We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Gopnik in The New Yorker takes a fresh look at the complicated life of the beloved (at least in the US) story-teller, medieval literature scholar, and Christian apologist extraordinaire:
"The two Lewises—the British bleeding don and the complacent American saint—do a kind of battle in the imagination of those who care as much about Narnia as they do about its author. Is Narnia a place of Christian faith or a place to get away from it? As one reads the enormous literature on Lewis’s life and thought—there are at least five biographies, and now a complete, three-volume set of his letters—the picture that emerges is of a very odd kind of fantasist and a very odd kind of Christian. The hidden truth that his faith was really of a fable-first kind kept his writing forever in tension between his desire to imagine and his responsibility to dogmatize. His works are a record of a restless, intelligent man, pacing a cell of his own invention and staring through the barred windows at the stars beyond. That the door was open all the time, and that he held the key in his pocket, was something he discovered only at the end."
Was he a prig, a sensualist, a saint, or a mensch? A fantasist constricted by dogma? An everyday neurotic, mixed-up writer? I'd guess the latter. Read the whole thing if you are at all interested in this brilliant and fascinating fellow who was transformed by earthly love, and then loss, late in his life.
A brief bio of Lewis here. There are lots of C.S. Lewis websites. Here's one.
"His works are a record of a restless, intelligent man, pacing a cell of his own invention and staring through the barred windows at the stars beyond."
Of course that is the plight of the Christian intellectual the world over. Sometimes our intelligence imprisons us (then again, sometimes just our stubborn sinfulness). Whereas ignorance can be bliss--I remember the rapturous faces of old Indian women at prayer before flickering votives, cracked bare feet, rainbow colored clothes, saying the rosary in those gigantic Spanish churches that dwarf their Andean villages. Glowing faith. Compared favorably with my parents' cocktail party banter about religious hypocrites.