C.S. Lewis never imagined the lasting influence he would have. “After I’ve been dead five years,” he told his friend Owen Barfield, “no one will read anything I’ve written.” Proving the old prof wrong, last month we marked the forty-ninth year of his passing, and Lewis is read today perhaps more than ever.
Still, this is a reasonable thought for an author. Books are not immortal. They rarely live beyond the generation of their author and earliest readers, and usually they die much sooner than that.
Read Full Article »