J.G. Keely's Reviews > The Magician’s Nephew
The Magician’s Nephew (Chronicles of Narnia, #6)
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Suffers from the same problems as Lewis' other books, both his children's fantasy and his pokes at theology: Lewis' worldview is not sophisticated, and his sense of psychology has a large blind spot. However, it's not his faith that is the problem--it certainly wasn't a problem for Donne or Milton.
Lewis is simply unable to put himself in another's shoes, which is very problematic for a writer or a theologian. He cannot understand the reasons or motivations for why someone would do something he considers 'evil'. Unlike Milton, he cannot create a tempting devil, a sympathetic devil, and so Lewis' devils are not dangerous, because no one would ever fall for them.
His villains are like Snidely Whiplash: they are comically evil, evil not due to some internal motivation, but because the narrative requires it. Yet Lewis is not reveling in the comedic promise of overblown evil, he's trying to be instructive. So he dooms his own instruction: it is only capable of warning us about dangers which are so ridiculous that they never could have tempted us in the first place.
Likewise, his heroes are comically heroic: they are not people who struggle to be good, who have motivations and an internal life, they are just habitually, inexplicably good. There is nothing respectable in their characters, nothing in their philosophies for us to aspire to, they are just suffused with an indistinct 'goodness' which, like evil, is taken for granted.
But then, Lewis' world is mostly a faultless one. People never act or decide, they are lead along by empty symbols of pure good or pure evil, following one or the other because they are naive. As usual, Lewis' view of humanity is predictably dire: always too naive, too foolish to know what good and evil are, even when they are right in front of us, and yet we are apparently still to be reviled and cursed when they make the wrong decision, even if we couldn't have known what we were about.
Like many of Lewis' works, this could have made a profound satire, but it's all too precariously serious for Lewis to be mocking. There is something unusual in the fact that, whenever the amassed evidence of his plot, characters, and arguments point to a world of confusion in which man is utterly lost, Lewis always arrives at the conclusion that we are fundamentally culpable, despite the fact that he always depicts us as acting without recognition.
The really frightening thing about Lewis' worldview is that we can never seem to know whether we are naively following good or naively following evil, but that the difference between the two is vital and eternal. Like Calvin, he dooms us to one or another fate, and we shall never know which, yet unlike Calvin, Lewis never really accepts the ultimate conclusion this worldview suggests.
There seems to be, at the heart of Lewis' works, a desperate pride, a desperate sense that we do know, even when we think we don't, even when Lewis shows us a hundred examples where we couldn't possibly know. But that is the crux of the fundamental paradox around which Lewis inevitably frames his stories, the paradox which defines his life, his philosophies, and the impetus for his conversion.
Like most of us, Lewis seems to feel a deep need know what is right--to be right. Yet his experiences have shown him, again and again, that we are fundamentally ignorant, despite our most devoted attempts to be knowledgeable. It's an impassable contradiction.
Lewis saw a world filled with pain, ignorance, selfishness, cruelty, senseless violence, and refused to accept that this was part of human nature; so he made it an outside thing, a thing which was, for him, always clearly defined. He spent most of his writing career trying to show how the effect of this thing could be the excuse for why man commits such terrible acts, but without making man himself evil--but many men are desperate to avoid the idea that their own mistakes, their own forays into 'evil', are ultimately their own fault.
He is never able to define the point at which mere naivete becomes guilt. The two opposing forces of ignorant evil and willful evil are always nebulous for Lewis, and he never succeeds in defining where one ends and the other begins, where foolishness becomes damnation.
He never defines it philosophically, theologically, or psychologically. Usually, he just draws a line arbitrarily between 'good people' (people like him) and 'bad people' (everyone else). Like Tolkien, he takes the comfortable and familiar and fences it off--a little peaceful island home, safe against an incomprehensible world.
It's a comforting worldview, one many of us feel drawn to, that sense of isolation, 'us against the world', the need to be right at all costs, to be different from those we habitually condemn, to know what is good and what is not--but it is not a coherent philosophy, it is not conducive to self-awareness, and it's certainly not the sort of thing we need to be feeding our children. Indeed, the only thing such self-justification invites is further ignorance, prejudice, and conflict.
My List of Suggested Fantasy Books
Lewis is simply unable to put himself in another's shoes, which is very problematic for a writer or a theologian. He cannot understand the reasons or motivations for why someone would do something he considers 'evil'. Unlike Milton, he cannot create a tempting devil, a sympathetic devil, and so Lewis' devils are not dangerous, because no one would ever fall for them.
His villains are like Snidely Whiplash: they are comically evil, evil not due to some internal motivation, but because the narrative requires it. Yet Lewis is not reveling in the comedic promise of overblown evil, he's trying to be instructive. So he dooms his own instruction: it is only capable of warning us about dangers which are so ridiculous that they never could have tempted us in the first place.
Likewise, his heroes are comically heroic: they are not people who struggle to be good, who have motivations and an internal life, they are just habitually, inexplicably good. There is nothing respectable in their characters, nothing in their philosophies for us to aspire to, they are just suffused with an indistinct 'goodness' which, like evil, is taken for granted.
But then, Lewis' world is mostly a faultless one. People never act or decide, they are lead along by empty symbols of pure good or pure evil, following one or the other because they are naive. As usual, Lewis' view of humanity is predictably dire: always too naive, too foolish to know what good and evil are, even when they are right in front of us, and yet we are apparently still to be reviled and cursed when they make the wrong decision, even if we couldn't have known what we were about.
Like many of Lewis' works, this could have made a profound satire, but it's all too precariously serious for Lewis to be mocking. There is something unusual in the fact that, whenever the amassed evidence of his plot, characters, and arguments point to a world of confusion in which man is utterly lost, Lewis always arrives at the conclusion that we are fundamentally culpable, despite the fact that he always depicts us as acting without recognition.
The really frightening thing about Lewis' worldview is that we can never seem to know whether we are naively following good or naively following evil, but that the difference between the two is vital and eternal. Like Calvin, he dooms us to one or another fate, and we shall never know which, yet unlike Calvin, Lewis never really accepts the ultimate conclusion this worldview suggests.
There seems to be, at the heart of Lewis' works, a desperate pride, a desperate sense that we do know, even when we think we don't, even when Lewis shows us a hundred examples where we couldn't possibly know. But that is the crux of the fundamental paradox around which Lewis inevitably frames his stories, the paradox which defines his life, his philosophies, and the impetus for his conversion.
Like most of us, Lewis seems to feel a deep need know what is right--to be right. Yet his experiences have shown him, again and again, that we are fundamentally ignorant, despite our most devoted attempts to be knowledgeable. It's an impassable contradiction.
Lewis saw a world filled with pain, ignorance, selfishness, cruelty, senseless violence, and refused to accept that this was part of human nature; so he made it an outside thing, a thing which was, for him, always clearly defined. He spent most of his writing career trying to show how the effect of this thing could be the excuse for why man commits such terrible acts, but without making man himself evil--but many men are desperate to avoid the idea that their own mistakes, their own forays into 'evil', are ultimately their own fault.
He is never able to define the point at which mere naivete becomes guilt. The two opposing forces of ignorant evil and willful evil are always nebulous for Lewis, and he never succeeds in defining where one ends and the other begins, where foolishness becomes damnation.
He never defines it philosophically, theologically, or psychologically. Usually, he just draws a line arbitrarily between 'good people' (people like him) and 'bad people' (everyone else). Like Tolkien, he takes the comfortable and familiar and fences it off--a little peaceful island home, safe against an incomprehensible world.
It's a comforting worldview, one many of us feel drawn to, that sense of isolation, 'us against the world', the need to be right at all costs, to be different from those we habitually condemn, to know what is good and what is not--but it is not a coherent philosophy, it is not conducive to self-awareness, and it's certainly not the sort of thing we need to be feeding our children. Indeed, the only thing such self-justification invites is further ignorance, prejudice, and conflict.
My List of Suggested Fantasy Books
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Reading Progress
March 16, 2010
– Shelved
March 16, 2010
– Shelved as:
fantasy
May 29, 2011
–
Started Reading
May 30, 2011
– Shelved as:
uk-and-ireland
June 5, 2011
–
Finished Reading
July 28, 2011
– Shelved as:
reviewed
Comments Showing 1-50 of 170 (170 new)
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Jul 30, 2011 02:03AM
![I](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1503696352p1/3158391.jpg)
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![Anabelee](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1311685815p1/3351609.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I worry that they might see Lewis constructing one-sided, simplistic arguments and then assume that this is the best way for them to develop and defend their own opinions. Even if children aren't convinced by what Lewis thinks, the way he presents it may encourage them to avoid intellectual rigor in favor of shortcuts and emotional manipulation; assuming that, since Lewis and other authors set this as an example, it is an appropriate way to present ideas.
![Von Sowards](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1340055455p1/2806063.jpg)
C. S. Lewis always made it clear that these are books for children. That is the reason why as the character get older they could not come back to Narina. Lewis wanted to have that blissful childhood story where even a child can spot the good guys and bad guys.
I liked what you said about how the devil is just so obviously trying to get them to do bad that it is almost comical. He uses that to the advantage of the story. As each character chooses to listen to the wrong they find that it really was a very stupid idea to begin with. It life when we recognize our sins we all often think "now why did I even think that was a good idea, it was just plain studid!" Lewis created this story to show this in a very obvious as well as innocent way to get the point across.
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I guess my problem is that in most cases in life, it's not obvious what's going to be harmful. Harmful things often seem innocuous or even useful at the time, so if we follow Lewis' guidelines, we'd end up doing a lot of destructive things because they didn't seem overtly bad at first. Indeed, there are plenty of people who make huge profits and live long lives stealing and taking advantage of others, but who never behave with the comical evilness of Lewis' villains.
In my mind, Lewis' worldview is training children to accept any harmful people or behaviors that are not absurdly, pointlessly mean. His 'blissful childhood story' makes children even more naive and uninformed about life, good, and evil than they were before they read it.
![Sarah Guarini](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1574544312p1/8898644.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I think children are much better at picking up on subtlety than most people give them credit for. I find Lewis' work to be condescending and oversimplified, even for an audience of children.
"Milton wrote . . . to a society filled with great political and religious unrest."
Are you suggesting that the World Wars which Lewis lived through were a period of less political unrest, or of fewer challenges to faith? Do you not think the horror and hopelessness Lewis experienced both firsthand and as an observer of those wars affected his coming to faith?
"Lewis's "Screwtape Letters" should prove that he is more than capable of putting himself.in other people's shoes."
I read The Screwtape Letters and found it to be equally hypocritical and poorly structured. I reviewed it here, if you are interested.
![Amanda](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1371595977p1/12061286.jpg)
![Amanda](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1371595977p1/12061286.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I know there are other points of view out there, but I have not yet seen a review of Lewis which can account for the shortfalls and internal conflicts I found in his stories and philosophies. I won't deny the possibility that someone may be able to point out something I haven't considered, which could totally change my mind on the subject--it's been known to happen before. But unless that happens, what I have put forth here is the best and most accurate view of Lewis I have.
It's true that our views on things are subjective, but that doesn't weaken them. Subjective things are the only things worth discussing because they are the only things we can differ about. We cannot have differing opinions on objective matters, or they wouldn't be objective.
There are many levels of subjectivity: both strong and weak arguments, apt and flawed observations, causal fallacies and demonstrable trends. That's why I try to include explanations and arguments in my reviews: so that my subjective opinions have some substance that can be discussed, agreed with or disagreed with.
It might make the review stronger to have quotes and textual citations, but in the few times I have done that in my reviews, commentators just ignore the textual arguments, anyways, so it has not inspired me to put in that extra level of work.
My general rule of thumb is that if someone is capable of using superior arguments and textual evidence to contradict me, then I probably need to go back and make a textual argument of my own--but of course, this never actually happens. Most people just demand I make textual arguments without offering any of their own, which seems rather hypocritical.
Thanks for the comments.
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
![SuperHeroQwimm](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1632027031p1/9740615.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I don't see any reason that Lewis couldn't have based his fun adventure on sound ideas and well-constructed characters. I mean, if you read old fairy tales or something like Alice in Wonderland, it's clear that it's possible for a story to entertain and engage children (and their sense of wonder) without presenting a bland and sanitized world devoid of possibility.
![Sarah](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1716778791p1/15683770.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
"The point to a fairytale isn't even based on sound ideas- that defeats the whole meaning of a fairytale, ESPECIALLY Alice in Wonderland."
If you think that, then I'd suggest that you don't know what fairy tales are about, or what Alice is about. These are not meaningless stories, they are stories with very deliberate meanings and commentaries on how societies work. Fairytales were always meant to be instructive, to present moral and social conundrums to children in ways that they can make sense of.
Lewis' story, likewise, has its own intrinsic message, but as I lay out in my review, I don't think it's a very good message to send--to children or to adults. However, it is a message that many people find comforting, because it justifies their own prejudices, so it isn't surprising to me that his work became popular.
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
If you didn't pick that up from my review, then there may be a more fundamental problem at hand . . .
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
![Sarah](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1716778791p1/15683770.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I don't believe you do--at least, you've said nothing so far that would indicate that you do. That's why I have no interest in restating my points for you, because I don't see anything worthwhile coming out of it. You have yet to produce any cogent critiques or questions, or in any way demonstrate that you understand what's been written.
"thanks for proving what I concluded earlier!"
It strikes me as quite rude and self-centered to demand other people restate their points and arguments when you have not even made an attempt to address or understand them in the first place. It's especially hypocritical when you demand such things of others while at the same time stating that your own prejudicial conclusions have been confirmed without being able to explain either what those conclusions are, or how anything that has been said is supposed to prove them. Your bland implications demonstrate only an unhealthy habit for unfounded self-justifications.
![Criss](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1315815955p1/6274266.jpg)
As I said at the very beginning, I didn't mean to be disrespectful in any way, but please keep in mind that if you don't enjoy a book or its ideas or style, you are free to stop reading it. Criticizing a children's book doesn't prove anything grand about you as a person...
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
That's not why I write reviews. I do it to look at how books and stories work, how authors use and express ideas. You say you found the books to be smart and funny, but what I'd want to know is why it made you feel that way, what did the author do to make you feel that way? When we analyze books, we can learn about ourselves and about the world, about how people work and what is important in life.
Sure, opinions are personal, but I'm also talking about ideas and techniques, not just my personal opinion. Whether a person likes or dislikes a book, I think what's most interesting is the reasons behind how they feel. I'm not trying to 'prove' anything, I'm just discussing ideas, and if that doesn't interest you you're free to stop reading.
While this may be a book written for children, it was still written by an adult.
![Kimmy](https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/f_25x33-d79c46f9428d2aea1444d67c091766a6.png)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
Well, I think everyone is looking for books they are going to enjoy, it's just that some people enjoy books for different reasons. I mean, it looks like you've given some books lower ratings, so clearly you didn't enjoy everything you read, just like how I didn't enjoy these books.
For me, I like to ask myself why I liked a book, or didn't like it. If I can understand that, it's be easier for me to find books that I'll enjoy and avoid ones that I won't.
So, when I read the Narnia books, I was also looking for something I would enjoy, but I didn't enjoy it, for the reasons in my review. I didn't find them to be particularly fantastical or mystical or wondrous, compared to other books I've read. They were pretty dull and unoriginal to me.
Anyhow, thanks for the comment.
![Chris](https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_25x33-ccd24e68f4773d33a41ce08c3a34892e.png)
As I read your review it seems every statement you make has a quote or book that comes to mind that directly contradicts your opinion. A valuable review should enlighten and resonate with a reader to allow them to see something they did not before. However, I get the impression that you haven't even read Lewis (even though I'm sure you have).
An example of a time in your review where I get this impression is when you say that characters do good inexplicably instead of having a personal struggle. One instance is when Digory is tempted by the queen to take the apple back to his mother without Aslan knowing. I got the impression thoroughly that he was a hairs breathe away from doing precisely what the queen was proposing.
The more problematic part of your review in would say is the where you propose that Lewis lacks an ability to empathize with a real person and their temptations. If you read the Problem of Pain I doubt you would say something like this. Your statement seems ludicrous in light of that book.
Now I'll take a stab at psychoanalysis of your review with little to no training to do so! I would bet you disagree with the traditional christian morality paradigm and Lewis represents that to you. Less of the fact that Lewis is incapable of empathizing with the reader and more with the fact that he does not empathize with you. No?
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
Actually, I've read quite a few of Lewis' works, and I find they all tend to fall to the same errors.
"If you read the Problem of Pain I doubt you would say something like this. Your statement seems ludicrous in light of that book."
Well then, it's a good thing that this isn't a review of that book, which I haven't read.
"Now I'll take a stab at psychoanalysis of your review with little to no training to do so! I would bet you disagree with the traditional christian morality paradigm and Lewis represents that to you."
Actually, I don't think of Lewis as presenting a traditional Christian worldview at all, but rather his own odd, somewhat Calvinistic take on things. As I say in my review, I never had a problem with Milton's Christianity, or Dante's, or Petrarch's--because they still managed to tackle interesting and complex ideas within the framework of their faith.
Indeed, based upon the theologians I have spoken to, Lewis is not considered to represent a traditional Christian worldview. Indeed, Lewis himself discovered during his famous debate with Elizabeth Anscombe that his theology had numerous flaws. His friend and biographer, George Sayers wrote of the incident:
"'He told me that he had been proved wrong, and that his argument for the existence of God had been demolished....The debate had been a humiliating experience, but perhaps it was ultimately good for him. In the past, he had been are too proud of his logical ability. Now he was humbled....'I can never write another book of that sort' he said to me of 'Miracles.' And he never did. He also never wrote another theological book. 'Reflections on the Psalms' is really devotional and literary; 'Letters to Malcolm' is also a devotional book, a series of reflections on prayer, without contentious arguments.'"
And Lewis wrote the following to a friend:
"The lady is quite right to refute what she thinks bad theistic arguments, but does this not almost oblige her as a Christian to find good ones in their place: having obliterated me as an Apologist ought she not to succeed me?"
And another:
"I wish your project heartily well but can't write you articles. My thought and talent (such as they are) now flow in different, though I think not less Christian, channels, and I do not think I am at all likely to write more directly theological pieces. . . . If I am now good for anything it is for catching the reader unawares — thro' fiction and symbol. I have done what I could in the way of frontal attacks, but I now feel quite sure those days are over."
Which explains why, after that debate, he ceased trying to write theological works in favor of emotional appeals and such apologetics. Yet, even in his symbolic work, like that of Narnia, I feel the flaws in his theological reasoning continue to show through.
It's not the subject of theology in general I'm objecting to, it's Lewis' own unfounded and poorly-constructed worldview.
![Wastrel](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1317660831p1/5743748.jpg)
A great deal of Lewis, both as a theologian and as an author, is attempting to follow in the footsteps of Chesterton. Chesterton's stated ambition for fantasy was that rather than demonstrating or explaining the existence of evil (or, contrariwise, of good), it could show children that evil could be overcome, even though it might seem impossible.
Looked at from this point of view, it's unsurprising that Lewis didn't go into detail about why people were evil, or what evil was, or what the difference was between a good person and a bad person - Chesterton says that these are things that every child knows already. (And while that obviously isn't true for every moral nuance, one thing that children are good at picking up on is moral character - they know who they like and who they dislike before they can explain why). These things aren't really relevent to the purpose of the books, which is to give hope.
The Narnia novels aren't really an examination of the psycholocial nature of evil, it's true - they don't try to be. They're stories about how the good, nice children can eventually 'defeat' the bullies. When you're telling a story like that, you don't have to analyse why the bullies are being bullies - indeed, to a child, the seemingly motiveless spite is part of what a bully is. Showing that bullies are human too stops them from being monsters - and when your whole story is about defeating monsters, that's sort of counterproductive.
Of course, neither chesterton nor lewis believed that any actual people were monsters. The villains are just proxies for the global defeat of evil by good.
There is, clearly, a place for stories that demythologise evil, that show how and why the villain is villainous and make the reader understand and sympathise. But that's a very different sort of story (it's a more cynical and adult sort). Both chesterton and lewis wrote many works in which they acknowledged and explored the complexity of evil, and its seductiveness. But Lewis' children's stories are not those works.
Milton has to make Satan sympathetic and human. By making his fall more understandable, he shows his readers how insidious temptation can be, how easy it is to go wrong. It's aimed at adult vanity and pride. But Lewis isn't interested in showing how easy it is to become evil - he assumes that children are already afflicted by doubt and despair and don't need any more of it. So his books show how you don't need to be evil to be victorious, and how, even though evil is present in the world and may seem all-powerful, nonetheless it can be overcome.
This may seem problematic to an adult reader, who has to deal with the messy realities of the world. But it makes this type of story extremely popular with its intended audience, children. After all, adults know it's rarely wise to punch the bully in the face, and that victory, if possible at all, must instead come through negotiation and compromise and persuasion and understanding and all that business. But for a child, the realisation that any bully, no matter how big, COULD be punched in the face (even if it's rarely a good idea in practice - and of course Lewis was writing with the assumption that his audience would be amply taught gentility and politeness like any good middle-class englishman of the era) is a powerful and liberating experience!
[A similar example, i'd say, is Dahl, whose villains are even more ridiculously villainous than Lewis'. Tolkien largely represents the other side of the argument, not just in that he takes pain to show how evil is the result of understandable human decisions, but also in that he deeply problematises the immediate, confrontational solution to evil. But then, Tolkien was writing for an older audience]
*I have to say, though, going by your one-line comment I think you've completely misread Tolkien. That behaviour - trying to fence off a safe and comprehensible world away from the dangerous world outside - is exactly what Tolkien militates against, and tries to display the futility of. But that's a longer argument for another day.
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I'm afraid, since the 'evil' itself was rather silly and undefined, that I found it did not actually demonstrate how evil might be overcome, but rather how a convenient cartoon evil might be overcome, which seems a rather trite and pointless lesson to give to children. The whole problem, at that point, is that Lewis is building up in the minds of those children an expectation of 'evil' that is oversimplified and self-justifying, which means the real lesson becomes 'you can overcome anything as long as you define it as evil'.
I do have some understanding of what Lewis was trying to get at, but I found the witch such a poor and stupid foil that it didn't actually require anything of the children to overcome her, it wasn't a case where their natural, in-born ability to sense morality allowed them to see through deception, instead the witch was just openly, self-defeatingly evil.
"When you're telling a story like that, you don't have to analyse why the bullies are being bullies - indeed, to a child, the seemingly motiveless spite is part of what a bully is."
I think that is explaining why bullies are bullies is definitely necessary in a story on how to overcome them--by understanding them. Telling a story that suggests children should just accept that 'bullies are bullies' and then oppose them doesn't sound like a very good message to me.
"So his books show how you don't need to be evil to be victorious, and how, even though evil is present in the world and may seem all-powerful, nonetheless it can be overcome."
Except, again, he isn't actually demonstrating that because his representation of evil doesn't make sense and isn't actually a threat. The evil is only defeated because in the first place, it is too stupid not to be, and in the second place, the kids have an all-powerful ally who does the work for them.
"But for a child, the realisation that any bully, no matter how big, COULD be punched in the face (even if it's rarely a good idea in practice - and of course Lewis was writing with the assumption that his audience would be amply taught gentility and politeness like any good middle-class englishman of the era) is a powerful and liberating experience!"
I think the promotion of that kind of thoughtless 'us against them' prejudice, and the power fantasy of victory by violence aren't particularly healthy notions--I also don't think it is a defense of a book to say 'well sure, the author's wrong, but he assumes that parents will teach their children the right way'. I prefer the author to do things properly to begin with.
"A similar example, i'd say, is Dahl, whose villains are even more ridiculously villainous than Lewis'."
Actually, I find Dahl's villains much more realistic than Lewis'--they tend to have personality and motivation, they aren't just silly shells, and they are often vividly characterized and genuinely unsettling, even to an adult reader.
"But that's a longer argument for another day."
And another review.
![Geoff](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1721087310p1/21465898.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
![Geoff](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1721087310p1/21465898.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
![Darren Hotmire](https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_25x33-ccd24e68f4773d33a41ce08c3a34892e.png)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
No, I haven't--and that wouldn't really change the strength of this book. After a half-dozen of his works, each as disappointing as the last, it is difficult not to doubt both his rhetoric and his grasp of philosophy. I mean, how much Lewis must I read before people stop suggesting I try one more, or one more essay?
Certainly, it is possible that those works are better written, or better thought out, but simply mentioning the titles is not going to convince me that they are worth it. If you cannot present some more intriguing case--some statement of why those books might be more valuable to me than a hundred other books I might read instead, I'm afraid your suggestions must remain rather empty.
Darren said: "This really is not an issue even worthy of debate . . . as obvious is your bias against the twentieth century western Judeo-Christian viewpoint, which no amount of good-read debate will influence"
Funny how those most dismissive of debate and unwilling to engage in it then try to use it as a proof of my 'unalterable bias'. The bias could just as easily be yours.
Lewis was hardly the totality of Twentieth Century Christian thought--which he admitted, himself, perhaps most famously after being bested in theological debate by Elizabeth Anscombe. I find Lewis' work weak on its own, not as some representation of a greater class of thought--indeed, I find his views as a Christian to be rather idiomatic and oddly Calvinistic at times.
![Geoff](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1721087310p1/21465898.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I mean, if one review says "This book sucks" and another says "This book sucks because it's just the word 'poodle' repeated over and over for three hundred pages", those are two different levels of opinion.
![Geoff](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1721087310p1/21465898.jpg)
![J.G. Keely](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1274333636p1/84023.jpg)
I read the book, maybe write down a few notes, then when I'm done, I write a review, usually in one sitting. Not sure exactly what you're looking for here.
"Every single review states the exact same thing. Wouldn't just be easier to copy and paste"
I'd suggest each review, while briefly covering some of the ssme ideas, then goes on to look in greater depth at some specific aspect not fully covered in my other reviews of his work. For instance, here I'm looking more directly at Lewis' Calvinist implications, whereas in TLTWaTW, I'm talking about the difficulties and conflicts of trying to write a truly good, highly powerful character, and Screwtape Letters, I talk about his habit of hypocritically condemning others while overlooking his own, similar faults.