Day 13: Friendzoned by C.S. Lewis

Many know C.S. Lewis from the Narnia series, or his Christian apologetic works. But, fewer people are acquainted with the written work of his wife, Joy Davidman Gresham. A communist American, former atheist who became Christian after reading C.S. Lewis’ Christian works…she fell in love with him shortly after her visit to England in 1951(?). She ended up moving to England with her two sons (and divorced her abusive and cheating husband – who, by the way, cheated on her with her cousin)…where she tried to make a new life for herself. Their love story has a bittersweet ending, but what I find HILARIOUS is that for several years she had to endure being FRIENDZONED by Lewis. In that time, she wrote several sonnets about him, or addressed to him. I love her brazen style.

XXIX
There was a man who found a naked tree
Sleeping in winter woods, and brought her home.
And tended her a month in charity
Until she woke, and filled his quiet room

With petals like a storm of silver light,
Bursting, blazing, blended all of pearl
And moonshine; he, in wonder and delight,
Patted her magic boughs and said: Good girl.

Thereafter, still obedient to the summer,
The tree worked at her trade, until behold
A summer miracle of red and gold,
Apples of the Hesperides upon her,
Sweeter than Eden and its vanished bowers…
He said: No, no, I only wanted flowers. – 1954/55?

XI
You have such reasons for not loving me
As would persuade the sunfire to go out,
Divorce the moon from the obedient sea,
Make rain fall upward, head the rose to flout

The amorous honeybees, and talk the wind
Out of a wandering life; as would compel
Satan to consort with angel kind
And Gabriel to wallow deep in hell.

The argument that keeps the sun in power
Over his children, makes the firefly glow,
Adorns the summer with her proper flower
And decorates the winter with his snow,

Makes dead men rise and promises come true –
Such reasons do I have for loving you – 2/14/53

XVIII
I think, my lad, you learn your charity
By rote and not by heart. ’Tis very well
For flights of angels, as I hear you tell,
To shower love on all men equally;

But you and I were made for other ends,
And you are something short of angel yet;
And if you smile upon the thing you hate,
‘This kinder to your enemies than friends.

Love universal is love spread too thin
To keep a mortal warm; and when you wear
One smile for all, you freeze me with despair;
For my poor woman’s wits cannot begin

To know if I’m a pleasure or a bore;
Less charity, my angel, might be more. – 2/23/1954

Love,
February