Friday, June 30, 2006

Thursday at the Kilns

So I've seen C.S. Lewis' house.

The furniture is all fake. Everything was sold shortly after 'Warnie' Lewis died in the late '60s, so the only real artifact to speak of was a typewriter (which they almost certainly did use.)

The grave didn't really make an impact either. The man's bones are under a rock; that's where they are. The man's bones are with his brother's, they're together in death as they were in life. The man's bones haven't moved for more than 40 years; and they won't move any time soon.

The one thing that has struck me is the creeping urbanization of the area. So similar to what's happening in Sherwood Park now; the acres and acres of trees and grass and so forth that have dissapeared. I'm not sure how Lewis would have felt about the film treatments of his books; but I'm positive that he would be saddened by the houses that are now covering the six acres of land that he used to keep between his place and a pond.
I know how he feels; every time someone builds a development on previously agricultural land, I feel that the world is changing for the worse. It's strange seeing the houses, the schools, the shops; I realize that people have a right to those things but I can't help wishing for the past to remain.

The elegiac is my favorite mode of literature. King Arthur, Beowulf, biblical accounts, all of my favorite stories are about people and places that are long dead. The greatest thing about those stories, I suppose, is the inherent theme of hope for the future. The biblical account is, of course, looking forward to the return of our Lord. Arthur is 'the once and future King' of the greatest kingdom in the world, Camelot. Beowulf is more pagan, but the cycle of a nation rising to glory and falling into destruction is stirringly relevant, with the promise that 'fate' will provide another good king before too long.

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