Easily Lewis’s best work. This should be on the front shelves at everyChristian book store. Lewis frighteningly predicted the rise of the scientific, planning state. For those who laugh at “conspiracies” of the New World Order, read this book and tell me I am wrong. Try it. I’m waiting.
But unlike other books on the New World Order, Lewis advocates (or at least Dr Ransom does), fighting back. And not just fighting back with abstract ideas, but also with revolvers.
Lots of memorable moments: Ransom explains manliness and marriage, beards, and many other things. Shows how the planning state creates disasters in order to bring in their pre-arranged solution.
If more Christians who frequented Lifeway and other silly bookstores started reading this instead of that sick kid who toured heaven and then retracted it, things in America would be a lot different.
Some of the quotes are worth feasting on and take one to the highest realms of human artistic endeavor.
The Reason I am not Postmillennial
“Have you ever noticed,” said Dimble,” that the universe, and every little bit of the universe, is always hardening and narrowing and coming to a point?”
His wife waited as those wait who know by long experience the mental processes of the person who is talking to them.
“I mean this,” said Dimble, answering the question she had not asked. “If you dip into any college, or school, or parish, or family—anything you like—at a given point in its history, you always find that there was a time before that point when there was more elbow room and contrasts weren’t quite so sharp; and that there’s going to be a time after that point when there is even less room for indecision and choices are even more momentous. Good is always getting better and bad is always getting worse: the possibilities of even apparent neutrality are always diminishing.”
The Descent of the Gods (the following is one of the greatest moments in the English language)
It was fiery, sharp, bright, and ruthless, ready to kill, ready to die, outspeeding light : it was Charity, not as mortals imagine it, not even as it has been humanised for them since the Incarnation of the Word, but the virtue, fallen upon them direct from the Third
Heaven, unmitigated. They were blinded, scorched, deafened. They thought it would burn their bones. They could not bear that it should continue. They could not bear that it should cease. So Perelandra, triumphant among planets, whom men call Venus, came and was with them in the room.
Before the other angels a man might sink : before this he might die, but if he lived at all he would laugh. If you had caught one breath of the air that came from him, you would have felt yourself taller than before. Though you were a cripple, your walk would
have become stately : though a beggar, you would have worn your rags magnanimously. Kingship and power and festal pomp and courtesy shot from him as sparks fly
from an anvil. The ringing of bells, the blowing of trumpets, the spreading out of banners, are means used on earth to make a faint symbol of his quality. It was like a long
sunlit wave, creamy-crested and arched with emerald that comes on nine feet tall, with roaring and with terror and unquenchable laughter. It was like the first beginning
of music in the halls of some King so high and at some festival so solemn that a tremor akin to fear runs through young hearts when they hear it. For this was great Glund-
Oyarsa, King of Kings, through whom the joy of creation principally blows across these fields of Arbol, known to men in old times as Jove and under that name, by fatal but not inexplicable misprision, ^confused with his Maker — so little did they dream by how many degrees the stair even of created being rises above him.