That Hideous Strength . . . the ending

Lewis's apocalyptic ending always amazes me. I thoroughly enjoy the destruction of Belbury brought about by the disintegration of language and the revenge of the brutalized animals. I can relate to the people, after the meal, listening to speeches they'd rather not have to hear and only half attending. Then startled into paying close attention when something out of the ordinary is said. I love it that the speakers each believe they are perfectly coherent until they see the astonished faces of the others. Feverstone in this scene is truly diabolical; he gets to a safe place and then watches with sadistic pleasure as the others panic and are trampled. Of course, he gets what's coming to him when he is buried in the landslide. The biblical allusion here to Babel is, of course, perfectly fitting and perhaps sheds light on the biblical story itself. The urge of reprobate humans to become as gods is not new in the scientific age--nor is the demonic temptation and arrogance which lures humans in to this desire. Lewis's story exposes it in our real world as well as in the world of the novel; he so clearly depicts the sometimes imperceptible stages that lead to the downward spiral out of grace.

I'm always so relieved when Mark begins to question the N.I.C.E., and when Frost tells him to trample the crucifix, he has a complex reaction, but it's here that he begins to wonder if there's some truth in Christianity. If there's not, why make such a big deal out of defying it?

The final scenes in St. Anne's are beautiful and satisfying; I really appreciate that they depict humans, especially the women, as nearly mythic creatures themselves. While the old myths are coming to life with the visiting Oyeresu, new myths are forming. A new Pendragon will become the Head of Logres, and these very "normal" people will continue as its protectors. Lewis is very clear that "normal" humans are much more than we generally perceive them to be. He says elsewhere that the people we take so much for granted in everyday situations are indeed creatures (he uses that word advisedly) whom, if we saw them for what they truly are, we would be tempted to worship or abhor and flee from in terror. He shows us these two extremes in That Hideous Strength and does it in so winsome a manner that readers, too, may be drawn in to the camp of grace, as Mark is in the end.

My students will be re-reading one book of the trilogy--whichever each one chooses--and branching out to other Inklings books in the next few weeks; I'm interested to see what they choose to focus on and what insights they will have.

In the meantime, I'll be reading Charles Williams and The Narnian . . . so more on that later.