Reviews for Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold

The average rating for Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2008-01-25 00:00:00 Darcy Watt Ironically, though Lewis considered this to be his best work, it is not very well known. Even among those who label themselves as Lewis fans, the work is not often read. Few people even know that it exists. Among the few, I would guess that there are a significant number feigning ignorance so as not to delve into the pages. Perhaps it is because the book is so often seen as a philosophical/theological work, something scholarly and dense and difficult to read. The somewhat colorless covers that the tale is often subjected to do not help matters. However, the majority of those who actually give this book a chance are more than pleased by the outcome. First of all, let me remind readers that Lewis wanted his stories to be, first and foremost, stories. Whatever you may think of his personal beliefs should not affect the reading of the tale, as it was written to BE a tale. Lewis did not set about to write a story based off of a principle. Rather, he set out to write a story, and the principles of the author cannot be separated from the work as the work is a part of the author's mind. That is why ideas are dubbed "brain children". Lewis's story itself is a masterpiece of imagination, scholarly knowledge, plot and great insight into the human character. It is the tale of Psyche and Cupid. However, rather than star the beautiful heroine of the myth, the main character is Psyche's older sister, Orual, a strong woman cursed with a hideous face. The story covers her love of Psyche, as well as her overall desire for love and her anger with the gods. This tale is set in a world of myth so well realized that it never once feels artificial. Many myth-inspired works feel unreal, as if the myth was painted on and the author only knew a little of his own world. Such is not the case in Till We Have Faces. It is believable from start to finish. This is strengthened by the tangibility of the characters themselves. No one is painted black or white. All are real human beings with feelings, hopes and reasons for their actions. Some criticism has been placed on this book concerning its depth. True, this is not light reading. This is not Eragon, after all. The story does have philosophical elements, as well as theological ones. The tale is one of contrasts -between classical and cultic paganism; between beauty and ugliness; between trust and jealousy. Also, the emotional current of the story is certainly passionate and the tone is dark. However, I do not see why any of these traits should prevent a reading. I read this book for the first time when I was twelve. The language may not be incredibly easy, but neither is it too dense nor too difficult to understand.

Review # 2 was written on 2007-07-22 00:00:00 Michael Gildersleeve List of beauties: - The epigraph: "Love is too young to know what conscience is." The first line of Shakespeare's Sonnet 151; Lewis makes the quotation speak of Orual's sub-moral love, Psyche's super-moral love, and the god's supra-mortal love. - Dedication: "To Joy Davidman." TWHF was published in 1956, when Lewis was married to Joy. He says somewhere that she was so involved in his mental processes during the creation of this book "as to be almost a co-author." - The first sentence: "I am old now and have not much to fear from the anger of gods." It sets the tone for the entire first section of the novel; it paints a vague historical and geographical context by the mere word "gods"; it encapsulates the character's past and present, age and attitude, faith and heresy. - The psychological honesty about the human sense of injustice by the gods. Who has not been tempted to say to God, "It's not fair"? - The fairy-tale feeling (The Stepmother, a nurse, a tutor, a dark god in a darker house, an agricultural society) infused with emotional realism, peopled by complex, timeless, modern characters. - The Fox. Wise, stoic, affectionate, stolid, tender, clever, witty, loveable, loving, a seeker of knowledge, a story-teller, a muddled mixture of the practical and the fantastical. - The intuitive, experiential understanding of the truth that The Law Kills. The smell of "the horror of holiness" hanging around the Priest of Ungit, human sacrifice, temple prostitution, ritual superstition, the essence of a pre-Christian religion. - Psyche herself. True beauty. As a newborn, "she made bright all the corner of the room in which she lay. Always laughing, making all others laugh, merry, truthful, obedient, virtuous, spirited, compassionate, selfless. In her was the Form of the Beautiful, "what every woman… ought to have been and meant to be." The Fox calls her Helen (one of Lewis's great symbols, and Joy Davidman's other name). - The subtlety of the horrors that shattered Orual's youthful happiness. No obvious catastrophes; then, finally, the worst blow paganism can give: sacrifice the most pure, the most beautiful, to The Brute. - The unanswerable nature of pre-Christian language, that apes our own diction so closely, yet with such twistings. In holy language, loving and devouring are the same; the Bride is the Brute's Supper; in a mystery, Ungit and her son are one. Parodies of the Trinity, of the Eucharist, of a believer's death and resurrection in baptism. - The psychological perfection of the scene in Psyche's prison-room on the night before the sacrifice. Orual accuses Psyche of a heart of iron'because it is strong and unbendable in torment. Orual has lost her, and grudges her this joy. - This Joy. "When I was happiest I longed most," says Istra, for death. For whatever was beyond the Grey Mountain. It was so intense "it almost hurt me." "The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing'to reach the Mountain'" or the island, or the blue flower, or the Great Beyond. "The longing for home." - Then, the perfection of the moment when each realizes the other's ignorance of an entire world. When Psyche realizes Orual cannot see her palace; when Orual realizes Psyche sees it right there in the fields and forest. And then the rain, the terrible rain that falls on Psyche and she feels it not, and Orual tries to cover and comfort her and cannot. They are divided by the gods. - The gods. The West-Wind, a young, rough god. The god who comes to Psyche in the night, who looks upon Orual with "passionless and measureless rejection." And the ending is the most Sublime piece of writing I have encountered: "I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?" That is a perfect summary of Christian theology; all you need to know to be saved, yet couched in mythology.