Righteous, Prudent, Possible: The C.S. Lewis Philosophy to Why We Should Write

Why are we writers? No, I need to be more specific than that. Lewis and his mentor – William T. Kirkpatrick – wouldn’t have it any other way.

For what are we, in the Tolkien definition, subcreators in imitation of our Author? We create worlds and characters and stories that express an artistic imitation of life in some truthful or revealing way. But one only has to look at the discussion about criticism of fiction to come across this idea. Clearly it is an art, and a means. But a means to do what?

If certain pundits, activitsts and armchair moral philosophers are to be believed, the ultimate goal for the fiction writer is to “build up society.” Apparently, this is the ultimate obligation of everything else on this planet, too. According to them, fiction is meant to guide people on towards their destiny, and build up the right kind of establishments that will inspire humanity to be its best self. Ah, we see “through a glass dimly” indeed. It sounds so right, people throw themselves into this conclusion without question. It, in fact, irritates many of these people to question this idea.

Regardless (or because of said potential irritation), I question this. The discussion reminded me of something from The Screwtape Letters #25.

Lewis posits that “of a proposed course of action [God] wants men, so far as I can see, to ask very simple questions”:

• Is it righteous?
• Is it prudent?
• Is it possible?

On the other hand, the world always wants us to ask questions like:

• “Is it in accordance with the general movement of our time?”
• “Is it progressive or reactionary?”
• “Is this the way that History is going?”

Lo and behold, how many answer the call of those complicated questions? Questions where the goalpost is moved constantly, are murky at best, and that the movers and shakers of our time will refuse to define for fear of tipping their hand.

Where does that leave the writers? Under constant social pressure to fulfill every incompatible philosophy that’s blowing around, inkpens chained to desks told only to do this and and that and to go no further. A free expression of subcreation turns into servitude to society under pain of attacks upon the work and character of the storyteller. So much for the enlightenment of modern society, where we claim to be advanced beyond ignorance and bigotry, and then drive escapism out of art as heresy.

Remember, the true daring of a storyteller is not to be the loudest megaphone for the cause, but to – in any age – bring humanity back down to Earth. Story is a purifier, a cure, a touchstone of realities and truths that were put by God deep down in us. They remind us what our lives, our efforts, our causes are for. Art – music, poetry, story, all things expressive – are to capture the abstract and intangible and communicate what lies beyond the tangle of societal issues that will change day to day. Story is a way to reframe experiences into something recognizable to remind us of simple truths, and we can’t forget that these divinely formed and established truths are the Ends, not the Means.

So when you find yourself worrying about whether or not you should include something in your story and how it should be portrayed, don’t judge by man’s standards. God’s laws, by comparison, allow much more room for creative freedom, only concerned with those simple things:

• Is it righteous? (Will the way the subject matter is portrayed be truthful according to God’s Word?)
• Is it prudent? (Is the story being told in the most effective way?)
• Is it possible? (Does the story express itself logically and clearly to your audience?)

Once you’ve accomplished that, stop worrying and write on.

There’s lot to this topic, but that is enough for now. Until next time, Godspeed and Peace be with ya!