#till we have faces

[dduane]

Lightly men talk of saying what they mean. Often when he was teaching me to write in Greek the Fox would say, "Child, to say the very thing you mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words." A glib saying. When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about the joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?

...Too frequently we get only bits and pieces of this core quote from C. S. Lewis's Till We Have Faces—not the whole thing; and sometimes (in at least a couple of online quote sources) mistranscribed from its original, with words changed or dropped out. it''s long past time to post it correctly and in its entirety.

[shisasan]

C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces [originally published 1956]

[derangedrhythms]

To be eaten and to be married to the god might not be so different.

C. S. Lewis, from ‘Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold’

[dimsilver]

over the garden wall / till we have faces by c.s. lewis

[haveyoureadthisbook-poll]

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

You’re telling me you’re into Greek Mythology ships and haven’t thought about Psyche petting Eros’s wings in the dark? Not him spreading them out and guiding her hand to feel how wide they go and how the real reason the lights are out is that he’s embarrassed and maybe that he hides his face in her shoulder as she touches him because it’s not as if he’s ever had someone of his own and then maybe she feels all the notches in his spine and takes a little breath and says, “oh— you’re a man.”

[shiroikabocha]

aw man, they deleted it. Somebody reblogged my old post about the sudden change in C.S. Lewis’s writing of female characters after he met, fell in love with, and married Joy Davidman (ie, the characters got a lot better—Oural is a massively complex woman, and largely inspired by Joy. By contrast, Jane Studdock feels like a confused cardboard cutout of various ‘cosmic feminine’ ideals, not a person.)

The reblogger pointed out that, well: Lewis had no sisters, his mother died when he was very young, he went to all-male boarding schools—his unfamiliarity with adult women was largely a product of environment, not from some kind of dedicated misogyny. And reblogger is right! They’re absolutely correct, and it’s part of what I find fascinating about C. S. Lewis’s life and writing. How much your understanding of your fellow humans can change when you meet a new, different kind of human! It’s wild!

I hope they didn’t delete it because they thought they were being rude. I hope they know their nuance is appreciated.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Extremely cursed thought of the day:

How do you cope with being so ugly that you have to cover your face, on a scale from Orual (tirade against the gods) to the Phantom of the Opera (kidnap a soprano)?

[idontwantrobyntodie]

so I’m converting my “for fun” powerpoint on Till We Have Faces into a ~professional~ one to present at this conference and rip to all the jokes I have to edit out :(

[thomasstaples]

Is there an active C.S. Lewis fandom on here?

[fairtradebananas]

I’m reading Till We Have Faces for the nth time and always noticing and pondering new things. This time, how Orual’s complaint against the gods is based on the notion that they unjustly withhold goodness from her (a good father, a good sister, beauty, etc), while at the same time she’s blind to the gifts they’ve given her that actually answer all of those complaints (the Fox to replace her father, Psyche to replace Redival, the opportunity to behold true beauty rather than possess it). Her complaint eclipses her ability to see the blessings she is constantly being given because they’re not given in the way that she wants them

[faerie-aurora]

“Holy places are dark places. It is life and strength, not knowledge and words, that we get in them. Holy wisdom is not clear and thin like water, but thick and dark like blood.”

— C.S. Lewis, from Till We Have Faces

[derangedrhythms]

Now mark yet again the cruelty of the gods. There is no escape from them into sleep or madness, for they can pursue you into them with dreams. Indeed you are then most at their mercy. The nearest thing we have to a defence against them (but there is no real defence) is to be very wide awake and sober and hard at work, to hear no music, never to look at earth or sky, and (above all) to love no one. 

C. S. Lewis, from ‘Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold’

[dimsilver]

this heartbreaking segment from the end of The House of Mourning by @suzannahnatters 🤝 Till We Have Faces

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Moon setting over Carrabelle Harbor, Florida, captured by Lisa Lacasse :: [Our Little Secret on St. George Island]

* * * *

From C.S. Lewis', 'Till We Have Faces':

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

"When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about the joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?"

"The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing - to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from - my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back."

[h/t Ian Sanders]