The Dream of a Ridiculous Man / C.S. Lewis

[Mogwai]

How do you guys think this short story compares with C.S. Lewis's 'The Great Divorce'?  I think there are a lot of similarities and was just wondering if maybe Lewis was influenced by it when he wrote 'The Great Divorce'.  Or for that matter, was Lewis influenced at all by Dostoevsky?  Did he read D?

[Stavrokin]

 :oI read this short stroy two years ago
at the begining the man tell himself he is going to commit suicide, which is very similar to Camus' saying, whether man should kill himself.

through a 'ridiculous' dream, the man give up this idea while through the philosophical essay, Camus build the meaning of live on 'ridiculousness'.


what's the title of Camus' book in English?

some one can tell me?

[Ivan]

I believe the title of the book / essay is "The Myth of Sisyphus."

[Alyosha]

Can anyone recommend a good non-children's book by C.S. Lewis?

I am curious as to how he is related to Dostoevsky. I always thought he tried to be more like Milton.

[Mogwai]

The only 'children's books' that C.S. Lewis wrote were the Narnia series, I believe.  He had many books dealing with apologetics and I fear Ivan doesn't give him the sheer intellectual credit he deserves.

Some must reads by C.S. Lewis:
-The Screwtape Letters
-The Great Divorce (Similar to The Dream of a...)
-Mere Christianity
-The Four Loves

[Mitya]

Okay, Fyodor, I've just gone through Dream of a Ridiculous Man and have long held the Great Divorce as one of my favorite books, so I've been looking forward to discussing the books in this topic. What are the "lots" of similarities you see? I'll have to think about Dream for a while... maybe a couple of days... before I can really get beyond the superficial settings, ie, both books have narrators who dream of interesting experiences in Heaven...

I think C.S. Lewis probably did read D, and it influenced him, but he was able to take The Great Divorce and make a completely different point with it. (To me, The Great Divorce is principally an exploration of the reasons nonChristians give for not becoming Christians.)

I found it so interesting that the Ridiculous Man corrupted those in heaven... that was a great twist... I hate that it was so open-ended as to leave it vague what the Ridiculous Man had done... or maybe I'm just missing something?

[lerik]

Can anyone recommend a good non-children's book by C.S. Lewis?

I am curious as to how he is related to Dostoevsky. I always thought he tried to be more like Milton.

I have read
"The abolition of the man"
"Till we have faces"
"The great divorce"
"The four loves"
and his letters
Try reading these books.Hope you like them

[poor knight]

I've just joined this group. I was on a Yahoo one a few years back before it mysteriously went "poof." I'm glad to have found a new home.

Please give me one pass as a new member for posting such a long reply.

In Lewis' book "Surprised by Joy," an autobiography of sorts, he exhaustiely describes the authors he read most, FD included. If there is one thing that ties the two men together most, to me it is that concept: "Joy"

Lewis defined joy differently than we might. He says it is "The indescribable longing to be part of someting beautiful." It can be painful, aching, and even sad, but it's something we'd trade years of life for a moment's expereince of it.

FD captures the essence perfectly in the following passage from The Idiot, as Myshkin dreams about a time when he was at the asylum:

"An old, forgotten memory awoke in his brain, and suddenly burst into clearness and light. It was a recollection of Switzerland, during the first year of his cure, the very first months. At that time he had been pretty nearly an idiot still; he could not speak properly, and had difficulty in understanding when others spoke to him. He climbed the mountain-side, one sunny morning, and wandered long and aimlessly with a certain thought in his brain, which would not become clear. Above him was the blazing sky, below, the lake; all around was the horizon, clear and infinite. He looked out upon this, long and anxiously. He remembered how he had stretched out his arms towards the beautiful, boundless blue of the horizon, and wept, and wept. What had so tormented him was the idea that he was a stranger to all this, that he was outside this glorious festival.

What was this universe? What was this grand, eternal pageant to which he had yearned from his childhood up, and in which he could never take part? Every morning the same magnificent sun; every morning the same rainbow in the waterfall; every evening the same glow on the snow-mountains.

Every little fly that buzzed in the sun's rays was a singer in the universal chorus, "knew its place, and was happy in it. "Every blade of grass grew and was happy. Everything knew its path and loved it, went forth with a song and returned with a song; only he knew nothing, understood nothing, neither men nor words, nor any of nature's voices; he was a stranger and an outcast.

Oh, he could not then speak these words, or express all he felt! He had been tormented dumbly; but now it appeared to him that he must have said these very words--even then--and that Hippolyte must have taken his picture of the little fly from his tears and words of that time."