My love for Oxford is drawn exclusively from the writings of Lewis and Vanauken. Oxford of today is somewhat different. Fifty years on, I'm sure there is a lot more traffic... and a lot more people. But enough of their Oxford remains that one can recognise it.
I like doing this kind of thing; I'm not sure why. In some way it is deeply satisfying; connecting the threads of influence from then to now. They were here... and now I am. They saw this view... and now I see it. They ate here... and now I do. And so on. It becomes a way of paying tribute to heroes, acknowledging the debt, sharing my gratitude for who they were, and for what they have made of me because they took the time to record their discoveries and experiences and lessons learned as they made their way through their lives.
My heart was very full, and completely at peace. As I wandered around there was a peculiar sense of time merging, then and now becoming one. I found myself wondering whether I was the ghost in their present, or whether they were the ghosts in mine. Either way, they seemed very much with me as I explored 'their' Oxford, their books and my camera close at hand.In reality, I was born the year after C.S.Lewis died, and many years after Sheldon Vanauken, with Davy, his wife, had spent his three short years as a student at Oxford University.
I started off at The Kilns, in Headingly, where C.S.Lewis had lived with his brother 'Warnie'.I stood outside, suddenly tearful - so many books. So many wonderful books. And Narnia. Who and what would I be without Narnia?
I first read a Narnia Chronicle when I was twelve. I had been ill, and my mother, always a keen and avid reader, had bought me a pile of second hand books to keep me occupied. 'The Horse and His Boy' was one of them. At that time I did not know that there were more Narnia books. But I read and reread the adventures of Shasta and Bree until I knew chunks of the text by heart. It is still my favourite of the Narnia stories.
Later, much later, married and with two little children, our good friend Sam bought us the collected Narnia Chronicles. What a feast! My children grew up on Narnia. Again, these books were read and reread, until at last Craig and I bought Radio Theatre's recorded versions of the stories so that the children could listen to them for themselves on CD. There are not many months that go by, even now, without some sound of Aslan, Peter, Edmund, Lucy or Susan. Aslan is huge, real, forever - exactly as He should be. He rights all wrongs and turns up to save when all is lost. He has done much to build a sense of security for my children in today's hazardous world.
So I stood for a while, outside C.S. Lewis' home, looking at the windows and door of the small room in which he wrote these books. Thinking about writing - how it comes, birthed out of an idea, taking on life and form, changing and impacting people one may never get to meet in any other way. It is a big mystery this....
Later, I drove to Holy Trinity, Headington- the church C.S. Lewis attended, and where he is buried. Another time of full heart and quiet reflection. Thinking about how it is that the ripples of our lives spread out to others.We may think that our small lives are not terribly important, but they are. Lewis died in November 1963. I was born in February 1964. And yet he touched my life in such a way that today I went in search of his grave.... and it meant a lot to me to find it.
In my life, C.S. Lewis would possibly have remained the author of Narnia and nothing more, if it had not been for a gift received when I was in my early twenties. This gift was a small book with a yellow cover, a photograph of a girl, and a rather peculiar comment written above it - something about 'C.S. Lewis and a pagan love invaded by Christ, as told by one of the lovers.' That piqued my curiosity, although I thought it a rather stupid comment, and said so - but it was enough to make me read the book. Philip, our friend, said it was a very important book. I read it, dry eyed, and liked it and thought that was the end of the matter. But no, Philip was right. It was - and remains - a very important book. Because of Philip's disappointment that I seemed so little affected by 'A Severe Mercy', I went back and read it again, more reflectively - and now the tears came, and Sheldon became my friend and companion. And with him, C.S. Lewis.
Looking back over the life one has lived, there are things that stand out, 'moments made eternity', impressions that remain. At the time their importance may not have been noted; with hindsight you know that this was definitive, life changing, direction setting. This is what happened with 'A Severe Mercy'. This is why I love Oxford. This is why, I can't really think of Lewis without Vanauken and vice versa. Or about Oxford without the three of them... and Dom Julian Stead, whose beautiful book of poetry I was later to hunt down and purchase for a ridiculous price...
Sheldon Vanauken and his wife, Davy, had spent three happy years in Oxford. The chapter about this part of their lives is very beautiful. It is a glimpse of an Oxford, captured like a photograph and it allows the rest of us, who may never have enjoyed the privilege of being students at Oxford in the fifties, to feel what it was like. It was also during this time that first Davy, and then Sheldon, converted from atheism to Christianity.
Vanauken relates how, the last time he saw C.S. Lewis, just a few months before his death, they had parted in the High Street. They parted, Lewis had crossed the road, and then he turned and shouted back in his loud voice "Christians never say 'goodbye'!" Walking up the High Street, I thought of it. Felt as if I could hear the echoes still in the noise of traffic. Christians never say 'Goodbye'! We don't need to. So even today, ghost among ghosts, I am not saying 'Goodbye' to my friends; I am saying 'Hello'. Sharing a moment in anticipation of a time when we, maybe, will sit together over a drink and laugh and chat about it. Do they know I am here? Perhaps they do. And so we will laugh together and they will affectionately point out my little errors in perception of events and we will all be so full of joy to be together at last in the presence of Aslan.... Fantasies, but who knows.Because of 'A Severe Mercy', and the way it impacted my thinking, my life and my marriage, I followed obscure directions to a tiny village called Binsey. There, I stopped for a while at a pub frequented by both C.S. Lewis, and the Vanaukens, called The Perch. This is an interesting and historic place, full of atmosphere, right by the river. It was here that Lewis Carroll first gave public readings of 'Alice in Wonderland'.
From here, I could see the meadows across which they would have walked from the University. Apparently, this pastureland was originally given to the Freemen of Oxford by King Alfred in return for fighting Danish invaders in the 10th century. And to this day the Freemen of Oxford exercise their ancient rights to graze cattle and horses on the land and to fish in the river!So of course I photographed the cows, and then I drove out along the track towards the tiny church of Binsey - a place that Sheldon and Davy loved so much that some of their ashes are scattered in the churchyard.
I was a little confused, because the book mentioned a track lined with Beech trees, but there were no trees here. I looked closely at the hedges... and there they were. Just stumps. On the corner, there was just one remaining tree. At some point the rest had all been cut down. Suddenly I was glad they were not here to see it. 
But the church was the same, I think. It doesn't look like things change much here. Tucked away amongst trees, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, this place is a tranquil little oasis. It is strange to think that busy traffic is thundering past on the A34, just a field away. I could hear it.
Finally, I ended up at the Eagle and Child pub, where C.S.Lewis, J.J.R. Tolkein and the other Inklings met. They called it the 'Bird and Baby', and it was a favourite and regular meeting place. And across the road is the Lamb and Flag, a favourite pub of the Vanaukens. 
The pub is small and it was very crowded with students, but I was determined to stay for a while. I sat there drinking sparkling water, feeling very happy.
It had been a very good day, a day of learning and discovery and - of course - remembrance.
Ah Studio! We'll meet again
It won't be gaslight in the lane,
But just as gentle, only brighter.
And Jack on Aslan's back.
We'll sing His glory
Around those two: One Love-truth
Old World will give one final 'crack!'
Our hearts could not be lighter.
(Dom Julian Stead)
