Editor's pick
Books
Culture
Sin
5 min read

Status, grievance and resentment: C.S. Lewis on the surprisingly modern business model of hell

60 years after its author’s death, The Screwtape Letters image of hell as an unscrupulous business is still relevant. Simon Horobin tells how C.S. Lewis came to author the influential bestseller.

Simon Horobin is Professor of English Language & Literature, Magdalen College, Oxford University.

A comic book style cartoon of a small squat devil looking quizzed in hell.
A scene from Marvel Comic's version of The Screwtape Letters.

November 22nd is the sixtieth anniversary of the death of C.S. Lewis, an event that was overshadowed by the assassination of JFK on the same day. Although he is best known today as the author of the Narnia stories, the obituary that appeared in The Times newspaper a few days later noted that it was in fact The Screwtape Letters which sparked his success as a writer. 

Initially published as a series of letters in the church newspaper The Guardian, The Screwtape Letters appeared in book form in 1942. The idea came to Lewis during an uninspiring sermon at Lewis’s local parish church in the Oxford suburb of Headington, in July 1940. Provisionally titled ‘As one Devil to Another’, the book would form a series of letters addressed to a novice devil, called Wormwood, beginning work on tempting his first patient, by an older, retired devil, called Screwtape. In finding Screwtape’s voice, Lewis was influenced by a speech given by Adolf Hitler at the Reichstag and broadcast by the BBC. What struck Lewis about the oration was how easy it was, while listening to the Führer speaking, to find oneself wavering just a little.  

Lewis dedicated the volume to his friend and fellow Oxford academic, J.R.R. Tolkien. After Lewis’s death, having read an obituary in the Daily Telegraph claiming that Lewis was never fond of the book, Tolkien noted drily:  

‘He dedicated it to me. I wondered why. Now I know.’  

Despite Tolkien’s misgivings, the public devoured the work and it quickly became a bestseller. Although, as Lewis pointed out, numbers of sales can be misleading. A probationer nurse who had read the book told Lewis that she had chosen it from a list of set texts of which she had been told to read one in order to mention it at an interview. ‘And you chose Screwtape?’, said Lewis with some pride. ‘Well, of course’, she replied, ‘it was the shortest’.  

Not all readers approved of its sentiments. A country clergyman wrote to the editor of The Guardian withdrawing his subscription on the grounds that much of the advice the letters offered seemed to him not only erroneous but positively diabolical. The confusion no doubt arose from the lack of any explanation surrounding their circumstances; in a later preface Lewis gave more context, though refused to explain how this devilish correspondence had come into his hands.  

Its publication by Macmillan in 1943 brought Lewis to the attention of readers in the United States; when Time magazine featured an interview with him in September 1947, it carried the title ‘Don v. Devil’. A picture of Lewis featured on the magazine’s cover, with a comic image of Satan, complete with horns, elongated nose and chin, and clutching a pitchfork, standing on his shoulder. 

For Lewis, the war did not present a radically different situation, but rather aggravated and clarified the human condition so that it could no longer be ignored. 

The Screwtape Letters are the product of the war years, during which Lewis wrote many of his most popular works. It was in 1941 that he delivered the first of his broadcasts for the BBC Home Service, which launched his career as a public apologist for the Christian faith. In 1942 Lewis published Perelandra, the sequel to his first space travel novel Out of the Silent Planet (1938), in which his hero, Elwin Ransom, a Cambridge philologist – another nod to Tolkien – is summoned to Venus to prevent a second fall. Although it was published in 1950, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe begins with four children being evacuated to the countryside to escape the London blitz. In setting his stories in outer-space or the fantastical world of Narnia, Lewis could be accused of writing escapist fiction that avoided the realities of a world in conflict. Lewis, however, believed that the war had not created a new crisis, but rather brought into clearer focus an ever-present struggle between good and evil.  

For Lewis, the war did not present a radically different situation, but rather aggravated and clarified the human condition so that it could no longer be ignored. As he remarked in the second of his Broadcast Talks:  

‘Enemy-occupied territory – that is what this world is. Christianity is the story of how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us all to take part in a great campaign of sabotage’.  

The key point, writes Screwtape, is to fix the patient’s attention on ‘real life’ – but don’t let him question what he means by ‘real’. 

Lewis’s message to a country living in fear of occupation by German troops was that the invasion had already happened. They had been summoned not to their country’s defence, but to its liberation. When the Pevensie children stumble into a snow-covered Narnia under the control of the tyrannical White Witch, they are told in hushed whispers of the rumours of Aslan’s return: ‘“They say Aslan is on the move—perhaps has already landed.”’ It is a reminder that Aslan enters Narnia as a rebel, intent on overthrowing the Witch and installing the rightful kings and queens on the thrones of Cair Paravel.  

The Screwtape Letters do not ignore the war during which they were written; Wormwood’s patient is killed in the London bombing. But, for Screwtape, a war is of no value unless it results in winning souls for his Father Below. His advice to his nephew is concerned with diverting the patient from engaging with universal questions by distracting him with everyday preoccupations and sense experiences. While these might involve the immediate conflict, they could also be the excitement of a new romance, a falling out with a friend, the prospect of promotion, or an obsession with food. If the patient should begin to speculate about spiritual matters, Screwtape advises Wormwood to deflect him with academic theories and philosophies that avoid confronting the question of whether the Christian faith might actually be true. The key point, writes Screwtape, is to fix the patient’s attention on ‘real life’ – but don’t let him question what he means by ‘real’. It is ironic, Screwtape observes, that, while mortals typically picture devils putting ideas into their minds, their best work is done by keeping things out.  

Despite numerous requests for sequels, Lewis was reluctant to twist his mind back into the ‘diabolical attitude’ and revisit the spiritual cramp it produced. Numerous spin-offs have appeared to fill the void, with Screwtape emails, audio and stage performances and even a Marvel comic book adaptation. Despite this, readers continue to turn to the original work. After all, Lewis’s depiction of hell as an unscrupulous business concern, whose employees are perpetually concerned about their own status, nursing grievances and resentment, speaks to our modern age just as much as it did to Lewis’s own. 

Article
Care
Culture
Economics
Generosity
4 min read

Parenthood Inc: high burn rate, infinite upside

Raising kids is the ultimate moonshot, with returns measured in love, not cashflow

Imogen is a writer, mum, and priest on a new housing development in the South-West of England. 

A baby sleeps curled up.
Sorena.
Hessam Nabavi on Unsplash

Even before they are born, they demand things – a bed or two, Babygros, the cute paraphernalia, like the baby bath used for a few months then outgrown. And, as they grow, they only get more expensive.  

Children apparently cost us over £14,000 a year. According to the Child Poverty Action Group's annual survey, children cost couples £260,000 to raise to adulthood, while the bill rises to £280,000 for a single parent. That is a lot of money. The spread of these costs is heavily weighted towards the early years of a child’s life. Initial set-up, as with many new ventures, is expensive and the list of seemingly essential items is extensive. Childcare during the pre-school years can also up the household bills by £200 per week, causing many parents to question whether work is ‘worth it’. 

It seems though, that it is not only returning to work that is uneconomical. In fact, having babies full stop doesn’t appear to be an economically attractive option. Over the last 15 years, birth rates in the UK have significantly declined. In 2024 the average number of live children a women would have during her life was down to 1.41. UK fertility is low. People are just not having babies. 

There are many reasons for this. Access to contraception, women’s increased equality and opportunity in the workplace, and concerns about finances mean that couples wait longer to begin a family than in previous generations. People in their twenties are perhaps more interested in financial stability rather than family procreativity and women want to get ahead in their chosen career paths before taking time out to have children. Everything has got more expensive, including having children. The world is a big place and desire for travel, adventure, and exploration means couples do not want to be ‘tied down’ with children while they are young.  

The impact of having a child on a woman’s career has been shown to be significantly greater than her male counterpart. I observe mothers, anecdotally and statistically, to be more likely to take time out of work, move to part-time employment, and work in lower-income jobs, than fathers. This is not only something observable in the UK, but it is a universal feature of motherhood. Perhaps becoming a mother is just not ‘worth it’.  

Many concerns about declining birth rates often come down to economics. Without the next generation of workers, our welfare state is headed for stormy seas. An aging society risks a nation flooded with retired dependants without the balance of the tax-paying, working population to support them. Although children are expensive, they are of integral economic value to our functioning society. Even on a micro level, children are increasingly keeping aging parents afloat, supporting them by contributing to the living, housing, and caring costs.  

 Opinions inevitably differ and cause controversy, but for me, the rational economics of parenthood does not contribute to my desire to have children. I do not see our children as a financial investment awaiting a hefty return. I have not embarked on procreation as a means to a stable retirement. Rightly or wrongly, I have not undertaken a cost-benefit analysis of having children. However, I understand it to have great value beyond the numbers. 

To play a part in raising the next generation is one of my life’s greatest joys. To slow down and witness our boys learning the world day by day is an act of resistance against those rational laws of economic productivity and market capitalism. Much of my time does not appear to be ‘well spent’, but in the giggles, the endless mealtimes, the repeated instructions of ‘sit down’, ‘be gentle’, and ‘listen’, there are deep wells of meaning and significance. While some choose to focus on the pouring of economic resources into their children, I choose to focus on the outpouring of my heart. As I give of myself, they grow. I love them, feed them, teach them, wash them at bathtime, and tell them stories of the world, of faith, and of life. As I am poured out, they are formed as tiny humans of unquantifiable value.  

This kind of value, I think, reflects more accurately the value we have before God. Our value as children of God. There is a story about a man who sees a pearl. The pearl is super expensive. This man wants the pearl so much that he sells his possessions, giving everything up so he can have it. Perhaps the pearl is God’s Kingdom, perhaps it is the message of Jesus, or perhaps, as my son once thought, it is us. We are the pearl of infinite, unquantifiable value to God and he gave up everything for us. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Support Seen & Unseen
Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief