Writers, AI & C.S. Lewis

Artificial intelligence is on the rise. It’s IQ is somewhere above 75, and presumably still climbing. And some very intelligent human beings, are issuing apocalyptic warnings

“Mitigating the risk of extinction from A.I. should be a global priority alongside other societal-scale risks, such as pandemics and nuclear war,” reads a one-sentence statement released by the Center for AI Safety, a nonprofit organization. The open letter was signed by more than 350 executives, researchers and engineers working in A.I.

Presently, I’m more wary of Russia, China and Iran igniting an end of the world scenario.

But there is one particular aspect of artificial intelligence that intrigues me. And that is the creation of literary works by these programs, which are themselves creations of humankind.

Some people, such as copywriters, feel their livelihoods are being threatened. “My amusement turned to horror: it took ChatGPT 30 seconds to create, for free, an article that would have taken me hours to write.” (And that was clocked way back in January; no telling how quickly the AI could perform the feat today.)

Others – think teachers – are alarmed by how simply this new technology can seduce students to take self-crippling shortcuts. One article refers to this as “the elephant in the room.” 

Perhaps all questions centered on AI are inherently questions of ethics, and at the forefront of many teachers’ minds is cheating and plagiarism.

Cheating and plagiarism are two separate concerns, of course. AI is capable of not only drawing together already existing material, and generating new word combinations that cannot be tracked back to any unique original source.

I feel confident that the Inklings would be extremely suspicious of computer-generated “literature.” Yet, at the same time, I think it is a subject they too would find intriguing.

Test-Driving AI

There are a myriad of free sites where a person can enter some basic parameters or directions and await the product of text generated by a synthetic “mind.” I share below some examples of the input—output results of my initial experiment.

I asked  Open AI, creators of ChatGPT, to write two limericks, about the Oxford Inklings and C.S. Lewis, respectively.

In Oxford, the Inklings did meet,
With words and with wisdom so sweet.
Tolkien and Lewis,
Their minds in a breeze,
Inkling tales made our imaginations fleet.

C.S. Lewis, a writer so grand,
In Narnia’s magical land.
With Aslan the Lion,
In tales that inspire,
He showed us the way to understand.

Next I asked for an Inkling sonnet, followed by two haikus, addressing the Inklings as a fellowship and C.S. Lewis the individual.

In Oxford’s hallowed halls, they gathered ‘round,
The Inklings, minds of genius, so profound.
With ink-stained fingers, in their fellowship,
They wove their tales, from wisdom’s well to sip.

Tolkien, the philologist of ancient lore,
In Elvish tongues, his stories did explore.
Lewis, the Christian apologist true,
In Narnia’s world, he brought God’s message through.

Williams, Barfield, Dyson, and the rest,
In literature and faith, they were blessed.
Their words a beacon in a world so dark,
Igniting minds with sparks from wisdom’s arc.

Oxford’s Inklings, their legacy remains,
In timeless tales, where inspiration reigns.

Inklings’ minds aflame,
Oxford’s thinkers left their mark,
Words and wisdom’s claim.

C.S. Lewis penned grace,
Faith and fantasy embraced,
Words that still embrace.

And finally, I requested: “write a story about C.S. Lewis really traveling to Narnia.” The program has a “regenerate” button to address the same query with a fresh response. Due to their lengths, I’ve included them as “footnotes” below.

Shockingly, to me at least, it took less than 10 minutes to complete all of this. Each response, in fact, took mere seconds . . . not much longer than the time required to type the requests. 

There are a growing number of companies offering AI services. Most offer free opportunities to test their wares. I decided to try one such vendor. 

WriterHand declares “our tool is 100% free, allowing you to create limitless text and blog content with the assistance of artificial intelligence.” I requested of them a sonnet and haiku, as well. The first follows, with two other variants in the footnotes below.

The Oxford Inklings, a literary group
Of J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and more
Created stories that still make us droop
And have us seeking out their lore.

Their works of fantasy and myth
Fill our imaginations with delight
We all search for the answers they lit
To the depths of our inner sight.

They wrote of worlds we can explore
Of knights, dragons and magical things
We follow their tales and come back for more
And find joy in their musings.

The Oxford Inklings have a special charm
Their words bring us together in song
And we are forever in their warm
Enchanting arms of wonder and long.

Inklings of Oxford
Stories of fantasy told
Enchantment forever

As with ChatGPT, I ended by requesting a brief, fictional story. My request was for a story about:

C.S. Lewis Meeting an Actual Talking Marsupial

On a recent summer day, C.S. Lewis, the famed author of the Chronicles of Narnia series, had a very extraordinary encounter. He had the chance to meet an actual talking marsupial.

The marsupial was a small wallaby, and it was found on the grounds of Lewis’ estate. It was not long before the wallaby began speaking to Lewis in a highly sophisticated manner. The wallaby spoke in a dialect that sounded similar to English, and was even able to converse with Lewis about the various topics he enjoyed discussing.

The wallaby was quite curious about Lewis and seemed to be quite eager to learn more about him and his works. It asked numerous questions about the Narnia series and the world that Lewis had created. It seemed to be quite fascinated by the various creatures and wonders that he had described.

The wallaby seemed to be quite intelligent and even asked for Lewis’ advice on certain topics. Lewis found the wallaby’s interest in the Narnia series quite amusing and was quite impressed by its intelligence and wit.

This meeting between Lewis and the talking marsupial was one that Lewis would never forget. It was an experience that he found both fascinating and enlightening. He was amazed by the marsupial’s intelligence and ability to converse on a level that exceeded many humans.

Lewis was quite taken aback by the talking marsupial’s presence and the conversation that ensued. He was quite intrigued by the creature’s intelligence and the fact that it could understand complex topics. This experience would later serve to further inspire Lewis’ writing and help him create some of the most beloved characters in literature.

This experience between Lewis and the talking marsupial was truly extraordinary and one that will never be forgotten. It was a meeting that allowed Lewis to learn more about the creatures that inhabit his beloved Narnia and to gain a better understanding of the power of imagination and creativity.

A Final Thought from C.S. Lewis

One of C.S. Lewis’ countless correspondents was the famous British author Arthur C. Clarke. In 1954, they exchanged letters discussing the human element of literature. I suppose it’s a subject for philosophers to explore, but one wonders how clearly the “humanity” element is communicated through a nonhuman mechanism. Sadly, Lewis’ letter is not so prescient as to address our current question, but it was sufficient to raise the matter in my own thoughts.

Dear Clarke,

Human interest, yes. But that is inevitably present if the fears and hopes and wonders of the astronauts are vividly realised – e.g. as in Bedford & Cavor on the Moon [he refers here to H.G. Wells’ The First Men in the Moon] or even Crusoe on the island. And an author who can’t do that won’t mend matters by dragging in Crooks, Crutches, or Conspiracies: for the sort of story he drags in will be just as lacking in Human interest as his space story.

About ‘escapism,’ never let that flea stick in your ear. I was liberated from it once & for all when a friend said ‘These critics are v. sensitive to the least hint of Escape. Now what class of men would one expect to be thus worked-up about Escape? – Jailers.’ Turn-key critics: people who want to keep the world in some ideological prison because a glimpse at any remote prospect would make their stuff seem less exclusively important.

Fantasy & S-F. is by miles the best. Some of the most serious satire of our age appears in it. What is called ‘serious’ literature now – Dylan Thomas & Pound and all that – is really the most frivolous. All the best. Yours C.S. Lewis


The two brief stories below were generated by ChatGPT in response to the request for a story about Lewis actually visiting Narnia.

In the quiet confines of his cozy Oxford study, C.S. Lewis sat by his flickering fireplace, a manuscript of his latest book on theology resting on his desk. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, marking the time as late evening gave way to the inky embrace of night. Lewis’s eyes grew heavy, and he decided it was time to retire to bed.

As he settled into his comfortable bed, he couldn’t shake the feeling of restlessness that had gripped him that evening. He stared at the wardrobe across the room, the same wardrobe that had once belonged to his grandparents and had always fascinated him as a child. He closed his eyes and drifted into a dream, or so he thought.

To his astonishment, Lewis found himself standing before the wardrobe, which now seemed more magnificent than ever. It loomed like a gateway to another world, and he couldn’t resist the urge to open its creaking doors. With a sense of wonder and trepidation, he stepped inside.

Instead of feeling wood beneath his feet, Lewis’s toes sank into soft, cool earth. He looked around and found himself standing in a dense, snow-covered forest. The air was crisp and carried a scent of pine and adventure. He realized that he was in Narnia.

Before him stood a lamppost, its light casting a warm and inviting glow. Lewis recognized it from his own stories. He couldn’t help but smile, realizing that he had somehow stepped into the world he had created through his Chronicles of Narnia.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, Lewis encountered creatures of myth and magic—talking animals, fauns, and even a majestic lion named Aslan. They welcomed him with open arms, for they knew him as the one who had brought their world to life through his words.

Days turned into weeks, and Lewis explored Narnia with childlike wonder. He sailed on the Dawn Treader, encountered the White Witch, and witnessed the coronation of King Caspian. He marveled at the beauty of Narnia’s landscapes, the bravery of its inhabitants, and the profound wisdom of Aslan.

Throughout his journey, Lewis engaged in deep conversations with the creatures of Narnia, discussing matters of faith, morality, and the nature of storytelling. Each encounter enriched his understanding of the Christian faith he had embraced in the real world.

Eventually, Lewis knew that he had to return to his own world. With a heavy heart, he stood before the same lamppost where he had first arrived and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was back in his Oxford bedroom, the wardrobe standing silent and ordinary once more.

He sat at his desk, the manuscript still awaiting him, but now with a newfound sense of purpose and inspiration. The memories of Narnia, his journey, and the lessons he had learned would forever shape his writing and his faith.

C.S. Lewis had indeed traveled to Narnia, not in body, but in spirit and imagination, and his stories would continue to transport readers to that magical world for generations to come.

Using the “regenerate” option with the same command: “write a story about C.S. Lewis really traveling to Narnia.”

Once upon a time in the quiet town of Oxford, C.S. Lewis, the renowned author and scholar, found himself embarking on a remarkable adventure. It was a crisp, autumn evening when he was invited to attend a secret gathering by a mysterious stranger who had slipped an enigmatic note under his door. The note simply read, “Come, Narnia awaits.”

Intrigued and a bit skeptical, Lewis decided to follow the call. He put on his overcoat, grabbed his umbrella, and stepped out into the cool night. The moon was a silvery crescent in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the cobblestone streets.

As he followed the directions given in the note, Lewis found himself walking through an old, secluded part of Oxford that he had never seen before. The air seemed to grow colder, and the world around him took on an otherworldly quality. Suddenly, he stumbled upon a large, ancient wardrobe tucked away in the corner of a park.

With a sense of déjà vu, Lewis remembered writing about such a wardrobe in one of his stories. He cautiously opened the wardrobe door, half-expecting it to be filled with coats and mothballs. To his astonishment, the wardrobe seemed to stretch and expand, and he found himself tumbling headfirst into a land covered in snow and surrounded by towering fir trees.

He had arrived in Narnia.

The moment his feet touched the snowy ground, Mr. Tumnus, the faun, rushed forward with a smile and exclaimed, “Welcome, dear friend! We’ve been waiting for you.”

Lewis was both bewildered and delighted. As he explored Narnia, he met talking animals, dwarves, and even the great lion, Aslan, whom he had created in his own stories. The world he had once imagined had come to life before his eyes.

Days turned into weeks, and Lewis became a beloved member of the Narnian community. He marveled at the beauty and wonder of this magical land. He listened to the tales of its inhabitants, learned from their wisdom, and shared stories of his own.

But as all adventures must come to an end, Lewis knew he couldn’t stay in Narnia forever. With a heavy heart, he approached the wardrobe once more and stepped back into his own world, leaving Narnia behind.

Back in Oxford, Lewis couldn’t help but wonder if his journey to Narnia had been a dream or a product of his imagination. Yet, the memories were vivid, and the lessons he had learned about faith, courage, and the power of imagination remained with him for the rest of his days.

And so, the story of C.S. Lewis’s extraordinary voyage to Narnia remained a secret he carried with him, a testament to the enduring magic of literature and the boundless possibilities of the human imagination.

Variants of the sonnet and haiku produced by WriterHand follow.

The Oxford Inklings were a group of friends
Whose conversations filled the air with wit and wit;
Their words of wisdom still live on to this day,
Their legacy of literature still stands tall and lit.

From C.S. Lewis to J.R.R. Tolkien
They bantered and debated through the night;
Their words and stories filled us all with joy,
A source of inspiration, both dark and light.

From fantasy to science fiction,
The Inklings had a way with words;
Their genres and stories still stand the test of time,
And their influence still continues to be heard.

The Oxford Inklings and their works
Will live on in the hearts of many;
Their words will inspire generations to come,
A lasting legacy of literary plenty.

The Inkling’s works shine
A legacy of wisdom still
In our hearts, forever

The Oxford Inklings were a unique group
Formed in the city of dreaming spires
A gathering of friends with a shared goal
To explore the depths of their desires

A fellowship of authors, poets, and more
Including Tolkien, Lewis, and Williams
Discussing literature, theology, and lore
In the Eagle and Child’s hidden realms

From the Inklings came works of great fame
The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings
Legends of Middle Earth and tales of great shame
A legacy that will last through the ages

The Oxford Inklings were a brilliant crew
Inspiring writers and readers anew.

Oxford Inklings’ lore
In tales of fantasy and truth
Lives on forever

Add this Book to Your Library

No one can teach us to “write like C.S. Lewis.” The great author was definitely one of a kind.

It is possible, however, to study Lewis’ advice about writing. And that is a journey well worth taking.

Many students of C.S. Lewis are quite curious about his advice for writing well. And, for the proverbial “limited time,” the premier study of that subject is available at an unbelievable price.

The kindle version of C. S. Lewis and the Art of Writing: What the Essayist, Poet, Novelist, Literary Critic, Apologist, Memoirist, Theologian Teaches Us about the Life and Craft of Writing is only three dollars at amazon. (Great subtitle, right?)

Coincidentally, I only recently purchased the volume for my Logos library (at a significantly higher cost). I’ve yet to read it, but it appears to be worth what I paid. Still, I don’t want any readers of Mere Inkling to miss out on this opportunity to get such a bargain.

Wipf and Stock, the publishers, regularly place a few titles from their excellent list on sale. The current offering features another book I previously purchased at full price, The Gospel According to Star Trek: The Original Crew. (I mention that, confident there is at least one other trekkie out there reading this.)

Writing about Writing

Many people who follow blogs such as Mere Inkling are bloggers themselves. It’s rare to find a writer who doesn’t also like to read. And because of the complementarity of reading and writing, books about writing always find an audience.

In my “works in progress” (research) files, I have a handful of projects related to writing. One of them is—digital drumroll—C.S. Lewis on Writing.

That’s the main reason I haven’t begun reading the book I’m recommending. While I assume our approaches to the topic will be different enough to avoid any suggestion of plagiarism, I’m reluctant to open the door to unsought influences.

I have never plagiarized, and never will. In fact, I tend to overattribute thoughts. So, eventually I will read the work, since I’m forearmed with my integrity, and I understand that, as a well-known science fiction writer once reminded me . . .

Ideas cannot be copyrighted—only the particular expressions of ideas are protected by copyright.

As the writer of “5 Things that Can’t be Copyrighted” says:

Ideas can not [sic] be copyrighted because they are not fixed into a tangible medium of expression. For a work to be copyrighted, it has to be written down, saved to a hard drive or somehow otherwise fixed.

For example, if you give a speech but fail to write it down first and it isn’t recorded, there is no copyright protection. . . . it is the expression of the idea that is protected. My “5 Things That Can’t Be Copyrighted” post is fixed, but you can certainly write your own post with the same title and idea. However, you can not use my exact words, unless, of course, you follow my CC [Creative Commons] license.

Those of you who are American can learn more about protections covered in the United States at this site. They dispel some of the myths associated with copyrights, such as whether something must be (1) “published” or (2) registered to be protected. (The answer to both is “no.”)

Someday you may have an opportunity to read C.S. Lewis on Writing by yours truly. In the meantime, don’t miss the opportunity to add C.S. Lewis and the Art of Writing to your personal library.

Typing is Not Writing

chimp

How is this for an absurd waste of time? A foolish man wanted “to feel what it was like to write like F. Scott Fitzgerald.” So, what did he do? Take writing classes? No, he had a better idea. He sat down at the keyboard and proceeded to type out a verbatim copy of The Great Gatsby.

Some of you may have heard this story, from the life of Hunter S. Thompson. He founded the “gonzo journalism” movement which dispenses with the pretense of objectivity. Sarcasm, humor and even profanity abound in this type of writing.

Thompson was apparently well suited to gonzoism, summarizing his life philosophy in this way: “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.” Which is, presumably, a personal endorsement, rather than advocacy.

Apparently, typing the same words as literary icons also “worked” for Thompson. He also retyped Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms to learn how to emulate his style.

I wonder what C.S. Lewis and his fellow Inklings would think of this approach to learning how to write. Lewis, of course, treasured good writing and recognized wide reading as a valuable inspiration for successful writing.

Nevertheless, if Lewis and Tolkien heard about Thompson’s exercise, I imagine they would enjoy a good laugh.

Reproducing typed facsimilies cannot be considered writing. Even an utterly illiterate person (or probably even a chimpanzee) could be trained to reproduce an original, key stroke by key stroke. (The monkey would probably benefit from a keyboard tailored to its particularly physiology.)

Emulating is Writing

When a lesser writer seeks to imitate the style of a renowned author, using their own creative skills and not plagiarizing, they are composing something original. There are several considerations to keep in mind.

Copyright restrictions may bar the work from publication. For example, it’s not yet legal for people to publish new Narnia stories.

Trademarks can also limit options for such works. Speaking of which, you don’t need to register a trademark to use TM in the United States, as we at MereInkling(TM) recently learned.

If registered with the USPTO, use the ® symbol after your mark.  If not yet registered, you may use TM for goods or SM for services, to indicate that you have adopted this as a “common law” trademark or service mark.

Works written as an homage—without any compensation or profit—is typically allowed. Thus we see innumerable variations on the Screwtape Letters. I have contributed to that mountain myself.

Basing a piece on the themes or voice of a masterpiece is altogether different from plagiarism.

There is one more critical point to make about a legitimate literary “tribute.” It can be based on the most anointed writing of the most impressive author . . . and still not be worth reading at all.

Which returns us to the typescripts reproduced by Thompson. Assuming he reproduced them faithfully, he is immune at least to the charge that the product of his typewriter is inferior to the original text.

That said, I find the two minutes I just invested in writing the following modest haiku more beneficial to my creativity than the hundreds of hours I might have spent literally copying a book I prize.

Retyping fixed words

Rather than shaping one’s own

Is a game for fools.

Plagiarizing Screwtape

breigHow many letters have you read that were penned in the tradition of C.S. Lewis’ groundbreaking Screwtape Letters?

If you’re a fan of the collection, you’ve probably read similar correspondence that owed its very existence to Lewis’ work.

Now a more sensitive question—have you ever written anything similar to The Screwtape Letters? I must confess that I have. In fact, I’m currently working on a similar collection I hope to finish during the coming year.

Many writers have tried their hand at writing angelic letters, with varying degrees of skill and success. After you finish this column, you might want to check out two examples right here at Mere Inkling: Screwtape Letters Anniversary and Screwtape Goes to War.

Some letters have been composed from the perspective of a heavenly angel (often perceived of as a “guardian” angel). Others have been, like Lewis’ innovative example, written from a diabolical angle. Demons, we recognize, have been cast out of the heavens for which they were created, but they still remain angels, albeit fallen angels.

One of the lures that motivates those who emulate the Screwtape Letters is found in C.S. Lewis’ statement that they were rather easy to compose, once he had undergone the uncomfortable process of placing himself in the mind of an enemy of God.

It is disorienting, to reverse reality. For example, to hate what God loves (i.e. his creation, and especially humanity). And it is this discomfort that Lewis alludes to in describing his reluctance to pursue the genre any further than he did.

Considering Copyrights

For writers, copyrights are precious. It is good news, unknown to many, that current law (at least in the United States) protects everything we write. As soon as it is created (the words are arranged in their unique order), our work is protected by copyright whether or not we use the © symbol.

I say this because the arrangement of words can be protected by law, but “ideas” cannot. (I’m not talking about patents here, but literary ideas or techniques.)

Thus, it’s possible to freely follow Lewis’ example. However, quotations should only be used with permission. (There are, of course, “fair use laws” that describe the acceptable use of quotations in various contexts.)

There was a bit of a scandal a few years after Lewis wrote The Screwtape Letters. Well, “scandal” is too serious a word. More like an awkward and uncertain moment, when an American journalist wrote a book that was clearly inspired by Lewis.

I’ve only recently received my copy of The Devil You Say by Joseph A. Breig. It was published in 1952, and the introduction echoes Lewis’ own. While the letters themselves appear to be independent of Lewis, I suspect the following parallel from the two prefaces shocked Lewis when he saw it.

I have no intention of explaining how the correspondence which I now offer to the public fell into my hands. (Lewis)

I have not the remotest intention of disclosing to anyone—not even my confessor—how these choice tidbits of demonology fell into my hands. (Breig)

Following its publication, one of Lewis’ correspondents, Idrisyn Oliver Evans, sent him a copy. Lewis’ response follows.

Magdalen College Oxford

27/ 4/ 53

Dear Evans I am really very sorry. The Devil you Say got put on a pile of ‘books received’– most of them (I don’t include yours) a major plague of my life–and I forgot all about it. I have now read a few pages: there was nothing to tempt one to go on. It certainly seems to be a gross plagiarism: I am writing to New York Macmillan to draw their attention to it. Thanks very much for sending it. With all good wishes, and thanks also to your American friend. Yours C.S. Lewis

I cannot find any record of whether or not Macmillan challenged the publication of the new volume.

Lewis had no objection to another writer developing his idea about devilish correspondence in their own creative direction. He simply desired to ensure his own work was not usurped.

Before ending, I would not want to leave a negative impression about Mr. Breig. In looking further into the work, one sees just how little resemblance it bears to The Screwtape Letters. It clearly is not plagiaristic. In fact, it’s quite possible that the line cited above was actually intended to be an homage to Lewis.

It turns out that Joseph Anthony Breig (1905-1982) was an accomplished and well respected Roman Catholic journalist.

Breig stayed at the Universe Bulletin until his retirement in March 1975. He continued to write his columns after 1975. They appeared not only in the Universe Bulletin but also in several other Catholic newspapers in the USA. Besides being a newspaper writer, Breig also wrote for many magazines (Ave Maria, Our Lady’s Digest, The Family Digest, Crozier, and others) and published eight books and several short stories and plays.

In honor of his work he received two honorary doctorates (St. Vincent College, Latrobe, Pennsylvania, 1954, and Carroll College, Helena, Montana, 1967). He also won several awards, one of which was the St. Francis de Sales Award from the Catholic Press Association in 1966. (The Book of Catholic Authors).

I’ll close with a final quotation from the same biographical source. When writers gaze at a blank sheet of paper they see many things. Some see it as naked canvas, and others as a challenge. I enjoyed the compliment offered by one of Breig’s editors, who praised his prolific literary production.

“Douglas Roche of Sign magazine . . . holds that Breig cannot endure the sight of a sheet of paper not covered with words.”