That Hideous Strength 3: Climax

Previous posts: Introduction, Part One: Setup, Part Two: Development.

Climax?  Isn’t it a little early for that?  Most of us have the idea that the climax is a high point of the story (as the word would seem to suggest), after which nothing is left but tying up loose ends.  But there’s another way to understand climax, in literary terms: it’s the point at which all the major decisions have been made.  We’ll be there at the end of chapter 12.  The “high point” of the story will indeed wait until the fourth quarter, but it will consist of working out the characters’ choices, not forcing them.

CHAPTER NINE: THE SARACEN’S HEAD

9-1  Saracen means “Arabic,” referring to Alcansan’s ethnicity.  Poor Alcansan barely has the distinction of being a character in the story, and he’s not one now, as we’ll soon see.

9-2  No attribution has been found to the line quoted in the first chapter about “an inflammation swollen and deformed, his memory,” so Lewis himself could be the poet.  Great line, underscoring Mark’s clash with cold reality.  “They would kill him if he annoyed them; perhaps behead him.”  Notice how the N.I.C.E. has become they, but Mark does not yet have an us to identify with.  He’s fallen between stools, literally damned if he does and damned if he does not.  Notice how his “modern” education has not equipped him to deal with an unambiguous crisis.

9-3  A reader may feel a little impatient with Lewis here; breaking off an exciting narrative to attend to MacPhee and his annoying discursions.  But it’s being rather clever of the author to introduce the subject of supernatural beings by means of a hardboiled skeptic. MacPhee’s background is interesting, too: he’s the descendant of Scottish Covenanters who were deported to Ireland by James I as a way of getting rid of them and also helping to civilize the “wild Irish.”  That’s why Northern Ireland is Protestant.  Lewis seems to have had some respect for the Scottish Calvinists who demanded proof in the word of God (like MacPhee’s uncle), but would probably fault them for lack of imagination and sympathy.  What Jane asks about the eldila–“Are they perfectly huge?”–recalls her experience with hugeness in 7-2. ~ The poem Camilla quotes is by Charles Williams, a good friend of Lewis and member of the “Inklings” circle. ~ “Logres” derives from the ancient Welsh name for the England of King Arthur.  Arthur is probably one of the “perhaps about six” humans who never died but were taken straight to Heaven.  We can account for two more—does the Bible preclude there being any others?

9-4 This strategy session produces no clear strategy, to MacPhee’s disgust, but we finally know what we’re up against.  “Science” proposes to join with “magic,” new power with old power, to surround and ultimately crush humanity.  Even in the midst of  apocalyptic concerns, squabbles over authority and chain-of-command pop up.  The Director’s question about personnel (“Were you all under the impression that I had selected you?”) raises an interesting question about choice and destiny.  No one in the company can say either that they came freely or that they were compelled to come in; rather, it was both.  Lewis says this about his own conversion, in Surprised by Joy.  Recalls Jesus’ reminder to his disciples that their wills are not entirely their own: “You have not chosen me, but I chose you.”

9-5  The Director ponders.  It’s worthwhile to ponder with him, but if you get swamped by obscure references and vocabulary, the relevant point is that science and magic are not that far apart (more on this later), even though most scientists would like to think they’re polar opposites.  Hard-headed empiricists like MacPhee insist on conclusions derived from reason based on observation, but do not insist on a rational creator.  Here’s where that thinking leads: former “scientists” who hope to dig up a centuries-old magician and recruit him to their cause.  “What should they find incredible, since they believed no longer in a rational universe?”  The Belbury Inner Ring is at the point that the inhabitants of Babel reached in Gen. 11:6: “. . . This is only the beginning of what they will do.  And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them.”  By reuniting with magic at this late date, science will will be able to command unprecedented power over mankind.

A few terms: Numinor belongs to the world of Tolkien; it refers to the fall of the Second Era in Middle Earth mythology.  Tolkien was another member of Inklings and frequently shared drafts of The Lord of the Rings during their weekly meetings.  But his masterpiece wasn’t published until the mid-fifties–that’s why Lewis spells the Numinor instead of Numenor–he probably hadn’t seen the word, only heard it read. ~ The lost continent of Atlantis was one inspiration for Tolkien’s Second Era. ~ Elan vital = life force. ~ Panpsychism: the belief that plants and inanimate objects, as well as humans and animals, enjoy some form of consciousness. ~ Anima mundi = world soul.

CHAPTER TEN: THE CONQUERED CITY

10-1  Mark is in a lose-lose situation: stay at Belbury, and descend to levels he doesn’t want to go; leave Belbury, and face a trial for murder that will probably end in his hanging.  The wallet is a plot element with which Lewis has used the fiction writer’s Rule of Three: the first mention (4-3) introduces the object.  The second (6-2) reinforces it, so the reader doesn’t forget, and the third springs the trap.  We  know, though Mark doesn’t yet, that it’s a deliberate frame-up.  He’s also slow to recognize that guilt or innocence has no relevance whatsoever—no more than left or right, right or wrong, truth or falsehood.  The Inner Ring has moved beyond all that.

10-2  At least Mark is finally and permanently alerted to his danger.  We want to cheer when he strikes out at Wither, but Wither isn’t really there.  His mode of being has altered in a way we’ll learn more about later.  He is not a “person,” in any way we would understand.  But Mark, by contrast, may be on his way to becoming one: note especially the last paragraph.  Can you relate?

10-3  It will take a while, though.  He’s not a strong enough personality to a take firm stand for either side.  Dimble has acquired that strength, but has to struggle with his own self-righteousness because of it: “trying very hard not to hate, and to despise, and above all not to enjoy hating and despising . . .”  This is a temptation for a lot of Christians (I’m one of them).  Our best antidote is I Cor. 6:11: “For such were some of you.”  Dimble ends up doing the right thing, but Mark is undone by indecisiveness.  Unable to make up his mind to do anything truly risky, he abruptly has his mind made up for him.

10-4  Dimble continues the self-examination while driving home.  “Is there a whole Belbury inside of you?” acts as a reality check–for him and for us, when we feel ourselves getting carried away by outrage.  (The Brother Lawrence quote is found in The Practice of the Presence of God, ca. 1650, a collection of letters and meditations.)  Belbury is busy in the external world as well, as Dimble soon learns after reaching home.  (Is this the first use of the name Maleldil? Obviously referring to God.)

CHAPTER ELEVEN: BATTLE BEGUN

11-1  And about time! as MacPhee might say.  Jane’s world is still being unmade (cf. 7-1); is she coming closer to God?

11-2  Miss Hardcastle’s account of shadowing Mark shows how little she understands the opposition.  Wither and Frost have a  better idea what they’re up against, but their sources are not infallible either.  Their discussion reveals that Frost really did have access to Jane’s mind—or his superiors did—when she dreamed about him, but shortly afterwards her mind was closed.  Why, do you suppose?  What are their new plans for Mark?  And what knowledge might they share with him that even Filostrato doesn’t know?  Wither’s stated desire to “to receive—to absorb—to assimilate this young man” reminds me of Uncle Screwtape. ~  We haven’t seen much of Frost so far, but he will come into sharper focus.  He seems to be a much more defined  personality than Wither but that is an illusion.  In the last few paragraphs we realize that they have given themselves up–sacrificed their individual personalities–in pursuit of a “higher power,” and there really isn’t that much difference between them.

11-3  Mark alone.  Impending death can certainly wipe the lens of one’s perspective—if God is merciful.  Mark undergoes a kind of Pilgrim’s Regress (as in Lewis’s allegory of that title): looking over his life’s ambitions and seeing them for the sham they were.  He’s not going forward yet, but that’s because he must first go all the way back: “You must be born again.”

CHAPTER TWELVE: WET AND WINDY NIGHT

12-2 and 12-3  Recall Mr. Stone from 5-1, an organization man who got on the wrong side of the powers that be and is desperate to redeem himself.  Obviously, Belbury and St. Anne’s are seeking the same prey—who will get to him first?

12-4  and 12-5  It’s interesting to compare these two conversations.  Frost with his “macrobes” and Ransom with his “unities” are talking about supernatural realities, but Frost takes the reductionist approach, breaking all human responses down to meaningless reflexes, while Ransom builds up a hierarchy of response reflective of God himself.  Frost would decrease, Ransom would increase, the significance of human life.  Does Frost know he’s talking about demons?  If so, he doesn’t care; names and distinctions are meaningless to him.  But for Ransom and his band, a vague, unknown power is about to take a name—and a personality and distinctiveness they would never have imagined.

12-6  We know without being told that the stranger pounding on the door at St. Anne’s is Merlin himself.  Any guesses as to who is ensconced at Belbury?  Note Wither’s comment that he knows “the look of a Master . . . One sees at once that Straik or Studdock might do; that Miss Hardcastle, with all her excellent qualities, would not.”  Why would the Fairy not do?

12-7  We’re on Mark’s side now, or he’s on ours, but what happens almost at once?  Idolatry—exalting himself as the hero—weakens his resolve and makes him easy prey.  What’s different now is that he sees it: the true dimensions of the struggle.  And for the first time, he knows he can’t do it alone.  “All that could in any sense be called himself went into that cry . . .” and the last corner has been turned.

Continue on to Part Four.