Perform the Mysterious Feat of Speaking Long After You’re Dead
Heaps of tailings can be found strewn outside deep shafts where not a few prospectors have sought to discover the rich vein that made C.S. Lewis one of the most popular writers of the twentieth century and his corpus worth its weight in gold.
It is no mean litotes to say that his works have not ceased producing any less in our modern world than they did in his own lifetime.
More than sixty years after his death, his best-selling Chronicles of Narnia novels have sold more than 100 million copies and three of the seven have been made into major motion pictures.
Mere Christianity, the edited transcripts of his wartime broadcasts on Christian faith, remains a top anchor in the vast chasm of Christian apologetics.
The good philosophy set forth in The Weight of Glory and The Abolition of Man is still answering modernity’s bad philosophy about man’s conquest of nature. And favorites like Miracles, The Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, and The Problem of Pain are grubstake for twenty-first century metaphysical prospectors.
Lewis’s writings and abilities deserve exploring because–as the author of Hebrews says of Abel–“though he died, he still speaks.”
A dead writer who is still speaking is the most promising model an aspiring writer can imitate.
This is why hordes of writers, educators, and theologians have flooded to Lewis as the Sutter’s Mill of English literature for six consecutive decades.
Like the forty-niners of the California gold rush, anyone with the itch to write or a story to tell has at some point dug into Lewis hoping to stake a claim and strike it rich in literary ore.
Another way to say this is there is no shortage of writers who would like to get their hands on Lewis’s secret sauce for excellent writing.