The Inklings

1. C.S. Lewis's Early Journey: From Northern Myth to Christian Faith

‘It was sea and islands now. The great continent had sunk like Atlantis.’

Childhood's End. Clive Staples Lewis, known as Jack, experienced a profound shift in his world after his mother's death at age nine, transforming his "steady humdrum happiness" into a fragmented existence. This early trauma was compounded by a horrific boarding school experience, driving him to voracious reading and a deep immersion in Norse mythology, which offered an "authentic thrill" and a sense of "Northernness." His father's inconsistent moods and the oppressive home environment further pushed him towards intellectual pursuits and away from conventional religious belief.

Intellectual Awakening. Under the tutelage of the strict atheist W.T. Kirkpatrick, Lewis honed his logical reasoning, leading him to abandon childhood faith and declare all religions, including Christianity, as mere "mythologies." He found pagan stories, especially Norse myths, more appealing, even writing a tragedy, "Loki Bound," that depicted God as a cruel force. Despite his atheism, he found unexpected delight in works like Malory's Grail legends and George MacDonald's Phantastes, hinting at a deeper longing that his rationalism couldn't fully suppress.

Seeds of Change. Lewis's intellectual journey continued at Oxford, where he excelled in Classics and Philosophy, adopting a skeptical "New Look" that aligned with the prevailing academic tone. However, his intense intellectual "Great War" with Owen Barfield challenged his rigid separation of imagination and reason. Barfield convinced him that "Joy"—the profound imaginative longing he experienced—was not merely subjective but a "moment of clearest consciousness," a truthful experience that began to crumble his purely rationalist worldview and open him to the possibility of objective truth beyond mere logic.

2. Tolkien and Lewis: A Friendship Forged in Shared Mythopoeia

‘The unpayable debt that I owe to him was not “influence” as it is ordinarily understood, but sheer encouragement. He was for long my only audience.’

Initial Skepticism. J.R.R. Tolkien, the new Professor of Anglo-Saxon, initially met Lewis in 1926, finding him a "smooth, pale, fluent little chap" with whom he disagreed on academic priorities, particularly the emphasis on "language" versus "literature" in the English School. Tolkien, deeply rooted in early English and Old Icelandic, advocated for a syllabus that treated ancient texts as literature, not just linguistic exercises, a view Lewis initially opposed. This academic friction, however, soon gave way to a deeper connection.

The Coalbiters' Spark. Their friendship truly ignited through the "Coalbiters" (Kolbítar) club, which Tolkien founded to read Icelandic sagas in the original. Lewis, a lifelong admirer of Norse myths, found this "invigorating," despite his limited Icelandic. The shared experience of delving into these ancient tales, particularly the Younger Edda, rekindled Lewis's "old authentic thrill" for Northernness. This common passion culminated in a late-night conversation in 1929, where Lewis realized Tolkien shared his unique imaginative landscape, a moment he described as discovering, "What? You too? I thought I was the only one."

Myth as Truth. This shared imaginative world led Tolkien to reveal his own burgeoning mythology, The Silmarillion, including the epic poem "The Gest of Beren and Lúthien." Lewis's enthusiastic reception and detailed, playful criticism deeply encouraged Tolkien, who had previously kept his "stuff" a private hobby. Their discussions on myth culminated in a pivotal 1931 conversation where Tolkien argued that myths are not "lies" but "splintered fragments of the true light," reflecting God's own "mythopoeia." This idea profoundly impacted Lewis, helping him bridge the gap between his intellectual acceptance of Theism and his eventual embrace of Christianity as a "true myth."

3. Charles Williams: The Enigmatic Visionary Joins the Circle

‘He seemed to me to approximate, more nearly than any man I have known familiarly, to the saint.’

A City of Order. Charles Williams, a Londoner by birth and a long-serving employee of the Oxford University Press, found profound meaning in the City of London's "ideal order," seeing it as an earthly reflection of the City of God. His early life, marked by financial anxieties and his father's intellectual guidance, fostered a mind that embraced complexity, seeing both good and darkness in all things. This unique perspective, combined with a love for ritual and ceremony, shaped his distinctive approach to literature and faith.

Romantic Theology and the Occult. Williams developed a "Romantic Theology," inspired by Dante, which posited human love as a "ladder" to divine ecstasy, a concept explored in his sonnet sequence The Silver Stair. Simultaneously, he delved into Rosicrucianism and the Order of the Golden Dawn, acquiring extensive knowledge of magic and the occult. While he saw black magic as a valid form of symbolism, he maintained a conscious choice to believe in Christianity, integrating these esoteric elements into his novels as explorations of power and the "Arch-natural" world.

Personal Turmoil, Creative Outburst. A deeply personal crisis—his unrequited love for a colleague, "Celia"—became a transformative experience, akin to Troilus's "entire subversion of his whole experience" in Shakespeare. This emotional crucible spurred his "great period" of writing, producing novels like War in Heaven and Shadows of Ecstasy, which explored the rightful and wrongful use of power and the constant interplay between the natural and supernatural. His unique blend of "purple rhetoric and precise realism" captivated some, including T.S. Eliot, but often left others, like J.B. Priestley, finding his work "painfully incredible."

4. The Inklings: A Crucible of Ideas, Friendship, and Fierce Debate

‘They are good for my mind.’

A New Gathering. After the original undergraduate "Inklings" club dissolved, Lewis transferred the name to his informal circle of Oxford friends, who began meeting regularly on Thursday evenings in his Magdalen rooms. This group, including Tolkien, Hugo Dyson, and later Charles Williams, became a vital intellectual and social hub. Williams, upon joining in 1939, quickly recognized the value of these gatherings, noting, "They are good for my mind," as he found himself among intellectual equals who challenged his ideas.

Intellectual Sparring. The Inklings' meetings were characterized by readings of "work in progress" (primarily by Lewis, Tolkien, and Williams), followed by vigorous, often boisterous, debate. Lewis, with his "bow-wow dogmatism," and Dyson, with his "mercurial" wit, ensured lively discussions, while Tolkien, though less verbally agile in debate, contributed profound insights. These sessions were a blend of serious literary criticism, theological argument, and light-hearted banter, often fueled by beer and pipe tobacco, creating an atmosphere of intense intellectual camaraderie.

Mutual Support and Criticism. While offering mutual encouragement, the Inklings also provided invaluable, often severe, criticism. Lewis, for instance, praised Williams's Milton lectures but also critiqued his "deplorable errors in taste" and "undisciplined mind." Tolkien, despite his personal affection for Williams, found his work "wholly alien, and sometimes very distasteful." This environment of honest, rigorous feedback, though sometimes uncomfortable, was crucial for the members' creative development, pushing them to refine their ideas and writing.

5. Lewis's Christian Apologetics: Engaging the Modern World

‘Even assuming (which I most constantly deny) that the doctrines of historic Christianity are merely mythical, it is the myth which is the vital and nourishing element in the whole concern.’

A Defender of Faith. Lewis's conversion to Christianity in 1931 marked a turning point, transforming him into a fervent apologist. His first major work in this vein, The Pilgrim's Regress (1933), was an allegorical journey defending Christianity, Reason, and "Romanticism" (his term for the search for Joy), while fiercely attacking contemporary intellectual trends like modernism, Freudianism, and Marxism. He saw himself as a champion of traditional, supernaturalist Christianity against "liberal" or "demythologised" interpretations.

Wartime Voice. The Second World War provided Lewis with a broader platform for his apologetics. His book The Problem of Pain (1940), dedicated to the Inklings, explored the Christian justification of suffering, resonating with a wartime audience. This was followed by The Screwtape Letters (1942), a satirical epistolary novel from the perspective of a senior demon, which became a bestseller and cemented his reputation as a popular Christian writer. These works, born from his personal struggles with temptation, offered accessible yet profound insights into Christian theology.

Public Engagement and Debate. Lewis's wartime BBC radio talks, later compiled as Mere Christianity, further amplified his reach, making him a household name. He presented Christianity as a "fighting religion," emphasizing moral law and the necessity of choice. While immensely popular, his direct, often "bellicose" style and reliance on logical "proofs" for God's existence drew criticism, even from fellow Christians like Elizabeth Anscombe, who publicly challenged his arguments. This intellectual pugnacity, though effective in public debate, sometimes overshadowed the poetic and imaginative depth of his faith.

6. Tolkien's Middle-earth: A Mythology of Mortality and the Machine

‘Languages are a disease of mythology.’

A World of His Own. J.R.R. Tolkien's imaginative life was centered on creating a comprehensive mythology, The Silmarillion, and its offshoot, The Lord of the Rings. This "sub-creation" was driven by a profound love for "Northernness" and a desire to provide a "history" for his invented languages. Unlike Lewis, who often borrowed from existing myths, Tolkien meticulously crafted his own, ensuring internal consistency in every detail, from chronology and geography to meteorology, aiming for his stories to be perceived as history rather than mere fiction.

Thematic Depths. Tolkien's work, particularly The Lord of the Rings, explored profound themes: the Fall, mortality, and the "Machine." He viewed the "Machine" as the use of external devices and power to dominate and coerce, contrasting it with art's ability to create a "secondary world" in the mind. He believed that "labour-saving machinery only creates endless and worse labour," and that true progress lay not in technological advancement but in the development of inner powers and talents, a perspective that resonated with Lewis's own critiques of modern "Progress."

Encouragement and Disagreement. Lewis was Tolkien's most important early audience, providing "sheer encouragement" for The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. He championed Tolkien's work, writing glowing reviews and advocating for its publication. However, their literary tastes diverged significantly. Tolkien, a man of "limited sympathies," found Lewis's Narnia stories "intensely" disliked due to their hasty composition, indiscriminate borrowing from various mythologies, and lack of rigorous "sub-creation," highlighting a fundamental difference in their artistic approaches despite their shared belief in the power of myth.

7. Williams's Oxford Impact: Lectures, Poetry, and Esoteric Theology

‘The restoration of Milton criticism to its proper balance is but a side-accident of Our existence; not Our chief affair.’

A Cometary Blaze. Charles Williams's arrival in Oxford during the war was, as Lewis described, "a cometary blaze," bringing his unique intellectual and spiritual energy to the University. Despite his lack of a formal degree, Lewis "smuggled him into the Oxford lecture list," where Williams's impassioned, unscripted lectures on Milton and Chastity captivated audiences, particularly young women. Lewis noted that Williams "forced them to lap it up and I think many, by the end, liked the taste more than they expected to," demonstrating his profound impact on students.

The Figure of Beatrice. Williams's most significant work during his Oxford years was The Figure of Beatrice (1943), a profound interpretation of Dante's Divine Comedy through the lens of his "Romantic Theology." This book, which Lewis praised as "extraordinarily clear," brought Williams academic respectability and public recognition, despite his earlier struggles with obscurity. It articulated his belief that romantic love could serve as a "ladder" to the selfless love of God, a "Way of Affirmation" that contrasted with traditional asceticism.

Esoteric Doctrines. Beyond his public lectures and published works, Williams continued to cultivate his "Companions of the Co-inherence," a group of disciples who practiced his esoteric doctrines. Central to this was "Substitution" or "Substituted Love," the belief that individuals could voluntarily bear the emotional or even physical burdens of others, a concept Williams saw as mirroring Christ's ultimate sacrifice. This practice, while deeply Christian in spirit, also carried an "air of the magical," reflecting his earlier involvement with the occult and his complex, often unsettling, understanding of spiritual power.

8. The Inklings' Post-War Evolution: New Faces and Fading Routines

‘No one turned up after dinner, which was just as well, as J. has a bad cold and wanted to go to bed early.’

A Void Left. Charles Williams's sudden death in May 1945 deeply affected the Inklings, leaving a void that Lewis felt made "death itself look quite different." Despite the grief, the Thursday meetings continued, with new members like Gervase Mathew and Christopher Tolkien joining the core group. Christopher, in particular, took over reading his father's Lord of the Rings chapters, often to the relief of the others who found Tolkien's own readings less clear.

Clash of Generations. The post-war era brought new dynamics, including the presence of younger members like John Wain, who represented a generation increasingly out of sync with the Inklings' conservative views. Wain, a former pupil of Lewis, admired the group but found their "politically conservative, not to say reactionary" and "frankly hostile to any manifestation of the 'modern' spirit" attitudes difficult to reconcile with his own burgeoning political awareness and modernist literary tastes. This generational divide highlighted the Inklings' growing isolation from contemporary intellectual currents.

The Slow Dissolution. As the 1940s drew to a close, the Inklings' formal Thursday evening meetings gradually faded. Tolkien ceased reading The Lord of the Rings chapters, and Lewis no longer shared his Narnia stories with the group. The emphasis shifted almost entirely to conversation, making the success of each evening dependent on the mood of those present. The last recorded Thursday meeting in Warnie Lewis's diary was in October 1949, marking an imperceptible end to a cherished routine, though the Tuesday lunchtime gatherings at the "Bird and Baby" continued for some time.

9. Lewis's Narnia: A Myth Reimagined, Yet Not Universally Embraced

‘It is sad that “Narnia” and all that part of C. S. L.’s work should remain outside the range of my sympathy.’

A New Creative Direction. Following the success of his Christian apologetics, Lewis embarked on a new creative venture: the "Narnia" stories for children, beginning with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950). These tales were conceived as an imaginative answer to the question of "What might Christ be like if there really were a world like Narnia," reimagining core Christian events within a fantastical setting. This approach allowed him to convey spiritual truths without resorting to explicit allegory, leaving readers free to interpret the stories as they pleased.

Prolific and Popular. Lewis wrote the seven Narnia books with remarkable speed, completing most of them within a few years. This prolific output, combined with their engaging narratives and accessible Christian themes, quickly established him as a respected children's author. The series, drawing on diverse sources from classical mythology to Beatrix Potter, enriched his writing and resonated deeply with a wide audience, further expanding his public renown beyond academic circles.

Tolkien's Disapproval. Despite Lewis's enthusiasm and the books' popularity, Tolkien "disliked it intensely." His objections stemmed from Lewis's hasty writing, inconsistencies, and indiscriminate borrowing from various mythologies (fauns, Father Christmas, talking animals), which for Tolkien, undermined the "suspension of disbelief" necessary for a convincing "secondary world." Tolkien, a meticulous "sub-creator," found Lewis's approach to myth-making too casual and lacking the rigorous internal consistency he demanded, leading to a significant divergence in their literary appreciation.

10. Love, Loss, and Transformation: Lewis's Late-Life Marriage

‘No one can mark the exact moment at which friendship becomes love.’

A New Chapter. After the death of Mrs Moore in 1951, Lewis experienced a period of unexpected happiness and freedom. This coincided with his correspondence with Joy Davidman, an American writer and convert to Christianity, whose "amusing and well-written letters" captivated him. Their friendship deepened, and when Joy faced deportation from England in 1956, Lewis entered into a civil marriage with her, initially describing it as a "pure matter of friendship and expediency" to secure her residency.

Love's Revelation. Joy's subsequent diagnosis of bone cancer transformed their relationship. As Lewis confronted her impending death, his feelings evolved from friendship to profound love, a revelation that challenged his earlier, more detached views on romantic love. He sought a church marriage, which was eventually performed at her hospital bedside, marking a spiritual and emotional commitment that transcended the initial "expediency." Her miraculous, though temporary, recovery further deepened their bond, allowing them a period of unexpected marital happiness.

A Grief Observed. Joy's eventual relapse and death in 1960 plunged Lewis into intense grief, which he chronicled pseudonymously in A Grief Observed. This raw, honest account explored his struggles with faith, doubt, and the nature of God in the face of suffering, revealing a more vulnerable and "real" Lewis than many had previously seen. His marriage, initially a pragmatic arrangement, ultimately became a transformative experience that reshaped his understanding of love, faith, and his own identity, culminating in his deeply personal novel Till We Have Faces.

11. The Inklings' Enduring Legacy: A Tapestry of Minds and Affections

‘He was the link who bound us all together.’

The End of an Era. Lewis's move to Cambridge in 1954, though he maintained ties with Oxford, marked a shift. The Inklings' Tuesday meetings continued, but without Lewis's constant presence, the dynamic changed. His death in 1963, overshadowed by the assassination of President Kennedy, effectively brought the Inklings to an end. As R.E. Havard observed, Lewis "was the link who bound us all together," and without him, the informal gatherings lost their central gravitational force.

Complex Affections. The friendships within the Inklings were deep and complex, often marked by both profound affection and intellectual friction. Tolkien, despite his cooling relationship with Lewis in later years due to differences in faith, Lewis's marriage, and his "vulgar" public success, acknowledged a "great debt" and "deep affection." Warnie Lewis, whose life "centred round J.," found his brother's marriage to Joy a source of initial apprehension but ultimately a welcome enrichment, highlighting the personal nature of these bonds beyond mere intellectual camaraderie.

A Lasting Influence. While the Inklings were not a formal literary movement, their shared commitment to "Old Western Culture," their critiques of modernism, and their belief in the power of myth and story left an indelible mark. Lewis's apologetics, Tolkien's Middle-earth, and Williams's esoteric theology, though diverse in form and content, collectively offered a powerful counter-narrative to the prevailing intellectual currents of their time. Their mutual encouragement and rigorous debate fostered works that continue to resonate with readers, demonstrating the enduring power of intellectual friendship.