Category: Literature

Tortured Writing & the Inklings

On By robstroudIn Books, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Classics Worth Revisiting, Great Authors, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Likely Useless Trivia, Literature, Poetry, Words, Writing12 Comments

Amanda McKittrick Ros (1860-1939) was an Irish poet and novelist beloved by the Oxford Inklings. “Beloved” here is used in the sense of treasured for its distinctiveness, rather than admired for its artistry.

An article about Ros in Smithsonian Magazine is subtitled: “Amanda McKittrick Ros predicted she would achieve lasting fame as a novelist. Unfortunately, she did.”

So how is it that a writer described by the Oxford Companion to Irish Literature (OCIL) as authoring “unconscious comedy of a very high order” came to occupy a special place within the company of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and their literary fellows? Why did they begin reading her works as a sort of contest, with the challenge of neither laughing nor smiling as they did so?

It was not because her mother (or she herself) christened her after a character in The Children of the Abbey, published in 1796. (Her initial name was “Anna.”)

No, it was due to an intrinsic element of her frequently alliterative artistry, described by OCIL in the following manner.

She published two sentimental romances, Irene Iddlesleigh (1897) and Delina Delany (1898), both in an idiosyncratic manner that provides unconscious comedy of a very high order. . . .

Most of her published writings appeared posthumously as a result of literary curiosity.

Many writers would agree that writing comedy is quite challenging. Comedy Crowd is devoted to helping writers gain some skill in this arena, and if you take a moment to check out their video about failed puns – after you finish reading this post – you won’t be disappointed. 

As one commenter on SleuthSayers puts it, “. . . writing humor isn’t easy. It’s even dangerous: trying to be funny and failing would be almost as bad as being funny when you’re trying to be serious.” Sadly, the worst of these options proved to be the fortune of poor Amanda.

Even her native Northern Ireland Library Authority confesses that her “writing style can only be described as elaborate, melodramatic, using startling descriptions with mixed metaphors and inappropriate alliteration with the result being unintentionally hilarious.”

In her collection “Poems of Puncture,” I came across a piece titled “Reverend Goliath Ginbottle.” Being a reverend myself, I eagerly listened to a LibriVox recording of the poem (which you can download for free from Internet Archive), and I was not disappointed. Her description of this “viper of vanity” and her joy at his ultimate judgment was delightfully colorful. Or, should you prefer to hear a diatribe against a corrupt lawyer, listen to Mickey Monkeyface McBlear, who bore “a mouth like a moneybox.”

TV Tropes has an article about Ros which attributes a dozen tropes to her pen.

In the Style of: Aldous Huxley noted that Ros wrote in the 16th century style of Euphuism. Susan Sontag decades later stated that Euphuism was the progenitor of camp, which would explain why literary greats found her writing so hilarious.

Those curious about euphuism can read John Lyly’s Euphues: the Anatomy of Wit; Euphues and His England which is filled with delights unnumbered. Originally two volumes, the books were published in the sixteenth century.

C.S. Lewis was a serious enough “fan” of Ros’ writings to share his affection for them with Cambridge Classicist Nan Dunbar. C.S. Lewis scholar Joel Heck has written a worthwhile article about the ongoing friendship between the two professors.

For a detailed study of the literary relationship between Amanda McKittrick Ros and the Inklings, I highly recommend the article by Anita Gorman and Leslie R. Mateer which appeared in Mythlore.

As they describe, even before the Inklings added occasional readings of her work to their gatherings, as early as 1907 there was in Oxford a society devoted to weekly readings of her works. The authors pose, and then proceed to answer, the following question.

What . . . impelled C.S. Lewis and his mates to read aloud Ros’s work? Yes, the improbable plots, silly characters, and nonexistent themes may have played a role, but were those enough to captivate the Inklings and to give rise to Delina Delaney dinners and Amanda Ros societies?

After all, many writers have written improbable plots about improbable people, and these writers have enjoyed short-lived reputations, if any reputations at all. Yet Amanda lives on.

For Those with Stout Constitutions

Mere Inkling offers one final look back at the transcendent poetry of Amanda McKittrick Ros. This infamous selection can be found at the aptly named Pity the Readers: Horribly Excellent Writing website.

“Visiting Westminster Abbey”
(from Fumes of Formation)

Holy Moses! Have a look!
Flesh decayed in every nook!
Some rare bits of brain lie here,
Mortal loads of beef and beer,

Some of whom are turned to dust,
Every one bids lost to lust;
Royal flesh so tinged with ‘blue’
Undergoes the same as you.

These morose words bring to mind another verse, composed in the form of a song by the artists of Monty Python. It appeared on Monty Python’s Contractual Obligation Album as “Decomposing Composers.”

They’re decomposing composers.
There’s nothing much anyone can do.
You can still hear Beethoven,
But Beethoven cannot hear you. . . .

Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds
With their highly original sound.
The pianos they played are still working,
But they’re both six feet underground.

They’re decomposing composers.
There’s less of them every year.
You can say what you like to Debussy,
But there’s not much of him left to hear.

Yes, similarly morbid verse, but offered here to provide a sharp contrast between types of humor. Monty Python is the epitome of Camp, which according to Susan Sontag,

sees everything in quotation marks. It’s not a lamp, but a “lamp;” not a woman, but a “woman.” To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role. It is the farthest extension, in sensibility, of the metaphor of life as theater.

Although Sontag notes “one must distinguish between naïve and deliberate Camp,” she argues the “pure examples of Camp are unintentional.” She considers self-conscious efforts, such as Noel Coward (and presumably Monty Python as well) as “usually less satisfying.”

Another perspective offers a helpful dichotomy to distinguish between “intentionality: whether camp deliberately cultivated (‘high’ camp) is the same to that of the unintentional kind (‘low’ camp).”

Personally, I often enjoy high (nonvulgar) camp humor – witty silliness that scoffs at life’s peculiarities. As for unintentional, “low” camp such as we find in Ros, I typically feel a flash of guilt at hurting (even posthumously) the feelings of a writer. Most of us writers are, after all, a sensitive and vulnerable breed.

The enlightening illustrations accompanying this article are from Amanda McKittrick Ros Society Promotional Memes, ably captained by Dan Morgan.

George MacDonald’s Poetry

On By robstroudIn Books, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Christianity, G.K. Chesterton, Great Authors, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Poetry, Reading, Words11 Comments

George MacDonald (1824-1905) was a prolific Scot writer. His legacy was amplified due to his influence on G.K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis. (He was also a friend of Mark Twain.) An essay, originally presented as a speech by G.K. Chesterton, is available online.

Chesterton goes so far as to say, “if to be a great man is to hold the universe in one’s head or heart, Dr. MacDonald is great. No man has carried about with him so naturally heroic an atmosphere.” Listen to his description of that special type of literature that inspired many Inklings, chiefly C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many religious writers have written allegories and fairy tales, which have gone to creating the universal conviction that there is nothing that shows so little spirituality as an allegory, and nothing that contains so little imagination as a fairy tale. But from all these Dr. MacDonald is separated by an abyss of profound originality of intention.

The difference is that the ordinary moral fairy tale is an allegory of real life. Dr. MacDonald’s tales of real life are allegories, or disguised versions, of his fairy tales.

It is not that he dresses up men and movements as knights and dragons, but that he thinks that knights and dragons, really existing in the eternal world, are dressed up here as men and movements.

C.S. Lewis, for his part, praised MacDonald as instrumental in tilling the soil for his eventual conversion to Christianity. He was on the defensive, since the writers which most inspired him shared a common flaw – they were Christians.

All the books were beginning to turn against me. Indeed, I must have been as blind as a bat not to have seen, long before, the ludicrous contradiction between my theory of life and my actual experiences as a reader.

George MacDonald had done more to me than any other writer; of course it was a pity he had that bee in his bonnet about Christianity. He was good in spite of it.

Chesterton had more sense than all the other moderns put together; bating, of course, his Christianity. Johnson was one of the few authors whom I felt I could trust utterly; curiously enough, he had the same kink. Spenser and Milton by a strange coincidence had it too (Surprised by Joy).

Lewis would actually come to edit a selection of MacDonald’s passages for an edifying anthology. This post includes a link for downloading a copy of George MacDonald: An Anthology.

This week I was reading one of MacDonald’s excellent essays, which appears in The Imagination and Other Essays. I intend to discuss some of his thoughts on age and writing soon. Although I am not an aficionado of poetry – despite having composed poetry from time to time, including quintains, I turned to another of MacDonald’s books.

On to His Poetry

I decided to follow up MacDonald’s brilliant essay with a dip into his poetry. Fortunately, Internet Archive allows you to freely download a complete copy of MacDonald’s Scotch Songs and Ballads, published in 1893. My conscience forces me, however, to provide a single caveat. Be forewarned that the tome is not suited for those intimidated by pronounced dialects.

Before looking at one of his poems in its entirety, allow me to share with you a passage from “The Waesome Carl” which I particularly enjoyed (due to its portrait of a preacher). 

The minister wasna fit to pray
And lat alane to preach;
He nowther had the gift o’ grace
Nor yet the gift o’ speech!
He mind’t him o’ Balaäm’s ass,
Wi’ a differ we micht ken:
The Lord he opened the ass’s mou,
The minister opened’s ain!
He was a’ wrang, and a’ wrang,
And a’thegither a’ wrang;
There wasna a man aboot the toon
But was a’thegither a’ wrang!
The puir precentor couldna sing,
He gruntit like a swine . . .

Not that I claim able to decipher it all, but my impression is that it’s not especially flattering. It is definitely entertaining. And I humbly think I interpret it significantly more accurately than Google’s online translator, which provided the following version.

The minister was not fit to pray
And lat alane to preach;
He nowther had the gift o’ grace
Nor yet the gift o’ speech!
He mind’t him o’ Balaam’s ass,
Wi’ a differ we micht ken:
The Lord he opened the ass’s mou,
The minister opened his eyes!
He was a’ wrang, and a’ wrang,
And a’thegither a’wrang;
There was a man aboot the toon
But thegither was wrong!
The puir precentor couldna sing,
He grunted like a swine. . .

Using the Dictionars o the Scots Leid, you can make perfect sense of the words about which you may be uncertain. (Thank you, Scotland.)

Dialects are interesting things indeed. I will close with another of MacDonald’s poems. I submit it for (1) those who comprehend the dialect, (2) those who deem precious their Scottish ancestry, (3) those with an affinity for Connor MacLeod, and (4) those who simply enjoy a challenge.

“Nannie Braw”

I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nannie,
I’ yer goon and yer ribbons and a’;
But I like ye better on Mondays, Nannie,
Whan ye’re no sae buskit and braw.

For whan we’re sittin sae douce, Nannie,
Wi’ the lave o’ the worshippin fowk,
That aneth the haly hoose, Nannie,
Ye micht hear a moudiwarp howk,

It will come into my heid, Nannie,
O’ yer braws ye are thinkin a wee;
No alane o’ the Bible-seed, Nannie,
Nor the minister nor me!

Syne hame athort the green, Nannie,
Ye gang wi’ a toss o’ yer chin;
And there walks a shadow atween ‘s, Nannie,
A dark ane though it be thin!

But noo, whan I see ye gang, Nannie,
Eident at what’s to be dune,
Liltin a haiveless sang, Nannie,
I wud kiss yer verra shune!

Wi’ yer silken net on yer hair, Nannie,
I’ yer bonnie blue petticoat,
Wi’ yer kin’ly arms a’ bare, Nannie,
On yer ilka motion I doat.

For, oh, but ye’re canty and free, Nannie,
Airy o’ hert and o’ fit!
A star-beam glents frae yer ee, Nannie–
O’ yersel ye’re no thinkin a bit!

Fillin the cogue frae the coo, Nannie,
Skimmin the yallow ream,
Pourin awa the het broo, Nannie,
Lichtin the lampie’s leme,

Turnin or steppin alang, Nannie,
Liftin and layin doon,
Settin richt what’s aye gaein wrang, Nannie,
Yer motion’s baith dance and tune!

I’ the hoose ye’re a licht and a law, Nannie,
A servan like him ‘at’s abune:
Oh, a woman’s bonniest o’ a’, Nannie,
Doin what maun be dune!

Cled i’ yer Sunday claes, Nannie,
Fair kythe ye to mony an ee;
But cled i’ yer ilka-day’s, Nannie,
Ye draw the hert frae me!

Addendum:

For those interested in pursuing this linguistic subject, I just came across a delightful 1896 collection of works you can download for free. Legends of the Saints: in the Scottish Dialect of the Fourteenth Century is “edited from the unique manuscript in the University Library, Cambridge.”

The cartoon above comes from Mr. Punch in the Highlands which was published “with 140 illustrations” more than a century ago. You can download your personal copy of humorous work at Internet Archive.

Peculiar Poetic Themes

On By robstroudIn Animals, Books, C.S. Lewis, Humor, Poetry, Writing8 Comments

Would you purchase a collection of poetry inspired by pigs? It was certainly not what I was looking for, but my local library has once again seduced me by conducting one of their periodic “used book sales.” 

I find them irresistible. Just as I was unable to bypass, without browsing, any “secondhand bookshop” while I lived in the United Kingdom.

One never knows what treasures are buried in the stacks, since many of the volumes came from personal libraries where they may have rested for decades.

We had just finished our regular writing critique meeting when I accompanied two of my companions into the wilderness of temptation. Alas, on one of the first shelves I perused, I encountered an oddity I was unable to resist. 

The title attracted my interest – The Porcine Legacy. The minimalist sketches of pigs illustrating the text drew me in. And the final element, which captured me, was that it was autographed by both the author and the artist. The bargain price sealed the deal.

Scanning the poems I saw curious mentions of God, which I considered intriguing. The swinish images reminded me of some of DaVinci’s quick sketches of animals.

Sadly, although he professes the love he had for his hogs and piglets, the author did consign them to the market. I understand that’s their intended fate, and I do enjoy lean bacon, but it seems sad. Especially in an ode to porcine intelligence and their congeniality as pets.

The author, David Lee, moved on from animal husbandry to teaching at a university in Utah. Presumably it was his contributions there, rather than on his farmstead, which earned him the honor of becoming the very first poet laureate of Utah.

A Taste of Porcine Poetry

The poem which follows is entitled “Jubilate Agno, 1975.” As often happens when I expose myself to unfamiliar works, I learned far more than I anticipated. In this case, I discovered the “1975” in the title was included because the poem was based upon a religious poem originally penned between 1759 and 1763, while its author, Christopher Smart, was convalescing as a “Curable Patient” at London’s St. Luke’s Hospital for Lunatics.

Lee’s version follows the basic structure of Smart’s 1200 line work. Cat lovers will enjoy a section of seventy-four lines where the original author praises the wonders of his cat, Jeoffry. This is the portion of the original which most closely resembles the copy, since the latter extols its author’s favorite sow. Lee also proposes a shift in the deity upon whom the creature focuses.

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his Way.

~~~~~~

For I will consider my black sow Blackula.
For she is the servant of the god of the feed bucket and serveth him.
For she worships the god in him and the secret of his pail in her way.

The title, “Jubilate Agno” actually translates as “Rejoice in the Lamb.” And, while Lee includes no such reference, the beginning lines of Smart’s work proclaim its vision in inspiring terms.

Rejoice in God, O ye Tongues; give the glory to the Lord, and the Lamb.
Nations, and languages, and every Creature, in which is the breath of Life.
Let man and beast appear before him, and magnify his name together.

I encourage interested readers to read the edifying “Jubilate Agno” by Christopher Smart, which is available here. Ailurophiles (cat lovers) can go directly to the feline section here. The complete text of  “Jubilate Agno, 1975” is available at the Poetry Foundation.

Although I don’t believe C.S. Lewis ever wrote porcine poetry, there is an interesting passage which appears in Boxen, the collection of his childhood stories. Apparently, the first king of the northern region of Animal-Land, set out to add Pig-Land to his domain.

The pigs under their various chiefs (who had now united against Hacom, as a common enemy) advanced to meet him. The 2 armies met at a place called Kuckton (near where Marston now stands). Hacom fought well, and would have won had he not been outwitted by a clever feint on the part of the pigs.

The [invading] force was beaten, but still, much had been done towards the subjection of the pigs. Hacom was severely wounded by a stray arrow, but might have recovered, had he not been obliged to spend the night in the fields. It was winter, and the wound froze causing instant death. He had been an excellent king.

Surprisingly, to me at least, there are many other poems inspired by pigs. Since I’ve written in the past about Roald Dahl (and his slight connection to C.S. Lewis), seeing his poem entitled “The Pig” incited my curiosity. The All Poetry website includes the poem, and offers as part of its analysis:

“The Pig” by Roald Dahl is a humorous and macabre poem that explores the existential crisis of a highly intelligent pig. The poem is characterized by its playful language, which contrasts with the gruesome subject matter. . . .

The pig’s realization that he is destined for slaughter also highlights the existential themes of meaninglessness and the inevitability of death. Overall, “The Pig” is a clever and thought-provoking poem that combines humor, darkness, and a touch of existential angst, showcasing Dahl’s versatility as a storyteller.

So, if you want to end this peculiar discussion with a bit of existential porcine angst, ponder Dahl’s poem, “The Pig.”

In England once there lived a big,
A wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn’t read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn’t puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.

What was the reason for his birth?
Why was he placed upon this earth?
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, “By gum, I’ve got the answer!”
“They want my bacon slice by slice
“To sell at a tremendous price!
“They want my tender juicy chops
“To put in all the butcher’s shops!
“They want my pork to make a roast
“And that’s the part’ll cost the most!
“They want my sausages in strings!
“They even want my chitterlings!
“The butcher’s shop! The carving knife!
“That is the reason for my life!”

Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great peace of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor . . .
Now comes the rather grizzly bit
So let’s not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.

Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
“I had a fairly powerful hunch
“That he might have me for his lunch.
“And so, because I feared the worst,
“I thought I’d better eat him first.”

Books Enjoyed by C.S. Lewis

On By robstroudIn Books, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Classics Worth Revisiting, Great Authors, Great Authors, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Reading, Writing17 Comments

Reading is not only one of life’s pleasures, the content and ethos of what we read, subtly influences the shape of our very lives.

C.S. Lewis loved books with genuine passion. While many people only perceive books as compilations of information or as sources of fleeting entertainment, he knew them as far more. Only someone sharing Lewis’ affection and wisdom will identify with the following passage from his essay “An Experiment in Criticism.”

The man who is contented to be only himself, and therefore less a self, is in prison. My own eyes are not enough for me, I will see through those of others. Reality, even seen through the eyes of many, is not enough. I will see what others have invented. . . .

Literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege, of individuality. There are mass emotions which heal the wound; but they destroy the privilege. In them our separate selves are pooled and we sink back into sub-individuality.

But in reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. Like the night sky in the Greek poem, I see with a myriad eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do.

Lewis scholar and emeritus professor of English, Dale J. Nelson, has been providing a wonderful service in recent years as he explores the books which found a place in C.S. Lewis’ personal library. “Jack and the Bookshelf” is a continuing series which appears in CSL, journal of the New York C.S. Lewis Society. Founded in 1969, the organization “is the oldest society for the ​appreciation and discussion of C.S. Lewis in the world.”

Nelson’s task of editorially archiving C.S. Lewis’ library is complemented by the work of our mutual friend, Dr. Brenton Dickieson. In a “comment” praising Dickieson’s compilation of “C.S. Lewis’ Teenage Bookshelf,” Nelson offers a commendation with which I fully concur.

Thank you for assembling that list of books . . . I’d encourage Lewis’s admirers to take their appreciation of CSL to the next step and delve into the things he liked to read throughout his life.

Nelson’s contribution to the December 2023 issue is the fifty-ninth in his series, and discusses a fantasy work titled The Worm Ouroboros by E.R. Eddison. Eddison (1882-1945) was a Norse scholar, and his fascination with mountains combined with that, to resonate with Lewis’ passion for northernness.

Dr. Nelson, who has added an array of science fiction to his own academic work, possesses superb credentials for exploring the connection between Lewis and Eddison. 

Nelson relates that, at C.S. Lewis’ invitation, Eddison attended two gatherings of the Inklings. At the second, Eddison – who relished critiques of his works in progress, as do many serious writers – read from a project which would not be published due to his death the following year.

Eddison’s themes more closely resembled J.R.R. Tolkien’s than Lewis’ own. In Nelson’s words, both “Tolkien and Eddison wrote masterpieces of heroic fantasy whose values differed markedly.” 

Another distinction is that while Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings has maintained its mythic rigor, Eddison’s oeuvre feels rather anchored to the formative years of the genre, prior to the so-called Golden Age of science fiction (and fantasy).

If you would like to read this book, which was enjoyed by both Lewis and Tolkien, you can download a copy of it at Internet Archive. If you enjoy dwarves, goblins, manticores and hippogriffs, you are unlikely to be disappointed.

C.S. Lewis as a Weaver of Words

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, Education, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Words, Writing14 Comments

If you like to expand your vocabulary while opening up your mind with profound insights, search no farther than C.S. Lewis.

The celebrated Oxbridge professor possessed a great respect for words. Like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, he believed they should never be summarily detached from the history which imbues them with meaning. In “Studies in Words,” he describes the poverty of such an approach.

I am sometimes told that there are people who want a study of literature wholly free from philology; that is, from the love and knowledge of words. Perhaps no such people exist. If they do, they are either crying for the moon or else resolving on a lifetime of persistent and carefully guarded delusion.

If we read an old poem with insufficient regard for change in the overtones, and even the dictionary meanings, of words since its date – if, in fact, we are content with whatever effect the words accidentally produce in our modern minds – then of course we do not read the poem the old writer intended. What we get may still be, in our opinion, a poem; but it will be our poem, not his. If we call this tout court [too short or shallow] “reading” the old poet, we are deceiving ourselves. If we reject as “mere philology” every attempt to restore for us his real poem, we are safeguarding the deceit.

Of course any man is entitled to say he prefers the poems he makes for himself out of his mistranslations to the poems the writers intended. I have no quarrel with him. He need have none with me. Each to his taste.

If you too are a logophile, a lover of words, there’s no need to hide it. Well, with a single exception. Like everyone else, I find it off-putting when I run into people who learn complex new words simply with the goal of using them in order to “impress” others.

It amazes me how some individuals who consider themselves quite intelligent, and wish to advertise their brilliance, fail to comprehend that ostentatious speech elicits the opposite impression. [Don’t mistake my writing style where I intentionally use the fullest range of our shared vocabulary – which I believe enriches our reading and minds – with the vanity I’m describing. The latter insults readers when self-important posers attempt to intimidate others with words that are unlikely to be known by their audience.]

If you would like to read a satirical piece I wrote ridiculing this tactic, you can download “Mastering Inkling Erudition” at academia.edu. It appeared in CSL, published by the New York C.S. Lewis Society and is subtitled “Sounding Like an Expert Without Accumulating Multiple Ph.D.s.”

C.S. Lewis, of course, possessed no such pretentions. At least none I am aware of after his conversion to Christianity. His use of language is rich and satisfying. It is also instructive. I’ve lost count of the number of words to which Lewis introduced me. 

One of my favorites, though I have never dared to use it, is “bathetic.” Upon reading this note from Merriam-Webster, I suspect you too may find it applicable to much that passes for contemporary literature.

When English speakers turned apathy into apathetic in the late 17th century, using the suffix -etic to turn the noun into the adjective, they were inspired by pathetic, the adjectival form of pathos, from Greek pathētikos.

People also applied that bit of linguistic transformation to coin bathetic. English speakers added the suffix -etic to bathos, the Greek word for “depth,” which in English has come to mean “triteness” or “excessive sentimentalism.” The result: the ideal adjective for the incredibly commonplace or the overly sentimental.

The word appears in The Abolition of Man, in which C.S. Lewis critiques the poor practices of some current authors of educational resources. I will italicize the specific text, but provide the full context because of its own merits.

[They] quote a silly advertisement of a pleasure cruise and proceed to inoculate their pupils against the sort of writing it exhibits. The advertisement tells us that those who buy tickets for this cruise will go ‘across the Western Ocean where Drake of Devon sailed,’ ‘adventuring after the treasures of the Indies,’ and bringing home themselves also a ‘treasure’ of ‘golden hours’ and ‘glowing colours.’

It is a bad bit of writing, of course: a venal and bathetic exploitation of those emotions of awe and pleasure which men feel in visiting places that have striking associations with history or legend. If [they] were to stick to their last and teach their readers (as they promised to do) the art of English composition, it was their business to put this advertisement side by side with passages from great writers in which the very emotion is well expressed, and then show where the difference lies.

They might have used Johnson’s famous passage from the Western Islands, which concludes: ‘That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona.’ They might have taken that place in The Prelude where Wordsworth describes how the antiquity of London first descended on his mind with ‘Weight and power, Power growing under weight.’

A lesson which had laid such literature beside the advertisement and really discriminated the good from the bad would have been a lesson worth teaching. There would have been some blood and sap in it – the trees of knowledge and of life growing together. It would also have had the merit of being a lesson in literature . . .

And a Double Bonus: A New Word & a Psychological Disorder

A newly forged word is referred to as a neologism, and they can be fascinating. Modern technology has caused their number to explode. Some –  think “crowdsourcing” or “app” – are now ubiquitous.

Word lovers sometimes invent words. These, of course, rarely if ever find their way into public discourse. Take this example from a letter a young C.S. Lewis penned to his friend Arthur Greeves in 1916.

I know quite well that feeling of something strange and wonderful that ought to happen, and wish I could think like you that this hope will someday be fulfilled. . . . Perhaps indeed the chance of a change into some world of Terreauty (a word I’ve coined to mean terror and beauty) is in reality in some allegorical way daily offered to us if we had the courage to take it.

One final caution. If you do decide to become a neologist, run your ideas by people you trust. I just discovered the American Psychological Association has linked one expression of the practice to serious mental disorders!

neologism (updated on 04/19/2018)
n. a newly coined word or expression. In a neurological or psychopathological context, neologisms, whose origins and meanings are usually nonsensical and unrecognizable (e.g., klipno for watch), are typically associated with aphasia or schizophrenia. – neologistic adj.

Improve Your Writing with a Brevity Exercise

On By robstroudIn Advice to Writers, C.S. Lewis, Great Authors, History, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, My Writing Projects, Narnia, Roman History, The Bible, Writing21 Comments

While we are unlikely to become another J.R.R. Tolkien or C.S. Lewis, it is quite possible to improve our literary skills.

There are numerous ways to strengthen our writing. One of my favorites is to “stretch” my abilities by engaging in exercises that push me far beyond my nonfiction comfort zone. More on the details in a moment.

C.S. Lewis prized brevity and clarity. Most readers do. I’ve written about this in “C.S. Lewis on brevity.” Before that, I had discussed brevity as a factor of “clear communication,” while focusing on the value of common semantics to avoid confusion.

I encourage you to read “In Defense of the Fairy Tale: C.S. Lewis’s Argument for the Value and Importance of the Fairy Tale.” The author cites Lewis’ reason for choosing the fairy tale as his genre for Narnia.

[Lewis] describes the invention process for the Chronicles of Narnia as first coming in mental images, “a faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificent lion.” Next came the selection of a form in which to tell the story, one absent of a love interest or close psychology.

The form excluding these was the fairy tale. Lewis tells us that he fell in love with the form itself, “its brevity, its severe restraints on description, its flexible traditionalism, its inflexible hostility to all analysis, digression, reflections and ‘gas’” and the very limitations of the vocabulary.

He concludes, “I wrote fairy tales because the Fairy Tale seemed the ideal Form for the stuff I had to say,” not unlike the stone selected by the sculptor or the sonnet by the poet.

While I share the passage above at some length, my focus here is on Lewis’ observation that fairy tales are inherently “brief.” The fairy tale was, indeed, the “ideal Form” for C.S. Lewis’ classic stories from Narnia.

Even Briefer Genres

As a brevity-challenged individual (common for pastors), I like writing exercises able to make a dent in my innate verbosity. And what shorter option might one explore than a genre limited to a half dozen words?

Before embarking on my current challenge, let me give you a bit of background on the Six Word Story.

As Mark Twain famously wrote, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a longer one instead.” Intense Minimalism provides similar inspiration from other earlier writers.

“Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short.”
Henry David Thoreau,
“It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book.”
Friedrich Nietzsche
“If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.”
Marcus Tullius Cicero (a predecessor of Samuel Clemens)
And back again to Mark Twain:
“If you want me to give you a two-hour presentation, I am ready today.  If you want only a five-minute speech, it will take me two weeks to prepare.”

C.S. Lewis was capable of writing long personal tomes to family and intimate friends. His correspondence with casual friends – such as Americans who sometimes sent food gifts during Britain’s post-WWII rationing – tended to be warm, but short. This was particularly true when his brother Warnie was not available to assist with his correspondence, as the following letters attest.

20th. January 1948
Dear Mr. Howard, This is really very handsome of you, and you could hardly have sent a more welcome gift. I have only to call your attention to the so-called ‘Superfine’ paper on which I am replying to give you some idea of the luxury of writing on a decent paper at last. But I’m afraid there is something which even American generosity cannot supply me with: an article called TIME, which was the cause of my previous letter! (its brevity I mean)

25th August 1949
Dear Dr. Allen Yet once again hearty thanks for a fine parcel which has arrived in excellent condition to-day. I don’t know how we should get on without you. My brother who drives the typewriter is away and my hand is nearly dropping off from letter writing, so you’ll forgive brevity – and the horrible scrawl! I’m none the less grateful inside!

Six Word Stories were popularized in the United States through association with Ernest Hemingway. However, it is an urban legend to credit him with this poignant example: “For sale, Baby shoes, Never worn.”

MasterClass offers a helpful lesson at “How to Write an Unforgettable Six-Word Story.” They actually suggest that you can drop a few of these into your writing day to renew your energy.  

Like other forms of short stories or flash fiction, a six-word story allows a reader to consume an entire narrative in just a moment’s time. If you’re trying to get in some short, but challenging, bursts of writing practice throughout your day, try writing six-word stories. These bite-sized narratives are fast and fun.

As for telling any sort of satisfying “story” in six words, it’s a bit of an hyperbole. However, that hasn’t stopped a number of people from making a literal career of promoting the genre. At the forefront of the movement is Six Word Memoirs.

Christians have likewise joined the club. For example, Six-Word Lessons to Discover Missional Living: 100 Lessons to Align Every Believer with the Mission of Jesus is volume  forty-three in “The Six-Word Lessons Series.”

Prior to learning about these companies, I thought it be fun to suggest that one you compose Six Words about the Christian Life. Still, since an idea can’t be copyrighted, you’re still free to market your own works in this genre.

Some of My Modest “Attempts”

One subgenre of Six Word Stories is Six Word Biographies. One website applies this to biblical personages. Among them:

Mary
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord.”
Esther
“For such a time as this.”

To which I dare to add: 

Jephthah (Judges 11-12)
“Rash vows bring about terrible tragedies.”
Jehosheba (Exodus 1-2)
“Moses’ mother, eclipsed by her daughter.”
Abednego (Daniel 1-3)
“I survived the fiery furnace too.”

Now, allow me to apply the technique to several other people. 

Jeanne d’Arc
“Heroic innocent, visionary warrior, martyred saint.”

Walt Disney
“Gifted Kingdom maker, buried, rolling over”

Grigori Rasputin
“Poisoned, shot, drowned, and ultimately, damned.”

George Washington
“Soldier, statesman, who shunned the throne.”

Bozo
“Dated humor, creepy antics, Krusty cosmetics.”

And, I close now with my personal favorite.

Larry Norman
“He was only visiting this planet.”

A half century hasn’t diminished the power of Norman’s message. (The titular lyrics are in the “Reader’s Digest” track on the record linked here.)

Fonts that Can Make Your Literary Dreams Come True

On By robstroudIn Advice to Writers, C.S. Lewis, Education, Fonts, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Middle Earth, Modern Life, Reading, Writing16 Comments

Would you be interested in owning a copy of an attractive new font called Middle Earth? If so, read on and you’ll find a link to download this typeface created by Swedish designer Måns Grebäck.

When it comes to fonts, there are basically two types of people – those who pay no attention to them as they read, and others who notice the nuances between similar fonts and are fascinated by extraordinary examples.

Longtime readers of Mere Inkling know I am in the latter category. Every year or two I actually write on the subject. I’ve discussed monastic fonts, legal fonts, trustworthy fonts, uninhibited fonts, a dyslexia font, a memory-enhancing font, fonts based on the handwriting of historical figures, and being a fontaholic.

The reason for my current interest in fonts is due to Microsoft’s decision to jettison Calibri as their default font for Office products. They needed to make room for its replacement, Aptos. Seriously, when you view the two sans serif* fonts, side-by-side, you may be surprised at how little they differ.

To make matters even more confusing, CNBC describes a curious aspect of Aptos saga.

Aptos will remain available in the font list under the old Bierstadt name for people who are accustomed to it. Users can also choose to set any other font as the default.

Apple’s mac computers also allow users to choose their own defaults. One typography community discusses this selection opportunity, even as they bemoan the fact that in many programs, the standard installations include suboptimal fonts.

Unfortunately, many of us work on computers where we have no control over what fonts are loaded onto the machine, so we have created a list of the top 10 most common system fonts everyone should know and how to handle them.

This website offers a brief description and history of ten of the most common fonts we typically encounter. For example:

Times New Roman is a serif typeface designed by Stanley Morison and Victor Lardent in 1931. It was commissioned by the British newspaper The Times, which wanted a new typeface to replace its existing font, Times Old Roman.

And I love their estimation of Comic Sans, one of my wife’s favorite fonts, which I avoid like the proverbial plague. (Delores is a young at heart special education teacher, and I’m more of a Lewisian dinosaur.) 

Do use: if you are designing a comic for 6-year-olds.
Don’t use: if you want to be taken seriously by work colleagues.

Another pastor, who learned this lesson the hard way, shared his advice with the warning: “pastors don’t let your bulletins print out in Comic Sans!”

Apparently, his astute wife preserved his professional reputation by telling him to (1) avoid using a “smorgasbord of fonts” in a single document, and (2) “resist the temptation to print serious things in less than serious fonts.”

Advice for Writers

While authors have little control over the fonts in which their work is published by commercial publishers, they do have freedom to choose the typeface they use for the actual composition. “How To Choose the Best Font for Your Writing” addresses that latitude in the following way.

Do you have a favorite font? Are you dedicated to Times New Roman, or are you more of an “anything-but-Wingdings” kind of writer? Maybe you haven’t given your choice of font much thought.

Quite simply, as research shows, texts that look good make you feel good while interacting with them. This is why it’s so important to choose a font that not only is easy to read, optimizes line length, and has the right mood, but also is one that you like!

MasterClass describes the various aspects of each font that will contribute to your overall impression of each font. In “Typography for Writers: How to Pick the Best Type for Writing,” they explain the significance of bowls, ascenders, spines, counters, and more.

Typographers and type designers have their own universe of special terms, each of which refers to a specific part of a given letter. Understanding these basic elements of typography can help you decide precisely what typographic style you want to employ to grab your reader’s attention.

InDesignSkills goes so far as to match a number of typefaces to specific genres, saying “we judged the legibility, beauty, simplicity and variety of weights available of a huge range of fonts, and whittled them down to these faithful five.” They even offer an ironclad promise, proclaiming their selection will “never let your typesetting down, guaranteed.”

Obviously, personal tastes play a large role in appreciating or disapproving of various fonts. One author describes how the quest for the perfect font is integral to writers’ creativity.

Let’s talk about one of our favourite writing avoidance devices: picking the right font for your manuscript.

“The Best and Worst Fonts (and why they’re good or bad),” describes the bond a writer can develop with their typographic fancies.

Fonts are one of the most important design choices to make when developing your brand identity. The best fonts leave you feeling like you’ve made an instant friend while the worst fonts are like a stranger who won’t leave you alone.

The writer offers her personal preferences (and prejudices). I don’t agree with all of her judgments, but I am forced to concur with her inclusion of Jokerman and Bleeding Cowboys on the list of “worst fonts.” And I am pretty sure that C.S. Lewis would agree.

Write in the Spirit of Middle Earth

If you have read this far, your reward is to receive the download link for Middle Earth. 

As noted aboved, Måns Grebäck is a prolific Swedish typographer. He makes many of his creations freely available to individuals for non-commercial use. (Commercial licenses are available as well.) The independent FontSpace describes it thusly:

With the historic charm of ancient manuscripts and the ethereal beauty of elven realms, Middle Earth typeface weaves tales of valor and legends. Its calligraphic allure is accentuated by rounded contours, reminiscent of Tolkien’s enchanted worlds.

Middle Earth truly is ethereally elegant. Enjoy.

* Sans serif fonts are those without serifs, which are the tiny lines or marks that appear at the end of a character’s stroke. Arial would be a common sans serif font, while Times New Roman is a familiar serif font.

Elven Inspiration from Space

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, History, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Middle Earth, Nature, Writing10 Comments

A newly captured image of a supernova remnant in our Milky Way galaxy has me curious about where J.R.R. Tolkien may have gained inspiration for the elegant style of his Elvish scripts.*

America’s NASA has gifted all of Earth’s citizens with an array of stunning, and enlightening images. Recently, the James Webb Space Telescope directed its focus to Cassiopeia A, created thousands of years ago when a star 11,000 light years away went supernova. 

It may be my imagination, or perhaps its an elevated mental talent for “core object recognition,” but for some inscrutable reason, I have recognized in the aftermath of the explosion faint echoes of Elvish script.

The light from Cassiopeia A (or Cas A, as we pseudo-astronomers refer to it) “first reached us around 340 years ago. As that was approximately 272 years before The Lord of the Rings was published, Tolkien had ample time to analyze the spectacular light source. Even factoring in the fact that the stories were composed between 1937 and 1949, the supernova’s existence had been known for a millennia and a half before LOR was written. 

I will leave it to other researchers to determine just how Tolkien was able to gain a detailed view of the explosion’s aftermath. My purpose here is to simply alert the public to the unexplainable parallel between the cosmic residue and Tolkien’s own renditions of Elvish writing as he perceived it. 

In a moment, I will allow the self-evident facts to speak for themselves.

Like his friend C.S. Lewis, Tolkien was a student of astronomy. As Professor Kristine Larsen says, “J.R.R. Tolkien based the stars and constellations of his created world of Middle-earth on ‘real world’ astronomy.” Dr. Larsen, a preeminent “Tolkienian Astronomer,” has published widely on the subject. 

Of particular interest to readers of Mere Inkling will be “Medieval Cosmology and Middle-earth: A Lewisian Walk Under Tolkienian Skies,” which can be downloaded here. In the essay, Larsen points out,

. . . as is well known in Tolkien scholarship, during and after writing The Lord of the Rings Tolkien made various attempts to more closely align his cosmology with 20th century astronomical knowledge.

Fortunately for those of us who are drawn to the mythological textures of his legendarium, Tolkien never completed this “radical transformation of the astronomical myth” (as son Christopher termed it), but it is important to understand that this tension existed within Tolkien’s mind.

Having narrowly escaped the snare of surrendering to twentieth century astronomical theories, Tolkien preserved the mythical spirit of his cosmology. Larsen’s essay considers “whether or not Tolkien’s subcreation would, in reality, pass muster as a medieval cosmology, as defined by Lewis.” Thesis established, she takes readers on a pleasing journey. “So let us take a stroll under Middle-earth skies, and observe just how well the Dome of Varda matches with Lewis’s challenge.”

Returning to Cas A

As the images below will clearly illustrate, the preservation of the medieval nature of Middle Earth’s heavens does not mean that Tolkien ignored the realities of interstellar space. As I said a moment ago, the visual proof is definitive.

The fluid strokes of Tolkien’s Elven scripts are clearly foreshadowed in the plumes of this cosmic canvas. 

This image speaks fluently for itself.

This pair of images from NASA contrasts the Near-Infrared and Mid-Infrared observations. It is quite possible the second influenced J.R.R. Tolkien’s perceptualization of Sauron’s eye. (Admit it, you see the dramatic similarities.)

We may never learn how Tolkien was able vividly see the details of Cassiopeia A with the earthbound telescopes accessible eighty years ago. Nevertheless, the evidence provided herein is irrefutable.

It seems fitting, when pondering the majesty of the stars as echoed in a masterpiece of literary subcreation, to close with an observation by Tolkien’s friend, C.S. Lewis. In an early letter to a close friend, Lewis described the wonder he experienced in reading Dante’s Paradise.

Here Lewis lyrically shares an experience of spiritual ecstasy which, this writer humbly suggests, can be shared by many, as we stand in awe of the majestic intricacy of the universe our Creator has fashioned.

[I read] Aristotle’s Ethics all morning, walk after lunch, and then Dante’s Paradiso for the rest of the day. The latter has really opened a new world to me. I don’t know whether it is really very different from the Inferno [Owen Barfield] says it’s as different as chalk from cheese – heaven from hell, would be more appropriate!) or whether I was specially receptive, but it certainly seemed to me that I had never seen at all what Dante was like before.

Unfortunately the impression is one so unlike anything else that I can hardly describe it for your benefit – a sort of mixture of intense, even crabbed, complexity in language and thought with (what seems impossible) at the very same time a feeling of spacious gliding movement, like a slow dance, or like flying. It is like the stars – endless mathematical subtility of orb, cycle, epicycle and ecliptic, unthinkable & unpicturable, & yet at the same time the freedom and liquidity of empty space and the triumphant certainty of movement.

I should describe it as feeling more important than any poetry I have ever read. . . . Its blend of complexity and beauty is very like Catholic theology – wheel within wheel, but wheels of glory, and the One radiated through the Many (The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves).

Perhaps it was one of these very wheels – or rings – that Tolkien observed so many years ago in the heavens?

* For those who are interested in fonts for your computers, you can download Tolkien-inspired typefaces here.

Errors that Seem to be True (Angels)

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, Christian Life, Christianity, J.R.R. Tolkien, Ministry, Nature, The Bible, The Future, Theological Matters21 Comments

Many people have been taught so little about biblical Truth that they believe many errors. For example, many people (and no offense intended if you are among them) mistakenly believe that when people die, they become angels.

That connection is so blatantly contrary to the fact that angels who “see the face [of God] who is in heaven” are completely different creations than the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who are actually human beings, created in the image of God.

In his preface to The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis alludes to how this confusion is reinforced by humanity’s lack of familiarity with angels in their true or natural (for them) form. While there are clear examples in the Bible where God has his angels appear in the likeness of human beings (e,g. before Sodom’s judgment and at the empty tomb), there are also times when their celestial radiance is not disguised (i.e. when the shepherds are informed about birth of the Savior or in John’s visions as recorded in the Book of Revelation).

[Angels] are given human form because man is the only rational creature we know. Creatures higher in the natural order than ourselves, either incorporeal or animating bodies of a sort we cannot experience, must be represented symbolically if they are to be represented at all (Screwtape Letters).

Nevertheless, this myth permeates the thinking of our secular culture. Once, some years past, a pastor friend was relating to me that one of his distant relatives had recently died. He said it comforted him to know that she was now an angel. I started to chuckle in response to his humorous way of lightening his own mood, until I realized he wasn’t joking. This poor, genuinely compassionate minister had been tricked by the spirit of this world into buying into a lie.

C.S. Lewis famously said that anything worth reading once is worth reading again. I’m clearing out some magazines from several years ago, and rereading insightful articles as I go. In a short piece about a complex subject, “What Happens to the Dead?” Ryan Pemberton makes a troubling comment.

Pop culture has done more to shape modern views about death than biblical teaching has.

The brevity of the article prevents the author from exploring other subjects, but his observation is applicable to a wide array of concerns.

I’m confident I could state, without fear of contradiction, that contemporary culture has done more to shape modern views about marriage than biblical teaching has. And, adding only a few additional examples, more about . . . justice . . . demons . . . love . . . mental health . . . responsibility . . . heaven . . . labor . . . creation . . . and Jesus himself.

It’s Not All Bad

It should be admitted that not all contemporary insights have been 100% misguided. One area where modern sensibilities have restored balance to truthful thinking is in the area of care for the environment. Ignoring extreme notions about nature being more important than human life, we can applaud the work of Christian environmentalists who have helped restore a biblical (i.e. true) view of the world around us.

Reacting to twisted notions that humanity’s “dominion” over the earth allows for nature’s misuse and abuse, these men and women helped open our eyes to the fact that God calls us to be trustworthy stewards in our care of, and appreciation for, this amazing world he has made.

The Inklings, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, in particular, possessed a profound love for nature. Their general antipathy to the ugly and polluting trappings of industrialization are grounded in their belief that the world God created was truly “good.” With that came the recognition that man does little to enhance, and much to undermine, that initial goodness.

When two ideas clash, go with the one that is correct. And, when one of those authorities is the Word of the Creator of all that exists, well, isn’t it obvious which is the right choice?

Angels & People

For more on the angelic subject with which we began, check out the provocatively titled “People Aren’t Downgraded to Angels When They Die.” As the author there so rightly explains,

When Christians die, heaven does not “get another angel.” We cannot become angels any more than we can become giraffes or ocean waves or stars. We are people and will remain so after this present life. God did not make a mistake when he made us human.

On the Anniversary of C.S. Lewis’ Death

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Christian Life, Great Authors, Literature, Writing3 Comments

Today, on the sixtieth anniversary of C.S. Lewis’ passing, I offer you a special gift. Well, not a modest gift from my own pen, but a link to an insightful obituary, written by one of Lewis’ students.

The author of the obituary, John Wain, one of Britain’s “angry young men,” is critical of some aspects of Lewis’ work that are most appreciated by others. Yet his unique perspective is valuable. 

The Inklings included in their number Charles Williams, a man C.S. Lewis deeply respected. They compiled for him a Festschrift, but since he passed before it was presented, it was published as a memorial collection. Lewis wrote the preface, in which he included this amazing passage.

So, at any rate, many of us felt it to be. No event has so corroborated my faith in the next world as Williams did simply by dying. When the idea of death and the idea of Williams thus met in my mind, it was the idea of death that was changed. (Essays presented to Charles Williams).

The legacy of C.S. Lewis himself, exerts a similar influence on many.

I’ll not say more, other than to extend a sincere “thank you” to Dr. Brenton Dickieson, who transcribed it from a twentieth century literary magazine. Dickieson consistently provides solid, and accessible, Inkling scholarship at A Pilgrim in Narnia. 

An Obituary of C.S. Lewis by John Barrington Wain CBE

Happy Thanksgiving to citizens of the United States, and a belated Thanksgiving to Canadians such as Dickieson.