A Portuguese Pope & C.S. Lewis

A few days ago marked the anniversary of the 1277 death of Pope John XXI. I knew nothing about this particular Pontiff, but the mention I read described his passing due to the collapse of the ceiling of his residence. That piqued my interest, but the following forced me to spend some time researching to learn more: “The name was a mistake – there was never a John XX.”

One of the very few email lists I’ve never regretted signing up for is “Today in Christian History” produced by Christianity Today.

Each day it provides brief notes about several historical events that happened on that particular day. Most of the notes describe historically watershed incidents. Others are simply curious, though they were naturally momentous to those involved.

The opening of this post offers an example from the latter category. Unlike the reign of Pope Francis, who ascended a decade ago and has indicated he has no intention of “retiring” before death (as did his humble predecessor Benedict XVI), the unfortunate John XXI sat on the papal throne for a mere nine months.

Despite this brief reign, there are several interesting things about Pedro Julião. (I’ll save the one I regard as most important for last.)

First of all, John XXI was Portuguese. Hailing from the Iberian Peninsula, he represents no less than 50% of the popes who came from Portugal. The first, Damasus I (305-84), came from the Roman province of Lusitania, which included a portion of Spain in addition to modern Portugal.

One paradox of the Papacy is that the Pope is the Bishop of the diocese of Rome, presiding over a physical geographic locale, while he is simultaneously the Bishop of the “Holy See,” meaning that he serves as the episcopal head of the entire international Roman Catholic communion.

Due to the physical location of the Roman Patriarchate, it is unsurprising that a majority of the individuals who have followed Saint Peter as Pontiff have been Italian. World Population Review says 217 of the 266 Popes have been from Italy. “A distant second is France, which has had a total of 16 popes.”

J.R.R. Tolkien was a truly devout Roman Catholic, but C.S. Lewis recognized that the church headquartered in Rome was merely one part of the Body of Christ whose unity he argued was founded in an understanding of the Mere Christianity Lewis propounded. Much to Tolkien’s chagrin, his good friend Lewis never converted to Roman Catholicism.

Roman Catholics still seek C.S. Lewis’ imprimatur. One prominent Roman Catholic apologist, Joe Heschmeyer, has a personal blog delightfully titled Shameless Popery. (I highly respect truth in advertising like his website exhibits.) In “C.S. Lewis’ Surprising Argument for the Papacy,” he argues that Lewis’ argument for a traditional view of marriage offers support to the rationale for papal authority.

Unlike some Protestants, C.S. Lewis was not tempted to construct a strawman out of the papacy. In an interesting passage from his monumental history of English Literature in the Sixteenth Century, he emphasizes the shared legacy of Roman Catholicism and robust Protestantism. 

To be sure, there are standards by which the early Protestants could be called “puritanical;” they held adultery, fornication, and perversion for deadly sins. But then so did the Pope. If that is puritanism, all Christendom was then puritanical together.

In much the same way that C.S. might argue that “all Christendom” shared not only a common moral awareness, but also a mutual understanding of God’s self-revealed Triune nature.

In addition to being a rare specimen as a Portuguese Pope, John XXI studied medicine and is thought to have been a noteworthy pharmacologist. In fact, the apartment in the papal palace in Viterbo which collapsed on him was constructed so he would have a quiet place in which to pursue his medical studies.

Second, as already mentioned, another peculiar thing about John XXI, is the choice of his papal name. There never was a Pope John XX. One would imagine the church bureaucracy would keep accurate records of these sorts of things. Even more strangely, there is more than one explanation for why Pedro Julião became John XXI at his consecration.

According to Brittanica “Marianus Scotus and other 11th-century historians mistakenly believed that there had been a pope named John between antipope Boniface VII and the true John XV.” Consequently, “they mistakenly numbered the real popes John XV to XIX as John XVI to XX” requiring that they subsequently be “renumbered XV to XIX.” Yet, for some reason, “John XXI and John XXII continue to bear numbers that they themselves formally adopted on the assumption that there had indeed been 20 Johns before them.”

As a result, the title John XX presumably remains available for any future Bishop of Rome who might wish to further confuse the matter. We may have to wait until the Parousia to learn the full facts in this convoluted matter.

A third distinctive of John XXI is that he rescinded a very common sense decree established by his predecessor Gregory X, only two years prior to John’s ascension. (Actually, Adrian V was elected pope between the two, but Ottobuono de’ Fieschi died shortly after his election, before he could even be ordained to the priesthood. (There must be another interesting tale there.)

Returning to the story of the rescinded canon . . . Apparently there was a long papal vacancy (nearly three years) before Gregory X was elected. To avoid such predicaments in the future, at the Second Council of Lyon Gregory pushed for this sensible rule: if the new pope is not elected in a reasonable time frame, encouragement would be provided to the conclave by having their episcopal meals and other rewards gradually diminish!

The entire, fascinating “constitution” is available at Eternal World Television Network. Here is the essence:

We learn from the past how heavy are the losses sustained by the Roman church in a long vacancy, how perilous it is . . . We intend in no way to detract from [previous rules primarily instituted by Pope Alexander III], but to supply by the present constitution what experience has shown to be missing.

If, which God forbid, within three days after the cardinals have entered the said conclave, the church has not been provided with a shepherd, they are to be content for the next five days, every day both at dinner and supper, with one dish only. If these days also pass without the election of a pope, henceforth only bread, wine and water are to be served to the cardinals until they do provide a pope.

While the election is in process, the cardinals are to receive nothing from the papal treasury, nor any other revenue coming from whatever source to the church while the see is vacant.

For some unrevealed reason, John XXI revoked this rule, and it was back to business as usual. The decision to do so was one of John’s few official acts.

C.S. Lewis, Once Again

One reason Christians of all denominational traditions find much to appreciate in C.S. Lewis comes from the fact he was much more interested in edifying believers than tearing them down. He preferred to promote Christian unity over division.

One of his close friends, with whom he carried on a long term correspondence was a Benedictine monk named Bede Griffiths. Ironically, while Griffiths became renowned for his embrace of elements of Hindu spirituality, the priest appeared less tolerant of C.S. Lewis’ Protestant doctrines. In a letter from 1936, Lewis’ frustration on that score comes through loud and clear.

One of the most important differences between us is our estimate of the importance of the differences. You, in your charity, are anxious to convert me: but I am not in the least anxious to convert you.

You think my specifically Protestant beliefs a tissue of damnable errors: I think your specifically Catholic beliefs a mass of comparatively harmless human tradition which may be fatal to certain souls under special conditions, but which I think suitable for you. . . .

As well – who wants to debate with a man who begins by saying that no argument can possibly move him? Talk sense, man! With other Catholics I find no difficulty in deriving much edification from religious talk on the common ground: but you refuse to show any interest except in differences.

These words were written (1) privately, to a friend, (2) in the form of an extemporaneous letter, and (3) tinged with the frustration of returning to a familiar “debate” with a recalcitrant disputant.

Fortunately, however, we possess an essay written by Lewis on the same subject which was composed in the opposite context. It was intentionally composed for a general audience, written in C.S. Lewis’ natural painstakingly logical and clear literary voice, and composed in his conciliatory spirit with a focus on affirming what is shared and illuminating – but not dwelling upon – differences.

In 1944 C.S. Lewis penned an essay entitled “Christian Reunion.” Sadly, it was never completed for publication during his lifetime. This brief work reveals his deeper thoughts on interdenominational distinctives, and the overriding unity Christians possess through our relationship in Jesus Christ. It is written primarily to a Roman Catholic audience, in a respectful and genuinely compassionate tone.

A Pilgrim in Narnia has provided the universal (“catholic” with a small “c”) Church a great service in reproducing the full text of the essay here.

Dr. Dickieson also provides a concise and helpful introduction. I offer only a selection from Lewis’ essay here, as befits the nature of our current discussion.

I know no way of bridging this gulf [between the major Christian traditions]. Nor do I think it the business of the private layman to offer much advice on bridge-building to his betters. My only function as a Christian writer is to preach “mere Christianity” not ad clerum [to the clergy] but ad populum [to the people].

Any success that has been given me has, I believe, been due to my strict observance of those limits. By attempting to do otherwise I should only add one more recruit (and a very ill qualified recruit) to the ranks of the controversialists. After that I should be no more use to anyone.

When therefore we find a certain heavenly unity existing between really devout persons of differing creeds – a mutual understanding and even a power of mutual edification which each may lack towards a lukewarm member of his own denomination – we must ascribe this to the work of Christ . . . 

Ultimately, C.S. Lewis’ reservations about Roman Catholicism rested where they do for most thinking Christians who belong to other denominations. Its focus can be distilled down to a “disagreement about the seat and nature of doctrinal Authority.” Although he does not expressly state the conviction here that Scripture supersedes the ultimate weight of a single opinion, say of someone such as Pope John XXI, that is the concern.

We will end with C.S. Lewis’ astute analysis of the two parts of the Christian family as they view one another across the proverbial Tiber. In doing so, I offer the fruits of my own recent theological quest. Precipitated by a contemporarily trivial event during the thirteenth century, it culminated in another deep draught from the wisdom of C.S. Lewis.

The difficulty that remains . . . is our disagreement about the seat and nature of doctrinal Authority. The real reason, I take it, why you cannot be in communion with us is not your disagreement with this or that particular Protestant doctrine, so much as the absence of any real “Doctrine,” in your sense of the word, at all.

It is, you feel, like asking a man to say he agrees not with a speaker but with a debating society.

And the real reason why I cannot be in communion with you is not my disagreement with this or that Roman doctrine, but that to accept your Church means, not to accept a given body of doctrine, but to accept in advance any doctrine your Church hereafter produces. It is like being asked to agree not only to what a man has said but to what he’s going to say.

Postscript

As an illustration of the C.S. Lewis’ point about authority resting in the current “successor of Peter,” consider the decisions rendered by Gregory X and John XXI about papal enclaves. It seems to me that the first admonition about not indulging those in attendance was wiser than the subsequent decision to restore the earlier policies. But then, that may simply be due to the fact that I’m a Protestant. Unless the rules have been revised since John’s passing, I assume most Roman Catholics would agree that he was led by the Holy Spirit in reversing the decree of the Second Council of Lyon.

Inkling Linguistics

Last week I wrote about “Learning Languages,” and I promised to follow up with a related theme – the creation of new words and languages. Let’s consider the simple matter first.

Adding New Words

Anyone can make up a new word. The problem is whether we have enough influence to have it adopted and used by another human being. (I add this qualifier to eliminate those who might attempt to skirt the question by simply training parrots to mimic the new word.) As Scientific American relates, 

When parrots are kept as pets, they learn their calls from their adoptive human social partners. Part of their appeal as pets is their ability to sing lower notes than smaller birds and so better reproduce human voices.

So, while you may be able to trick one of your parrots into repeating a novel “word,” that doesn’t count for our purposes here.

Likewise, any other birds who mimic speech, including musk ducks and corvids (ravens, crows and their ilk). In fact, let’s exclude all nonhuman “speakers” from consideration. After all, AZ Animals introduces readers to seven specific animals of different species (only one of which is avian) whose “forebrain is . . . responsible for some animals’ ability to mimic speech.” 

So, animals aside, who embraces and disseminates newly invented new words? Some words, of course, find a partially prepared or receptive audience because they are imported from other tongues. The global influence of English makes other languages especially vulnerable to its influence, which can be deeply resented. The “corruption” of mother tongues sometimes elicits reactionary responses – such as Italy’s current effort to purge English from the Italian Republic.

And some Italians are extremely serious about the task, proposing fines up to €100000. (That is not a typo; at today’s exchange rate it would be $109,857.50.) Their animus toward English follows the path established by the French, who frequently default to Napoléon’s order to refer to Britain as “perfidious Albion.” The Académie Française goes so far as to repudiate specific words, including business, cash, digital, vintage, label, and deadline.

Vocabulary adopted from other nation’s may be “new” to their most recent users, but such importation is certainly not the same as fabricating novel words from the proverbial “whole cloth.”

True Neologisms

I wrote a moment ago that creating words is easy, but persuading others to use them is quite another thing. I’ve discussed this subject in the past, in “Create a Word Today” and “Creative Definitions.” Sadly – and fittingly – none of my personal neologisms have caught on.

Popular creative writers may, however, find their fancies adopted by larger audiences. Shakespeare’s “bedazzled” was birthed in The Taming of the Shrew. The “chortle” was first heard in Lewis Carol’s “Jabberwocky.” “Pandemonium” was revealed as the capital of Hell in Milton’s Paradise Lost. And the first “Nerd” was encountered in Dr. Seuss’ If I Ran the Zoo.

Some neologists were particularly prolific. How about these few additional examples from the Bard: 

Bandit ~ Henry VI
Dauntless ~ Henry VI
Lackluster ~ As You Like It
Dwindle ~ Henry IV

Oh, and Grammarly adds, “Shakespeare must have loved the prefix un- because he created or gave new meaning to more than 300 words that begin with it.” Can you imagine a world without:

Unaware ~ Venus & Adonis
Uncomfortable ~ Romeo & Juliet
Undress ~ Taming of the Shrew
Unearthly ~ The Winter’s Tale
Unreal ~ Macbeth

Before moving on, it would be fair to note that some voices consider this achievement by Shakespeare to be “a common myth.”

It turns out that Shakespeare’s genius was not in coining new words – it was in hearing new words and writing them down before they became widespread, and in wringing new meaning out of old, worn-out words: turning “elbow” into a verb and “where” into a noun. He didn’t invent the words, but he knew how to use them better than anyone.

C.S. Lewis was not a philologist, but he did create a few novel words. The Inkling scholar who pens A Pilgrim in Narnia has written on this subject here and here.

J.R.R. Tolkien was no slouch at inventing English words himself. Some which now reside in our common vocabulary include hobbit and orc. The latter he derived from an Old English word, orcþyrs, a devouring monster associated with Hell. More surprisingly, Tolkien created the modern word “tween,” albeit in the context of hobbits, who lived longer lives than we.

At that time Frodo was still in his tweens, as the hobbits called the irresponsible twenties between childhood and coming of age at thirty-three.

Envisioning novel words is relatively simple, but inventing an entire language, is an infinitely more complex challenge. The universally acknowledged master is J.R.R. Tolkien, whose Elvish tongue has become a “living” language.* But he was not alone in building internally consistent linguistic systems. Albeit, no philologist came near to Tolkien’s expertise, which included elaborate etymologies.

Before considering Tolkien himself, we will note several other efforts of a similar kind. And, following a discussion of Tolkien, we will conclude with a note about his good friend, C.S. Lewis. For, despite the fact that Lewis was not a philologist himself, it is interesting to note that he too dabbled in creatio linguarum.

Inventing New Languages

Some “constructed languages” are formed with practical purposes. Esperanto, birthed in 1887, incorporated elements from existing languages and was envisioned as a common “international auxiliary language.” It boasts its own flag, and claims to be the native language of approximately a thousand people.

One curious use of Esperanto came in its adoption by the United States Army as the “Aggressor Language” used in twentieth century wargames. The curious can download a copy of the now-rescinded Field Manual 30-101-1, which provided guidance for its usage “which will enhance intelligence play and add realism to field exercises.”

Another genuine constructed language is Interlingua. Developed between 1937 and 1951, it is based primarily on the shared (and simplified) grammar and vocabulary of Western European languages. 

In addition to languages constructed for international use, there are a variety of tongues created for fictional applications. “To learn Klingon or Esperanto” describes how linguistic anthropologist Christine Schreyer “invented several languages for the movie industry: the Kryptonian language for ‘Man of Steel,’ Eltarian for ‘Power Rangers,’ Beama (Cro-Magnon) for “Alpha” and Atlantean for ‘Zack Snyder’s Justice League.’” While none of these could ever rival the languages of Middle Earth, her bona fide linguistic credentials place her in a context similar to J.R.R. Tolkien. The interview reveals how Schreyer balances her creative impulses with her anthropological concerns.

I teach a course on linguistic anthropology, in which I give my students the task of creating new languages as they learn about the parts of languages. Around the time I started doing that, “Avatar” came out. The Na’vi language from that movie was very popular at the time and had made its way into many news stories about people learning the language – and doing it quickly.

My other academic research is on language revitalization, with indigenous or minority communities. One of the challenges we have is it takes people a long time to learn a language. I was interested to know what endangered-language communities could learn from these created-language fan communities, to learn languages faster.

Other fictional languages that exist include R’lyehian (from Lovecraft’s nightmare cosmos), Lapine (from Watership Down), Fremen, the Arabic/alien blending (from Dune), Parseltongue (ala Harry Potter), Dothraki (from Game of Thrones), Ewokese, etc. (from Star Wars), Goa’uld and others (from Stargate), Minbari and more (from Babylon 5), and the gutturally combative Klingon and others (from Star Trek). This brief list is far from exhaustive.

Tolkien, Lewis & New Languages

The languages forged by J.R.R. Tolkien are unrivaled by any conceivable measure one might employ. They are no mere stage dressing, like some of the aforementioned examples. Even those with developed vocabularies and consistent grammar fall far short of Tolkien’s creation. In terms of the histories of his languages, his diligent etymologies beggar all other such efforts. Of course, for Tolkien this was no competition. He was driven to make his languages as flawless – not “perfect,” but realistic – as humanly possible. It was a linchpin in his subcreative labor.

As a skilled calligrapher, Tolkien devised unique alphabets to complement his languages. The letters in his alphabets were not devised as mere adornments. Tolkien left that to lesser imaginations. Nor were his scripts restricted to Tolkien’s fiction. The Tolkien Estate offers an insightful essay on “Writing Systems.”

Tolkien also used invented scripts that were not associated with any of his fictional worlds. An early example is the Privata Kodo Skauta (Private Scout Code), which appears in a still unpublished notebook from 1909 called the Book of the Foxrook. This makes use of a phonetic code-alphabet, as well as a number of ideographic symbols representing full words. . . .

Toward the end of his life, Tolkien made use of the New English Alphabet, a phonetic script that combined the logical structural principles of the Angerthas and the Tengwar with letters that looked more like Greek or Latin. The alphabet has not yet been published in full, but examples can be seen in . . . J.R.R. Tolkien: Artist & Illustrator.

The footnote below links to some resources for those who would like to learn how to speak the languages of the elves. By way of help with pronunciations, remember the following advice:

Use an Italian accent to pull off Quenya speech patterns. In general, you can kind of sound Elvish – even without following the rules of the language – by applying an Italian accent when pronouncing Quenyan words. Native Italian speakers tend to use speech patterns from their native tongues to interpret English words, which can make your Elvish sound practiced even when it isn’t.

Speak with an Irish or Scottish accent to pull off a natural Sindarin accent. Irish and Scottish speakers tend to speak English by emphasizing sounds in the front of a word regardless of the standard pronunciation. This is a pretty good method for pronouncing Sindarin words, since the vast majority of them stress the first syllable.

For those who want to quickly capture some Elvish script without the effort of studying, consider the English to Elvish online translator, which is offered by the company that fashioned The One Ring for Peter Jackson’s cinematic epics. I decided to test the translation tool and posed the question: “Does AI translation of English to Quenya actually work?” The software swiftly complied.

It looks elegantly correct, but unfortunately, I’m unable to personally verify its accuracy. And I must confess to modest trepidation since the site advises:

USE CAUTION BEFORE COMMITTING TO ANY TATTOOS, INSCRIPTIONS AND ENGRAVINGS” [triple emphasis in original].

The Jens Hansen site sells jewelry, as befits the fasioners of The One Ring. In addition to hosting the translator, they offer a free pdf document called Elvish 101 in 5 Minutes. It’s an interesting document, but it reveals a limitation I assume is shared by the online generator. It is a resource for transliterating, not translating, words. Not quite the same thing . . . but the script still looks elegant. 

Tolkien was the master of creating languages for his subcreation, but C.S. Lewis also used the same technique in the writing of his Space Trilogy. Each work focuses on an individual planet in our solar system, which is referred to in the books as the Field of Arbol.

While a number of languages have developed over time, the original language, known as Old Solar, is retained by some, and learned by the series’ protagonist Dr. Elwin Ransom. Ransom is a philologist at Cambridge, and as he is modeled after Tolkien, it’s no surprise his first name means “elf friend.”

In Perelandra, Ransom describes how a language he learned on Mars was once shared by all.

“It appears we were quite mistaken in thinking Hressa-Hlab the peculiar speech of Mars. It is really what may be called Old Solar, Hlab-Eribol-ef-Cordi. . . . there was originally a common speech for all rational creatures inhabiting the planets of our system: those that were ever inhabited, I mean – what the eldila (angels) call the Low Worlds. . . .

That original speech was lost on Thulcandra, our own world, when our whole tragedy [the Fall] took place. No human language now known in the world is descended from it.”

Lewis’ use of Old Solar is sparing, but a partial lexicon can be found at FrathWiki. There, for example, you will learn that “honodraskrud” is Old Solar for a “Groundweed; an edible pinkish-white kind of weed, found all over the handramit” of Malacandra (Mars).

The accomplishments of Tolkien and Lewis are difficult to compare. These two brilliant scholars shared a great many interests, but wrote with far different goals. We rightfully expect genius to vary between such individuals. This is well illustrated by their differing treatments of constructed languages, as Martha Sammons describes so well in War of the Fantasy Worlds.

Tolkien began with invented languages and then developed an elaborate mythology to create a world where his languages could exist. Lewis’s works began with mental pictures; he would then find the appropriate ‘‘form’’ to tie together the images. . . .

[Tolkien’s] penchant for historical and linguistic detail is unparalleled. In contrast . . . Lewis uses just enough language, geography, and science to make his novels believable.

While either approach may inspire those among us who aspire to writing, we best avoid attempting to emulate either author. Best, I believe, to compose our epics with the language that most naturally flows from our pen.


* While some fans of Klingon and Na’vi may learn to speak in those tongues, the students of the languages of Arda, typically possess greater ardor for the languages of Middle Earth. For example, an online guide to learning Elven languages begins by answering the question, “why study Elvish?” And a free online course for learning Quenya is offered here. Among the Quenya dictionaries, the finest free example is available at Quenya-English Dictionary English-Quenya Dictionary.

Learning Languages

C.S. Lewis possessed a gift for languages. Although he was not a philologist like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, Lewis was well educated and read and spoke a variety of languages.

In fact, when he and his wife played Scrabble, they allowed for the use of words from any language! For the record, though, he does confess to a German professor that his grasp of that tongue is “wretched.”

The only bona fide genius I’ve known was a classmate at the University of Washington. While I was struggling with classical Greek, in preparation for seminary, at the age of 23 Bruce already possessed four master’s degrees and was closing in on his PhD in Linguistics. He spoke fifteen languages, but could read nineteen.

Of course, that is still a small portion of the 7,168 languages Ethnologue tells us are in use today.

This enormous number – which doesn’t include unknown languages spoken among untouched people groups – accounts for the fact that thousands of Christians are laboring now in groups such as Lutheran Bible Translators to make the Scriptures available to all people.

Sometimes this involves creating a written language itself, where only an oral version exists. The largest such organization, Wycliffe Global Alliance, reports that “Bible translation is currently happening in 2,846 languages in 157 countries.”

While the Bible’s translation is certainly of utmost importance, it is wonderful to know that other valuable literature is also made available to readers who could not decipher the language in which it was originally composed. 

Lewis, in fact, was a translator in his own right. Beyond the literal translation of works from one tongue to another, Lewis also functioned as a “translator” of complex concepts and eternal truths. I once described this as C.S. Lewis’ bilingualism.

How many extremely intelligent and well educated people do you know . . . who can actually communicate with those of us possessing normal human intelligence? That talent is a rarity.

And it is precisely what makes C.S. Lewis such an unusual man. He was brilliant. Yet he could communicate with the common person – even the child – just as easily as he conversed with his fellow university dons.

C.S. Lewis mastered a number of modern languages, but it was his study of historic languages that especially inspired him. Icelandic, with its similarity to Old Norse, is one example about which I have written. 

. . . J.R.R. Tolkien and his friend C.S. Lewis established a group called Kolbitár which was devoted to reading Icelandic and Norse sagas. The word itself means “coal biter” and refers to those in a harsh environment drawing so close to the fire’s warmth they can almost bite the coals.

Another example is Old English. Along with Middle English, birthed by the Norman Conquest, these were essential elements of his training as one of the preeminent English scholars of Oxford and Cambridge. And these languages were not merely dusty relics. I encourage the curious to read “C.S. Lewis’s Unpublished Letter in Old English,” which appeared in the journal VII.

In 1926 C.S. Lewis wrote his friend Nevill Coghill a letter in Old English, a language also known as Anglo-Saxon. Unreadable for most current readers of Lewis, it understandably does not appear in his three-volume Collected Letters.

In the essay, George Musacchio provides an illuminating outline of Lewis’ diverse expertise with languages, both “foreign and domestic.” Lewis began the letter to his friend with the following salutation.

“Leowis ceorl hateð gretan Coghill eoorl luflice ond freondlice.”
Which translates as: “Lewis the churl bids to greet Coghill the earl.”

Is English Really that Difficult to Learn?

English is reputed to be one of the most challenging languages to learn. (More on this in a moment.) For example, the simple sentence which follows consists of a mere seven words, but holds seven different meanings, dependent upon which word is emphasized.

“I never said she stole my money.”

This example comes from an article entitled “English is Hard, But Can Be Understood Through Tough Thorough Thought Though.”

Rosetta Stone answers the question of how hard it is to learn English by saying “it depends on your first language.” 

In addition to the fact that “spelling is a poor indicator of pronunciation,” English possesses numerous “specific rules,” and complements this burden with the fact that “some rules have lots of exceptions.” The complexity is due to the language’s history, which also gave rise to its mammoth vocabulary.

English has a lot of words—Webster’s English Dictionary includes approximately 470,000 entries, and it’s estimated that the broader English vocabulary may include around a million words. . . .

English has such a broad vocabulary because it’s a blend of several different root languages. While English is a West Germanic language in its sounds and grammar, much of the vocabulary also stems from Romance languages, such as Latin, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese.

One result of combining these various root languages is that the English vocabulary includes a ton of synonyms . . . And unfortunately, most of these synonyms aren’t fully interchangeable, so the exact word you choose does have an impact on the overall meaning.

It turns out English doesn’t even rank in the top three most difficult languages for the speakers of the five largest language groups. The ranked listings do include, however, Arabic, Japanese, Russian, and Mandarin.

So, let’s reverse the question for a moment. Which languages are the most difficult for a native English speaker to learn? Unbabel lists ten. Fortunately, only one of them is on my wish list.

Babbel Magazine has an article approaching that question from the opposite end. Which language is easiest for English speakers to learn.

This may come as a surprise, but we have ranked Norwegian as the easiest language to learn for English speakers. Norwegian is a member of the Germanic family of languages — just like English! This means the languages share quite a bit of vocabulary, such as the seasons vinter and sommer (we’ll let you figure out those translations).

Another selling point for Norwegian: the grammar is pretty straightforward, with only one form of each verb per tense. And the word order closely mimics English. For example, “Can you help me?” translates to Kan du hjelpe meg? — the words are in the same order in both languages, so mastering sentence structure is a breeze!

Finally, you’ll have a lot more leeway with pronunciation when learning Norwegian. That’s because there are a vast array of different accents in Norway and, therefore, more than one “correct way” to pronounce words.

An article I wrote seven years ago hints at that same conclusion. I made this informative, and mildly threatening, illustration for “Norse Linguistic Invasion.”

Oxford Royale Academy lists several reasons why English is especially challenging to new students. The following issue of “irregularities” also plagues countless native speakers.

One of the hardest things about English is that although there are rules, there are lots of exceptions to those rules – so just when you think you’ve got to [come to] grips with a rule, something comes along to shatter what you thought you knew by contradicting it.

A good example is the rule for remembering whether a word is spelt “ie” or “ei:” “I before E except after C.” Thus “believe” and “receipt.”

But this is English – it’s not as simple as that. What about “science?” Or “weird?” Or “seize?”

There are loads of irregular verbs, too, such as “fought”, which is the past tense of “fight”, while the past tense of “light” is “lit.” So learning English isn’t just a question of learning the rules – it’s about learning the many exceptions to the rules.

The numerous exceptions make it difficult to apply existing knowledge and use the same principle with a new word, so it’s harder to make quick progress.

And even some of the normative “rules” are difficult to grasp. One example is that there’s a very specific order that adjectives must be listed ahead of a noun. According to Rosetta Stone,

The adjective order is: quantity, opinion, size, age, shape, color, origin/material, qualifier, and then noun. For example, “I love my big old yellow dog.” Saying these adjectives in any other order, like “I love my yellow old big dog,” will sound wrong, even when otherwise the sentences are exactly the same and communicate the same thing. Keeping rules like this in mind can be tricky, and it takes a lot of practice to get it right.

Adjective order is seldom considered, in part because it’s not considered good writing to string too many such words together. But apparently there are right and wrong ways to organize any such list.

Royal Order of Adjectives

Most students aren’t taught about adjective order in school and instead learn it through listening and reading. In English, the rules regarding adjective order are more specific than they are in other languages; that is why saying adjectives in a specific order sounds “right,” and deviating from that order makes a statement sound “wrong,” even if it’s otherwise grammatically perfect.

And, since we’re talking about English, even this Royal Order of Adjectives rule has exceptions

The hierarchy is not absolute, and there is some wiggle room among the “fact” categories – size, age, and so on – in the middle.

Native speakers are often delighted when they learn about this law and discover how flawlessly they apply it. It even went viral in 2016 . . . The tweet attached a paragraph by etymologist Mark Forsyth . . . giving an example that uses all the categories according to the OSASCOMP hierarchy: “a lovely little old rectangular green French silver whittling knife.”

I do not ever recall being taught (or reading on my own) about the “Royal Order of Adjectives.” Nevertheless, I don’t feel too embarrassed at acknowledging my previous ignorance, since even Lewis himself was comfortable in expressing gratitude for being introduced to new words. For example, when he thanked Dorothy Sayers for enlarging his vocabulary with her work on Dante.

So, is English all that challenging? Well, C.S. Lewis did his part to make it less daunting, joining a public debate in Britain, with an unexpected argument. Discussing English’s previously noted problem with inconsistencies and confusion in spelling, the don offered a simple solution.

In a column on Lewis and the history of words, I included an extended passage from a letter Lewis wrote challenging a contemporary British effort to “reform” spelling. Surprisingly, he argued against the necessity for uniformity in spelling. After explaining why our language functions as it does, he advocates:

As things are, surely Liberty is the simple and inexpensive ‘Reform’ we need? This would save children and teachers thousands of hours’ work.

Surely all but the most diehard grammarians would be sympathetic to his argument.

Next week I plan to write about another linguistic matter closely associated with the Inklings – the creation of new words and languages.

Discerning Your Personality

How has your personality been changing through the years? Over the years I’ve noticed some gentle shifts in my own personality, particularly as it relates to my attitudes toward interacting with others.

C.S. Lewis records an intriguing comment about personalities in his early diary, published now as All My Road Before Me. After WWI, he fulfilled his promise to a friend who perished in the conflict, by providing for the soldier’s mother and young sister. Lewis’ relationship with Janie Moore has been debated, but he referred to her as “his mother,” his birth mother having died when he was young. 

Lewis refers to Mrs. Moore as “D” in the diary, and Maureen, her daughter, would have been a teenager at the time (January of 1923).

At supper the subject of personality arose – I said that it made one giddy to think that oneself might not have been.

Maureen said, “Yes – I was wishing the other day that you had married someone else (to D) and then I thought, Oh, it wouldn’t make any difference to me, I shouldn’t have been there.” This shows me that she thinks more than I had hoped.

The three people seated at that dinner experienced personality changes during the following years. Many of these attitudes and behaviors have been recorded for posterity. 

Some change is natural. Healthy change should be considered “growth.” People who remain rigidly static are the exception. Nevertheless, normal temperament modifications are usually quite gradual. Major alterations usually precipitated by significant emotional events. And, it’s important to recognize these SEMs can be positive – such as the birth of a child – despite our human tendency to focus on those which are traumatic.

So, how does one asess their personality? There are a variety of accessible personality inventories. One of the most accessible identifies sixteen basic personality types, as popularized by Katherine Cook Briggs and Isabel Briggs Myers in the Myers Briggs Type Indicator. Using questionnaires of various length and detail, individuals discover their core personality attributes. 

It is quite common for people using one of these MBTI-based inventories to be truly surprised at the accuracy of the instrument. Many choose to embark on a quest to learn more about themselves – and others. There are resources for using these insights to improve interaction with people of other types, and even to find a compatible type of career.

I recently stumbled across a simple-to-use website that I offer for your consideration. Sixteen Personalities not only aids you in identifying your “type,” it offers a number of additional types of supplemental data – many of them for free. One clearly outlines the strengths and weaknesses of people with your personality. 

Readers will notice I’m careful to refer to the tools used as assessments or inventories, not tests. That’s because the word “test” implies that there are right and wrong answers. The fact is that there are no invalid personality types.

Each combination possesses its own strengths, and its inevitable weaknesses. Often they are two sides of the same coin. For example, the 16 Personalities site includes ten such traits for the Protagonist (ENFJ). Here are two of the examples.

A Strength – Reliable – Few things bother Protagonists more than the prospect of letting down a person or cause that they believe in. People with this personality type can be counted on to see their promises and responsibilities through – even when it’s difficult to do so.

A Weakness – Overly Empathetic – Compassion is among this personality type’s greatest strengths. But Protagonists have a tendency to take on other people’s problems as their own – a habit that can leave them emotionally and physically exhausted.

The Reality of Personality Drift

It isn’t uncommon that over a period of years, personality type (as identified by these sixteen options) can change. This is particularly true when we are near equilibrium between two competing attributes. For example, as a young pastor, I was slightly Extravert. Today, I am modestly Introverted. Some of this is due to being “worn out” by excessive interpersonal interactions. Some, I suspect, is because I’m assessing my preferences more honestly. I really do draw more positive energy from small groups, than crowds.

But pastors, of course, are expected to be people people. So many of us do consciously push ourselves to become more of an Extravert than we truly are. (And many people would be quite surprised to learn how many of the pastors they’ve admired for their personability are actually Introverts.)

In my own situation I have a pair of weak preferences – Introvert over Extravert and Thinking over Feeling – and two quite strong preferences – iNtuitive over Sensing and Judging over Perceiving. Due to the balanced aspect of two characteristics, I possess a sort of blend of four different personalities. And, I could be fairly perceived by others as any of them.

One last element of the 16 Personalities version of the MBTI, is that it includes a measurement of one’s Assertive versus Turbulent nature.

Assertive and turbulent refer to opposing personality traits sometimes added to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), a personality inventory. An assertive person is more calm, confident, and laid-back, while a turbulent person is more anxious, self-conscious, and perfectionist.

The labels, when used, are appended to the standard four-letter MBTI codes to lend further nuance to the psychological types. 

No one who knows me would be surprised to learn that I peg out as Assertive. One clear evidence is that no one has ever accused me of being a Perfectionist.

Was C.S. Lewis an ESFP?

Seven years ago I wrote about this subject, and I researched the question of which personality C.S. Lewis possessed.

The consensus seemed to be that he was an INTJ. One current discussion concurs with that assessment, although it also makes the subject a bit more complex by including the “Harold Grant cognitive function stack,” something I’ve never studied.

Lewis’ identity as an INTF remains most reasonable to me. Feel free to share your thoughts on the matter.

Remember, a personality inventory is not intended to put you in some sort of restrictive box. If the tool is not helpful to you, just ignore it. And, if you are wary of how such revelations might be used “against” you, share those concerns with any authorities (e.g. educators or employers) who want you to participate in a group process.

[You might dismiss such a concern, but I can personally attest to a situation where a senior military chaplain attempted to twist the MBTI results of a Roman Catholic chaplain to suggest he had “issues.” Suffice it to say it was really the colonel who had psychological problems, not the captain.]

That sad episode was, fortunately, unique in my experience. In any case, it should not prevent someone from personally discovering their personality type. It’s free, only takes a few minutes, and the dividends could well surprise you.

And, if you are curious about what type characterizes a particular breed of dog or cat . . . I think this site was right on in labeling our border collie an ENFJ.

CS Lewis | Skeletons

Deep Thoughts from the Quill of the Other C.S. Lewis

Welcome to another in an occasional series of fictitious quotations from a fabricated contemporary of the great Oxbridge professor, Clive Staples Lewis.

The C.S. Lewis who authored these questionable observations, Clyde Scissors Lewis, possessed a worldview enigmatically different from that of the esteemed Christian author. Despite the fact that their two lives overlapped in a variety of ways, the similarities were superficial.

A brief biography of the lesser Lewis is available at this link.

The Other C.S. Lewis: A Brief Biography

By all means, do not confuse the wisdom of the genuine article with his shadowy counterfeit. Despite any cursory similarities between the two men, this is most definitely not the C.S. Lewis readers have come to know and love.

The Church at War

Why would Christian Scriptures commend people for waging war? War, after all, is nearly universally condemned – even as it remains a relentless curse in various corners of our world.

One young pastor was “charged” with a duty that belongs, by biblical extension, to all believers. “This charge I entrust to you [that] you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience” (1 Timothy 1).

The reason followers of Jesus are encouraged to actively train for and engage in war is because our enemies are not other human beings. We discussed this fact in our last conversation, as we considered the theological concept of the Church Militant.

To call the Body of Christ “militant” is misleading to those who don’t understand spiritual warfare, the fact that “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against . . . the cosmic powers over this present darkness . . .” (Ephesians 6).

Unfortunately, because all of us are imperfect (i.e. fallen), Christians can sometimes fail to distinguish between our true enemies and those who witlessly follow their banner. For an excellent discussion of this, from a Roman Catholic perspective, I recommend you read “The Church Militant or the Church Belligerent?

Another worthwhile read is “G.K. Chesterton and the March of the Church Militant.” There, Joseph Pearce shares Chesterton’s vivid description about how Gothic cathedrals visualize the martial aspect of the Christian Church.

The truth about Gothic [architecture] is, first, that it is alive, and second, that it is on the march. It is the Church Militant; it is the only fighting architecture.

All its spires are spears at rest; and all its stones are stones asleep in a catapult. In that instant of illusion, I could hear the arches clash like swords as they crossed each other. The might and numberless columns seemed to go swinging by like the huge feet of imperial elephants.

The graven foliage wreathed and blew like banners going into battle; the silence was deafening with all the mingled noises of a military march; the great bell shook down, as the organ shook up its thunder.

The thirsty-throated gargoyles shouted like trumpets from all the roofs and pinnacles as they passed; and from the lectern in the core of the cathedral the eagle of the awful evangelist crashed his wings of brass (“The Architect of Spears”).

As a master of words and wit, Chesterton’s writing rarely disappoints. You can download a free copy of The Man Who was Chesterton, which includes this essay, from Internet Archive.

C.S. Lewis did more to equip us for spiritual warfare with The Screwtape Letters than a thousand clergy with a hundred thousand sermons. As one Baptist theologian summed it up in an article about spiritual warfare:

On the subject of spiritual warfare, Lewis is a helpful guide. I’ll remember what he taught: There is an enemy. He seeks my destruction. And this is war.

There is a brilliant quote about this supernatural confrontation, ascribed (apparently in error) to the historical Martin Luther.

If I profess, with the loudest voice and the clearest exposition, every portion of the truth of God except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ, however boldly I may be professing Christianity.

Where the battle rages the loyalty of the soldier is proved; and to be steady on all the battle-field besides is mere flight and disgrace to him if he flinches at that one point.

C.S. Lewis echoes this sentiment in The Magician’s Nephew. When Aslan questions the humble man whom he would crown the first King of Narnia, he poses a query which reveals the man’s courage and humility.

“And if enemies came against the land (for enemies will arise) and there was war, would you be the first in the charge and the last in the retreat?”

“Well, sir,” said the Cabby very slowly, “a chap don’t exactly know till he’s been tried. I dare say I might turn out ever such a soft ’un. Never did no fighting except with my fists. I’d try – that is, I ’ope I’d try – to do my bit.”

“Then,” said Aslan, “you will have done all that a King should do.”

If anyone would follow Christ, neutrality is not an option. Though some temporary retreats are inevitable, in God’s strength, we are empowered to continue our (in reality, the Lord’s) advance.

The battlelines are drawn, and they are real. As C.S. Lewis proclaimed in “Christianity and Culture” – “There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second is claimed by God, and counterclaimed by Satan.”


The image above, “Livonian Sword Brother” (a member of a military monastic order) was created by JLazarusEB and is used here in compliance with the Creative Commons CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 License.

Thoughts on the Church Militant

C.S. Lewis understood better than most the spiritual warfare that rages, unseen for the most part, around all human beings.

And, as veterans of the bloody trenches of the First World War, Lewis and his good friend J.R.R. Tolkien had learned more than they desired about the tactics and sheer violence of combat.

Many of those wartime lessons translated directly into a spiritual context. However, I recently realized how poorly the concept of immobile trenches relates to our challenge to take up our crosses and follow our Savior.

You see, the Christian life is many things, but there is one thing discipleship never is – static. As theologian Tilemann Heshusius (1527-1588) wrote: “Christian soldiers always either advance or retreat.”

In battle there is nearly always an ebb and a flow, as forces advance on one front and temporarily shift back on another. In his essay “The World’s Last Night,” C.S. Lewis observes “In battle men save their lives sometimes by advancing and sometimes by retreating.” The same is true for the Christian life in general. We are either advancing, or falling back. Our relationship with God is not stagnant.

The New Testament includes many military metaphors and allusions, intended to equip us for victory in our spiritual battles.

The Apostle Paul refers to believers as “fellow soldiers.” In a letter to a young pastor, he extols the model of the soldier, who keeps his focus on the mission.

Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him.

Then there is the familiar passage which uses the image of the “whole armor of God” to describe in detail how Christians are to be prepared for faithful service. You can read the entire passage here.

These military accoutrements are necessary because “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12).

This is the reason one aspect of the Christian Church’s nature has been described as the “Church Militant.” This describes the Church battling evil while awaiting Christ’s return, for the Final Judgment, when it will become the “Church Triumphant.” The former is the context for familiar hymns such as “Onward Christian Soldiers,” composed by a prolific Anglican priest in the nineteenth century.

Onward, Christian soldiers,
   marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus
   going on before!

Christ, the royal Master,
leads against the foe;
Forward into battle,
see his banner go!
     . . .

At the sign of triumph
   Satan’s host doth flee;
On, then, Christian soldiers,
   on to victory!

Hell’s foundations quiver
   at the shout of praise;
Brothers, lift your voices,
   loud your anthems raise.

The WWI trenches are the archetype of static, immobile frontlines. Disease festered, and morale decayed like the muck sucking at the soldiers’ boots. As recognized by sixteenth century theologians and C.S. Lewis alike, wars are rarely won simply by maintaining a defensive position. Movement is an essential element of warfare.

Hopefully more of that movement consists of advances against the enemy, than retreats. But we will consider that aspect of spiritual war in our next post.

Until Then

Those interested in learning more about military strategy, particularly as explored by another veteran of the War to End All Wars, Sir B.H. Liddell Hart,* like Lewis and Tolkien, returned home to Britain from the front lines, as a casualty. (Britannica states more than a third of the British forces became casualties, in contrast to 76% of Russians, 73% of French, and 8% of Americans.)

Liddell Hart’s wisdom extends beyond the battlefield itself.

The downfall of civilized states tends to come not from the direct assaults of foes, but from internal decay combined with the consequences of exhaustion in war (“The Objective in War,” a lecture delivered in 1952 to the United States Naval War College).


* Sir Basil Henry Liddell Hart (1895-1970) was a military historian and theoretician. A number of his works are in the public domain and available for free download from Internet Archives. These include A Greater than Napoleon, Scipio Africanus and Why Don’t We Learn from History?

History in Retrospect

This title, “History in Retrospect,” is of course redundant. There is no other way to consider history than by looking back at the past – from our current vantage point.

That is why it’s impossible to view history completely objectively. Since each of us measures things from our personal worldview, the same event means vastly dissimilar things to different people.

When people are hyper-partisan, they are incapable of reasoning with others who view events differently. The history of the United States is currently the subject of intense (too often extremist) debate by its citizens. Balanced people, the type I prefer talking to, admit the shortcomings in our history, and praise the accomplishments.

There are those, sadly, who believe their nation can have done no wrong. There are others who relish condemning the country’s imperfections. Those in the latter camp remind me of the prejudice exhibited by Nathanael, one of Jesus’ future disciples, when he dismissed his brother’s enthusiasm about the Messiah with the words “can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (John 1).

C.S. Lewis was a gifted writer and academic. He was also a historian, especially an expert in literary history. His volume in the Oxford History of English Literature reflects that fact quite clearly.

Lewis was not only brilliant, in many ways he revealed great wisdom. Listen to these remarks about history from a letter he wrote to one of his casual correspondents in 1952.

You are not the kind of correspondent who is a ‘nuisance:’ if you were you would not be now thinking you are one – That kind never does.

But don’t send me any newspaper cuttings. I never believe a word said in the papers.

The real history of a period (as we always discover a few years later) has very little to do with all that, and private people like you and me are never allowed to know it while it is going on.

Educated originally as a “journalist,” I’m forced to agree completely with Lewis. Every word in print today is suspect. Those who do not read critically are on dangerous ground. And, of course, it’s not just newspapers and journals that demand caution. Digital media are even worse.

For that reason, we should never pretend any publication is 100% reliable. However, one magazine that I believe honestly strives toward that goal, is World Magazine. I appreciate the fact that it approaches subjects from my own theistic (Christian) worldview. By default, that makes it makes it untrustworthy to those who possess an anti-Christian worldview.

The open-minded individuals I referred to above, ever a minority, are willing (even eager) to read articles written by people from a range of perspectives. And it is for you, the honest and inquisitive people, that I suggest you consider adding World to your reading list.

Andrée Seu Peterson, recently wrote a provocative article discussing a recurrent historical phenomenon. It is entitled “A gathering in Switzerland: Little-known meetings can have massive outcomes.”

Down through history there have been little conferences attended by small numbers of elites that have quietly changed the world while the rest of mankind was going about its mundane business unawares. . . .

In June of 1494 King Ferdinand II of Aragon, Queen Isabella I of Castille, and King John II of Portugal drew a demarcation line like a vertical knife edge running from North to South poles, trampling established communities as it divided the Western world between Spain and Portugal.

People falling on one side of the line would henceforth speak Spanish and people on the other side would speak Portuguese.

Echoes of C.S. Lewis’ cautions about the “inner ring!”

Considering the “End of History”

History is defined in a variety of ways. To avoid politically charged definitions, let’s turn to a source in that most-neutral nation, Switzerland. In the description of their doctoral program in the field, the Universität Basel says “history examines past events, processes and structures [and] is both a cultural studies and a social sciences discipline.”

The point being that history relates to humanity, rather than our planet as an entirety. Thus, history won’t end with death of our solar system “in about 5 billion years [when] the sun will run out of hydrogen.” Even the most optimistic advocates of a starfaring future for humanity would likely admit history will end long before that.

Christians, on the other hand, foresee a future history without end. Yes, this earth will pass away, but our Creator has promised a new heaven and a new earth that will not echo the perishable nature of our fallen world.

In light of this conviction, Peterson includes a sobering observation in her essay about history.

People living in the Stone Age didn’t know they were living in the Stone Age. People alive at the time the monks in Ireland furiously copied Greek and Latin Bible manuscripts as fast as the Huns and Visigoths could torch the libraries of Europe didn’t know they were living through the near destruction of Western civilization. Such things are clear only in hindsight.

No Christian pretends to know the day of Christ’s return. In fact, Jesus expressly said “concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven . . . Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” (Matthew 24).

Speculation about the Day of the Lord has rarely been beneficial. Suffice it to know that we should remain, at every possible moment, “ready.”

C.S. Lewis wrote another letter in 1952 which addresses this principle. His friend Don Giovanni Calabria (1873-1954), who was canonized by John Paul II in 1999, had written to Lewis sharing his impression that the day of the Lord’s return was drawing nearer.

Lewis reminded the priest of something Calabria already knew quite well. And it’s something well worth being reminded of today.

The times we live in are, as you say, grave: whether ‘graver than all others in history’ I do not know. But the evil that is closest always seems to be the most serious: for as with the eye so with the heart, it is a matter of one’s own perspective.

However, if our times are indeed the worst, if That Day is indeed now approaching, what remains but that we should rejoice because our redemption is now nearer and say with St John: ‘Amen; come quickly, Lord Jesus.’

Meanwhile our only security is that The Day may find us working each one in his own station and especially (giving up dissensions) fulfilling that supreme command that we love one another.

Lewis closes his letter with an affectionate prayer and promise, worthy of emulation in our own lives. “Let us ever pray for each other.” A sentiment I share with you.

Judging by Appearances

If books should not be judged by their covers, how much more true is it that we should avoid judging people by their initial appearance?

We don’t want others to be hasty in determining who we are, right? We need to take some time to get to know people before coming to “conclusions” about what they are like.

Yet we still tend to look at someone and – right away – assess whether they are trustworthy or not. I confess it is sometimes challenging for me to maintain an open mind. For example, teardrop tattoos (especially when accompanied by neck ink that combines letters and numbers), make me nervous.

First impressions are usually by their very nature superficial. Which means they often prove to be wrong. That’s true about people . . . and books.

Lewis scholar Dale Nelson recently sent me an interesting review of the book The Inklings, written by Humphrey Carpenter in 1978. The fascinating thing about the piece was that it was written by Lord David Cecil (1902-1986), who was himself an Inkling.

One of the things which drew my attention was his physical description of several of the members, especially C.S. Lewis. Without citing the maxim, he declares how misleading first impressions may be.

[Charles] Williams was the most obviously odd. Very tall, and indisputably ugly with a high forehead and with gleaming spectacles, he yet diffused a curious charm that came from an enthusiastic warmth of spirit united to a comic lack of inhibition. . . .

Lewis at first sight appeared less unusual; stocky, red-faced, loud-voiced, he might indeed have been taken for an innkeeper or even a butcher.

Such a mistake would not have displeased him, he liked to think of himself as representing the common man, in contrast to the sophisticated intellectual.

These observations were interesting, but there was something far more thought-provoking in the (excellent, by the way) review. More about that in a moment. First let’s return for a moment to the issue of book covers.

What about the Cover of the Book You are Writing?

I discussed covers, and Lewis’ thoughts thereon, in this post.

It’s unsurprising that with all of their many reprintings, the writings of C.S. Lewis have been published with a wide range of covers. Some of this can be attributed to the artistic fads of the decade in which particular editions saw print. More important, I believe, are the arbitrary tastes of publishers.

When it comes to self-publishing, authors are in complete control over the image that graces their literary creations. While I make no pretense of being an artist, I must confess at being shocked by the shoddy quality of many such works. Surely they are aware that the very best of writing can be marred by dreadful packaging. By the same token, even weak literature has received wider dissemination than it merited, due to stunning or alluring graphics.

The internet is filled with posts on this subject. These are representative:

Against Popular Advice, Books Continue to Be Judged by Their Covers” says, “for some, this can be a bitter pill to swallow, because writers want to believe that their work will speak for itself.”

The reality is that every person who steps into a book shop or browses books online is judging books by their cover, even if only subconsciously. I’m not saying that the judgment is always correct. Some books have amazing covers but are comprised of some pretty bad writing. I’d guess that many more amazing books are hiding behind bad cover art. The challenge is to get readers to pick up your book in the first place. That’s where the artwork comes in.

Another writer contends that potential readers do consider a host of matters. In “Why ‘Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover’ is Bad Advice,” the writer nevertheless admits it is the single most important element in winning an audience (short of a celebrity endorsement).

Readers are going to keep on reading and judging based on a whole host of criteria. The cover is just one of the many factors that are taken into account. Like other aspects of a book, it holds valuable information about the story kept inside.

Disregarding it is bad advice. Instead, why not try judging a book by its cover? Maybe next time you peruse the shelves of your neighborhood bookstore or scroll through the numerous titles listed online, you can select books purely based on the cover.

You never know, that could tell you everything you need to give that book a chance.

Covers are not the only factor in enhancing your book’s reception. Consider as well the nature of the paper in printed copies, as I discussed in “The Ugliest Book,” about a Mayan codex.

Now, back to the book reviewer.

David Cecil’s Thoughts on His Own Identity as an Inkling

After graduating from Oxford, Cecil briefly taught Rhetoric in London, before returning to Oxford, where he taught English. During his career, he wrote various works, including a number of literary biographies. These include: The Stricken Deer or The Life of Cowper, English Poets, Hardy the Novelist.

David Cecil was an accomplished man, and a true Oxford Inkling. The curious aspect is how, as the son of a marquess (bearing a courtesy title), socializing with a different caste, so to speak, would bond so well with the rest of the Inklings. Fortunately, Cecil briefly explains why he valued the fellowship in this book review.

Usually one of them would read aloud a piece from some book he was writing. . . . The meetings were also occasionally attended by persons who did not share The Inklings’ distinctive point of view but who liked spending an evening in their company.

I myself was one of these; I found such evenings enjoyable and stimulating; and all the more because the spirit of The Inklings was in piquant contrast to those of the Oxford circles in which I spent most of my time.

A final gift to those who treasure Lewis and his companions comes in Cecil’s incisive understanding of their unifying bond.

The qualities . . . that gave The Inklings their distinctive personality were not primarily their opinion; rather it was a feeling for literature, which united, in an unusual way, scholarship and imagination.

Their standard of learning was very high. To study a book in translation or without a proper knowledge of its historic background would have been to them unthinkable; they were academic in the best sense of the word.

But – and this is what made them different from most academics – they also read imaginatively. The great books of the past were to them living in the same way as the work of a contemporary. . . .

Simply they read their books in the spirit in which they were written. And they could communicate their sense of this spirit to their hearers so that, for these also, these great books sprang to fresh, full life.

This was a unique achievement in the Oxford of their time.

It appears the Inklings would be among the last to judge a book, or a person, by their cover.

Free Lecture Series Explores the Inklings

If you would like to learn more about C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and their fellow Inklings, a free series of five lectures has just been produced. I am in the midst of the first, introductory lecture, and am eager to listen to the entire series.

You can receive links to the series from Hillsdale College by completing a small form at this link.

The subjects addressed in the series include:

  1. “Who Are the Inklings?” by Bradley J. Birzer
  2. “C.S. Lewis’s The Abolition of Man” by Michael Ward
  3. “J.R.R. Tolkien’s Scholarship” by Michael Drout
  4. “Themes of Lewis’s Fiction” by Jason Lepojärvi
  5. “Tolkien and the Christian Imagination” by Holly Ordway

Hillsdale College is an independent Christian institution, founded in 1844. They currently have 1,573 undergraduates, “representing 49 states, D.C., and 13 foreign countries,” complemented by more than one hundred graduate students.

Several years ago, they offered a free online course about C.S. Lewis, which we promoted on Mere Inkling in this post.

That course – along with thirty more – is still available at no cost. (Donations are welcome, of course.) You can learn about all of these courses here.

And, if you’re in the mood for reading a free issue of Christian History on the subject of “Heaven and the Christian Imagination,” look no further than this link. (The issue includes several references to the thought of C.S. Lewis.)