C. S. Lewis

Home > Other > C. S. Lewis > Page 14
C. S. Lewis Page 14

by Roger Lancelyn Green


  He remains victor in that debate. It is I who have come round. The thing is symbolical of much in our joint history. He was not a clever boy, he was even a dull boy; I was a scholar. He had no ‘ideas’. I bubbled over with them. It might seem that I had much to give him and that he had nothing to give me. But this is not the truth. I could give concepts, logic, facts, arguments, but he had feelings to offer, feelings which most mysteriously – for he was always very inarticulate – he taught me to share. Hence, in our commerce, I dealt in superficies, but he in solids. I learned charity from him but failed, for all my efforts, to teach him arrogance in return.65

  Meanwhile plans for the future were going ahead. Warnie was to join the Lewis – Moore set-up, but a bigger house must be found, and now there might be sufficient money to purchase a definite home of their own, if Little Lea sold well enough.

  Warnie’s service abroad ended in March. He reached England on 16 April 1930 and went straight to London where his brother met him, taking him back to Oxford and then down to Bournemouth where the family holiday was in progress. Later in the month they went over to Belfast to continue sorting out the accumulation of years at Little Lea, selecting what books and furniture to keep, and arranging for the sale of the rest. They had already decided what to do with all the toys that had been the foundation and background to the world of Boxen and its literature, and Jack had written to Warnie on 12 January 1930:

  I should not like to make an exception even in favour of Benjamin. After all, these characters (like all others) can, in the long run, live only in ‘the literature of the period’, and I fancy that when we look at the actual toys again (a process from which I anticipate no pleasure at all) we shall find the discrepancy between the symbol … and the character rather acute. No, Brother. The toys in the trunk are quite plainly corpses. We will resolve them into their elements, as nature will do to us.66

  Like the children at the end of Kenneth Grahame’s Dream Days, ‘we took turn about in digging a hole in the vegetable garden in which to put our toys’, recorded Warnie in his diary on 23 April 1930, ‘and then carried the old attic trunk down and buried them. What struck me most was the scantiness of the material out of which that remarkable imaginary world was constructed. By tacit mutual consent the boxes of characters were buried unopened.’67

  Warnie was posted to Bulford on Salisbury Plain in mid-May, but was able to get leave early in June to superintend the final sale of Little Lea, which he left for the last time on 3 June. But little more than a fortnight later their combined house-hunting on the outskirts of Oxford led them to The Kilns, Headington Quarry, which was to be their home for the rest of their lives – and which would become by the end, thirty-three years later, much dearer to Jack who was to know there his greatest happiness and his greatest sorrow near the end of his life.

  On 7 July 1930 Warnie wrote in his diary that on the previous morning

  Jack and I went out and saw the place, and I instantly caught the infection. We did not go inside the house, but the eight-acre garden is such stuff as dreams are made on. I never imagined that for us any such garden would ever come within the sphere of discussion. The house (which has two more rooms than Hillsboro) stands at the entrance to its own grounds at the northern foot of Shotover at the end of a narrow lane, which in turn opens off a very bad and little-used road, giving as great privacy as can be reasonably looked for near a large town. To the left of the house are the two brick kilns from which it takes its name – in front, a lawn and hard tennis court – then a large bathing pool, beautifully wooded, and with a delightful circular brick seat overlooking it. After that a steep wilderness broken with ravines and nooks of all kinds runs up to a little cliff topped by a thistly meadow, and then the property ends in a thick belt of fir trees, almost a wood. The view from the cliff over the dim blue distance is simply glorious.68

  The pool or ‘lake’ in the woods they soon discovered ‘has quite distinguished literary associations, being known locally as “Shelley’s Pool”, and there is a tradition that Shelley used to meditate there’.69

  This ideal little estate was duly purchased that July for £3,300, and £200 more set aside for building on two additional rooms – one of which became the new ‘little end room’. The remainder of the lease of Hillsboro was sold fairly satisfactorily in August, and the Lewis brothers, with Mrs Moore and Maureen, and Mr Papworth the dog, moved into The Kilns on 11 October 1930.

  Shortage of money unfortunately prevented them from buying the adjoining field for £300, and a few years later an unsightly row of small houses was built on it. The rest of the Kilns environment, however, remained in almost unspoilt beauty until after Lewis’s death, though by then the area at the end of their lane, in a square from the bypass to the London road, was a solid block of development, joining on to the suburbs of Oxford.*

  * * *

  * Dr John Hawkins Askins (1877–1923) – ‘the Doc.’ – was Mrs Moore’s brother. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, where he obtained his Bachelor of Medicine in 1904. During the First World War he served in the Royal Army Medical Corps, and he was wounded in 1917. His health seems to have been broken by the war. He was married to the former Mary Emmet Goldsborough, and they had one child, Peony. About 1922 they moved to Iffley, just outside Oxford, to be near Mrs Moore. Lewis was writing about Dr Askins in Chapter 13 of Surprised by Joy where he said he spent ‘fourteen days, and most of fourteen nights as well, in close contact with a man who was going mad … And this man, as I well knew, had not kept the beaten track. He had flirted with Theosophy, Yoga, Spiritualism, Psychoanalysis, what not?’

  * Sir Michael Ernest Sadler (1861–1943), educational pioneer and patron of the arts, read Classics at Trinity College, Oxford. He was Professor of Education at the University of Manchester, 1903–11, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Leeds, 1911–23, and Master of University College, 1923–34.

  * Herbert David Ziman (1902–83) took a Second in Greats and received his BA from University College in 1924. He was leader-writer for the Daily Telegraph, 1934–9, and literary editor, 1956–68.

  † All these pupils were reading Greats at University College. Robert Remington Ware, George Lawrence Capel Touche, and John Hill Mackintosh Dawson took their BAs in 1925.

  † Frederick Henry Lawson (1897–1983), academic lawyer, was Lecturer in Law at University College, 1924–5, at Christ Church, 1925–6, Junior Research Fellow of Merton College, 1925–30, and official Fellow and Tutor in Law, 1930–48. Lawson was Professor of Law and a Fellow of Brasenose College, 1948–64.

  § David Lindsay Keir (1895–1973) was a Fellow of New College, Oxford, 1921–39, President and Vice-Chancellor of Queen’s College, Belfast, 1939–49, and Master of Balliol College, 1949–65.

  * John Norman Bryson (1896–1976) was born in Belfast and educated at the Queen’s University, Belfast and Merton College. He was a lecturer in English at Balliol, Merton, and Oriel Colleges, 1923–40, and Fellow and Tutor in English at Balliol College, 1940–63.

  † ‘For five years’ was a mere matter of form. Re-election was almost certain, provided the Fellow fulfilled his duties satisfactorily.

  * The favourite walk of the essayist and poet, Joseph Addison (1672–1719). When he was a Fellow of Magdalen, living in New Buildings, he greatly enjoyed the walk that runs northward from the College buildings. On 13 May 1998 a stone tablet was erected in Addison’s Walk to mark the centenary of Lewis’s birth. On it is inscribed Lewis’s poem about the walk – ‘What the Bird Said Early in the Year’ – which can be found in The Collected Poems of C.S. Lewis.

  * (Sir) John Betjeman (1906–84), Poet Laureate, was Lewis’s first pupil in Magdalen. He would not work, and in the end he failed the University’s Divinity examination and left Oxford without a degree. At first he blamed Lewis for not supporting him, and in some of his poems Lewis is made a figure of fun. However, in time Betjeman admitted that he was himself to blame for his troubles. He was a devoted member of the Church of Engla
nd. His many volumes of poems include Ghastly Good Taste (1933), Old Lights for New Chancels (1940) and A Few Late Chrysanthemums (1954).

  * Walter de la Mare (1873–1956), poet and novelist. His Songs of Childhood (1902) was followed by a large output of poems, novels and other books. Among his best known are The Return (1910), Peacock Pie (1913) and Behold the Dreamer (1939).

  † Alfred Leslie Rowse (1903–97), poet, biographer and historian, was born in Cornwall and was educated at Christ Church, Oxford.

  † William Francis Ross Hardie (1902–90), educated at Balliol College, was the Fellow of Philosophy at Magdalen College in 1925, Fellow and Tutor in Philosophy at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, 1926–50, and President of Corpus Christi College, 1950–69.

  * Lascelles Abercrombie (1881–1938), poet and critic, was educated at Malvern College. He was Professor of English Literature at the University of Leeds, 1922–9, the University of London, 1929–35, and Goldsmith’s Reader at Oxford, 1935–8. The works of this distinguished ‘metaphysical poet’ include Mary and the Bramble (1910) and The Sale of St Thomas (1931).

  † Thomas Stearns Eliot (1888–1965), poet, playwright, critic and publisher, was born in St Louis, Missouri and educated at Harvard. He intended to be a philosopher, and he spent 1914–15 at Merton College, Oxford on a fellowship. After meeting Ezra Pound he decided to become a poet and he settled in England. In 1925 he became a director of the publishing firm Faber & Gwyer (later Faber & Faber), and in 1927 was baptized in the Church of England. His poems include Prufrock and Other Observations (1917), Poems (1919) and Four Quartets (1935–42). In 1922 he founded a review entitled The Criterion, the first volume of which contained The Waste Land, the poem that established him as the voice of a disillusioned generation. Lewis feared the effect of his verse on modern poetry, and he never liked Eliot’s poetry or criticism. Years later, however, when they were brought together to work on a revision of the Psalter, Lewis came to like him very much. See his biography in CG.

  * Henry Vincent Yorke (1905–73), who wrote under the name ‘Henry Green’, is considered one of the most original prose writers of his generation. He was educated at Eton and Magdalen College, and worked for a while in the family business in London. His first novel, Blindness (1926), was begun while he was still at Eton. His other novels include Party Going (1939), and Caught (1943). He wrote an autobiographical work, Pack My Bag (1940).

  † ‘limit’. More had been arguing for a return to Christian Humanism as exemplified by limit and order – an idea which Eliot’s Waste Land explodes by its repeated emphasis on chaos.

  * John Hanbury Angus Sparrow (1906–92) was educated at Winchester College and New College, Oxford. He took a first in Classical Honour Moderations in 1927, and a first in Literae Humaniores in 1929. He was elected a Fellow of All Souls College in 1929, was called to the Bar in 1931. During the Second World War he served in the Coldstream Guards and the War Office, after which he resumed his practice at the Bar. He was Warden of All Souls College, 1952–77.

  † Louis MacNeice (1907–63), poet and critic, was born in Belfast, but he lived in Carrickfergus 1908–31 when his father was rector of the church there. He was educated at Marlborough and Merton College. His works include Blind Fireworks (1930), Poems (1935), The Earth Compels (1938), Springboard (1940) and Visitations (1957).

  * Walter Ogilvie ‘Wof’ Field (1893–1957) came up to Trinity College, Oxford, from Marlborough College in 1912. He left to join the Warwickshire Rifle Regiment in 1914, was promoted to captain in 1916, and after seeing action in France and Italy was wounded and forced to retire. In 1926 he became a teacher at the Rudolf Steiner School in Forest Row, East Sussex.

  * I.e. Middle English.

  * Neil Ripley Ker (1908–82), palaeographer, was born in London. He matriculated at Magdalen College in 1927, intending to read Philosophy, Politics and Economics. Lewis, however, persuaded him to turn to English Literature, and he obtained a Second Class Honours degree in 1931. Even as an undergraduate his antiquarian interests were pronounced, and this led him to the Bodleian to examine the manuscript copies of the texts he was studying. He began giving classes in Palaeography in 1936, and in 1941 he was appointed Lecturer in Palaeography. In 1945 he was elected a Fellow of Magdalen College, and in 1946 he was appointed Reader in Palaeography. He brought to the study acute powers of observation, and published a number of important catalogues of manuscripts.

  * The Kilns was bought with the understanding that it would be the Lewis brothers’ home for as long as they lived, after which it would go to Mrs Moore’s daughter, Maureen. On the death of his brother, Warnie feared it would be too expensive to live there. He put it up for rent, and moved to a smaller house in nearby Ringwood Road where he lived 1964–7. As he did not expect to return to The Kilns, he gave Maureen permission to build some houses on what had been the orchard. In May 1967 Warnie moved back to The Kilns, but by this time the rustic beauty of the place had been spoiled by the houses built around it. In 1969 the woodlands and the pond to the north of the house were acquired by the Berkshire, Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire Naturalists Trust and made into the Henry Stephen/C.S. Lewis Nature Reserve. Following Warnie’s death in 1973, The Kilns changed hands several times. In 1984 it was acquired by the C.S. Lewis Foundation who have restored it.

  NOTES

  1 AMR, entry for 13–25 July, p. 258.

  2 Ibid., entry for 17–25 March 1924, p. 306.

  3 FL, pp. 605–6.

  4 AMR, p. 265.

  5 Ibid., p. 267.

  6 LP VIII, p. 156.

  7 FL, p. 615.

  8 AMR, p. 279n.

  9 Ibid., p. 293.

  10 Collected Poems, p. 243.

  11 AMR, entry for 21–4 June 1924, p. 336.

  12 Ibid., p. 342.

  13 Ibid., p. 343.

  14 FL, p. 635.

  15 AMR, p. 351.

  16 Ibid., entry for 10 February 1925, p. 350.

  17 Ibid., pp. 350–1.

  18 FL, p. 637.

  19 Ibid., letter of April 1925, p. 640.

  20 FL, p. 648.

  21 Ibid.

  22 LP IX, p. 29.

  23 FL, pp. 650–1.

  24 AMR, entry for 5 February 1927, p. 447.

  25 FL, pp. 654–5.

  26 Ibid., p. 660.

  27 Ibid., pp. 661–2.

  28 AMR, entry for 5 May 1926, p. 387.

  29 Ibid., entry for 10 May 1926, p. 391.

  30 FL, pp. 667–8.

  31 AMR, p. 393.

  32 FL, p. 838.

  33 AMR, entry for 10 June 1926, p. 410.

  34 This letter is among Paul Elmer More’s papers in the Rare Book Room, Firestone Library, Princeton University.

  35 AMR, entry for 6 July 1926, p. 422.

  36 Sunday Times (19 September 1926), p. 9.

  37 AMR, pp. 431–2.

  38 Ibid., p. 449.

  39 SBJ, ch. 15, p. 181.

  40 AMR, entry for 1 March 1927, p. 456.

  41 Ibid., p. 437.

  42 Ibid., entry for 1 May 1926, p. 383.

  43 LP IX, p. 170.

  44 For a full account of this see FL, pp. 687–93.

  45 Ibid., p. 713.

  46 Ibid., p. 716.

  47 LP IX, p. 276.

  48 AMR, p. 448.

  49 FL, p. 701.

  50 LP IX, p. 289.

  51 The Encyclopaedia is included in Boxen, pp. 196–206.

  52 LP IX, pp. 291–300.

  53 FL, pp. 735–6.

  54 Ibid., p. 738.

  55 Li Fablel dou Dieu d’Amours, ed. Achille Jubinal (1834), CXII, p. 31.

  56 FL, p. 754.

  57 Ibid., pp. 766–7.

  58 Chad Walsh, C.S. Lewis: Apostle to the Skeptics (1949), p. 16.

  59 FL, p. 799.

  60 Ibid., p. 806.

  61 Ibid., p. 823.

  62 Ibid., p. 837.

  63 Ibid., p. 850.

  64 Ibid., pp. 853–4.

  65 Ibid., Biographical Appendix, p
p. 994–5.

  66 Ibid., p. 866.

  67 BF, p. 39.

  68 Ibid., p. 58.

  69 Ibid., p. 67.

  4

  CONVERSION

  After all his anxiety over finding a suitable home, it is ironic that Lewis now had a far more pressing matter on his mind than moving into The Kilns. He had been fighting for years to keep God at bay and the purchase of The Kilns almost coincided with the end of this struggle. The fullest account of how this was resolved he was later to tell in Surprised by Joy, but to fit it into perspective, we must move back a few years.

  It was shortly after he had taken his finals in the English School that Lewis arrived at what he called his ‘New Look’, which involved the belief that ‘the Christian myth’ – as he called it – conveyed as much truth as most minds are able to grasp. The pleasant thing about this belief was that there was nothing to fear and – better yet – nothing to obey. Then, in 1924, while he was deputizing for E.F. Carritt at Univ., a number of things began to unsettle this comfortable ‘New Look’. A rereading of Euripides’ Hippolytus, with its world’s end imagery, threw him again into the state of intense longing, the old ‘Joy’ that he had not experienced in years. Shortly afterwards he read Samuel Alexander’s Space, Time and Deity (1920) and found there a distinction between ‘enjoyment’ and ‘contemplation’ which was thereafter to play a very important part in his intellectual make-up. According to Alexander, you ‘enjoy’ the act of thinking and ‘contemplate’ whatever it is you are thinking about. For example, ‘You cannot hope and also think about hoping at the same moment; for in hope we look to hope’s object and we interrupt this by (so to speak) turning round to look at the hope itself. Of course the two activities can and do alternate with great rapidity; but they are distinct and incompatible.’1

  Applying this distinction, Lewis discovered that the essential property of, say, love, is attention to the beloved. To think about not the beloved but loving itself is to ‘enjoy’ your own thoughts and to cease attending to the object of those thoughts. Thus, if we try to look ‘inside ourselves’ and watch what is going on, nearly everything that was going on before we looked is stopped. There broke upon Lewis the realization that his watching for Joy to come along had been an unconscious attempt to ‘contemplate the enjoyed’.2 Even Joy, he now saw, was not an end in itself, but a reminder or pointer to something else – something far more desirable than the sensations and images which accompany it.

 

‹ Prev