The Inklings Option: Many Meetings

Part One of The Inklings Option

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A Scene at the Eagle and Child

The scene continues.

In the hushed ambiance of The Eagle and Child, Lewis, deep in contemplation, took a deliberate pause, savoring a leisurely draw from his pipe. A warm, dim glow enveloped the oak-paneled walls, casting a soft, golden hue on the worn but inviting furniture. Hugo Dyson, with a cheerful smile, locked eyes with Tolkien, while Owen Barfield's inquisitive eyebrow and Charles Williams' deliberate gesture of cleaning his glasses added a touch of intrigue to the scene.

"In the crafting of this mythic ring, you intend to captivate the very soul with the essence of goodness, truth, and beauty, aiming to shatter this enchantment," Lewis mused.

Tolkien, his eyes sparkling with childlike delight, burst with enthusiasm, "Indeed! It is a grander, stronger enchantment. It involves unveiling hidden beauties of word and deed, outshining the wickedness that has at present ensnared the imagination of the world."

“That seems a bit esoteric. I quite like it,” laughed Williams.

With a scowl, Tolkien quipped, “It is not at all esoteric in the sense you mean it, Charles. That diabolism . . . ”

Lewis interjected, “No. You aim to release the reader's chains and guide them out of the cave to behold the sun.”

The air in the pub echoed with laughter as Tolkien responded, “Bless me. Is it not all in Plato, Jack?”

“Indeed, it is. It’s all in Plato, Tollers,” Lewis affirmed.

The resonance of their words blended seamlessly with the whispers of the pub. The scene comes to an end.

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Introduction

In this inaugural essay, my objectives are straightforward. I aim to provide a brief introduction to The Inklings. If you've reached this point, you likely require only a concise overview. Additionally, I aim to acquaint you with the issue that The Inklings identified in their era and how their literary works were aimed at remedying it. As is often the case, the most appropriate place to begin is at the beginning.

The Inklings were an informal literary discussion group that met at Oxford in the 1930s-1940s. While various members cycled in and out, it seems that the heart of the group was C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Together, they welcomed like-minded individuals to join their gatherings, where participants read their works aloud and engaged in constructive critique. Despite the absence of formal roles or documented agendas, their meetings evolved into regular events — Tuesday mornings at The Eagle and Child or Thursday evenings in Lewis' rooms at Magdalen College. Alongside Lewis and Tolkien, key figures included Owen Barfield, a literary critic and philosopher handling Lewis' legal matters who is remembered as the first and last Inkling, Charles Williams, an editor for Oxford University Press, and Hugo Dyson, an academic instrumental in Lewis' conversion to Christianity with Tolkien's support.

What most people don’t know, however, is that this group saw themselves doing something quite extraordinary.

While it’s true that The Inklings cherished the camaraderie they shared, their many meetings were more than mere literary exchanges. Indeed, they were like a fellowship, collectively honing their literary works into potent weapons of beauty. These works were sent out into the world to pierce the dark Sarumanic heart of an enemy that had ensnared the imagination of the world. They believed that by infusing the world with beauty, they could reform their nation by steering it toward the True Harbor.

This naturally prompts the question: What evil did they perceive themselves combating? Fortunately, The Inklings were explicit about the adversary they were contending against.