'Till We Have Faces, Part I

I am old now and have not much to fear
from the anger of gods.
Orual

And so begins what many critics considered to be that last great literary achievement by a man who considered himself a dinosaur of sorts. The quote is from Clive Staples (C.S.) Lewis taken from his book Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold.

As the title suggests Lewis did what many medieval writers of the past had done. He [re]told a story. His genius of re-telling is comparable to what Geoffrey Chaucer had done with the Canterbury Tales from Boccaccio’s Decameron. Lewis, like Chaucer before him, understood the function of a story and to retell it made it all the more original.

This of course is a medieval concept, however, one that Lewis delivers quite well. Lewis’ objective was to reshape and possibly present a different view of a known, pagan fable. In doing so he fashioned a story unlike the original. In fact, he made the story a Lewis story.

The story itself is a tale between two earthly princesses-one attractive (Psyche) and the other, for lack of a better term, ugly (Orual). The tale interweaves a pre-Christian era involving pagan worship and themes of love, selfish desire, and as Lewis himself thought, “a work of (supposed) historical imagination.” The story includes the pagan god of love Cupid, son of Venus, the goddess of love and beauty.

As a Christian apologist Lewis was no stranger to myth lore and other pagan forms of religious rhetoric. In fact, it was because of his ability to embrace pagan allusion without letting it interfere with his faith that made him such a strong advocate for the Christian religion to begin with. John Ronald Reuel (J.R.R.) Tolkien noticed this ability in Lewis and assisted in his appointment as Chair for English & Medieval Renaissance Literature at Cambridge University. Their relationship would wane over the years, and this, due to the fact that Tolkien did not appreciate Lewis’ overt Christian rhetoric in his works.

Lewis believed that every good man or woman was a type or a like of Christ. In his own words he describes his character Psyche as existing as “an instance of the anima naturaliter Christiana making the best of the Pagan religion she is brought up in.” Moreover, Lewis exclaims that “she is in some ways like Christ because every good man or woman is like Christ.” It is this “like Christ” in conjunction with the title of his book “Till We Have Faces” that intrigues and upholds the reader’s imagination. It is possible to read through the book unchanged, but it is not possible to read through the tale unchallenged. Lewis does not leave room for that, and I suppose, in a suggestive sense, the response to this challenge is a type or supporter of change.

What follows is a close look, in two parts, at what allusions may have been circling the mind of Jack Lewis and what per se these ideas may reveal about our present culture. I would be doing the former Cambridge don a disservice if I did not mention that he himself viewed the subject of love in his book as motive for the actions of man, woman, and yes, even the gods, whom it would appear Lewis did not think were crazy. His final thoughts on love and the age of love I believe motivated a response from his curious mind and encouraged him to write what originally was titled Bareface. Lewis took the transmitted story from Lucius Apuleius Platonicus’ Metamorphoses (sometimes called The Golden Ass) and created something that was original in its retelling. It was a re-creation of collected words interweaved and birthed into a new view of the old world where “love is too young to know what conscience is.”

The story of Psyche and Cupid is one of love, deception, and ultimately tragedy. It begins with the birth of three beautiful daughters to a king and queen. The youngest was the most beautiful in face and bodily appearance. Her beauty it was told rivaled that of even Venus herself, to which the goddess did not take kindly to. Venus’ jealousy stirred her to call upon her son, Cupid. The young god was told to wound Psyche with his arrows and make her fall in love with some degraded creature. Cupid, winged with his arrows and maternal obedience, flew toward Psyche with intent on destroying her life. Cupid upon noticing for the first time Psyche’s beauty was also struck as it were by the very arrow of love that afflicted many a mortal. He instantly loved Psyche and took her away to a palace where he was to remain a hidden husband to Psyche.

What is more, the story incorporates the jealousy of the two other sisters who were married off to lesser matches and who wanted to know what became of their sister. Upon finding their sister, Psyche shows them her palace and her wealth, but to the gods’ warning that nothing good can come of it. This foreshadowing proves only too true as the sisters poison Psyche’s mind to betray her husband. Psyche is told to take a lamp and let the light from the lamp illuminate who her husband really is. Armed with a knife Psyche follows through on this plan, but upon looking on her husband she does not recoil in fear, but is completely enamored with the beauty and magnificence of the young god of love. Psyche, in holding the lamp, mistakenly lets a drop of hot oil fall on the unblemished, white and radiant ambrosia-like skin of Cupid. He immediately senses his discovery and departs! Psyche is then left to wallow in her grief and roam about half-crazed, a result stemming from her disobedience. Suffice it to mention that this portion of the story concerning Psyche and Cupid is what Lewis “improved” upon. The characters are the same but it is set, as one critic put it, “against the backdrop of Glome, a barbaric, pre-Christian world.” Lewis utilized the absence of a Christian world to paint the very vivid presence of Christ, or archetypal Christ.

This characterization involves Psyche. On the one hand the tale depicts sacred love and on the other a love that is profane, tarnished, and tainted. This love develops into a selfish desire and need and we are made aware of its troubling effects. In fact, Psyche will be “killed” for it. Though Lewis enjoyed utilizing the topos of allegory I do not believe he is symbolizing any of his characters throughout [t]his tale. In criticizing his own work he is quick to admit that “an author doesn’t necessarily understand the meaning of his own story better than anyone else,” however he plainly admits that Orual “is (not a symbol) but an instance.” Lewis explains that she is “a ‘case’ of human affection in its natural condition, true, tender, suffering, but in the long run tyrannically possessive and ready to turn to hatred when the beloved ceases to be its possession.” The beloved here of course is the younger sister, Psyche.

What can misalign love tell us exactly? How is this helpful to the reader? Recall, Lewis by this time had a huge following and his works were already in circulation. At a glance is Mere Christianity, Allegory of Love, Pilgrim’s Regress, and of course The Chronicles of Narnia. The latter bringing him much acclaim to both youthful and aged audiences alike. Why then do critics place Till We Have Faces as one of his, if not the most, monumental, literary achievement? I believe the answer may lie in the possibility that all of his faculties are at work here! Lewis himself acknowledged that this book, among his other written projects, was his greatest achievement. Again, the question is raised with regards to his use of pagan allusion embedded in myth lore. Why not adhere to your Christian audience and retell a pagan story that clearly labels the Christian and the pagan; the absolute good and the bad; the acknowledgement of societal culpabilis, sin and transgression and the reward and blessing for honoring the one true God? Though all pertinent questions—Lewis, arguably, addressed them all by adhering to the style of a pagan myth. Perhaps then, the undercurrent message here is “as Christians we are called to be in the world, but not of the world.” A challenge indeed, some more than others, but a challenge nonetheless. Think of the audience Lewis is reaching with such a book. By placing Psyche in a type of Christ role she is then given an ability to “see.” Lewis brilliantly takes the pagan notion of an invisible palace and retells it in the vein of a “seen palace.” The one who is without sight is also the one without understanding and without a face, hence Till We Have Faces.

Who then understands the infinite? Who then can make sense of those who now can see? Perhaps, Asaph can shed some light on the matter. It is understood that David wrote many psalms in the canonical collection or Book of Psalms, and yet the Book of Psalms contains many authors. For example, Moses, Asaph, and even Solomon all wrote psalms. One psalm in particular, Psalm 82, suggests some similar things to which I believe Lewis is alluding to. The text reads as follows:

Psalm 82
5 "They know nothing, they understand nothing.
They walk about in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.

6 "I said, 'You are "gods";
you are all sons of the Most High.'
7 But you will die like mere men;
you will fall like every other ruler."

Now compare such a sentiment to a section of Lewis’ narrative where Orual is asking Bardia, a guardsman for some explanation to Psyche’s supposed madness:

“Bardia, what kind of a lover must this be who forbids his bride to see his face?”

To which in reply the prudent soldier responds:

“I should say-speaking as mortal, and likely enough the gods know better-I should say
it was one whose face and form would give her littler pleasure if she saw them.”

At one point the psalmist Asaph taps into a disturbing and very Christian idea; i.e., “you are gods” and that “you are all sons of the Most High.” Can it be both? On a second note Bardia, one steeped in the Glome, pagan culture replies to Orual’s inquiry with a hesitant, but sufficient reply with regards to the god of love. That is, “the gods know better.” I believe Lewis’ genius is materializing rapidly here. He has incorporated a pagan notion and made it Christian. How? Well, first notice that Asaph sets up the idea or allusion of “gods” and “sons” existing together, and possibly exist as one and the same. Lewis provides the “gods” with a “knowing” that excludes or rather goes beyond. Beyond whom? At least beyond Bardia and Orual, both type cast their estate-one, a cast-off princess and embodiment of a crumbling earthly royalism, and the other, a defender of a pagan culture that is nothing more than loose code and superficial, and to some extent syncretic ritual.

Nonetheless, Lewis taps into an interesting concept here. The idea that knowing exists outside of seeing is a Christian concept. In other words ones epistemology, albeit steeped in one’s ontology, is pursued without tangible reason. After all, the saint can no more see Christ than you or I can see the splitting of atoms with the naked eye, and yet there is a certainty in knowing that they exist, no. Recall, it was Christ who rebuked Thomas for unbelief linked to his sight. Likewise, Lewis may be suggesting that a similar idea exists with Orual as well as Asaph’s intended audience (ultimately the audience is us because scripture is God-breathed). The idea of the unknown has always presented a kind of fear to mankind, and Lewis plays off of this, sometimes a medieval concept, but a prevalent notion regardless by today’s reckoning. How exactly does Lewis unleash his fear, and what it [fear] displays may actually question whether we see the face[s] at all. These are not the faces on the outside of our bodies, but quite possibly the existing reflections from within them.

Further, Lewis’ turning point for his tale comes from Orual after she “sees” Psyche. Psyche, still beautiful appears to be in tattered rags in the middle of nowhere, and though Orual briefly sees the much-talked about palace, it is her unbelief that is her undoing as the “vision” quickly fades and her eyes resume that natural vision for the Glome, albeit an Old English allusion to eorðan, or earth[ly], world-view. I mentioned earlier that this short essay would incorporate an analysis on Lewis’ Till We Have Faces and how the tale holds up for today’s readership. This will continue in the next installment. For now I leave you with a thought from Glome and a psalm:

“Oh Orual” she said, “not even I have seen him-yet. He comes to
me only in the holy darkness. He says I mustn’t-not yet-see his
face or know his name. I’m forbidden to bring any light into his-
our-chamber.”

Psalm 97
6 The heavens proclaim his righteousness,
and all the peoples see his glory.

7 All who worship images are put to shame,
those who boast in idols-
worship him, all you gods!

**Here ends part I**