possibility, and it is the particu-
larity of the person called for that articulates what in the corporate is lacking.
As Lewis says,Your soul has a curious shape because it is a hollow made to fit
a particular swelling in the infinite contours of the divine substance, or a key
to unlock one of the doors in the house with many mansions. For it is not hu-
manity in the abstract that is to be saved, but youyou the individual reader,
John Stubbs or Janet Smith.21 To recognize that within completion there is a
lack that only you can fill is to be awakened for the first time to your potential
particularity. The sound of ones name and the welcoming fulfillment in the
community create the moment when particular and communal are insepara-
ble. It is the heart of celebration.
Celebration is homecoming; it is being taken in by a will to fill the house.
The fullness is not quantitative; it is a fullness of irreplaceable particulars. It is
like the individual voices in a piece of polyphonic music, each indispensable
to the whole.
Celebration, then, is incorporation that grants particularity. It is the basic
direction of all things. It is that for which the whole creation groans. It is that
for which we most deeply long and that we grow weary waiting for.
From without this may resemble narcissism, this longing to hear ones
name and to be incorporated within a fullness as an indispensable and irre-
placeable particular. But it is narcissisms opposite. It is not a matter of bring-
ing a world to the self or mistaking the self for the world; rather, it is a desire
to be summoned by and incorporated in a world that precedes, outstrips, and
is more significant than the self. It is a world without which a self could never
be conferred and a world that is so gracious and commodious as to receive
each particular as though without it the sense of the whole could not have
been achieved.
It is crucial to the moral and spiritual improvement of our own culture
that we clarify and enhance a shared sense of the relationships that we do and
can have. It is only in appreciation of constant, primary, and internal relations
that genuine celebration can occur.And it is only people who know what cel-
ebration is because they have experienced it who can begin to understand
what religious hope, the language of grace, and the Christian vision imply.

CONCLUSION
The question that we have been postponing until now must finally be faced.
What would it be like to attempt a project similar to Lewiss here on Ameri-
can soil? One cannot simply transport the house that Lewis constructed to
these shores and move into it.We can visit his and get a feel for what a compa-
rable construction would be like, but it is not possible to avoid building again.
Positioned as we are in a different time and culture, we cannot simply appro-
priate Lewis.
Indeed, Lewis would not want us to. He had a firm sense of history and
the particularity of cultures, and he would recognize that what may have done
the job in his time and place would not be adequate or appropriate to ours.
More than that, he had a strong sense of the impermanence of any construc-
tion, including theological ones:My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to
be shattered time after time. He shatters it Himself. He is the great icono-
clast.1 Lewis wrote that during a particularly dark period of his life, but it is a
comment consistent with his position on the relation of conscious construc-
tions to changing times and conditions. I do not think Lewis would want us to
shirk the difficult work of giving our own account of the world, one that our
attitudes and actions presuppose and our moral vision and spiritual longings
point to. Constructing a Christian account of things cannot mean simply us-
ing the accounts of others, however helpful other accounts may be. I think he
would especially be amused by Protestant Christians who, while recoiling
from the Catholic idea of benefiting from the good works of saints, are ready
to include themselves within his theological good work and to treat Lewis as a
kind of Protestant saint.
The question of what it would take to begin a project similar to Lewiss
here and now is too complex to answer fully in a few pages. I shall only sketch
161
a plan for such a beginning, a project that would give us a more positive rela-
tion to our culture, especially our literary culture, than we seem now to have.
To begin with, the cultural criticism that Lewis aimed at modernity con-
tinues largely to be relevant to our own situation.While it is far from uniform,
modernity has retained most of the characteristics that Lewis deplored and at-
tacked. Postmodernist reactions to modernity have changed academic and lit-
erary culture so that they are more aligned with Lewiss interests and style, but
substantial continuity remains between our present cultural situation and
modernity.2 Lewiss cultural critique and his alternative way of giving an ac-
count of the world continue to apply.
There are, however, two main differences between Lewiss relation to
modern culture and our own. The first is that there remained in English cul-
ture recognizably religious resources yet within reach that could be retrieved,
resources that the acids of modernity had not corroded. This is less true of our
situation today. American culture has been far more identified with the flow-
ering (if thats the right word) of modernity than English culture, and we are a
half century further along in that process than was Lewis. Consequently, the
response to modernity here must take more the shape of reconstruction than
of retrieval.
The second difference is that Lewis could look to a far more homoge-
neous culture and a more shared religious identity than can we. English society
was diverse in his day but not nearly so diverse as it is today. And even present-
day English society is not as diverse as our own. If a generally Christian ac-
count could work in Lewiss time and location, it cannot be general enough to
work for us.While Lewis operated somewhat aside from the restrictions of an
institutionally specific form of Christianity, we have to step back even further
than he did to engage a work analogous to his own.We shall have to draw on
much more diffuse cultural potentials to support a religiously useful account of
the world and of our relations to and within it.
The fact that the moral and spiritual aspects of our literary tradition are
less retrievable and less Christian than were his throws doubt on the project.
However, while one cannot be sanguine about the results, it is not an effort
that we should abandon. The effort itself has value irrespective of results. But
I would also venture to say that there is enough evidence to anticipate that sig-
nificant results, while not guaranteed, are likely. Those of us who are involved
in the study of religion along with other Americans who are concerned about
the moral and spiritual well-being of our culture have a responsibility not to
hold only a critical, negative attitude to contemporary culture but to propose

projects for its cure. Even more, we should not retreat from the challenge into
the security and relative simplicity of our own separated faith communities.
As responsible people we should work assiduously toward the clarification of
shared beliefs or of beliefs that we as Americans can or should share. I think, in
fact, that were Lewis on the scene today, he would robustly joinperhaps
even leadsuch an effort.
While the sources of sharable beliefs are not readily accessible and the
cultural situation is deteriorating, it would be a mistake to conclude that there
are no resources available or no audience ready to receive them. It is not the
case that the effects of modern culture on American life leave us without any
cultural resources at all upon which to draw in order to articulate shareable
beliefs. Difficult as it may be, we can and must speak in public about the moral
and spiritual needs and potentials of American culture. However incomplete
the results, the work must be undertaken and sustained.
The work also must be undertaken even for the sake of religious people
who lack connections with the wider culture. It is not possible to have healthy
religion within the context of an unhealthy culture. Cultural deficiencies and
distortions seep into the churches. In fact, it can be argued that the sense of
distance from and disdain for American culture that religious people express is
itself an effect of the culture. For a principal characteristic of that culture is to
form identity by opposition and disdain and to think of oneself as not affected
by or related to others.American culture is above all a culture of taking excep-
tion or of being an exception. The prevailing means of identity formation in
American society reflects what is most problematic about modern culture,
namely, the dogma of external relations by which it lives. It follows that
Christian despisers who withdraw from the culture because of its weak moral
and spiritual condition mimic the culture in securing identity by separation,
rejection, and opposition.
Moreover, to despise modern culture is to demonize it. To do so is ado-
lescent. As Julia Kristeva points out, it is a Romeo and Juliet model of bond-
ing, the attempt to create community by projecting and magnifying a com-
mon threat.3 The attempt to build unity between Christians by casting the
rest of culture in the role of an enemy suffers from this Romeo and Juliet neg-
ative-identity syndrome.
While there is much to reject, oppose, and correct in the culture, there
also are traits that need to be surfaced and reinforced. What is called for is
neither wholesale rejection of the culture nor uncritical endorsement of it.
Needed instead is a sagacious discrimination of those aspects of American
conc lu s i on 163
culture that can be related to traditional beliefs, beliefs that may yet provide
some support for more adequate accounts of the world and of our relations
within and to it.
In an important paper, Robert N. Bellah asks if there are beliefs that
Americans share.4 He points out that Americans share a culture created by
such factors as their common form of government, their common language,
and their common orientation to the market. Americans also share the means
by which this culture is conveyed, the educational system and the mass media.
Bellah then goes on to add another common element of American culture, its
individualism. The principal argument of his essay is that American individu-
alism is grounded in religious belief, namely, belief in the sacredness of per-
sonal freedom and conscience. The conclusion he draws is that Americans are
multicultural not out of indifference or a bland tolerance but out of a more
positive conviction concerning the sanctity of a persons and a groups right to
form and to follow their own beliefs.
I think that Bellah is right on this point. But I also think that he neglects a
larger cultural context in which the belief in the sanctity of individual free-
dom and conscience should be seen. If we bring that larger context into view,
I believe that we will have more to draw on as we try to identify moral and
spiritual strains in American culture.
I propose that Americans actually share more than Bellahs essay allows. I
believe that there is a surprisingly rich and complex moral and spiritual con-
tent to American culture that can be retrieved and shared. This content is not
a watered-down version of some more full-fledged Christian theology and
morality. Nor is this content to be understood as the sort of general religious-
ness characteristic of all human cultures, something that American culture
has simply by virtue of being a culture.5 The moral and spiritual content of
American culture has an identifiable source, character, and history. This con-
tent is in the present time heavily taxed and diluted. Nonetheless, right now it
still is there, still available to be retrieved, reconstructed, and redeployed, al-
though it may not be there for long!
The common life of the Republic was shaped by and developed within a
sapiential religious system, a set of beliefs, norms, and practices whose pri-
mary source and warrant was the Wisdom books of the Bible. Ingredients of
that sapiential religious system, albeit attenuated and scattered, persist in our
culture today. The primary sites of these beliefs are literary.6
A sapiential religious system carries beliefs that can be shared and can
operate without ecclesiastical sponsorship. One reason is that in the Wisdom
literature the person is central.Wisdom texts focus on individuals: Job, Qohe-

leth, the young men being trained in the classrooms from which much of the
material in the book of Proverbs may have been drawn, or the heroes of such
Wisdom tales as the story of Joseph in Genesis. However, the individual in
these texts is located, as we shall see, in a set of relationships. Individuality in
Wisdom is relational.
Wisdom texts served the public interests of the Republic by being nei-
ther institutional nor parochial. They address humanity in general and in in-
clusive terms. The appeal is not to a special people, not to a people who stand
in contrast or opposition to their neighbors.Wisdom in ancient Israel was an
international phenomenon. Solomon, the biblical patron of Wisdom, con-
versed about wisdom with heads of other states.
Wisdom literature provided usable texts for the emerging Republic not
only because they focused on the individual and because they were not insti-
tutionally specific but also because they stressed the importance of experience
and everyday life.Wisdom offers a guide and response to living in the ordinary
world.Wisdom provides accounts of the world and of the place of people in
it. It addresses all areas of ordinary life, and it represents Wisdom as, among
other things, the accumulation of insights and truth drawn from experience.
These general characteristics of Wisdom go a long way to explain why bibli-
cal Wisdom literature could provide the basis for a common American culture
and allow many beliefs and values crucial for American culture to be recover-
able yet today.
In addition to these general characteristics, wisdom texts advance three
more specific beliefs or affirmations concerning the relation of persons to
their world.All three were major factors in the development of American cul-
ture, and all three beliefs continue to have an effect today.
The first is that human beings, if they are not to go awry, must maintain a
relation with the natural context of their lives. There are many appeals in Wis-
dom literature to the authority of the natural context of human life. Those
who are instructed by Proverbs are enjoined to observe animals and plants, for
example. The natural context of life is not merely used as a source of meta-
phors to clarify moral and spiritual issues. Rather, human beings are asked to
align themselves with the natural. Human life is increasingly falsified when it
drifts away from its attachments to and alignment with its natural context.
So, in the Book of Job,Yahweh rebukes Job for his failure to relate his own
situation to the cosmic context of his life.Yahweh doesnt ask Job to consider
such events as the Exodus from Egypt or the conquest of Canaan, but to con-
sider the beasts in the mountains and under the sea, the great trees, and the
storehouses of snow.
conc lu s i on 165
This belief that human life must constantly renew its relationship or
alignment with nature continues in the Western, Christian tradition, becom-
ing increasingly important toward the end of the sixteenth century.While it
comes into American life earlier, we can pick it up during the founding of the
Republic in Tom Paine and in the Jeffersonian agrarians.We can trace it from
there through such literary writers as Cooper, Melville, Twain, Cather, and
Hemingway down to the present day in such contemporaries as John Gard-
ner, Annie Dillard, Norman Mailer, and E. Annie Proulx.
I realize that the category of the natural is, today, problematic. Many
people live entirely in humanly made and controlled environments. All natu-
ral places are owned by someone or by some nation. There is also no place
where one can see nature without the effects of human constructions in-
scribed on iteven the sky offers not only clouds and stars but also planes and
satellites. Nevertheless, natural continues as an important cultural contrary
not, as in the past, to supernatural but to humanly constructed and con-
trolled.There is no clear or fixed boundary dividing the natural from the hu-
manly constructed, but we have a strong sense that some things are more natu-
ral than others. The natural has prestige as base and resource, and the natural
has value that is morally as well as physically beneficial.While these qualities of
the natural are cheapened and eroded by the marketplacethe natural way
to fight constipation or the natural look created by this hair coloring
normative use of natural in advertising suggests its continuing significance
and authority. The natural has force as a value in our culture.
A retrieval and reconstruction of this belief would not posit the natural as
something independent from and unrelated to human culture but would af-
firm the cultural standing of the natural and of our relation to it. It would
mean trying to locate as fully as possible where the natural comes to expres-
sion. It would involve a quickening of our desire, deep as it is in American cul-
tural history, for the natural.We are enlarged and we live in a larger world, a
world that draws us away from self-centeredness, when we turn from the
work of our own hands and bring the natural into awareness.
I think that Americans from differing backgrounds and religious orienta-
tions or lack of them could agree on this belief. They could agree that a rela-
tion with the natural context of human life in terms both of appreciation and
responsibility is a valuable and beneficial part of American culture. The vari-
ous reasons for affirming this belief need not be resolved or even addressed.
For example, there are many reasons why people have become environmen-
tally aware, reasons that run along differing religious identities, cultural values,
and personal convictions. Many kinds of people for many reasons share beliefs

about responsibility toward the natural context of our lives. One of the rea-
sons that this development is beneficial for the culture is that it provides a pub-
lic, sharable counter-thrust to narcissism. People recognize that they are re-
lated to a larger world and that this relationship needs to be taken into
account. Unfortunately, the ecology movement tends to fall into oppositional
configurations that compromise its role as a belief that Americans could share.
What needs to be emphasized, and our literary culture can help here, is that
internal relations with the natural context of our lives have a moral and spiri-
tual significance that is crucial to our shared identities as Americans.
The second sapiential affirmation concerns human diversity. The Wis-
dom literature takes a positive stance in relation to the fact that people differ
from one another. Joseph in Egypt neither lives as though in a place that only
will defile him nor denies or compromises his own cultural origins and reli-
gious identity. In the Proverbs we find warnings to keep the complexities of
human interactions in mind. The fool is a person who fails to appreciate dif-
ferences between people, differences of age and gender, for example. The
Wisdom literature carries within it many signs of contributions from other
cultures, such as Egypt and Mesopotamia.Wisdom neither rejects people of
other cultures nor ignores or collapses the differences between people and
cultures. There are all the marks of internal relations, of dynamics of differ-
ence and similarity, between people. Diversity is not first of all a problem; it is
a resource.
There is a tradition in American cultural history of celebrating diversity,
seeing human life as expanded and enriched by it. I have in mind texts
by Roger Williams, William Penn, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and
W. E. B. Du Bois and the fiction of Hawthorne, Henry James,Willa Cather,
Faulkner, Jack Kerouac, Ralph Ellison, and Bernard Malamud. Our writers
and other artists are ahead of the rest of society in this regard, and we should
listen to and follow them. Diversity should be recognized in American culture
not as a problem or as something only to tolerate. It should be recognized as
carrying enormous, positive moral and spiritual potential. And it should be
recognized as part of what it means to be American.
A Lewis-type reconstruction of cultural diversity would stress internal
relations between people not only in spite of but also because of their differ-
ences. This means that I am both continuous and discontinuous, like and
unlike someone who is different from me by virtue of gender, race, culture,
sexual orientation, or religion. My relations with that person constitute an
exploration into the complex of difference and similarity; I do not know be-
forehand how much of each there will be. That exploration will lead me to
conc lu s i on 167
understand how important other people with other cultures are, how they
grant access both to a larger human world and to the particularity of persons
and groups. From diversity we learn that cultures carry moral and spiritual
content that creates and reinforces right relations between people and their
world. A Lewis-like reconstruction of this belief would recognize both the
differences and the continuities between human cultures. It would remind us
that despite their differences religious people and others concerned about the
moral and spiritual well-being of Americans have more in common with one
another than they have with those who live only by the prevailing values of
the market culture or view other people as unrelated and even as threats to
themselves.
American life is now marked by greater and more sharply defined cultural
diversity than ever before. Diversity has become undeniable and unavoidable.
Rather than fear or flee it, Americans, especially religious people and others
concerned about the moral and spiritual health of our society, should attend
to it. They can affirm that people are always already in relation to one another,
and these relations can be positive rather than negative, affirming rather than
rejecting. Christians must become aware that they, perhaps more than others,
have good reasons to view other people positively. People of differing cultural
and religious backgrounds may have differing reasons than Christians for af-
firming internal relations with people with whom they differ, but these differ-
ing reasons need not be resolved for the force of the belief to be released.
Religious communities need to formulate positive accounts of the rela-
tions of their adherents to differing people. Diversity in American society
seems less affirmed by religious than by nonreligious people. Indeed, religion
seems more the basis for separation and conflict between people than for an
affirmation of their positive relations to one another. Given this situation, it
seems to me that religious people and especially Christians should formulate
clear and forceful arguments as to why the differences that mark American life
are a resource and not simply a problem or threat. The challenge is to develop
positive, internal relations with people of differing faiths and cultures that do
not require an attenuation of ones own religious identity and location.
The third belief of a sapiential religious system is that people should
imagine a better, more morally and spiritually resonant common life for the
future. Wisdom texts, especially Proverbs, project the future as a realm in
which human life may more fully participate in Wisdom itself.Wisdom un-
derwrites an imagination of the whole and of a goal. Its forward thrust is in-
clusive, corrective, and edifying.

This vision is an integral part of our literary tradition. Many of our writ-
ers, as Irving Howe put it, establish a realm of values at a distance from the
setting of actual life, thereby becoming priests of the possible in a world of
shrinking possibilities.7 Indeed, American identity is upheld by a line of vi-
sionaries who run almost without interruption from John Winthrop, who
gave us his shipboard sermon on a City upon a Hill, to Martin Luther King
Jr., who gave us his view of the future from Mount Nebo in Washington, D.C.
Although the stress of Emerson is on self-reliance, his moral and spiritual in-
terests are not limited to the individual. Life is also, for Emerson, a pilgrimage
toward a celestial city.8 And like him Thoreau and Whitman do not neglect
the vistas of a more inclusive and peaceful common life. Their legacy contin-
ues to be borne by such varied writers in recent times as Flannery OConnor,
J. D. Salinger, Kurt Vonnegut Jr., and Thomas Pynchon.
The problems of our society, its violence, its vulgar materialism, its habits
of exclusion and competition, and its injustices, seem to overwhelm the
moral imagination and its capacity to propose more equitable and spiritually
enhancing possibilities. But this belief and this activity in American life should
be reaffirmed and celebrated.A Lewis-like effort in this direction would try to
undo the hold on us as Americans of addictive dreams of power and pleasure
that sap and sour not only our moral vision but our capacity to entertain one.
We are not, in our moral capacity, threatened so much by the size and com-
plexities of the problems as by the diversion of our capacity for imagining the
moral into self-gratifying national, group, and individual projections. It is part
of our culture as Americans not to tire of imagining a better society, a society
with the kinds of internal relations that Lewis projects, an American Mala-
chandra. Could we have a society in which people, without ignoring imme-
diate and concrete problems, would also have constantly in view what it
might mean to create a more just and civil common life? I realize that the
complexities and problems of American social and economic conditions
daunt the imagination and that visionaries and reformers can easily be intimi-
dated by the typical bureaucratic appeal to efficiency and cost. The last few
decades have seen a growing fatigue of the moral imagination in our society,
especially in young people. But we should recognize that there is still receptiv-
ity to the call to envision and create, on however small a scale, a more just and
civil society. Belief in the possibility of becoming morally better not just as
individuals but as a people, of providing a better life for others as well as for
ourselves, has not been wholly suppressed by competitive ideologies and the
lure of personal aggrandizement.
conc lu s i on 169
Again, Americans of differing religious orientations and nonreligious
people concerned with social justice will come at this project with different
motivations. But those differences need not be resolved or even addressed.
The shared desire for a more just, joyful, and peaceful common life is what is
important. And the most urgent task, it seems to me, is for those who reject
what is destructive and divisive in our culture to articulate what kind of alter-
native common life might be possible. Such people, including those who ar-
gue a religious and even Christian basis for their objections to American cul-
ture, too often imply or even insist that the negative aspects of American
culture are irremediable. The question that must be put to them is not only
what kind of common life their criticism aims for but also how that alterna-
tive culture might be encouraged to emerge. The urgent need is to mobilize
the energy that is now given to protesting and taking exception and to direct it
toward formulating alternative accounts of how things should be. For the
great damage attending the loss of moral imagination is the death of the desire
for a more fully human life. The anger and frustration that mark so much of
American life do not stem only from injustice and oppression. They also re-
flect the failure of the culture to encourage and enable people to articulate for
themselves what in our common life needs to be changed and to imagine the
kind of world that would be less harmful to all of us.
Many American readers of Lewis will not want to engage in such acts of
cultural reconstruction. They will want to keep their religion to themselves as
a warrant for their own self-concerns. They will deny that the kind of cultural
work that Lewis engaged needs to be done here anew. They will not accept
that without such work Christianity also cannot escape cynicism and self-
preoccupation. But proponents of the reconstitution of culture in American
life cannot be shouted off the stage as long as the remnants of a hope in the fu-
ture persist in public life.
American religion is so often bizarre, haphazard, or jejune because reli-
gious people in this country have been cavalier with regard to the common
culture. The terms for reconstruction lie yet at hand, although scattered and at-
tenuated, largely in American literary culture. Our Lewis-like task is the long
and slow process of gathering these fragments, reconstructing, and redeploy-
ing them. The goal is to foster a culture that emphasizes a shared sense of right
relations between people and their environment, between people and their
neighbors, and between people and future prospects for a common life.When
that culture has begun to restore our humanity, Christians can then turn to the
larger task of giving a more specifically Christian account of the world and rec-
ommending it to their nonreligious neighbors as coherent and revealing.

This project carries the risk of falling into errors. Sapiential religious sys-
tems were once themselves exclusive, and their adherents tried to discredit
other religious systems, especially more institutionally specific ones. The be-
liefs I have rehearsed need to be understood as limited and not as displacing
other, more fully religious belief systems. They are beliefs that people can
share, and they can be approached from different directions and affirmed for
differing reasons. Sapiential cultural beliefs ought to be the bath water that
supports the rubber duckies of religious institutions and communities. My
great concern is not that people without religious identity will resist affirming
these beliefs or even making them, say, structuring components of educa-
tional curricula for public schools.What concerns me is that Americans with
distinctive religious identities will see the affirmation of shared beliefs as the
reappearance of that monster, liberal or cultural Protestantism with all its prej-
udices and entrenched institutional power. The goal cannot and should not be
the restoration of a religious culture, even a vaguely Protestant one. Religion
and culture, while open to, requiring, and completing one another, should
also be kept apart. One advantage that our own time and place give us over
Lewis is that we will not be tempted, as perhaps he was, by nostalgia for a
Christian culture.
Cultural norms and beliefs do not constitute a religion, even though they
may have their sources in an identifiable religious system. I am not calling for a
civil religion. I am not arguing that a shared set of cultural beliefs is all we need
to meet our moral and spiritual needs. On the contrary, I think that if these
beliefs and the relations they warrant were to inform our common lives, they
would point beyond themselves to higher and fuller relations. And these fur-
ther directions can only be articulated by the more fully developed religious
beliefs and practices that traditional religions provide.
I do not want to speak too freely for Lewis. But if my sketch for the re-
trieval and reconstruction of a more viable culture and my call for beginning a
Lewis-like project on our shores and in our time have been to any degree
compelling, it may be possible at least to say that Lewis, were he with us,
would throw his weight behind this project. Indeed, I think that he would do
more. He would engage it in such forceful and ingenious ways that those of us
who work at it haphazardly and with little effect against all that opposes it
would find ourselves carried along by his wake.
conc lu s i on 171
NOTES
Introduction
1. Charles H. Lippy, Being Religious, American Style:A History of Popular Religiosity

in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1994), pp. 4, 7, 9. There are,
of course, many Americans whose belief systems conform to those of the religious in-
stitutions with which they are affiliated. And, at the other end of the spectrum, there
may be an equal number of Americans who do not find it necessary or possible to hold
a worldview at all, particularly one fashioned to any degree according to moral and re-
ligious beliefs. But I agree with students of popular religion in America that there is
a large percentage, perhaps a majority, of Americans who experience a significant de-
gree of cognitive dissonance with the tenets of the religious tradition or institution
with which they are identified but do not think of themselves for that reason as any less
religious. Such people resemble those with no formal affiliation who, for contrary
reasons and moving from contrary positions, are also engaged in the task of giving ac-
counts of their world and place in it, accounts that to some degree include or support
explicit moral and religious beliefs.
2. See R. Laurence Moore, Selling God: American Religion in the Marketplace of
Culture (NewYork: Oxford University Press, 1994).
3. Nicholas Wolterstorff, Reason Within the Bounds of Religion (Grand Rapids:
William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., [2d ed.], 1984), p. 75.
4. Since the category of natureor the naturalarises in Lewis often and since
I use it, too, it would be good to point out that neither he nor I use the term as though
it refers to something that is not conditioned by language and culture. Nature and
natural are always culturally conditioned categories. For an excellent study of the
differing ways in which the category of the natural has been used in the history of
Western culture, see Peter Coates, Nature:Western Attitudes since Ancient Times (Berke-
ley: University of California Press, 1998).We shall take up the question of natureas a
category in American culture in the Conclusion of this book.
5. See my Take, Read: Scripture,Textuality and Cultural Practice (University Park:
Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996).
173
1: Retrieval
1. I should like to be able to believe that I am here in a very small way con-
tributing . . . to the encouragement of a better school of prose story in England: Of
story that can mediate imaginative life to the masses while not being contemptible to
the few. C. S. Lewis, On Stories, in Walter Hooper, ed., Of This and Other Worlds
(London: Collins, 1982), p. 42.
2. C. S. Lewis, Preface to Paradise Lost (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967
[1942]), p. 53. Stanley Fish is well known for his collapse of the distinction between
rhetoric and literature and between knowledge and power. See his Doing What Comes
Naturally: Change, Rhetoric, and the Practice of Theory in Literary and Legal Studies (Dur-
ham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1989).
3. I have not included a brief but significant chapter in my narrative of the
American reception of Lewiss work, namely, the role Lewis played in the formation
of theYale school of theology during the postWorld War II period. A crucial text is
Paul L. Holmers C.S.Lewis:The Shape of His Faith andThought (NewYork: Harper and
Row, 1976). Holmer, who was thoroughly acquainted with Lewis, attributes to him
some of the crucial intellectual moves and assumptions of his own and, by extension,
of his colleagueswork. It would be worth measuring the direct and indirect influence
of Lewis on the work not only, then, of Holmer but also of such otherwise differing
scholars as Paul Ramsey, Hans Frei, and W. H. Poteat.
4. For a discussion of the complexity of postmodernist developments in literary
studies and the moral deficiencies they contain, see my Take,Read:Scripture,Textual-
ity and Cultural Practice (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996),
especially chapter 3, Postmodernism: Not Reading Anything at All As Though It
Were Scripture.
5. See C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy:The Shape of My Early Life (NewYork: Har-
court Brace & Co., 1956), pp. 17481.
6. Terry Eagleton, Literary Theory: An Introduction (Oxford: Basil Blackwell,
1983), pp. 31, 32.
7. Ibid., p. 27.
8. See also Fred Inglis, Cultural Studies (Oxford and Cambridge: Blackwell,
1993), especially English for the English,pp. 2758.
9. For an excellent study of the status of Idealism, especially Hegelianism, in
Oxford in Lewiss time, see Franklin Arthur Pyles,The Influence of the British Neo-
Hegelians on the Christian Apology of C. S. Lewis (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern
University, Ph.D. diss., 1978). See also James Patrick, C. S. Lewis and Idealism, in
Andrew Walker and James Patrick, eds., Rumors of Heaven:Essays in Celebration of C.S.
Lewis (Guilford, Surrey, Eng.: Inter Publishing Service Ltd., 1998), pp. 15673.
10. See, for example, The New Men, which is the concluding chapter of his
Mere Christianity (NewYork: Macmillan, 1960 [1943]), pp. 16975.
11. He records the role in his intellectual/spiritual development that Owen
Barfield played in ridding Lewis of his chronological snobbery, that is, the uncriti-
cal acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assump-

tion that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited. Surprised by
Joy, p. 207.
12. Though we ought always to imitate the procedure of Christ and His Saints
this pattern has to be adapted to the changing conditions of history.C. S. Lewis, Pres-
ent Concerns, ed.Walter Hooper (San Diego, NewYork, London: Harcourt Brace Jo-
vanovich, 1986), p. 61.
13. Lewis, Surprised by Joy, p. 208.
14. Human temporality is vexed by the perennial problem that temporality is not
only marked by both continuity and change but also that it is not possible beforehand
to say in what the change and continuity will consist or how much of each there will
be. I take this problem in human temporality to reside, mutatis mutandis, as well in the
relation of human cultures to one another. The interpreter, whether working with
other historical periods or with the cultures of other peoples, must be prepared to
learn in each case in what the differences and continuities will reside and how much of
the one and how much of the other there will be.
15. For example, Lewis begins his The Problem of Pain in this autobiographical
way: Not many years ago when I was an atheist. . . . He then goes on to use his own
previous anti-Christian views as typical of the cultural objection to Christianity that it
is the intention of the book to address. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (NewYork: Macmil-
lan, 1962), p. 13.
16. C. S. Lewis, The Pilgrims Regress (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1945 [1933]), p. 5.
17. Surprised by Joy, p. 168.
18. Lewis refers to self-preoccupation primarily in the traditional language of
self-regard and pride. I shall often be using the term narcissismas what I take him to
have in mind by the form that self-preoccupation takes in modern culture. The term
suggests that what preoccupies is not simply the self but an image of the self. I think
that Lewis would agree with this characterization of modern self-concern.
19. C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1958), p. 40.
20. C. S. Lewis, Religion without Dogma? in his God in the Dock: Essays on
Theology and Ethics, ed. by Walter Hooper (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans,
1970), p. 131.
21. Richard W. Ladborough,In Cambridge,in James T. Como, ed., C.S.Lewis
at the Breakfast Table and Other Reminiscences (NewYork: Macmillan, 1979), p. 103.
22. See C. S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength (New York: Macmillan, 1946), pp.
6168.
23. C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 112.
24. Alan Bede Griffiths, O.S.B., The Adventure of Faith, in Como, ed., C. S.
Lewis at the Breakfast Table and Other Reminiscences, p. 15.
25. See Literary Impact of the AuthorisedVersion, in C. S. Lewis, They Asked
for a Paper:Papers and Addresses (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1962), pp. 2650.
26. Lewiss principal opponent is post-Christian, secular culture. He does not
offer a Christian account of the world in opposition to other religious accounts. For
Lewis religious people of various kinds have more in common with one another than
any of them has with modern, post-Christian secularism or skepticism:The gap be-
tween those who worship different gods is not so wide as that between those who
note s 175
worship and those who do not. C. S. Lewis, De Descriptione Temporum (London:
Cambridge University Press, 1955), p. 7.
27. A question arises as to whether or not Lewis tries to argue people into Chris-
tian belief, and it often arises in relation to John Beversluiss book, C. S. Lewis and the
Search for Rational Religion, a book in which Beversluis argues that Lewiss attempts fail.
See, for example, the discussion of this matter in Reflections on C. S. Lewis, Apolo-
getics, and the Moral Tradition: Basil Mitchell in Conversation with Andrew Walker,
in Walker and Patrick, eds., Rumors of Heaven: Essays in Celebration of C. S. Lewis. My
position on this question is that Lewis tries to argue that a Christian account of the
world is more adequate and coherent than competing, secular accounts. This is some-
thing less than trying to use rational arguments to lead inevitably to Christian belief.
One could, for example, conclude that neither account, religious nor nonreligious,
is compelling.
28. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, pp. 2324.
29. Christology generally and the doctrine of Atonement particularly hold clear
positions in Lewiss theology that are both crucial and unusual.We shall take up these
matters more directly in the essay on celebration.
30. Peter Bayley, who, as a student, knew Lewis and who himself became a lit-
erary scholar, says of him, his greatest [strength] lay in extraordinary powers of
clarification and illumination. His weakness lay in this very strength: he could not
resist oversimplification and beautifully neat conclusions.Peter Bayley,From Mas-
ter to Colleague, in Como, ed., C. S. Lewis at the Breakfast Table and Other Reminis-
cences, p. 81.
31. C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (New York: Harper Collins
Publishers, 1980 [1952]), pp. 11516.
32. Matthew Arnold,Literature and Dogma: An Essay Towards a Better Appre-
hension of the Bible,in Dissent and Dogma, R. J. Super, ed. (Ann Arbor: University of
Michigan Press, 1968), p. 182.
33. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, especially pp. 2654.
34. See his Miracles:A Preliminary Study (NewYork: Macmillan, 1960).
35. Lewis, Mere Christianity, pp. 16566.
36. See, for example, The Screwtape Letters (NewYork: Macmillan, 1961), p. 73.
2: Reenchantment
1. . . . I sometimes wonder whether we shall not have to re-convert men to real

Paganism as a preliminary to converting them to Christianity. C. S. Lewis, Present
Concerns, ed. Walter Hooper (San Diego New York London: Harcourt Brace Jo-
vanovich, Publishers, 1986), p. 66.
2. What are being described here are cultural tendencies and dominant atti-
tudes. Lewis, it is important to remember, does not dismiss the culture entirely be-
cause of these characteristics. Nor does he claim that all people have been so affected
by the negative characteristics of modern culture that they are incapable of, for exam-
ple, genuinely courageous or charitable acts unless they have replaced religious or

Christian attitudes for those inculcated by the dominant culture. Indeed, as we shall
see in the chapter on Character, Lewis prized highly the continuing virtues in the cul-
ture despite the influence within the culture of attitudes he deplored. I would say the
same of our own culture today. Religious and secular cultural criticism that is only
negative obscures and damages those aspects of the culture worth affirming. Indeed,
the task of the cultural critic is to discriminate the positive and negative in the culture
from one another.
3. Language of this kind recalls the address of Friedrich Schleiermacher to the
cultural despisers of Christianity, an address in which Schleiermacher radically al-
tered, even reversed, the terms by which Christianity should be viewed and under-
stood. This address of 1799 is often cited as an important turning point in the history
of Christian theology, one in which Christian theology became hostage to the drifts
of cultural currents. One must, however, be careful here. As we shall see later, Christ-
ian theology is not a fully developed and fixed project, for Lewis, one that, like a
completed structure, needs only a vacant lot to locate itself. As I pointed out in the
previous chapter, cultures change, and these changes require not only recastings but
new understandings of religious belief and practice. Furthermore, Lewis would not,
as do many who cite Schleiermachers moves as misguided, treat the problem as one
necessarily caused by giving a positive reading to human culture. Lewis does not re-
spond to the cultural despisers of religion by becoming a religious despiser of human
culture, although he has serious problems with some dominant characteristics of
modern culture.
4. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, p. 85.
5. See Anthony J. Cascardi, The Subject of Modernity (Cambridge University
Press, 1992), especially the chapter The disenchantment of the world,pp. 1671.
6. William Golding, A Moving Target (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1982),
p. 99, and The Hot Gates (NewYork: Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., 1966), pp. 100
and 87.
7. C. S. Lewis, Rehabilitations and Other Essays (London: Oxford University
Press, 1939), p. 17.
8. Holmer stands out among interpreters of Lewiss work both in his recognition
of Lewiss identification of this assumption as basic to modern culture and in his
recognition of the refutation of this assumption as central to Lewiss project. Paul L.
Holmer, C. S. Lewis:The Shape of His Faith and Thought (NewYork: Harper and Row,
1976), p. 56.
9. C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (New York: The Macmillan Company,
1947), p. 13.
10. Ibid, p. 21.
11. For a fuller description of these developments and their formative roles in the
production of modern culture, see my Take, Read: Scripture,Textuality and Cultural
Practice (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996), pp. 4145.
12. Screwtape, for example, urges Wormwood to use humility as a way of lead-
ing the patient to discount the value of the talents he possesses. By this method
thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means . . . clever men
trying to believe they are fools.The Screwtape Letters, p. 64.
note s 177
13. See C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (NewYork: Macmillan Publishing Com-
pany, 1960 [1952]), p. 57.
14. Let me quote a passage in which Lewis is explicit about the limits or coun-
terbalances that should be placed on the typical strategies of scientific inquiry.What
he calls a regenerate scientific method would have these characteristics: When it
explained it would not explain away.When it spoke of the parts it would remember
the whole.While studying the It it would not lose what Martin Buber calls the Thou-
situation.C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man, p. 49.
15. While I strongly agree with Paul Holmer that Lewis does not operate from
the general modern separation of fact and value from one another, I tend to see
Lewiss project as more complex than Holmer takes it to be. I think that Lewis upholds
the usefulness and legitimacy of both reduction and separating fact from value as
marks of modern methods of rationality and analysis that need not be rejected. But
those methods are particular strategies that should be housed within a culture that
arises from primary relations and that offsets analysis by reduction with an analysis or
interpretation that expands and edifies. See Holmer, p. 56.
16. Examples of these theological moves, in the order in which I list them,
would be those basic to the work of Rudolf Bultmann, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Karl
Barth.
17. See Kenneth Surin, Contemptus Mundi and the Disenchanted World: Bon-
hoeffers Discipline of the Secret and Adornos Strategy of Hibernation in Journal
of the American Academy of Religion,Vol LIII, No. 3 (September, 1985), pp. 383411.
18. C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man, p. 44.
19. For Lewiss discussion of pride as the root of sin and his reliance on St. Au-
gustine concerning this matter, see his The Problem of Pain, p. 75.
20. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York: Harcourt Brace and Company,
1956), p. 107.
22. Ibid., p. 38.
23. It could be argued that shared values constitute no less than does a situa-
tion free of them conditions in which an adult can impose will on children. Lewis
would respond to this rejoinder, as we shall see in the chapters on Culture and Char-
acter, by arguing that what is taught is both the way by which students are incorpo-
rated within the values of the culture and the way by which those values are both af-
firmed and questioned. Lewis is not opposing collective values to individual values.
Rather, he is contrasting a situation in which it is acknowledged that both teacher
and students already operate within a structure of values. The values already there
should be acknowledged, examined, and, when possible, affirmed or, when neces-
sary, challenged.
24. In an excellent essay on Lewis and H. G.Wells, Thomas C. Peters comments,
Perhaps the most unsettling of Lewiss arguments against Wells is that scientism leads
in the end to evil. Thomas C. Peters, The War of the Worldviews: H. G.Wells and
ScientismVersus C. S. Lewis and Christianity,in David Mills, ed., The Pilgrims Guide:
C.S.Lewis and the Art of Witness (Grand Rapids, Michigan:William B. Eerdmans Pub-
lishing Company, 1998), p. 217.While I agree with this conclusion, I hope that I have

made clear how and why this occurs. It does because what Peters calls scientism is
really the ideology of the arrogant, modern self freed from restraint by the removal of
primary relations of actual or potential value with the larger world, both human and
non-human.
25. It is doubtful, however, that Ransom would have provided Devine the kind
of plaque of appreciation that he puts up at the site of Westons death, had Devine
been his final adversary rather than Weston.
26. C. S. Lewis, Out of the Silent Planet (New York: The Macmillan Publishing
Company, 1965), p. 30.
27. See Surprised by Joy, pp. 132148.
28. For Lewis, as for St. Augustine, evil is the perversion of good and requires
good for its existence. Evil does not have a content or being of its own but is parasitic.
What we call bad things are good things perverted. This perversion arises when a
conscious creature becomes more interested in itself than in God, and wishes to exist
on its own. This is the sin of Pride. C. S. Lewis, Preface to Paradise Lost (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1967 [1942]), p. 66. It should be pointed out, however, that
this quotation could easily create a misinterpretation of Lewis because of its context in
his discussion of Paradise Lost and Satan. Lewis affirms the whole intermediary
world between an individual person and God as providing a large context in relation
to which an alternative to pride and self-centeredness is offered.
29. Paul L. Holmer, C.S.Lewis:The Shape of His Faith and Thought, p. 25.
30. Lewis does not address this issue directly. I think that he would agree that at
times it may be beneficial to human beings to address them and their interests in ways
consistent with modern forms of analysis. For example, disputes may be settled or
long-term solutions of social problems can be projected in ways that, by being de-
tached or abstract, may be more effective than if proposed with a sense of relation be-
tween the investigator or theorist and the interests of particular people. The key con-
sideration, then, is the condition that such stances are defensible because they are
beneficial in particular cases.
31. Quoted from her autobiographical sketch, The Longest Way Round, by
Walter Hooper, C. S. Lewis: A Companion and Guide (London: Harper Collins Pub-
lishers, 1996), p. 58.
32. When Lewis describes science within the context of a human culture, he de-
scribes scientists who, among other things, would not be free with the words only or
merely.The Abolition of Man, p. 49.
33. C. S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength, p. 255.
34. Surprised by Joy (NewYork: Harcourt Brace and Company, 1956), p. 169.
35. See Max Weber, Economy and Society,Vol 3, pp. 9501736.
36. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns p. 83.
37. The Abolition of Man, p. 45.
38. C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (New York: Harcourt Brace and Company,
1960), p. 170.
39. Ibid., pp. 11819.
40. See C. P. Snow, Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution (Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 1959).
note s 179
41. For a valuable study of the assumption that to be modern means basically not
to possess or be affected by culture see Bruno Latour, We Have Never Been Modern,
trans. Catherine Porter (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1993).
42. I think that one of the reasons why Lewis does not agree with the cultural as-
sessments of most of his literary contemporaries such as those I already have men-
tionedT. S. Eliot, Graham Greene, and William Golding, for exampleis that he
does not share the belief that the world wars stripped away the illusion of culture and
revealed the human condition or human nature to be what it really is. There is, for
him, no view of reality apart from culture. There are particular times, such as in acts of
analysis or comparison, when it is desirable as much as possible to view something as
though the view were free from culture. But the object and the view in such cases are,
for him, artificial and abstract.
43. Paul L. Holmer, C.S.Lewis, p. 86.
45. The individuality of the Absolute points up the doctrine of the concrete
universal. . . . The individual exhibits the particular instance of a universal. . . . he
[Lewis] completely rejected the teaching that the Absolute is not a particular. . . .
Franklin Arthur Pyles,The Influence of the British Neo-Hegelians on the Christian
Apology of C. S. Lewis, (Evanston: Northwestern University Ph.D. Dissertation,
1978), pp. 41 and 42.
46. We shall address this matter in Lewis of the mutuality of particulars and the
whole in the chapter on Celebration.
47. Great stories take us outside of the prison of our own selves and our presup-
positions about reality. Colin Duriez, The Romantic Writer: Lewiss Theology of
Fantasyin David Mills, ed., The Pilgrims Guide, p. 103.
48. C. S. Lewis, On Three Ways of Writing for Children in Of This and Other
Worlds,Walter Hooper, ed., (London: Collins, 1982), pp. 6465.
49. Arthur Pyles,The Influence of the British Neo-Hegelians on the Christian
Apology of C. S. Lewis,p. 55.
3: Houses
1. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy:The Shape of My Early Life, p. 10.

2. Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space, trans. Marie Jolas, foreword by Etienne
Gilson (NewYork: The Orion Press, 1964), pp. 6163.
3. Ibid., pp. 1718.
4. Ibid., pp. 8188.
5. Ibid., pp. 91104.
6. I have already indicated that Lewis, primarily by the range of his cultural in-
terests and critiques, the variety of genre, and his rhetorical style, seems more at home
in a postmodernist than in a modernist academic setting. This is also the case with his
willingness to understand a persons or groups relation to their world primarily in tex-
tual terms. I would add, in relation to the textual theory implied in his work, that, un-
like those theories derived from Jacques Derrida, Lewis retains some sense of the par-

ticularity of texts in addition to their interrelatedness. This does not mean that Lewis
is assuming some kind of autonomy for texts or some point in or behind them of orig-
ination. It is consistent with so much of his work that Lewis would, in the present de-
bates about texuality, take a position that would avoid the options of canon and
writing,that is, either the autonomy of texts or their lack of particularity. All of the
splits that plague debates on these and related issues Lewis would try to avoid because
they reveal assumptions about human life as basically defined by contraries and oppo-
sitions. I tend to agree with him on these points. See my Story,Text and Scripture (Uni-
versity Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1988), pp. 11924.
7. Lewis sees a major change occurring in Western culture during the opening
decades of the nineteenth century due largely to the increasing dependence of human
culture on machines. This dependence turned attention to the latest and newest, since
improvements in machinery displaced the value of what they superseded. See his De
Descriptione Temporum (London: Cambridge University Press, 1955), p. 11.
8. Not only does Lewis believe that premodern texts should be part of the house
of contemporary English culture, he also advocates a medieval way of relating to the
past, that is, with a strong sense of appreciation for and continuity with it.While he
neither undermines a historical sense nor promotes anachronism or nostalgia, he does
see periodization in particular and a sense of distance from or discontinuity with the
past as typically modern and highly questionable habits of mind. See, e.g., his Dis-
carded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1964), pp. 18384.
9. Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism and the Cultural Logic of Late Capital-
ism.New Left Review 146 (1984): 64.
10. Lewis comments on the stimulating potential for the imagination that such
microcosms offer in Surprised by Joy, p. 7.
11. See his essay, On Stories, in Walter Hooper, ed., Of This and Other Worlds
12. C. S. Lewis, Out of the Silent Planet (NewYork: Macmillan, 1965), p. 32.
13. C. S. Lewis, Perelandra, pp. 63, 65.
14. William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature
(NewYork: Collin Books, 1961), p. 57.
15. Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy, trans. John W. Harvey (NewYork: Oxford
University Press, 1958).
16. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (NewYork: Macmillan, 1960), p. xi.
17. C. S. Lewis,Dogma and the Universe,in God in the Dock: Essays onTheology
and Ethics (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1970), p. 45.
18. C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (NewYork: Seabury Press, 1961), p. 33.
19. See, for example, the essays in David Mills, ed., The Pilgrims Guide.While
all of them are valuable studies of Lewiss work and complicate ones understanding
of it fruitfully, some of them do have an edge to them, a desire to conscript Lewis in
some ongoing theological or cultural war.While Lewis was a warrior, he saw the bat-
tle lines not defined by theological points but by a more inclusive understanding of
the world. Differences are recognizable in terms of the sense of the world and of
ones place in it. For Lewis, a religious, and especially a Christian, sense of being in
note s 181
the world is a more capacious, complex, and open sense than is that of alternative,
secular accounts.
20. There are many points at which Lewis makes clear that his project is not one
that poses Christianity in opposition to other religions but one that poses Christianity
as an alternative account of things to the principal forms of Western secularism,
namely, materialism and narcissism. His view of other religions in their relation to
Christianity tends to be a rather traditional Catholic view, namely, that other religions
anticipate Christianity and find their fulfillment in it. This is nowhere more firmly or
clearly stated in his work than in the character of Emeth in The Last Battle. Emeth,
whose name means truth, lived outside the domain of Aslan but is included in that
domain at the end by virtue of his desire to live truthfully.
21. C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (NewYork: Macmillan, 1962), p. 25.
22. Although many instances of this move could be cited, one of the more influ-
ential is George A. Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine:Religion andTheology in a Postliberal
Age (Philadelphia:Westminster Press, 1984). See my response to this book in Bound to
Differ:The Dynamics of Theological Discourses (University Park: Pennsylvania State Uni-
versity Press, 1992), pp. 3740.
23. See Pierre Bourdieu, Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste,
trans. Richard Nice (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1984).
24. The difficulty of affirming social space is an aspect not only of Lewiss work
but also, it appears, of his life. The Inklings, a group of friends and colleagues who
shared ideas and work in progress, formed a social space that stood, at least in some
ways, as an alternative to the general college climate at Oxford. Lewis seemed to be, of
all the participants in the group, its most devoted member.Jack held meetings of the
Inklings in his rooms for fifteen years, until one horrible Thursday in October 1949
when nobody turned up. George Sayer, Jack: C. S. Lewis and His Times (New York:
Harper and Row, 1988), p. 152.
25. C. S. Lewis, The Magicians Nephew (NewYork: Harper Collins, 1955), p. 8.
26. Ibid., p. 146.
27. C. S. Lewis, Arthurian Torso:Containing the Posthumous Fragment of the Figure of
Arthur by Charles Williams (London: Oxford University Press, 1948), p. 105.
28. See Max Weber, Economy and Society, vol. 3, pp. 9501136.
29. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, p. 63.
30. See John Sears, Sacred Places: American Tourist Attractions in the Nineteenth Cen-
tury (NewYork: Oxford University Press, 1989).
4: Culture
1. Kathryn Tanner, Theories of Culture: A New Agenda for Theology (Minneapolis:

Fortress Press, 1997), p. 157.
2. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, ed.Walter Hooper (San Diego: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, 1986), p. 61.
3. A classic study of this question and of the ways Christians have differed in their
response to it is H. Richard Niebuhrs Christ and Culture (NewYork: Harper, 1951).

4. C. S. Lewis, The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance
Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964), pp. 4347.
5. Paul Holmer, C. S. Lewis: The Shape of His Faith and Thought (New York:
Harper & Row, 1976), p. 94.
6. C. S. Lewis, On Stories, in Of This and Other Worlds, ed. Walter Hooper
7. The reader could easily expect to find a reference at this point to Clifford
Geertz and his definitions of culture and of religion, especially his Religion as a Cul-
tural System in The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays (NewYork: Basic Books,
1973).While Geertz is valuable for his inclusion of religion within culture, a move im-
portant to anthropological attitudes toward religion, he does not, it seems to me, grant
a way of securing the difference and possibly critical relation between religion and
culture that Lewis retains.While there are hazards in retaining distinctions between re-
ality, culture, and religion, there are greater hazards in occluding those distinctions.
Again, Lewis wants to see the three as separable but not as separate.
8. Lionel Adey, C.S.Lewis:Writer,Dreamer,and Mentor (Grand Rapids:William B.
Eerdmans, 1998), p. 90.
9. C. S. Lewis, Lilies That Fester, in They Asked for a Paper: Papers and Addresses
(London: Geoffrey Bles, 1962), p. 110.
10. This situation finds its full expression in Screwtapes frustrated attempts to
understand the Enemys motives. They are motives that simply cannot be under-
stood and that must be distorted in and by the cultureor total lack of culture in Hell.
The cultureof Hell is one built entirely on self-interest.
11. C. S. Lewis,First and Second Things,in God in the Dock, p. 281.
12. E. M.W. Tillyard and C. S. Lewis, The Personal Heresy: A Controversy (Lon-
don: Oxford University Press, 1939), p. 30.
13. C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (NewYork: Macmillan, 1947), p. 13.
14. The dogmatic belief in objective value is necessary to the very idea of a rule
which is not tyranny or an obedience which is not slavery.C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of
Man, p. 46.
15. See C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man, p. 9, and The Problem of Pain (NewYork:
Macmillan, 1943), p. 17.
16. It is by these steps that I have come to regard as the greatest of all divisions in
the history of the West that which divides the present from, say, the age of Jane Austen
and Scott. For in the world of machines the new most often really is the better and
the primitive really is the clumsy. C. S. Lewis, De Descriptione Temporum (London:
Cambridge University Press, 1955), pp. 11, 12.
17. Yet Lewiss quarrel is not with the scientific method. It is with the bogus
priests of technology and progress who would apply science to all of life in such a way
that the spirit dwindles or is channeled into an evangelistic, well-placed secularism.
Corbin Scott Cornell, Bright Shadow of Reality: C. S. Lewis and the Feeling Intellect
(Grand Rapids:William B. Eerdmans, 1974), pp. 11617.
18. The Abolition of Man, p. 37.
19. Ibid., p. 35.
20. Ibid., p. 57.
note s 183
21. Ibid., p. 69.
22. Lewis does not carry over his collapse of the distinction between rhetoric
and poetry into a collapse of the distinction between culture and forms of social, po-
litical, and economic power. This is because he wants to see culture as the regulatory
and directing context of power, analogous to the chestthat orders and regulates hu-
man energies and impulses.
23. Lewis, Present Concerns, p. 7.
24. See John Guillory, Cultural Capital:The Problem of Literary Canon Formation
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), and Pierre Bourdieu, Distinction:The
Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste, trans. Richard Nice (Cambridge, Mass.: Har-
vard University Press, 1984).
25. See Lewiss preface to Screwtape Proposes a Toast in The Screwtape Letters,
p. 151.
26. Tillyard and Lewis, The Personal Heresy, p. 30.
27. We shall address the relation in Lewis of the doctrines of Creation and of
Redemption to one another in the chapter on Celebration. However, to prevent mis-
understanding, it should be noted that, as we shall see in the next chapter, Lewis posits
discontinuity between the self that must be rejected or abandoned and the self that is
received or put on.
28. Barbara Herrnstein Smith, Contingencies of Value:Alternative Perspectives for
Critical Theory (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988).
29. Among the many studies of this kind, one of my favorites is Timothy
Mitchell, Colonizing Egypt (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991).
30. Steven Connor, Theory and Cultural Value (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1992).
31. Stanley Fish, Doing What Comes Naturally: Change, Rhetoric, and the Practice of
Theory in Literary and Legal Studies (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1989),
p. 156.
32. C. S. Lewis, The Discarded Image, p. 6.
33. C. S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univer-
sity Press, 1961), p. 138.
5: Character
1. C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, in They Asked for a Paper (London: Geof-
frey Bles, 1962), p. 210.
2. C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters (NewYork: Macmillan, 1961), p. 56.
3. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (NewYork: Macmillan, 1960), p. 55.
4. Ibid., p. 57.
5. Ibid., p. 64.
6. Ibid., pp. 6465.
7. I am a democrat because I believe in the Fall of Man. I think most people are
democrats for the opposite reason. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, ed.Walter Hooper
(NewYork: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1986), p. 17.
8. C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (NewYork: Macmillan, 1947), pp. 3943.

9. Ibid., p. 42.
10. For a well-known and influential description of the ways in which knowl-
edge in modern culture is bound to powers that condition the internal lives of people,
see Michel Foucaults Discipline and Punish:The Birth of the Prison, trans. Alan Sheridan
(NewYork:Vintage, 1979).
11. C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man, p.34.
12. C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (NewYork: Macmillan, 1946), p. vi.
13. The most influential text of philosophical ethics that is in basic agreement
with Lewis on these matters is Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue: A Study of Moral Theory
(Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984).
15. See Joseph Fletcher, Situational Ethics:The New Morality (Philadelphia:West-
minster Press, 1966).
16. For Lewiss comments on the difficulties of creating fictional characters that
are good rather than wicked, see his Preface to Paradise Lost (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1967 [1942]), p. 102.
17. For a discussion of some of these issues, see his Preface to Paradise Lost.
18. See On Three Ways of Writing for Children, in C. S. Lewis, Of This and
Other Worlds, ed. Walter Hooper (London: Collins, 1982), pp. 6465. Lewis distin-
guishes between two kinds of imagination by calling one of them baptized and the
other unbaptized.It should be stressed that Lewis is not, in this distinction, drawing a
line between Christians and non-Christians. It is not as though Christians have bap-
tized and non-Christians have non-baptized imaginations. He has a more general dis-
tinction in mind.
19. C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (NewYork: Harper Collins,
1978), p. 51.
20. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, p. 87.
6: Pleasure
1. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, ed.Walter Hooper (NewYork: Harcourt, Brace,

3. Ibid., p. 47.
4. C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (NewYork: Harcourt Brace, 1988 [1960]), p. 11.
5. It should be noted that Lewis places pleasure as the counterpart to the sublime
in contrast to Kant in the third Critique, who constructs the beautiful as the contrary
of the sublime.
6. See, e.g., Corbin Scott Carnell, Bright Shadow of Reality: C. S. Lewis and the
Feeling Intellect (Grand Rapids, Michigan:William B. Eerdmans, 1974), pp. 11617.
7. Bruce L. Edwards,. . . The Abstractions Proper to Them: C. S. Lewis and the
Institutional Theory of Literaturein Bruce L. Edwards, The Taste of the Pineapple:Es-
says on C.S.Lewis as Reader,Critic,and Imaginative Writer (Bowling Green, Ohio: Bowl-
ing Green State University Popular Press, 1988), pp. 41, 55.
note s 185
8. C. S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1961), p. 138.
9. On the matter of canon in literary studies, see Robert von Hallberg, ed.,
Canons (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984). On the matter of the construc-
tion of the text by the reader, see Stanley Fish, IsThere aText inThis Class? The Authority
of Interpretive Communities (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980), and Jane
Tompkins, ed., Reader-Response Criticism: From Formalism to Post-Structuralism (Balti-
more, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980).
10. It should also be noted that Lewis does not neglect the principal point in
Stanley Fishs amended theory of reader response, in a word Fishs identification of
the literary profession as the site where reading is stabilized. However, Lewis is not
ready to give up the dependence of that profession and of changes in it on texts. For
this aspect of Fishs work and for a larger critique of it, see my Take, Read: Scripture,
Textuality and Cultural Practice (University Park: Penn State University Press, 1996),
pp. 8085.
11. An Experiment in Criticism, p. 138.
12. Ibid., p. 19.
13. Ibid., p. 83.
14. Roger Lundin, The Culture of Interpretation:Christian Faith and the Postmodern
World (Grand Rapids:William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1993), p. 221.
15. An Experiment in Criticism, p. 138.
16. It may be of interest to some readers to note that Lewiss theory of reading
resembles closely the theory of reading that is the heart of John Calvins doctrine of
Scripture, which is a doctrine of the reading of Scripture. I have tried to argue that this
theory of reading epitomizes a tradition of theory and practice in regard to reading
and finds new expression today in the work of Maurice Blanchot and Julia Kristeva.
See my Take,Read, chaps. 1, 4.
17. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy:The Shape of My Early Life (NewYork: Harcourt
Brace, 1984 [1956], p. 169.
18. Ibid., p. 1078.
19. C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (NewYork: Macmillan, 1944), pp. 8788.
20. C. S. Lewis, They Asked for a Paper: Papers and Addresses (London: Geoffrey
Bles, 1962), pp. 16682.
21. Perelandra, p. 32.
22. Ibid., pp. 4243.
23. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy, p. 218.
24. Ibid., p. 168.
25. Nicomachean Ethics, in The Complete Works of Aristotle, ed. Jonathan
Barnes, vol. 2 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), Book II/7,
p. 1749.
26. Ibid., Book X/1, p. 1853.
27. Amelie Oksenberg Rorty, Akrasia and Pleasure: Nicomachean Ethics
Book 7, in Amelie Oksenberg Rorty, ed., Essays on Aristotles Ethics (Berkeley: Uni-
versity of California Press, 1980), p. 282.

28. Nicomachean Ethics,BookVII/9, p. 1820.
29. C. S. Lewis, Out of the Silent Planet (New York: Macmillan, 1965 [1938]),
p. 73.
30. For a discussion and bibliography on this matter, see Steven Connor, Theory
and Cultural Value (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992), pp. 3454.
31. C. S. Lewis, Perelandra, p. 48.
32. Ibid., p. 130.
33. C. S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength, p. 185.
34. See John Milbank,Can a Gift Be Given? Prolegomena to a Future Trinitar-
ian Metaphysic, in L. Gregory Jones and Stephen E. Fowl, eds., Rethinking Meta-
physics (Blackwell, 1995). pp. 11932.
7: Celebration
1. C. S. Lewis, Prince Caspian (NewYork: Macmillan, 1951), pp. 170171.

2. Ibid., p. 177.
3. Readers with theological interests or who know Lewis well will recognize
that behind his theory of persons whose particularity is revealed in their relationships
stands Lewiss doctrine of the Trinity. Indeed, his doctrine of the Trinity stresses that
God, rather than being single, isolated, and static, is complex, relational, and dynamic.
I do not want to underestimate the importance of the doctrine of the Trinity in his
work, but I think that his theory of human particularity in relationship is based prima-
rily on his doctrine of Creation.
4. C. S. Lewis, Miracles: A Preliminary Study (New York: Macmillan, 1947), pp.
19899.
5. C. S. Lewis, Membership, in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses (New
York: Macmillan, 1949), p. 34.
6. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (NewYork: Macmillan, 1960 [1943]), p. 141.
7. Ibid., p. 42.
8. C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm:Chiefly on Prayer (NewYork: Harcourt, Brace &
World, 1964), p. 85.
9. See, for example, John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory (Oxford: Black-
well, 1990), for an extended and detailed study of the variations and force in Western
thought of assumptions that human life is marked primarily by conflict.
10. Jean-Franois Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge,
trans. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press, 1984), p. 88.
11. See Michel Foucault, Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings
19721977, trans. Colin Gordon et al. (NewYork: Pantheon Books, 1980).
12. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York: Harcourt Brace and Company,
1956), p. 32.
13. However, it should be added that Lewis did not translate Englands role in
the war against Germany fully into the terms of good versus evil, since he did not
note s 187
have a readiness to consider all that England represented as standing for righteousness
and truth.
14. C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (NewYork: Harper Trophy
Edition, 1994 [1950], p. 128.
16. C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, ed.Walter Hooper (NewYork: Harcourt Brace
17. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, p. 95.
18. A great deal of democratic enthusiasm descends from the ideas of people
like Rousseau, who believed in democracy because they thought mankind so wise
and good that every one deserved a share in the government. . . . The real reason for
democracy is just the reverse. Mankind is so fallen that no man can be trusted with
unchecked power over his fellows.C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns, p. 17.
19. If there were such a society in existence [i.e., a Christian society] and you or
I visited it, I think we should come away with a curious impression. We should feel
that its economic life was very socialistic and, in that sense,advanced,but that its fam-
ily life and its code of manners were rather old-fashionedperhaps even ceremonious
and aristocratic.C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, p. 66.
20. But when Dante saw the great apostles they affected him like mountains.
Theres lots to be said against devotion to saints; but at least they keep on reminding us
that we are very small people compared with them. C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm,
p. 13.
21. C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (NewYork: Macmillan, 1943), p. 135.
Conclusion
1. C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (NewYork: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 52.

2. See Frederic Jameson, Postmodernism: Or, the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism
(Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1991).
3. Julia Kristeva, Tales of Love, trans. Leon S. Roudiez (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1987), pp. 279, 294.
4. See Robert N. Bellah,Is There a Common American Culture?Journal of the
American Academy of Religion 66, no. 3 (Fall 1998): 61326.
5. Accounts of religious strains in American culture take either of these ap-
proaches. An example of the first, namely, that such strains are vestiges of a former,
more ecclesiastically located form of religion, is the work of Sacvan Berkovitch, espe-
cially his The American Jeremiad. Examples of the second approach, that is, accounting
for such strains in terms of general theories of the role of religious beliefs and practices
in human cultures, are the work of Catherine Albanese, especially her Faith of the Fa-
thers, and that of Giles B. Gunn, especially his The Interpretation of Otherness:Literature,
Religion and the American Imagination.
6. See my Moral Fiber: Character and Belief in Recent American Fiction (Philadel-
phia: Fortress Press, 1972), esp. the conclusion; Bound to Differ:The Dynamics of Theo-

logical Discourses (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992), esp.
chaps. 3, 6; and Beliefs Americans Share, in Journal of General Education 39, no. 2
(1987): 8597.
7. Irving Howe, Decline of the New (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World,
1970), p. 110.
8. Michael Cowan, City of the West: Emerson, America and Urban Metaphor (New
Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1967), pp. 89112.
note s 189
INDEX
Abelard, 148 Cascardi, Anthony, 36

abstraction, 6, 39, 44, 45, 52, 70, 75, 84, Cather,Willa, 166, 167
85, 88, 100, 107, 135, 155 Christology, 2627, 147
addiction, 13637 church, 10, 15, 23, 26, 30, 65, 9596, 152,
Adey, Lionel, 76 163
Albanese, Catherine, 188 n. 5 Conrad, Joseph, 69
anthropology, moral, 108 conversion, Lewiss, 17, 2225
Aristotle, 27, 111, 131, 13334 Cooper, James Fenimore, 166
Arnold, Matthew, 19, 28, 76 courage, 89
Atonement, doctrine of, 146, 147, 149, Creation, doctrine of, 69, 87, 14244,
15556, 175 n. 29 145, 146, 147, 149, 150, 155, 157,
158, 176 n. 29, 187 n. 3
Bachelard, Gaston, 5456, 65
Bacon, Francis, 36, 47 Dante, Alighieri, 159
Barfield, Owen, 17475 n. 11 Darwin, Charles, 69, 150
Barth, Karl, 87, 14647, 178 n. 16 Davidman, Joy, 11, 44, 116117
Bellah, Robert N., 164 Decartes, Ren, 35
Bergson, Henri, 155 Derrida, Jacques, 180 n. 6
Berkovitch, Sacvan, 188 n. 5 Dillard, Annie, 166
Beversluis, John, 175 n. 27 diversity, in American society, 16768
Bible, 15, 24, 26, 9596, 144, 16465, Du Bois,W. E. B., 167
16768
Blanchot, Maurice, 10 Eagleton, Terry, 19
Bourdieu, Pierre, 66 education, 13, 4041, 8081, 83, 107,
bureaucracy, 13, 45, 69, 116, 169 129, 178 n. 23
Butler, Joseph, 101 Edwards, Bruce L., 126
Eliot, T. S., 34, 38, 64, 76, 180 n. 42
Calvin, John, 24, 186 n. 16 Ellison, Ralph, 167
Cambridge University, 19, 69, 85, 86 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 169
191
The English Patient, 135 joy, 67, 124, 127, 128
epistemology, 12425 Kant, Immanuel, 185 n. 5
erotic love, 45, 49, 128, 12930, 145 King, Jr., Martin Luther, 169
eschatology, 130, 15960 Kristeva, Julia, 10, 163
evangelicalism, 3, 15, 87
language, 9394
Faulkner,William, 167 Lawrence, D. H., 84, 155
Fish, Stanley, 1314, 9293, 174 n. 2, 186 Lazarus, Emma, 70
n. 10 Leavis, F. R., 76
Foucault, Michel, 150, 185 n. 10 Leibniz, Gottfried, 101
Franklin, Benjamin, 167 Lewis, C. S.
Freud, Sigmund, 36, 150 The Abolition of Man, 39, 40, 41, 79, 81,
friendship, 49, 145 8384, 90, 107, 112, 144
The Discarded Image, 74, 181 n. 8
Gardner, John, 166 An Experiment in Criticism, 12527
Geertz, Clifford, 183 n. 7 The Four Loves, 11, 45, 46, 49, 116,
Giesel, Elie, 56 12122, 145
gifts, 138, 141, 145, 159 The Great Divorce, 68, 110
God, 26, 28, 29, 38, 46, 110, 148, 165, 187 A Grief Observed, 62, 161
n. 3 First and Second Things,78
Golding,William, 34, 180 n. 42 The Last Battle, 11, 159, 182 n. 20
Greene, Graham, 34, 146, 180 n. 42 Letters to Malcolm:Chiefly on Prayer, 149
Griffiths, Alan Bede, 24 Lilies that Fester,76
Gunn, Giles, 188 n. 5 The Lion,the Witch and the Wardrobe,
52, 56, 57, 114, 116, 147, 151, 153,
Hardy, Thomas, 84 155
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 167 The Magicians Nephew, 43, 56, 57, 68,
heaven, 23, 41, 6869, 70 114, 137, 144
hell, 23, 41, 45, 68, 103, 15556, 158 Membership,145
Hemingway, Ernest, 166 Mere Christianity, 103, 104, 105, 111,
Hobbes, Thomas, 135, 150 116, 117, 118, 145, 147, 157, 158
Holmer, Paul L. 35, 44, 48, 75 Miracles:A Preliminary Study, 29, 144
homophobia, 11 Out of the Silent Planet, 47, 66, 67, 91,
Hooper,Walter, 85 93, 114, 131, 135, 141
Howe, Irving, 169 Perelandra, 39, 41, 121, 129, 132, 136,
Hume, David, 101 137, 138, 152
The Personal Heresy: A Controversy, 78
idealism, 20, 21, 22, 56, 174 n. 9 Present Concerns, 74, 121, 156
identity, personal, 101, 123, 163 Prince Caspian, 42, 131, 142, 155, 158
imagination, 4344, 50, 51, 54, 55, 57, 59, The Problem of Pain, 25, 29, 159
61, 70, 102, 115, 168, 169, 181 n. 10 Reflections on the Psalms, 23
Religion without Dogma,23
James, Henry, 167 The Screwtape Letters, 41, 45, 86, 103,
Jameson, Fredric, 59 121, 123, 125, 138
Jefferson, Thomas, 167 The Silver Chair, 43

Surprised by Joy, 11, 17, 21, 22, 45, 53, 54, postcolonial theory, 90
67, 124, 128, 129, 132, 144, 152 power, 16, 17, 28, 40, 41, 52, 70, 77, 81,
That Hideous Strength, 11, 23, 43, 44, 84, 107, 131, 134, 13536, 137, 138,
45, 57, 58, 69, 89, 95, 114, 121, 154
137, 141, 144 promising, 11617
Till We Have Faces, 11, 60, 65 Proulx, E. Annie, 166
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 27 Pynchon, Thomas, 169
The Weight of Glory,100
Locke, John, 101 racism, 11, 157
London, 6869 reading, 12527, 128
Lyotard, Jean-Franois, 150 reductionism, 8, 33, 36, 38, 39, 4445,
52, 84, 110, 122, 12831, 13738,
Mailer, Norman, 166 15455
Malamud, Bernard, 167 Reid, Thomas, 101
Maritain, Jacques, 14 Renaissance, 79, 111
Marx, Karl, 36, 150 repetition, 110, 13133, 136
materialism, 14, 21, 25, 61, 7879, 97, rhetoric, 13, 41
131, 169, 182 n. 20 Romanticism, 20, 53, 79, 89, 100, 155
medieval culture, 53, 74, 79, 111, 152, 181
n. 8 Salinger, J. D., 169
Melville, Herman, 166 sanctification, 42, 102, 11718, 131
Milbank, John, 187 n. 9 Satan, 110, 148
Miller, Arthur, 99 Schleiermacher, Friedrich, 177 n. 3
Milton, John, 16, 20, 41 scientific method, 80
miracles, 16, 2829 Sears, John, 70
Moore, R. Laurence, 7 self-consciousness, 7677, 86
self-preoccupation, 22, 25, 3940, 41, 50,
narcissism, 25, 57, 61, 97, 133, 136, 138, 70, 77, 79, 115, 122, 131, 136, 145,
160, 167, 175 n. 18, 182 n. 20 175 n. 18
narrative, 50, 59, 94, 109, 11011, 112, 118 sexism, 11, 157
nature, 7, 48, 49, 56, 60, 81, 139, 156, Shadowlands, 16, 117
16567, 173 n. 4 Shaw, G. B., 155
Nietzsche, Friedrich situational ethics, 113
Smith, Barbara Herrnstein, 8990
OConnor, Flannery, 169 Snow, C. P., 4647
Otto, Rudolf, 29, 61 social sciences, 4445
Oxford University, 19, 20, 24, 43, 69, 85, society, Lewiss theory, 7, 6768
86, 100, 182 n. 24 Spencer, Herbert, 150, 156
St. Anselm, 148
Paine, Tom, 166 St. Augustine, 24, 178 n. 19, 179 n. 28
Penn,William, 167 sublime, 79, 89, 122, 185 n. 5
personal identity, 48, 49, 63, 64 Surin, Kenneth, 39
Peters, Thomas C., 17879 n. 24
Plato, 20, 74, 1089, 111 Tanner, Kathryn, 74
popular religion, in America, 67, 173 n. 1 textuality, 58, 65, 18081 n. 6
i nde x 193
theodicy, 16, 2829 Vonnegut, Jr., Kurt, 169
Thoreau, Henry David, 169
Tillyard, E. M.W., 86 Weber, Max, 34, 36, 37, 39, 45, 69, 116
Twain, Mavle, 166 Whitman,Walt, 169
Wiesel, Elie, 56
Vico, Giambattista, 36 Williams, Charles, 68
virtues Williams, Roger, 167
cardinal, 11117 Winthrop, John, 169
theological, 11718 Wolterstorff, Nicholas, 7

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C. S.

Lewis Then and Now

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

Copyright 2001 by Wesley A. Kort

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

I completed this project while in residence as a senior fellow in the Erasmus

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It carries the Word of God; and we (under grace, with attention to

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While considering acts of retrieval, we pondered our relation to the past. In

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Lewis believed that religion, especially Christianity, allows people to give an

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