Rambling Down the Boulevard,

As so often happens with nonfiction books, the subtitle of C. S. Lewis’s The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature is quite misleading. It suggests that the book is full of interesting tidbits about, say, Chaucer, whereas in fact the book is much more focused on the classical authors who shaped the medieval image of the heavens - hence “the discarded image,” largely swept away by later thinkers, but still surviving in odd phrases here and there.

I was particularly fascinated by the chapter about which ancient authors were popular and relatively accessible during the medieval period. For instance, their most direct access to Plato came through a Latin translation of Timaeus, but they had many works by neo-Platonists, and it was through this neo-Platonist filter that they had their own Platonic age of thought. (The neo-Platonists had actually been the last great holdouts against Christianity, so it’s fascinating to see them simply get folded into it here.)

The book also goes into great detail about the Image itself. I won’t try to summarize it all here, but a few bits I found especially interesting:

1. The medieval model was indeed geocentric, but Lewis points out that this does not mean that medieval thinkers considered the Earth especially important. In fact, they considered the Earth a mere infinitesimal dot, the lowest spot in the universe and the ultimate destination for the universe’s refuse. A person standing on Earth was looking up and up and up into infinitely more beautiful, perfect, higher and more important spheres.

2. The medieval thinker also thought the universe was suffused with sunlight and music (the music of the spheres); the idea of space as cold, dark, and scary came about later.

3. The belief in the influence of the planets on earthly life remained strong, and the Church had to exert a great deal of energy against the idea of astrological determinism.

4. There’s also a chapter about the longaevi, the Good Folk, with a fascinating discussion about the different meanings assigned to these beings - meanings so divergent that Spenser could write The Faerie Queen as a compliment to Queen Elizabeth, while at the same time people were sometimes tried for witchcraft on the charge of traffic with the fairy folk. (As Lewis notes, witchcraft trials were far more a Renaissance than a medieval phenomenon.)

Also, book gives insight into certain aspects of Lewis’s own fiction, in particular that bit in That Hideous Strength where Lewis starts talking about the seven genders and then just sort of wanders off in the middle of gender #4. “How can you tell us there are seven genders and then only give us four?” I demanded. Well, now I think that to Lewis (the medievalist) it was perfectly obvious that the seven genders were male, female, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mercury. The other planets weren’t discovered till later and Earth of course doesn’t count on account of being the cesspit of the universe.

And he didn’t spend much time explaining what exactly Jupiter gender was like because, to his steeped-in-medieval-literature mind, this was perfectly obvious. The Jupiter character is “Kingly; but we must think of a King at peace, enthroned, taking his leisure, serene. The Jovial character is cheerful, festive yet temperate, tranquil, magnanimous.” I believe extrapolating this temperament into a gender is Lewis’s innovation, but he could be working off a classical source.

However, sadly, this book does not cast any light on what crimes the star might have committed in order to be banished to an island in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. However, it seems likely these also have an ancient or medieval source, so perhaps someday I will find out!

What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Strange Pictures, by Uketsu, translated by Jim Rion. Very scary! Made the mistake of reading it in the evening then felt small and scared and sent SOS texts to friends who soothed me with cat pictures. (There’s nothing particularly graphic in the book, but one of the murder methods just struck me as extra scary.)

As with Uketsu’s other novel Strange Houses, the mystery here didn’t strike me as particularly plausible, but who cares when the atmosphere is so impeccable? Propulsively readable. Zipped through the whole thing in one evening and even though I was scared, I wanted another. Maybe there are more Uketsu translations on deck?

I also read Catherine Coneybeare’s Augustine the African, a biography of St. Augustine which focuses on his position as a provincial from North Africa in the late Roman Empire, and the effect this may have had on his theological thought. I’ve long been interested in the Roman Empire, but most of my nonfiction reading has focused on its earlier days, so it was super interesting to learn more about the crumbling of the empire (even after Alaric sacked Rome, it kept chugging along to an amazing extent), and also look at it all from a provincial angle.

I also enjoyed Coneybeare’s emphasis on Augustine’s social networks, and the way the Christian social networks often cut across lines of class and geography - especially after the sack of Rome, when many wealthy Roman Christians fled to North Africa for safety. And she clearly explained both the Donatist and Arian heresies, which have long puzzled me! I’m still working out the details of the Pelagian heresy (too much works, not enough faith?) but one cannot expect to understand all the heresies all at once.

What I’m Reading Now

William Dean Howells’ My Mark Twain, which starts with a description of Twain bursting into the offices of The Atlantic wearing a sealskin coat with the fur out. This is apparently NOT how you wear a sealskin coat, as later on Howells and Twain went walking through Boston together, Howells suffering and Twain exulting in the stares of all the passersby.

What I Plan to Read Next

We’re coming up on my annual St. Patrick’s Day reading! I’m planning to read Sarah Tolmie’s The Fourth Island (about a magical fourth Island of Aran, I believe) and Eve Bunting’s St. Patrick’s Day in the Morning, illustrated by Jan Brett - one of Brett’s earliest books I believe, so I’ll be curious to compare it with her later illustration style.