TO CYNTHIA DONNELLY, who
had asked C S Lewis about being a Christian writer: On good work rather than
good works.
14 August 1954
Thank you for your most kind and
encouraging letter. I think you have a mistaken idea of a Christian writer’s
duty. We must use the talent we have, not the talents we haven’t. We must not of course write
anything that will flatter lust, pride or ambition. But we needn’t all write
patently moral or theological work. Indeed, work whose Christianity is latent
may do quite as much good and may reach some whom the more obvious religious
work would scare away.
The first business of a story is to be
a good
story.
When Our Lord made a wheel in the carpenter shop, depend upon it: It was first
and foremost a good wheel. Don’t try to ‘bring in’ specifically Christian
bits: if God wants you to serve him in that way (He may not: there are
different vocations), you will find it coming in of its own accord. If not,
well—a good story which will give innocent pleasure is a good thing, just like
cooking a good nourishing meal. (You don’t put little texts in your family
soup, I’ll be bound.)
By the way, none of my stories began with a Christian
message. I always start from a mental picture—the floating islands, a faun with
an umbrella in a snowy wood, an ‘injured’ human head. Of course my non-fiction
works are different. But they succeed because I’m a professional teacher and
explanation happens to be one of the things I’ve learned to do.
But the great thing is to cultivate one’s
own garden, to do well the job which one’s own natural capacities point out
(after first doing well whatever the ‘duties of one’s station’ impose). Any honest workmanship
(whether making stories, shoes, or rabbit hutches) can be done to the glory of
God. . . .
