The Space Trilogy
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TimmyofOz
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Thanks PotW, sorry I haven't been around much. I was out of town. I just don't know why Lewis made a point of highlighting those MacDonald books in THS. I am familiar with those stories and remember them to be dark stories. Of course we all know Mac Donald was important to Lewis. Ransom compares himself to the king in The Princess and Curdie, I guess. But as I remember the king in that book had to eat just bread and wine to prevent his lord chamberlain from poisoning him. In The Princess and Curdie the king is surrounded by enemies and is rescued. In THS Ransom is surrounded by friends and in an earlier book is seen as a savior.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Mr. Lewis also paid a tribute to his old atheist tutor Kirkpatrick in "That Hideous Strength." Different though Kirkpatrick and MacDonald were from each other, Mr. Lewis always retained a deep gratitude to each for what they had contributed to his intellectual growth.
Greensawmill
New member
The dialogue between Mark Studdock and Hingest at the end of chapter 3 of That Hideous Strength is now on my list of favorite Lewis quotes:
"I suppose there are two views about everything," said Mark.
"Eh? Two views? There are a dozen views about everything until you know the answer. Then there's never more than one."
I suppose in a way Mark Studdock is the Edmund of THS while Bill the Blizzard is a foil of Mr. Tumnus: a voice of wisdom in a world controlled by evil. Both Bill and Tumnus fall victim early on in their stories-- both events (Bill's murder and Tumnus' kidnapping and 'statuization') tend to take the tone to a more serious level as the magnitude of evil is unveiled.
"I suppose there are two views about everything," said Mark.
"Eh? Two views? There are a dozen views about everything until you know the answer. Then there's never more than one."
I suppose in a way Mark Studdock is the Edmund of THS while Bill the Blizzard is a foil of Mr. Tumnus: a voice of wisdom in a world controlled by evil. Both Bill and Tumnus fall victim early on in their stories-- both events (Bill's murder and Tumnus' kidnapping and 'statuization') tend to take the tone to a more serious level as the magnitude of evil is unveiled.
Right, I never thought about it that way. I also love that bit of dialog.
My heart just breaks for Mark at Belbury; he's like a little boy who wants so badly to be on the "inside," and he's just prey for those profoundly evil people, but he can't see it. He doesn't like them, but convinces himself they're the ones with the power, so he wants to be allied with them. His insecurity is endearing and pitiable ... probably because I relate so well to it. When his realization finally comes of what he is, and what he's done, he's just amazed by people like Dimble, and his own wife, who can be who they are, even recognizing their own faults, and not feel driven to achieve something or break through to some inner circle ... I love his character.
My heart just breaks for Mark at Belbury; he's like a little boy who wants so badly to be on the "inside," and he's just prey for those profoundly evil people, but he can't see it. He doesn't like them, but convinces himself they're the ones with the power, so he wants to be allied with them. His insecurity is endearing and pitiable ... probably because I relate so well to it. When his realization finally comes of what he is, and what he's done, he's just amazed by people like Dimble, and his own wife, who can be who they are, even recognizing their own faults, and not feel driven to achieve something or break through to some inner circle ... I love his character.
Well, Ink, I think that was part of the point - and the genius - of how Lewis wrote the story. We can all see a bit of Mark in ourselves; for that matter, we can all see a bit of Jane in ourselves. Yes, he is prey for the profoundly evil people, but in allowing himself to be drawn in and preyed upon, he becomes one of the profoundly evil people - or at least gets well along the way before he's rescued.
Many of the themes in Strength can be found in one of Lewis' essays called The Inner Ring, found in his collection The Weight of Glory. In that essay, Lewis points out that nobody starts out with the intention of becoming bad. Nobody gets up in the morning and says, "I think I'll do something really evil today." Yet some of us become evil, and Lewis explains that one of the ways this happens is by our trying to fit in, to belong, to "go along to get along". This acquiescence can cause us to go places and do things and accept circumstances that, if left to ourselves, we would not tolerate.
Lewis demonstrates this poetically in the character of Mark Studdock. Notice that even though he was in many way the victim, the dupe, the sap, he nevertheless participates in the evil. He willingly and knowingly takes part in a conspiracy to engineer a riot in order to facilitate an illegal seizure of power. He's privy to the scheming and machinations of the Belbury crew to overturn the laws of England and seize, effectively, dictatorial power. Had he even an ordinary moral sense, and a shred of backbone to strengthen it, he would have stormed out of Belbury and sounded the alarm about what was going on there. Instead he acquiesces and goes along, becoming corrupted in turn (Dr. Dimble's conversation with him in Dimble's chambers at college bring this out beautifully.)
It's tempting to look at Mark with a theraputic eye - poor lad, only wanting to fit in, pushed about and maniupulated by the Fairy and Wither and all. Part of Lewis' art is that he encourages that sympathy. But don't forget the self-revelation Mark has when he's locked in the cell at Belbury: he sees that he has trashed his whole life due to his own sinfulness. He, in his foolishness and vanity and pride, walked away from good friends and what he really loved in life to pursue emptiness. Yes, he's been manipulated, but ultimately the responsibility for his predicament rests with him. He truly reaped what he sowed. That's the point of the recognition and repentance in the cell. In the end he's not "cured" by overcoming his weaknesses and insecurities; he takes responsiblity for his sins, repents, and is (barely) saved from destruction.
Strength is a wonderful parable for us all in the nature of evil and the ways of corruption. It always starts out innocuous, trivial, some banality hardly worth bothering about. But it can end up in the Objective Room, or taking orders from a demon-possessed head, unless we obey the Moral Law and act with courage. That's what Mark needed to do, and that's what we need to do.
Many of the themes in Strength can be found in one of Lewis' essays called The Inner Ring, found in his collection The Weight of Glory. In that essay, Lewis points out that nobody starts out with the intention of becoming bad. Nobody gets up in the morning and says, "I think I'll do something really evil today." Yet some of us become evil, and Lewis explains that one of the ways this happens is by our trying to fit in, to belong, to "go along to get along". This acquiescence can cause us to go places and do things and accept circumstances that, if left to ourselves, we would not tolerate.
Lewis demonstrates this poetically in the character of Mark Studdock. Notice that even though he was in many way the victim, the dupe, the sap, he nevertheless participates in the evil. He willingly and knowingly takes part in a conspiracy to engineer a riot in order to facilitate an illegal seizure of power. He's privy to the scheming and machinations of the Belbury crew to overturn the laws of England and seize, effectively, dictatorial power. Had he even an ordinary moral sense, and a shred of backbone to strengthen it, he would have stormed out of Belbury and sounded the alarm about what was going on there. Instead he acquiesces and goes along, becoming corrupted in turn (Dr. Dimble's conversation with him in Dimble's chambers at college bring this out beautifully.)
It's tempting to look at Mark with a theraputic eye - poor lad, only wanting to fit in, pushed about and maniupulated by the Fairy and Wither and all. Part of Lewis' art is that he encourages that sympathy. But don't forget the self-revelation Mark has when he's locked in the cell at Belbury: he sees that he has trashed his whole life due to his own sinfulness. He, in his foolishness and vanity and pride, walked away from good friends and what he really loved in life to pursue emptiness. Yes, he's been manipulated, but ultimately the responsibility for his predicament rests with him. He truly reaped what he sowed. That's the point of the recognition and repentance in the cell. In the end he's not "cured" by overcoming his weaknesses and insecurities; he takes responsiblity for his sins, repents, and is (barely) saved from destruction.
Strength is a wonderful parable for us all in the nature of evil and the ways of corruption. It always starts out innocuous, trivial, some banality hardly worth bothering about. But it can end up in the Objective Room, or taking orders from a demon-possessed head, unless we obey the Moral Law and act with courage. That's what Mark needed to do, and that's what we need to do.
Copperfox
Well-known member
One of the worst pitfalls modern people fall into is the habit of saying, "We just need to GROW." Putting everything in terms of "growth" means assuming that we are all headed in the right DIRECTION already, we just need to go farther in that direction. Which explains the supposedly-clever bumper sticker I saw the other day: "Instead Of Being Born Again, Why Not Just Grow Up?"
As Prince explains, however, Mark Studdock did NOT merely need to "grow" in the same direction he was moving anyway. He needed to humble himself and REJECT the things he had been pursuing. If he had NEVER come to repentance, and if the N.I.C.E. had succeeded for a time and then been defeated in some kind of regular human war, a captured Mark Studdock would afterwards have resorted to the classic excuse: "I vass chust obeyink orderss!"
Neither divine nor human justice would have been deceived. But human soft-headedness CAN be deceived.
As Prince explains, however, Mark Studdock did NOT merely need to "grow" in the same direction he was moving anyway. He needed to humble himself and REJECT the things he had been pursuing. If he had NEVER come to repentance, and if the N.I.C.E. had succeeded for a time and then been defeated in some kind of regular human war, a captured Mark Studdock would afterwards have resorted to the classic excuse: "I vass chust obeyink orderss!"
Neither divine nor human justice would have been deceived. But human soft-headedness CAN be deceived.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Yes, and I like the sort of anticlimax, when the big insectlike monster turns out to be harmless.
But still, that was a point Lewis was trying to make: the big insectlike creature was only ominous and frightening because of the fear which Ransom, a fallen human (who also happened to be under attack), projected onto it. Once the attack was gone and his mind was clear, he could see that it was just a creature of a different form, and neither repulsive nor threatening.
He got a similar version of this on Malacandra, when he had to adjust to the hrossa, seroni,, and pfiffiltriggi.
He got a similar version of this on Malacandra, when he had to adjust to the hrossa, seroni,, and pfiffiltriggi.
Greensawmill
New member
What made my skin crawl in Perelandra was the smile the Un-man gave Ransom as he was torturing frogs.
Welcome Faleel, hope you enjoy Narniafans.
Here is another excellent Lewis quote, from Perelandra:
"Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement. There is a chattering part of the mind which continues, until it is corrected, to chatter on even in the holiest places."
Oh my goodness, I felt quite the same way! That is one of the most terrifying sequences to me, Ransom's finding the injured frogs and not understanding what they are, then trying to kill one to put it out of its misery and making it worse, then discovering Weston with that dumb joy in his face ... oh, nightmarish!
I love that sequence, too, of Mark's realizing that what he is doing is illegal and wrong ... but then he imagines himself as an old man with a peerage talking about, "It was a rum go back in those days ..." and the moment of his decision (to do evil) passes him by without a second thought. He doesn't even realize how he has become one of the profoundly evil people who have him in their grasp.PoTW said:
His realization of his own pitiful state -- that those awful people didn't even want him for him, but just to get at Jane ... that he was a fool and a sinner ... that's another reason I love his character. He faces the facts. How many of us would push those horrible facts away from us, because facing them would tear up the very fabric of the life we've built? Better to ignore it and go on pretending we've made something pretty ... Poor Mark. In the end he behaves as bravely as he can, and I respect it.
Greensawmill
New member
It about made me crazy just in the reading of that part. Lewis carefully points out some of the tactics of the "Enemy" in the Space Trilogy just as he does in The Screwtape Letters and this is one of them-- monotony. Some disturbing music has a strong, repetitive beat that seems to dull thinking and reasoning, maybe similar to the "Nothing" method.
Another related tactic I think he points out was the Un-man's constant need for attention... he could never just sit still and be at peace, nor would he ever let anyone around him sit in silence without obscenities, facial expressions, tearing up the grass, or endless empty chatter. Perhaps in an effort to prevent the application of scriptures such as Psalm 46:10 Be still, and know that I am God or Habakkuk 2:20 But the Lord is in his holy temple: Let all the earth keep silence before him.
Weston/Unman was such a memorable villain because he seemed at once to be very devious, and very dull. Those long-winded stories he told to make the Queen think that she needed to be heroic and undertake a difficult task that might put her afoul of her husband and Maleldil; that was a very mind-tricking, devious plot that required some subtlety. Then his stupid "Ransom? What? Nothing?" game was monotonous and dull, and his greatest delight seemed to be in brutish, wanton destruction. Through all it seemed as if evil can be deceptive, subtle, intellectual if pressed, but at its heart, in its preferred state, is brutal and stupid. Quite an interesting look at the devil.
Greensawmill
New member
I just finished reading The Inner Ring and really enjoyed it, giving me an additional layer of understanding into Strength. It seems like both Abolition of Man and The Inner Ring were fictionalized together into Strength.
I think that it's more that once Ransom assumed the office of Pendragon, he also assumed a throne name. To those under his authority, he was known as "the Director", but to those outside, he was known as "Mr. Fisher-King". That last is a clear allusion to the figure in Arthurian legend.
Ransom is identified as himself clearly in a couple places in Strength - once by MacPhee during his talk with Jane, and briefly at Belbury when Wither makes a chilling statement that if the NICE crew could find him, they'd take him into custody swiftly.
Ransom is identified as himself clearly in a couple places in Strength - once by MacPhee during his talk with Jane, and briefly at Belbury when Wither makes a chilling statement that if the NICE crew could find him, they'd take him into custody swiftly.