I'm reading Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis, for my mythology class.
And really, really trying to give the man some room. Because I know I've got, how should I put this, issues with that whole Christian worldview thing.
But man is this boy fracked up.
Did he never actually speak to an adult woman?
I know he was a professor at Oxford, and I know he hung out mostly with men; but it was after women students were admitted. And he did marry. So he must have known woman. At least one woman.
He apparently actually believes that being ugly -- or rather, being not pretty, because there's no hint that our main character is like a mutant or whatever -- destroys a woman so utterly that her life is ruined by it. Wholly warped by it. She's unable to recover from such a fate.
Were there no women in his life?
Obviously there must have been. But Mr. Lewis, just as obviously, either (a) paid them no mind [because woman don't matter -- only men matter?] or (b) was not interested in reality, only in what constructs he could spin.
Either way, I'm unhappy with his fictional universe.
I'm goingto read it again, since I'm teaching it, in case I have missed something -- and I might have missed something, of course. Maybe he's got some point that's gone right past me.
I've got my doubts, though. I'm thinking I was right the first time I read Lewis, back when I was twenty-six, and he's just a stupid old tip.
12 hours ago