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4.14 AVERAGE
4.14 AVERAGE
challenging
dark
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This is a good read. I've had mixed feelings on Lewis' writing and use of themes, but this book was a breath of fresh air for me. Obviously it is laden with religiosity, which isn't nearly as much of an obtrusive entity as I found it to be in That Hideous Strength.
Lewis does best with creative license, and I think having a framework for a story in place for him to elaborate on is a great environment for his creativity to flourish. I liked the take on this myth and wish he had made more similar.
Lewis does best with creative license, and I think having a framework for a story in place for him to elaborate on is a great environment for his creativity to flourish. I liked the take on this myth and wish he had made more similar.
“I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer… How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”
C.S. Lewis’s retelling of the Cupid and Psyche myth is introspective and deeply philosophical. The writing is slower and more restrained, but the emotional arc is surprisingly rich.
As someone familiar with Lewis’ broader body of work, I found this novel fascinating in how it echoes his recurring themes: faith, self-perception, and the nature of reality itself. The story raises intriguing questions about what it means for something to be “real,” and how belief shapes perception.
Though there are moments that are frustratingly dated, especially in the portrayal of gender and race, the story ultimately asks powerful questions about truth, identity, and what it means to truly see and be seen.
Till We Have Faces is a re-telling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche, with some small but crucial variations on the old story: it retains the essential idea of Psyche convinced to disobey her lover by her jealous sisters, but in Lewis' version, the reason for the jealousy is different. In the original, there are two sisters, and they envy her material wealth. In this tale, there is one, and her jealousy is one of love – she does not want Psyche to be happy without her. It's a far more sympathetic motive, and yet that makes the actions of the main character all the uglier; but it also, paradoxically, makes her sufferings far more noble. Lewis weaves the fall and redemption of the two sisters together intimately, enriching rather than cheapening the old myth.
I've been dying to read Faces since I first heard about it months ago, and it's one of those rare books that lived up to my internal hype, absolutely gripping me with its dark but brilliant beauty. Of course, that does make it very difficult to review. If Till We Have Faces were a bad book, or even a superficially enjoyable book, I could write a litany on how and why it was bad or funny, because a bad or only-all-right book will always remain external to me. In those cases, the devices of the author are obvious to me, in the same way that highly detailed patterns can be interpreted easily when held at arm's length.
But when a book is very good, I can never explain why, because usually it's passed through my skin by some process of osmosis and is now located right up against my heart. If I wanted to explain its good qualities, I'd have to take it out of myself and look at it, and yes, sometimes I do that anyway, and sometimes I get to keep loving the book afterwards, and other times I never ever pick it up again. And if ever there were a book that made me feel like keeping secrets, it's this one – because one of the most prominent parts of the story is the disruption of the intimate communion between human and God by scepticism, fear and doubt. So having said too much already, I'm just going to say that I love it.
I've been dying to read Faces since I first heard about it months ago, and it's one of those rare books that lived up to my internal hype, absolutely gripping me with its dark but brilliant beauty. Of course, that does make it very difficult to review. If Till We Have Faces were a bad book, or even a superficially enjoyable book, I could write a litany on how and why it was bad or funny, because a bad or only-all-right book will always remain external to me. In those cases, the devices of the author are obvious to me, in the same way that highly detailed patterns can be interpreted easily when held at arm's length.
But when a book is very good, I can never explain why, because usually it's passed through my skin by some process of osmosis and is now located right up against my heart. If I wanted to explain its good qualities, I'd have to take it out of myself and look at it, and yes, sometimes I do that anyway, and sometimes I get to keep loving the book afterwards, and other times I never ever pick it up again. And if ever there were a book that made me feel like keeping secrets, it's this one – because one of the most prominent parts of the story is the disruption of the intimate communion between human and God by scepticism, fear and doubt. So having said too much already, I'm just going to say that I love it.
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
C.S. Lewis wrote a riveting retelling of the classic story of Cupid and Psyche, but also an incredible tale about love and religion and the questions and subsequently lost/found answers surrounding it. Gorgeous prose by Lewis, narrated by Orual, Psyche's uglier sister. I love how her character and how she was written and fleshed out. She was so deeply human and mortal and her queries and calls of the gods' unfairness echo deep and strong.
I can't get over certain passages from the book, but one of the most stirring—if not the most—was the part where the title of the novel came from:
“When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to stutter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”
I can't get over certain passages from the book, but one of the most stirring—if not the most—was the part where the title of the novel came from:
“When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to stutter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
top 5 books of all time. goes unbelievably crazy especially part 2. maybe the best book ever written about a woman by a man, up there with anna k. everybody say thank you joy davidman lewis!!