I just finished reading C. S. Lewis'
The Screwtape Letters, and find myself wishing I'd picked it up years ago.
That I didn't was because I somehow managed to grossly mischaracterize the book's nature in my mind. Apparently from nothing, I hit upon the idea that it was akin to how I've always (also based on very little) viewed
The Canterbury Tales: as a collection of barely-comprehensible writings upon which many inscrutable descriptions of excessive length were given to happenings of little substance and even less interest. Where I got this from I have no idea, as I was still fairly young when I hit upon an annotation in
The Calvin and Hobbes Tenth Anniversary Book wherein Bill Watterson admitted that Calvin's teacher, Miss Wormwood, was named after the apprentice devil in this book. That this didn't dislodge my wildly-incorrect assumption still mystifies me.
As it was, I finally realized that I needed to read this when I came across a much better (albeit still brief) description in a book about Lewis' Narnia, which I
read last year. It was with that thought in mind that I went to the permanent book sale at my local library, managing to procure a copy there.
Even then, I had some trouble making this fit. Between Gen Con and a temporary increase in my duties at work, I had less time than normal to polish off what would otherwise have been a quick read. It didn't help that the cover of this old copy (apparently published by Time in 1963) seemed intent on coming apart, requiring that I purchase book-repair tape to prevent it from detaching completely. Even then, I dared not open the covers more than fifty degrees or so.
Having said all of that, the contents of the book themselves are spectacular, and remind me that although Narnia may be Lewis' most famous creation, this is (at least in my mind) him at his best. I've already recommended it to several people that I know.
Presented as a series of letters from a senior devil (the titular Screwtape) to his nephew (Wormwood) as the latter tries to damn the soul of an unnamed Englishman (notwithstanding the essay "Screwtape Proposes a Toast," which was included here as well), the book is an insightful take on various issues surrounding the human condition. I'll note here a point of mild disagreement with regards to the book's Wikipedia page, which makes it sound (slightly) more religious than it is. Many of the letters could easily be commentaries on various aspects of life, such as Letter XI, which talks about different varieties of human in what seems to me to be a distinctly postmodern way. Likewise, Letter XXVI, which discusses the difference between charity and unselfishness, reflects several recent (secular) conversations I've been having with a close friend. While some are explicitly Christian in nature, nearly all can be related to by people of any (or no) faith.
On another point, while I can't say for certain, I think that this might have been the work that inaugurated the idea of Hell as having a corporate structure (e.g. with departments and training colleges), where the devils are middle-manager types, all angling to get a promotion and quite willing to stab their contemporaries in the back to do it. This is especially interesting when compared to Lewis' take (in his introduction) on devils as presented in Dante (he finds their rage, spite, and obscenity very appropriate to their nature), in Milton (as their "grandeur and high poetry" have "done great harm"), and in Goethe (taking marked umbrage at the idea that devils could ever have a sense of humor, as humor involves "a sense of proportion and a power of seeing yourself from the outside" which he finds antithetical to beings who sinned through excessive pride). It's no coincidence that the book opens with quotes from Martin Luther and Thomas More about how the Devil cannot stand to be mocked.
Throw in the interesting observation that devils seek to damn souls in order to consume them (and also to consume each other, if given the chance), and there's some good material for an infernally-focused RPG here. But really, the book is worth reading even without mining it for ideas. Its insights into what motivates people alone make it easily recommendable.
Maybe I should read
The Canterbury Tales next.
