The many-coloured furnace of the short-lived evening was kindled all about him. In a few minutes it would be pitch black . . . and the islands were drifting apart. Speaking slowly in that ancient language, he cried out to her, “I am a stranger. I come in peace. Is it your will that I swim over to your land?”

The Green Lady looked quickly at him with an expression of curiosity.

“What is peace?” she asked.

Ransom could have danced with impatience.

— from Perelandra by C.S. Lewis, 1944

Perelandra is not the usual type of book I would read. I almost didn’t read it. The beginning was too weird. But I kept going and it got weirder. A trip to Venus, a devil in the body of an old colleague, an Eve-type woman in an Eden-type situation, fixed lands and floating lands . . . soon I was admiring C.S. Lewis for his imagination. I don’t always get along with C.S. Lewis books; he seems to think on a different wave-length than I do. But I stuck with him, and I enjoyed the journey to Venus. I liked the different symbols and matching Earth’s history against this early history of Venus’ occupants. I did get mad at the villain. He was too horrible.


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