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A Severe Mercy
Beloved, profoundly moving account of the author's marriage, the couple's search for faith and friendship with C. S. Lewis, and a spiritual strength that sustained Vanauken after his wife's untimely death.
242 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1977
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,097 reviews
March 3, 2009
A Severe Mercy can almost be called a foreshadowing of A Grief Observed. But of course that is only from our perspective looking back on the four lives involved. Sheldon Vanauken wrote A Severe Mercy about the love of his life, Jean "Davy" Palmer Davis. It's a beautiful love story, one of the most idyllic I've ever read, perhaps too idyllic, but poignant and breathtaking all the same. The book traces their relationship from courtship through the early pagan (the author's term) years of marriage to the meeting and eventual friendship with C.S.Lewis who was instrumental in their eventual conversion to Christianity.
While I enjoyed the book very much, as a woman and a mother, I did constantly wonder (as I read the book) at their decision not to have children. The author announces this fact early on in their pagan years which the couple dubbed, "The Shining Barrier", presumably a barrier of love which they erected around themselves to protect themselves from the outside world. Later, however, when they converted to Christianity, there was no mention they ever revisited this decision. Davy was still young enough at the time to bear children. I couldn't help thinking and wondering if -- as time went by -- the desire to become a mother didn't occasionally tug at her heart. Vanauken never mentions it and at the end of the book he describes burning her diaries.
In an interesting aside however, Lewis does chastize his friend, and very severely too, for the couple's decision to exclude children from their marriage, but only some time after Davy's death.
Two of the many delights in this book are numerous beautiful poems the author wrote to his beloved bride and a large collection of letters from C.S. Lewis.
An excellent autobiography of Love. Beautifully written tribute to Davy as well; I only wish I heard more of her voice.
While I enjoyed the book very much, as a woman and a mother, I did constantly wonder (as I read the book) at their decision not to have children. The author announces this fact early on in their pagan years which the couple dubbed, "The Shining Barrier", presumably a barrier of love which they erected around themselves to protect themselves from the outside world. Later, however, when they converted to Christianity, there was no mention they ever revisited this decision. Davy was still young enough at the time to bear children. I couldn't help thinking and wondering if -- as time went by -- the desire to become a mother didn't occasionally tug at her heart. Vanauken never mentions it and at the end of the book he describes burning her diaries.
In an interesting aside however, Lewis does chastize his friend, and very severely too, for the couple's decision to exclude children from their marriage, but only some time after Davy's death.
Two of the many delights in this book are numerous beautiful poems the author wrote to his beloved bride and a large collection of letters from C.S. Lewis.
An excellent autobiography of Love. Beautifully written tribute to Davy as well; I only wish I heard more of her voice.
January 12, 2019
I’ve rarely read a more moving, beautiful reflection on faith, life, death, grief, and eternity. It stirred my heart and opened my eyes. Tremendous book.
August 17, 2008
In Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim, David Sedaris tells of a time he was at a movie with his partner, Hugh. They were watching The End of the Affair, and Hugh was completely taken by the drama and was weeping. David, bored, whispered, "I can't wait until she dies." Hugh was aghast.
I had heard that A Severe Mercy was about a married couple, madly in love, and that thier faith and marriage are tested by the wife (Davy) converting to Christianity and therefore loving God more than her husband, and her subsequent illness and death. I personally did not find their initial love story endearing, I thought it stifling. They decide that they would spend all of their time together, and if one had interests that the other did not share, the uninterested party had to go along and take part anyway so that there would be no secrets. They write each other annoying poems and call each other cutesy names, ad nauseum, and then they decide to both explore Christianity together and start by reading C. S. Lewis' books. The husband finishes one of the books and writes a letter to Lewis, who writes back. On that point I am wild with envy. Davy is far ahead on the spiritual walk and eventually leaves the husband behind, who makes a profession of faith of sorts shortly after. Now their annoying story includes going to church, holding Bible studies and singing hymns in the night. At this point in the story I invoked David Sedaris, paging ahead to when she will become sick and die, since I was hoping at that point the story would become more interesting. It did not. If anything, it became even more trite and maudlin. After she finally dies, Sheldon imagines what would have happened had Davy lived, and surmises that either their love would have died, or he with his lesser faith would have dragged Davy down and made her less of a believer. Therefore, God showed his "severe mercy" in taking Davy, thereby preserving their love for all eternity and also calling Davy home while her faith is strong. HUH?
Am I the only person on Goodreads who found this book to be a complete disappointment, despite the fact that letters from C. S. Lewis are included in the narrative?
I had heard that A Severe Mercy was about a married couple, madly in love, and that thier faith and marriage are tested by the wife (Davy) converting to Christianity and therefore loving God more than her husband, and her subsequent illness and death. I personally did not find their initial love story endearing, I thought it stifling. They decide that they would spend all of their time together, and if one had interests that the other did not share, the uninterested party had to go along and take part anyway so that there would be no secrets. They write each other annoying poems and call each other cutesy names, ad nauseum, and then they decide to both explore Christianity together and start by reading C. S. Lewis' books. The husband finishes one of the books and writes a letter to Lewis, who writes back. On that point I am wild with envy. Davy is far ahead on the spiritual walk and eventually leaves the husband behind, who makes a profession of faith of sorts shortly after. Now their annoying story includes going to church, holding Bible studies and singing hymns in the night. At this point in the story I invoked David Sedaris, paging ahead to when she will become sick and die, since I was hoping at that point the story would become more interesting. It did not. If anything, it became even more trite and maudlin. After she finally dies, Sheldon imagines what would have happened had Davy lived, and surmises that either their love would have died, or he with his lesser faith would have dragged Davy down and made her less of a believer. Therefore, God showed his "severe mercy" in taking Davy, thereby preserving their love for all eternity and also calling Davy home while her faith is strong. HUH?
Am I the only person on Goodreads who found this book to be a complete disappointment, despite the fact that letters from C. S. Lewis are included in the narrative?
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 6, 2016
I struggled with this book. I really enjoyed the letters from C.S. Lewis, but Vanauken's writing - and even his story in general - left me cold. There were a few well-written passages, but overall he was far too wordy and his descriptions of his virtually perfect wife and their life together seemed ridiculous, and finishing the book was not a joyful endeavor.
He reminds me of that guy you avoid at functions - he's got some good stories, but he talks on far too long and has a very high opinion of himself and all he's accomplished.
I finished the book with a sigh of relief. And then I started wondering whether he was truly even a Christian. He makes a declaration of faith, but never seems to fully commit. As he's grieving his wife's passing, he comes to realize that perhaps her death was good thing in that he never attempted to "damage or lessen her commitment to God" - but earlier in the book he admits to being jealous of the time she spends reading her Bible, and I cannot think she was unaware of this.
Bottom line, I'm really glad it's over. I cannot think of a single circumstance that would ever make me recommend this book to another person. Please just read the quotes shared by others and move along...
Read for Modern Mrs. Darcy 2016 challenge - book that you own but have not read
He reminds me of that guy you avoid at functions - he's got some good stories, but he talks on far too long and has a very high opinion of himself and all he's accomplished.
I finished the book with a sigh of relief. And then I started wondering whether he was truly even a Christian. He makes a declaration of faith, but never seems to fully commit. As he's grieving his wife's passing, he comes to realize that perhaps her death was good thing in that he never attempted to "damage or lessen her commitment to God" - but earlier in the book he admits to being jealous of the time she spends reading her Bible, and I cannot think she was unaware of this.
Bottom line, I'm really glad it's over. I cannot think of a single circumstance that would ever make me recommend this book to another person. Please just read the quotes shared by others and move along...
Read for Modern Mrs. Darcy 2016 challenge - book that you own but have not read
August 4, 2023
💔Beautifully written. The man loses the dream love of his life to illness and it tears the heart out of his body. Yet he reaches out for spiritual help and succor to Jack (CS) Lewis who created the Chronicles of Narnia. Lewis responds at length and in depth by means of 18 letters. A profound and moving work.
October 21, 2018
This book is the story of a remarkable and true love story between the author and his wife. Their paths lead them to Yale and then to Oxford, where they become friends with C.S. Lewis. Eventually, they end up in Lynchburg, VA, when Vanauken becomes a professor of English at Lynchburg College.
A line from this book ended up in one of my favourite Bruce Cockburn songs, "Fascist Architecture." See if you can find it.
A line from this book ended up in one of my favourite Bruce Cockburn songs, "Fascist Architecture." See if you can find it.
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January 14, 2014I hated these people for much of the book, though I feel bad for that now. Ridiculous in their idealism. Tried to establish principles to live by, and broke other principles in establishing those. Also incorporated convenient traditional and Christian principles to support the ones they already wanted to follow. Then they broke those when convenient, often without noticing (but with me noticing, margin-scrawling in crumbling pencil).
Also this story was about romantic love, and I only like that when it's a simple story about two youngsters meeting, not when it's all about being in love with being in love. So there's my bias.
Also this story was about a romantic notion of beauty, and I dislike beauty b/c I'm jealous of everyone else who understands it. So there's my gigantic bias number two.
The writer is self-satisfied with having been C. S. Lewis's "friend", when his letters show a relationship more like professor-student, with a student who "got" some things. Good for him, but seems to flaunt it.
The author spends his life running away from what he could be doing, saying that he is living life to its fullest by being free to do as he wishes and when, and experiencing the beauty of nature and his mate and God. That might be an acceptable way to live for him, although I'm certain it is a bad way for some people, but he wrongly implies it is better for everyone.
Having said all that.
I did see some beauty, as I stayed as open to it as I can be (which was not very). And I liked some of what I saw through him. And I saw the value of the emotions that come from the beauty, and how they might be connected. Any book the teaches me or opens me up gets at least three stars, no matter how much I'd like to be a judgmental ass and give it one or two.
But seriously, if you're interested in how Vonnegut's duprass would look in the real world, and you want to understand free spirits, and you want to see beauty and love, this book is rich in all of that.
Also, the author rewards you for paying attention to his words, which he highly values, by repeating certain themes, and I give props for some writing talent. And he looks into himself a bit, and explains why he acts certain ways, which also entertained me.
Also this story was about romantic love, and I only like that when it's a simple story about two youngsters meeting, not when it's all about being in love with being in love. So there's my bias.
Also this story was about a romantic notion of beauty, and I dislike beauty b/c I'm jealous of everyone else who understands it. So there's my gigantic bias number two.
The writer is self-satisfied with having been C. S. Lewis's "friend", when his letters show a relationship more like professor-student, with a student who "got" some things. Good for him, but seems to flaunt it.
The author spends his life running away from what he could be doing, saying that he is living life to its fullest by being free to do as he wishes and when, and experiencing the beauty of nature and his mate and God. That might be an acceptable way to live for him, although I'm certain it is a bad way for some people, but he wrongly implies it is better for everyone.
Having said all that.
I did see some beauty, as I stayed as open to it as I can be (which was not very). And I liked some of what I saw through him. And I saw the value of the emotions that come from the beauty, and how they might be connected. Any book the teaches me or opens me up gets at least three stars, no matter how much I'd like to be a judgmental ass and give it one or two.
But seriously, if you're interested in how Vonnegut's duprass would look in the real world, and you want to understand free spirits, and you want to see beauty and love, this book is rich in all of that.
Also, the author rewards you for paying attention to his words, which he highly values, by repeating certain themes, and I give props for some writing talent. And he looks into himself a bit, and explains why he acts certain ways, which also entertained me.
February 10, 2020
This was one of my top 5 favorite books I have ever read. It won’t be that way for everyone, but for my particular taste, it was nearly the perfect book. For the second time this month (Gulag Archipelago being the first) I feel entirely incapable of writing a review to do justice to this book. And this time, I basically won’t even try.
This book tells the story of a couple who falls in love with each other, then with Jesus years later, and then faces tragedy. The book is written by the husband, who also happens to be good friends with CS Lewis.
From a literary perspective, this book is absolutely beautiful, articulate, and at times, poetic. From an emotional perspective, you will feel unbelievable heights and depths alongside the author (I shed a tear). From a spiritual and wisdom standpoint, it is illuminating on topics such as longing, joy, and earthly and heavenly love.
I can’t say enough about this book, and with this review, I am certainly not saying enough. Just pick it up and read it yourself. Maybe you too will feel that it’s so good that it’s not even worth trying to review.
This book tells the story of a couple who falls in love with each other, then with Jesus years later, and then faces tragedy. The book is written by the husband, who also happens to be good friends with CS Lewis.
From a literary perspective, this book is absolutely beautiful, articulate, and at times, poetic. From an emotional perspective, you will feel unbelievable heights and depths alongside the author (I shed a tear). From a spiritual and wisdom standpoint, it is illuminating on topics such as longing, joy, and earthly and heavenly love.
I can’t say enough about this book, and with this review, I am certainly not saying enough. Just pick it up and read it yourself. Maybe you too will feel that it’s so good that it’s not even worth trying to review.
April 30, 2023
Douglas H. Gresham writes in his introduction to C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed that the article is one of the most important parts of the title. It is a grief, Lewis's grief, observed. It doesn't purport to express universal grief or attempt to explain the problem of pain. This is one man's unique pain. Yet by being vulnerable and open with his grief, Lewis connects with readers on a deeply emotional and human level. Walking with him through his individual grief gives the reader a deeper understanding of Grief itself.
If I had to take a stab at it, I would say that is the appeal of this memoir. It is a grief observed, different from Lewis's kind and unique to this particular relationship. It is a frequently maudlin, sentimental grief, full of sappy poetry I hope to never read again. But because of Vanauken's willingness to be open with his grief and explore his own emotions, the reader is left feeling more closely connected to the human experience.
This is also a book seeped in the philosophy of C.S. Lewis. And it isn't just because of the letters directly written by Lewis. (Some of which, particularly the ones about homosexuality, fit oddly with the overall themes of this book. But I think I get why they were included.) Whatever words Vanauken might have used to describe his life before faith while living it, he clearly frames it post-conversion the way Lewis would have. It was a pagan life. A search for joy and beauty much in the way Lewis frames his own search in Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. It just happens that Vanauken's journey occurred side-by-side with his wife.
There is much that could be said about the actual content of this memoir. It is kind of intriguing how much effort he and his wife put in to making the honeymoon period of their love last. It sounds downright smothering. (And, to my cynical soul, naïve.) But the heart of it, the hope, is genuine and striking.
I don't care for poetry and Vanauken's efforts aren't going to change my mind any time soon. But his genuine love for Oxford struck a cord with me. I remember the culture shock of returning to college after my one semester at New College. I can't imagine what it would be like to live there several years, discover Christ, and then return to the Bible Belt.
Overall, I would say I am genuinely glad I read this one and I am glad I did it all in one sitting. It has left me with lots to chew on. It isn't as good as reading C.S. Lewis directly, and for a memoir of faith set at Oxford I'd point you to Surprised by Oxford first, but it is worth adding to the to-read list. Vanauken wrestles with is the loss of young love. It is his grief—a grief—unique to him and full of the inside jokes and what-ifs that only he can carry. But because he opens up about it and shares his grief so openly, he allows others to walk with him in his grief and connect a bit more deeply with what it means to lose someone dear and hope for reunion in the future .
If I had to take a stab at it, I would say that is the appeal of this memoir. It is a grief observed, different from Lewis's kind and unique to this particular relationship. It is a frequently maudlin, sentimental grief, full of sappy poetry I hope to never read again. But because of Vanauken's willingness to be open with his grief and explore his own emotions, the reader is left feeling more closely connected to the human experience.
This is also a book seeped in the philosophy of C.S. Lewis. And it isn't just because of the letters directly written by Lewis. (Some of which, particularly the ones about homosexuality, fit oddly with the overall themes of this book. But I think I get why they were included.) Whatever words Vanauken might have used to describe his life before faith while living it, he clearly frames it post-conversion the way Lewis would have. It was a pagan life. A search for joy and beauty much in the way Lewis frames his own search in Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. It just happens that Vanauken's journey occurred side-by-side with his wife.
There is much that could be said about the actual content of this memoir. It is kind of intriguing how much effort he and his wife put in to making the honeymoon period of their love last. It sounds downright smothering. (And, to my cynical soul, naïve.) But the heart of it, the hope, is genuine and striking.
I don't care for poetry and Vanauken's efforts aren't going to change my mind any time soon. But his genuine love for Oxford struck a cord with me. I remember the culture shock of returning to college after my one semester at New College. I can't imagine what it would be like to live there several years, discover Christ, and then return to the Bible Belt.
Overall, I would say I am genuinely glad I read this one and I am glad I did it all in one sitting. It has left me with lots to chew on. It isn't as good as reading C.S. Lewis directly, and for a memoir of faith set at Oxford I'd point you to Surprised by Oxford first, but it is worth adding to the to-read list. Vanauken wrestles with is the loss of young love. It is his grief—a grief—unique to him and full of the inside jokes and what-ifs that only he can carry. But because he opens up about it and shares his grief so openly, he allows others to walk with him in his grief and connect a bit more deeply with what it means to lose someone dear and hope for reunion in the future .
December 9, 2023
The paradox of our faith: A grace that not only meets us in our pain, but requires it for grace’s taste to be yet sweeter. Vanauken pens this mingling of contradictions, beauty and suffering, in his account of coming to faith with his wife and then grieving her death soon after. His words are poetry and the truth is a glory that brought me to my knees.
March 2, 2024
Reread in 2024 to see if I still hated it. If not the worst book I’ve ever read, it was at least the most stressful.
___ ___ ___
My dear Whales,
When I die, mysteriously and tragically and young, the very last thing I want is for my heartbroken and grieving husband—widower, now—to write and publish a maudlin memoir about our relationship in which he quotes intimate things I wrote in our shared diary. So help me, it would not fare well for him.
But that is just what Sheldon Vanauken did to his dead wife, Davy, in his memoir A Severe Mercy, telling of their courtship, marriage, conversion to Christianity, and then his widowhood. It’s no wonder I do not like the guy; and though I was quite excited to read the book (for I wanted a tragic love story, and this one promised not only the setting of Oxford, but also the friendship of C.S. Lewis), I will freely admit I had decided I did not like it in the first twenty pages alone, and was then unable to read the remaining two hundred without an overly critical eye, ready to pounce on anything to add to the ever-growing list of problematic tidbits.
The biggest and most nauseating issue I have with it is the very philosophy of their relationship. It seems they feared falling out of love with one another—losing the “inloveness” of their “Shining Barrier” by “creeping separateness” threatened everywhere. (Those three phrases are used liberally throughout the book, as well as a thousand other examples of poetic verbiage. I will spare you.)
Consider this excerpt:
“Creeping separateness and sharing were opposite slides of one coin. We rejected separate activities, whether bridge or shooting or sailing because they would lead to creeping separateness; on the other hand, if one of us liked anything, the other, in the name of sharing, must learn to like it too. It was now that we re-examined our doubts about children. If children could be raised by a nanny, we sharing them for a few hours each day, or even if we were farmers, children might be good. But in the pattern of modern life, where they became the centre for the woman, they were separating. We would not have children. Nor would we allow any career, unless we pursued it together, to become dominating.
“We began immediately, with enthusiasm and thoroughness, to live by the principle of sharing. We decided that each of us must read every book, even children’s books, the other had read; and we did so.
“… We went to plays and concerts together; and if one couldn’t go, neither did … our thesis that if one of us liked something there must be something to like about it which the other could find was proved again and again. And sharing was union. More and more, as I read her books and knew her music, she was in me and I in her; and so for her: the co-inherence of lovers. "
It is perhaps helpful to note that they were not yet married at this point. Words cannot express how deeply I disagree with not having children, lest they diminish your love for one another—especially if it is decided before marriage and just on the second date. The affair reeked only of desperation and insecurity; and I, for one, prefer my love stories to not reek of desperation and insecurity.
Another thing I would like to complain of is their overuse of poetry and sonnets. I do not care how many sonnets a man writes to his wife in the privacy of their own home, so long as she does not find any objection to the practice. It is not my business. But to publish them, disguised as a memoir, assaulting the poor readers with yet another poem—that is too much.
(Note: the main reason I even considered finishing the book is that my boss lit up when he saw it on a table at work, declared himself a “huge fan,” and asked if I was the one reading it. He later commented on how quickly I was making my way through. I admitted to having skimmed some of the sonnets, to which he said, “That is fair.” I include this anecdote to show that even those who like the book may not love the sonnets. In short: nobody cares.)
My third complaint is the frequency of Van mentioning C.S. Lewis. I do not doubt they were friends, nor do I doubt that Lewis had a significant influence on his life. What I wonder is this: if Lewis were not as successful and famous as he was, would he have had such a presence in the book? Take this, for example: Van sent Lewis five sonnets he wrote. Lewis wrote back, and said they were all good but one especially was “very good”. And Van took great lengths describing the ordeal. But fifty pages later, he included a whole letter Lewis wrote him, in which we learn that Lewis sent five original sonnets of his own to Van—who said “They spoke to me very powerfully, indeed; and I should send them, in my turn, to any lover bereaved..” So why not include them in the book, written perhaps for lovers bereaved, when you never hesitate to share full letters from Lewis, or your own sonnets (or the praise they receive from such well-known personnel), though, as I already established, nobody cares?
Another reason that caused me to wonder at the actual closeness of their friendship was that, after Van wrote Lewis the news that Davy was dying and would not live another six months, he then did not send a word to Lewis for four entire months. One would think one would communicate with such close friends and influential people.
But there were flaws in the narrative, too. Quite large problems were mentioned once and then never again, such as the shocking three-page affair of Van telling of his falling in love with the young girl Jane. This obviously breached his “Shining Barrier” with Davy, but of course he told her everything, and it was fine (we assume).
Overall, while finishing this book at work yesterday, I was led to exclaim two things with equal conviction: The first was that“I don’t want to read another sonnet!” and the second,“If this is love, then I don’t want it.” A slightly older and wiser woman assured me that I would change my mind when I fall in love one day, but I don’t think I want to. She also said, “You are totally not a romantic,” which honestly saddened me because I had always thought of myself as one, to a degree anyway. But in all seriousness, this book merely reaffirmed my disbelief in love at first sight. Perhaps it is not always an evil thing, but neither can I believe it is always good.
And I cannot believe myself capable of falling into such a trap—oh the horror.
If anyone can recommend an actually good love story, tragic or no, to appease my heart and remind me of the goodness of love—please do not hesitate to do so.
Until then, I shall remain
Your Jaded and Opinionated
Haneen
EDIT: I had many other thoughts, especially on the ending. I will spare both of us and not address them, unless of course you have read it (in which case I am sorry for you) and would like to engage in a discussion. For now, I think it not worth anymore of my time.
February 2021
Akers Ridge
___ ___ ___
My dear Whales,
When I die, mysteriously and tragically and young, the very last thing I want is for my heartbroken and grieving husband—widower, now—to write and publish a maudlin memoir about our relationship in which he quotes intimate things I wrote in our shared diary. So help me, it would not fare well for him.
But that is just what Sheldon Vanauken did to his dead wife, Davy, in his memoir A Severe Mercy, telling of their courtship, marriage, conversion to Christianity, and then his widowhood. It’s no wonder I do not like the guy; and though I was quite excited to read the book (for I wanted a tragic love story, and this one promised not only the setting of Oxford, but also the friendship of C.S. Lewis), I will freely admit I had decided I did not like it in the first twenty pages alone, and was then unable to read the remaining two hundred without an overly critical eye, ready to pounce on anything to add to the ever-growing list of problematic tidbits.
The biggest and most nauseating issue I have with it is the very philosophy of their relationship. It seems they feared falling out of love with one another—losing the “inloveness” of their “Shining Barrier” by “creeping separateness” threatened everywhere. (Those three phrases are used liberally throughout the book, as well as a thousand other examples of poetic verbiage. I will spare you.)
Consider this excerpt:
“Creeping separateness and sharing were opposite slides of one coin. We rejected separate activities, whether bridge or shooting or sailing because they would lead to creeping separateness; on the other hand, if one of us liked anything, the other, in the name of sharing, must learn to like it too. It was now that we re-examined our doubts about children. If children could be raised by a nanny, we sharing them for a few hours each day, or even if we were farmers, children might be good. But in the pattern of modern life, where they became the centre for the woman, they were separating. We would not have children. Nor would we allow any career, unless we pursued it together, to become dominating.
“We began immediately, with enthusiasm and thoroughness, to live by the principle of sharing. We decided that each of us must read every book, even children’s books, the other had read; and we did so.
“… We went to plays and concerts together; and if one couldn’t go, neither did … our thesis that if one of us liked something there must be something to like about it which the other could find was proved again and again. And sharing was union. More and more, as I read her books and knew her music, she was in me and I in her; and so for her: the co-inherence of lovers. "
It is perhaps helpful to note that they were not yet married at this point. Words cannot express how deeply I disagree with not having children, lest they diminish your love for one another—especially if it is decided before marriage and just on the second date. The affair reeked only of desperation and insecurity; and I, for one, prefer my love stories to not reek of desperation and insecurity.
Another thing I would like to complain of is their overuse of poetry and sonnets. I do not care how many sonnets a man writes to his wife in the privacy of their own home, so long as she does not find any objection to the practice. It is not my business. But to publish them, disguised as a memoir, assaulting the poor readers with yet another poem—that is too much.
(Note: the main reason I even considered finishing the book is that my boss lit up when he saw it on a table at work, declared himself a “huge fan,” and asked if I was the one reading it. He later commented on how quickly I was making my way through. I admitted to having skimmed some of the sonnets, to which he said, “That is fair.” I include this anecdote to show that even those who like the book may not love the sonnets. In short: nobody cares.)
My third complaint is the frequency of Van mentioning C.S. Lewis. I do not doubt they were friends, nor do I doubt that Lewis had a significant influence on his life. What I wonder is this: if Lewis were not as successful and famous as he was, would he have had such a presence in the book? Take this, for example: Van sent Lewis five sonnets he wrote. Lewis wrote back, and said they were all good but one especially was “very good”. And Van took great lengths describing the ordeal. But fifty pages later, he included a whole letter Lewis wrote him, in which we learn that Lewis sent five original sonnets of his own to Van—who said “They spoke to me very powerfully, indeed; and I should send them, in my turn, to any lover bereaved..” So why not include them in the book, written perhaps for lovers bereaved, when you never hesitate to share full letters from Lewis, or your own sonnets (or the praise they receive from such well-known personnel), though, as I already established, nobody cares?
Another reason that caused me to wonder at the actual closeness of their friendship was that, after Van wrote Lewis the news that Davy was dying and would not live another six months, he then did not send a word to Lewis for four entire months. One would think one would communicate with such close friends and influential people.
But there were flaws in the narrative, too. Quite large problems were mentioned once and then never again, such as the shocking three-page affair of Van telling of his falling in love with the young girl Jane. This obviously breached his “Shining Barrier” with Davy, but of course he told her everything, and it was fine (we assume).
Overall, while finishing this book at work yesterday, I was led to exclaim two things with equal conviction: The first was that“I don’t want to read another sonnet!” and the second,“If this is love, then I don’t want it.” A slightly older and wiser woman assured me that I would change my mind when I fall in love one day, but I don’t think I want to. She also said, “You are totally not a romantic,” which honestly saddened me because I had always thought of myself as one, to a degree anyway. But in all seriousness, this book merely reaffirmed my disbelief in love at first sight. Perhaps it is not always an evil thing, but neither can I believe it is always good.
And I cannot believe myself capable of falling into such a trap—oh the horror.
If anyone can recommend an actually good love story, tragic or no, to appease my heart and remind me of the goodness of love—please do not hesitate to do so.
Until then, I shall remain
Your Jaded and Opinionated
Haneen
EDIT: I had many other thoughts, especially on the ending. I will spare both of us and not address them, unless of course you have read it (in which case I am sorry for you) and would like to engage in a discussion. For now, I think it not worth anymore of my time.
February 2021
Akers Ridge
January 5, 2022
I struggled through this book. Vanauken is a beautiful writer, yet I feel like I am just not the person to appreciate it. There is a deep richness and insightful lessons within this book, but part of me wishes it were shorter. It often felt detailed just for the sake of being detailed.
I think it would take me 3+ reads to really understand and appreciate this book for all that it is.
Overall, there are moments that really undid me—he is undoubtedly a talented writer. The way he describes their love is something out of a movie. I just wish it were more succinct.
I think it would take me 3+ reads to really understand and appreciate this book for all that it is.
Overall, there are moments that really undid me—he is undoubtedly a talented writer. The way he describes their love is something out of a movie. I just wish it were more succinct.
July 10, 2025
If you’re afraid of crying on the subway, this book is not for you.
April 23, 2023
The premise for this book sounds the slightest bit self-indulgent: an academic vents his grief about his wife's death? Hmm, OK. However, what I found was one of the loveliest, most honest, and most moving spiritual autobiographies of the century. I don't think I can do much description of this one—if you love the pursuit of the good life, then you will understand once you read it. Even if you don't find the prospect of reading it attractive for you (admittedly, Vanauken can be a bit sentimental and I could have done without his mediocre poetry), this is totally worth reading and owning for its unparalleled intimate portrait of C.S. Lewis. Surely this couple was a very important part of Lewis's later life according to all available evidence, and the book further solidified my increasingly awestruck admiration for Lewis, who must be the closest I'll ever admit to having a "role model". The previously unpublished letters are lovely to read, and the memoir itself is an extraordinary meditation on what it means to inhabit time. Overall, a wonderful tribute to Lewis's legacy and objectives, along with a story that simply ought to be read.
June 17, 2025
I do not often cry when reading books. Books frequently move me deeply but that does not usually evidence itself in tears. This book though...I needed tissues 2 pages into the Prologue. I don't know exactly why - I connected to it more than almost any book that I've read before. I related to the emotions and experiences that were described so vividly and poetically. I loved being able to see C. S. Lewis through the eyes of someone who knew him personally. And I loved knowing that there were other people who have felt the same way I do about things - about beauty and joy and longing, about eternity and love and hope and sorrow. These were people that I could have been friends with, if I had lived in that bygone time. I think we couldn't have NOT been friends. Somehow, we would have met. And so we did anyway. In the pages of this book, I made friends outside the walls of time. We'll meet again someday and I think-I hope-we will recognize each other. Heaven, after all, will be a coming home.
August 6, 2017
Severe mercy. That’s a rather chilling way to describe something containing so much hope and freedom.
Mercy can often be misunderstood, thrown down and trampled upon by our raw emotions. How can something so good cost so much? Isn’t mercy the act of setting free; a pardon from a much deserved punishment? Why then this sting? Could it be that mercy comes at a high price? Perhaps. And if so, does it come at the expense of the giver or the receiver?
I’m not here to answer these questions. I would have to have a lot more wisdom than my 19 years allow. But I can point you to a memoir revered as much as any work by C.S. Lewis, Chesterton, or Spurgeon. A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken, recounts the life of Van and his wife Jean Davis, or Davy: the places they go, the people they meet, the faith they want to reject, and the transformation they undergo at the cost of a very severe mercy.
On the entirety and depth of this book, The Washington Post comments, “No brief review can do justice to the human depth of this book.”
I fully agree. This corner of the Collegian is merely an invitation to delve in and see for yourself the depth that is so incomparable. If my attempt to scratch-the-surface resonates at all within you, do yourself a favor and read the entire book.
A Severe Mercy tells the story of two real people, Van and Davy, whose paths first cross in a New York Department store where Davy works and where Van is a scatter-brained college student. Unable to resist her “beautiful, wide-spaced eyes”, Van promptly asks Davy out on a date at his first opportunity. This snowballs into an inseparable relationship dedicated to discovering the secret of “inloveness” and beauty.
Van and Davy have always considered themselves agnostics, but the more they seek to deepen their love, the more they begin to believe in a creator of order and beauty. After his time as a soldier in WWII, Van reluctantly decides to re-visit this absurd notion of Christianity he abandoned in his childhood. This decision would change the course of his and Davy’s life forever.
The couple moved to England after World War II to study history and literature at Oxford University. To their surprise, they meet Christian friends who actually possess wit and intelligence, one of whom was the famous teacher and author, C.S. Lewis. Van wrote to C.S. Lewis of his doubts and questions while he battled between faith and reason, desire and belief.
After a long season of searching for proof and finding unexpected answers, Van and Davy “made the rather chilling realisation that [they] could not go back” (98). Before coming to Oxford, they had neither accepted nor rejected Jesus because they had never encountered Him. But now they had. At this realization, Van exclaims in one of his letters to Lewis, “My God! There is a gap behind me, too.” Even the possibility of the validity of Christianity created a gap they did not expect. The middle ground they had stood on comfortably for so long was slowly sinking. Now that they had encountered the Gospel, they must choose to accept or reject. There were two gaps. One in front, one behind. And so they jumped. They made the choice to believe.
For some of you, you may be turned off by the detailed sentimentality of Vanauken’s writing style. Others may be overwhelmed by the perfectly blended paradox of mystery and clarity. And yet within all of us, something either comes alive or tenses up. There are no directions to this part of your soul, but something about the story triggers movement there. It triggered me.
It leads me to the realization that the Gospel demands a response. It demanded a response from Van and Davy, and it demands a response from us. Once we’ve encountered the possibility that Jesus is God and died for all, we’re faced with a choice--required to respond. The middle ground ceases to exist and we must either face the gap behind or the gap ahead and leap.
So read with caution. The Lord has made a way of mercy, but it is not without severity. It is beautiful and good beyond comprehension, but it demands a response that will cost everything.
Mercy can often be misunderstood, thrown down and trampled upon by our raw emotions. How can something so good cost so much? Isn’t mercy the act of setting free; a pardon from a much deserved punishment? Why then this sting? Could it be that mercy comes at a high price? Perhaps. And if so, does it come at the expense of the giver or the receiver?
I’m not here to answer these questions. I would have to have a lot more wisdom than my 19 years allow. But I can point you to a memoir revered as much as any work by C.S. Lewis, Chesterton, or Spurgeon. A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken, recounts the life of Van and his wife Jean Davis, or Davy: the places they go, the people they meet, the faith they want to reject, and the transformation they undergo at the cost of a very severe mercy.
On the entirety and depth of this book, The Washington Post comments, “No brief review can do justice to the human depth of this book.”
I fully agree. This corner of the Collegian is merely an invitation to delve in and see for yourself the depth that is so incomparable. If my attempt to scratch-the-surface resonates at all within you, do yourself a favor and read the entire book.
A Severe Mercy tells the story of two real people, Van and Davy, whose paths first cross in a New York Department store where Davy works and where Van is a scatter-brained college student. Unable to resist her “beautiful, wide-spaced eyes”, Van promptly asks Davy out on a date at his first opportunity. This snowballs into an inseparable relationship dedicated to discovering the secret of “inloveness” and beauty.
Van and Davy have always considered themselves agnostics, but the more they seek to deepen their love, the more they begin to believe in a creator of order and beauty. After his time as a soldier in WWII, Van reluctantly decides to re-visit this absurd notion of Christianity he abandoned in his childhood. This decision would change the course of his and Davy’s life forever.
The couple moved to England after World War II to study history and literature at Oxford University. To their surprise, they meet Christian friends who actually possess wit and intelligence, one of whom was the famous teacher and author, C.S. Lewis. Van wrote to C.S. Lewis of his doubts and questions while he battled between faith and reason, desire and belief.
After a long season of searching for proof and finding unexpected answers, Van and Davy “made the rather chilling realisation that [they] could not go back” (98). Before coming to Oxford, they had neither accepted nor rejected Jesus because they had never encountered Him. But now they had. At this realization, Van exclaims in one of his letters to Lewis, “My God! There is a gap behind me, too.” Even the possibility of the validity of Christianity created a gap they did not expect. The middle ground they had stood on comfortably for so long was slowly sinking. Now that they had encountered the Gospel, they must choose to accept or reject. There were two gaps. One in front, one behind. And so they jumped. They made the choice to believe.
For some of you, you may be turned off by the detailed sentimentality of Vanauken’s writing style. Others may be overwhelmed by the perfectly blended paradox of mystery and clarity. And yet within all of us, something either comes alive or tenses up. There are no directions to this part of your soul, but something about the story triggers movement there. It triggered me.
It leads me to the realization that the Gospel demands a response. It demanded a response from Van and Davy, and it demands a response from us. Once we’ve encountered the possibility that Jesus is God and died for all, we’re faced with a choice--required to respond. The middle ground ceases to exist and we must either face the gap behind or the gap ahead and leap.
So read with caution. The Lord has made a way of mercy, but it is not without severity. It is beautiful and good beyond comprehension, but it demands a response that will cost everything.
July 19, 2009
Thanks to Tata J for lending me another unforgettable book! This is the second love story that made me cry (honest). The first third of the book is your typical Nicholas Sparks story. It actually reminds me of The Notebook so as I thought it would be an easy read, I continued on. On the second part (after The Shining Barrier), C. S. Lewis as introduced. It had the feeling of a religious book and I got a bit thrown out and started complaining to my wife that the book is boring. However, this early morning when I opened the book to read for the last time, I could no longer put it down and I could no longer sleep. It was just heartwarming, hearttugging, heartwrenching...The sickbed and death scenes are just well told and like no other. I read the last 3 chapters tears blurring my eyes.
Well done, Mr. Sheldon Vanauken! Thank you, Tata J! You always know which books are really worth reading!
Last week is just a exceptional one. I finished three 5-star books! I have now lined up 3 other books recommended by Tata J. Let's forget about 501 Must Read Books for the moment.
Well done, Mr. Sheldon Vanauken! Thank you, Tata J! You always know which books are really worth reading!
Last week is just a exceptional one. I finished three 5-star books! I have now lined up 3 other books recommended by Tata J. Let's forget about 501 Must Read Books for the moment.
August 20, 2025
One of the most beautiful, challenging, and sobering books I have ever read. It made me cry, desire to love more deeply, to know God more intimately, and when it comes, to grieve well.
February 26, 2025
I had heard a lot about this book prior to reading it so I was excited to finally read it and really wanted to like it. The book is a “spiritual autobiography” of author Sheldon Vanauken, chronicling his love story with his wife Davy, their conversion to Christianity, and Sheldon’s experience of grief after Davy’s untimely death. Vanauken’s story is one that is incredibly human, both the good and the bad, and shows the beauty of love and loss. At its best, it is incredibly moving and invites the reader into an intimate portrait of the author’s heart throughout his life. Yet at its worst, Vanauken’s flaws are on full display and can come off as grating and unlikable.
Quite possibly the book’s greatest virtue is Vanauken’s ability to profoundly capture the infinite longings of the human heart. This book is full of moments that show the heights and depths of what it means to be a human and Vanauken lives in such a way that renders his heart fully open and exposed to all of these realities. His realization that the painful longing that he can never escape while also never fully satisfy is a longing for heaven calls the reader both to allow their hearts to be stretched to its capacity similar to Vanauken, while also calling them to set their sights on heaven, where all of the infinite desires of their heart will be fulfilled. This desire for Joy, as C.S. Lewis called it, whose influence is felt greatly throughout the book, is written all over the pages of this book and at its best it captures this perfectly through Sheldon and Davy’s story of love and conversion. The sections that captured this best for me were Sheldon and Davy’s conversion while studying in Oxford and the moments directly leading up to and following Davy’s death. Davy’s death is heart wrenching and the meditations in the second to last chapter on eternity, grief, and joy were some of the best moments of the book. Additionally, some of the apologetics offered from both Vanauken and C.S. Lewis in his letters to Vanauken were great defenses of the faith while also being approachable and engaging.
Unfortunately, I ended up not enjoying this book as much as I had hoped, due in part to Vanauken coming off as pretentious, self-indulgent, and unlikable at times. Vanauken is sentimental to a fault throughout the book, both when it comes to his approach to love, marriage, faith, and his quest for “the good life”. He approaches many of these issues in his life in an overly idealistic fashion and seemingly white washes the narrative of anything resembling what most would consider “real life”. When it comes to Sheldon and Davy’s love, their relationship often seems smothering and hyperfocused on never maturing past the honeymoon phase, while their decision to not have children is also noticeably concerning and never fully addressed. Additionally, Sheldon’s search for a free-spirit life without the shackles of responsibility comes off as immature and childish, especially in the period following Sheldon and Davy’s time in Oxford. Throughout multiple portions of the book I found myself growing frustrated with Vanauken and didn’t enjoy spending time in his mind. While I’m not saying these experiences are invalid or aren’t natural experiences everyone goes through at some point or another in their life, however some basic self reflection in retrospect seemed to be missing from Vanauken’s narrative. Vanauken often finds himself seeking the ecstasy of heaven, without first going through the agony of the cross, which ultimately is what makes Davy’s death truly a mercy.
While these gripes were serious detractors from the book for me, the great moments were truly incredibly moving and some of the insights Vanauken makes are significantly insightful as well. While I have to say that after reading, this book seems a little overhyped, I would still recommend it to any reader, especially those interested in beauty, marriage, or C.S. Lewis.
Quite possibly the book’s greatest virtue is Vanauken’s ability to profoundly capture the infinite longings of the human heart. This book is full of moments that show the heights and depths of what it means to be a human and Vanauken lives in such a way that renders his heart fully open and exposed to all of these realities. His realization that the painful longing that he can never escape while also never fully satisfy is a longing for heaven calls the reader both to allow their hearts to be stretched to its capacity similar to Vanauken, while also calling them to set their sights on heaven, where all of the infinite desires of their heart will be fulfilled. This desire for Joy, as C.S. Lewis called it, whose influence is felt greatly throughout the book, is written all over the pages of this book and at its best it captures this perfectly through Sheldon and Davy’s story of love and conversion. The sections that captured this best for me were Sheldon and Davy’s conversion while studying in Oxford and the moments directly leading up to and following Davy’s death. Davy’s death is heart wrenching and the meditations in the second to last chapter on eternity, grief, and joy were some of the best moments of the book. Additionally, some of the apologetics offered from both Vanauken and C.S. Lewis in his letters to Vanauken were great defenses of the faith while also being approachable and engaging.
Unfortunately, I ended up not enjoying this book as much as I had hoped, due in part to Vanauken coming off as pretentious, self-indulgent, and unlikable at times. Vanauken is sentimental to a fault throughout the book, both when it comes to his approach to love, marriage, faith, and his quest for “the good life”. He approaches many of these issues in his life in an overly idealistic fashion and seemingly white washes the narrative of anything resembling what most would consider “real life”. When it comes to Sheldon and Davy’s love, their relationship often seems smothering and hyperfocused on never maturing past the honeymoon phase, while their decision to not have children is also noticeably concerning and never fully addressed. Additionally, Sheldon’s search for a free-spirit life without the shackles of responsibility comes off as immature and childish, especially in the period following Sheldon and Davy’s time in Oxford. Throughout multiple portions of the book I found myself growing frustrated with Vanauken and didn’t enjoy spending time in his mind. While I’m not saying these experiences are invalid or aren’t natural experiences everyone goes through at some point or another in their life, however some basic self reflection in retrospect seemed to be missing from Vanauken’s narrative. Vanauken often finds himself seeking the ecstasy of heaven, without first going through the agony of the cross, which ultimately is what makes Davy’s death truly a mercy.
While these gripes were serious detractors from the book for me, the great moments were truly incredibly moving and some of the insights Vanauken makes are significantly insightful as well. While I have to say that after reading, this book seems a little overhyped, I would still recommend it to any reader, especially those interested in beauty, marriage, or C.S. Lewis.
September 5, 2014
While A Severe Mercy had its moments, even the presence of C.S. Lewis' correspondence couldn't redeem it for me. I found the book--a highly literate journal used to process the author's bereavement-- predominantly tedious and self-indulgent. Several times I almost quit, but then a sliver of hope emerged that it would get better. Mostly, it didn't. I found myself wishing that Mr. Vanauken included letters from Davy, his deceased wife. She sounded like a remarkable, wonderful woman; now there is a spirit and journey that I would love to become more intimately acquainted with in the first person.
March 22, 2023
I’ve re-read this before now, but not in many years. It was delightful to return to, and still so beautiful.
I didn’t remember that this is the book where the author and C.S. Lewis are talking together and say that, “Rereading books, we said with immense agreement, was the mark of the real lover of books.” My sense of validation was tremendous.😇
Read for the first time: 4/17/09
I didn’t remember that this is the book where the author and C.S. Lewis are talking together and say that, “Rereading books, we said with immense agreement, was the mark of the real lover of books.” My sense of validation was tremendous.😇
Read for the first time: 4/17/09
March 15, 2025
How one even attempts to write a review of a book like this, I may never know. Never before has a book impacted me quite like Sheldon’s. (In fact, this is the first and only book I’ve ever recommended—and even purchased for someone—before finishing it myself.) It holds a delicate balance of life’s greatest themes: love, grief, and mercy. From the outset, let me say—this was a delightful read and an even more beautiful story.
This review is solely for me.
One of the first things that pulled me in was the book’s soundtrack. Not an actual one, of course—but the music that runs through their love. Sheldon and Davy were both lovers of the arts, something that surfaces early on and remains throughout. Literature, symphonies, beauty itself—it all envelops them. Their love, by their own decree, was intertwined with one of my favorite symphonies (one of the few I’ve committed to memory). And now, it will always be tied to this book.
Sheldon describes this symphony as an introduction to his love:
As I turned each page, I heard it—the ever-enchanting melody Tchaikovsky gifted us.
Their love was to be pure. Their love was to be first. The Shining Barrier.
But soon, he would write again about his own tears. Tears that “came in the country, but… were blown away in the wind” (156). Tears for which, ironically, he needed faith.
Despite their Shining Barrier, the Lord had other plans. He radically pursued Sheldon and Davy, pulling them deeper into a love that would not—could not—let them go. C.S. Lewis once wrote to Sheldon, “But I think you are already in the meshes of the net! The Holy Spirit is after you. I doubt if you’ll get away!” And he was right.
The Lord pursued them vigorously. Sheldon wrote of his growing love for Jesus and the intellectual challenge of Christianity as a yearning. And that yearning met him everywhere:
He’d later write, “We sought the beautiful and perhaps the good, and we came at last to Messiah” (218). Praise God.
I found myself continually encouraged by how intentionally the Lord used them—their story, their vocation—to bring Himself glory. Even in difficulty and suffering, God remained. I don’t understand all that happened in their life, but I know He never left their side.
I told a friend I cried while reading this book (which, honestly, everyone I know who has read it has done, too). To my amazement, they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Tears shed at the beauty of a God who remains the source of our hope—even in suffering. My tears were their own evidence of His goodness and mercy. He is near. Be near, O God. And just as C.S. Lewis confidently called out to Sheldon from across the way, “Christians NEVER say goodbye!” (125).
It’s amazing how Love Himself redeemed their picturesque, worldly love—for each other, for others. Christ alone could do what no one else could: breach the Shining Barrier. Indeed, Sheldon concludes, “We ended as we began—in love” (219).
Yes, but now—a redeemed love.
In his afterward, Sheldon reflects on the response to this book:
And a letter to friends it felt. Immersed in their world, their story, their life, I marveled at the beauty of our dear Christ. If Sheldon were here, I’d thank him for this intimate letter—to us, his friends in truth.
I long for the day when I will be able to tell him to his face, as I'm sure many others will. May Christ continue to speak through this work and his story.
As Sheldon would say, Under the mercy.
This review is solely for me.
One of the first things that pulled me in was the book’s soundtrack. Not an actual one, of course—but the music that runs through their love. Sheldon and Davy were both lovers of the arts, something that surfaces early on and remains throughout. Literature, symphonies, beauty itself—it all envelops them. Their love, by their own decree, was intertwined with one of my favorite symphonies (one of the few I’ve committed to memory). And now, it will always be tied to this book.
Sheldon describes this symphony as an introduction to his love:
“In Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony there is a motto running through all four movements, sometimes melancholy, sometimes ominous, becoming finally a pean of triumph. We identified our love—the Shining Barrier—with it: it sang our love” (40).
As I turned each page, I heard it—the ever-enchanting melody Tchaikovsky gifted us.
Their love was to be pure. Their love was to be first. The Shining Barrier.
“This splendour is upon us, high and pure
As heaven: and we swear it shall endure:
Swear fortitude for pain and faith for tears
To hold our shining barrier down the years” (54).
But soon, he would write again about his own tears. Tears that “came in the country, but… were blown away in the wind” (156). Tears for which, ironically, he needed faith.
Despite their Shining Barrier, the Lord had other plans. He radically pursued Sheldon and Davy, pulling them deeper into a love that would not—could not—let them go. C.S. Lewis once wrote to Sheldon, “But I think you are already in the meshes of the net! The Holy Spirit is after you. I doubt if you’ll get away!” And he was right.
The Lord pursued them vigorously. Sheldon wrote of his growing love for Jesus and the intellectual challenge of Christianity as a yearning. And that yearning met him everywhere:
“When autumn leaves were burning in the twilight, when wild geese flew crying overhead, when I looked up at bare branches against the stars, when spring arrived on an April morning—were in truth yearnings for him” (94).
He’d later write, “We sought the beautiful and perhaps the good, and we came at last to Messiah” (218). Praise God.
I found myself continually encouraged by how intentionally the Lord used them—their story, their vocation—to bring Himself glory. Even in difficulty and suffering, God remained. I don’t understand all that happened in their life, but I know He never left their side.
I told a friend I cried while reading this book (which, honestly, everyone I know who has read it has done, too). To my amazement, they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Tears shed at the beauty of a God who remains the source of our hope—even in suffering. My tears were their own evidence of His goodness and mercy. He is near. Be near, O God. And just as C.S. Lewis confidently called out to Sheldon from across the way, “Christians NEVER say goodbye!” (125).
It’s amazing how Love Himself redeemed their picturesque, worldly love—for each other, for others. Christ alone could do what no one else could: breach the Shining Barrier. Indeed, Sheldon concludes, “We ended as we began—in love” (219).
Yes, but now—a redeemed love.
In his afterward, Sheldon reflects on the response to this book:
“It is, I think, that we are all so alone in what lies deepest in our souls, so unable to find the words and perhaps the courage to speak with unlocked hearts, that we do not know at all that it is the same with others… Robert Louis Stevenson said that every book was intimately a letter to friends. How much more so mine than most, and to friends both known and unknown: but friends in truth” (238).
And a letter to friends it felt. Immersed in their world, their story, their life, I marveled at the beauty of our dear Christ. If Sheldon were here, I’d thank him for this intimate letter—to us, his friends in truth.
I long for the day when I will be able to tell him to his face, as I'm sure many others will. May Christ continue to speak through this work and his story.
As Sheldon would say, Under the mercy.
May 6, 2007
This book is amazing. Anyone who has really loved someone, or aspires to real love will take so much from this. It also has some beautiful things to say about grief and loss. Poetically written and so inspired!
May 16, 2024
Incredible indeed. I had some misgivings about starting this book (perhaps just a mimetic pushback from others loving it so much), but it was profound and its elegance was of the highest order. My biggest takeaway was a realization that rightly ordering one’s loves is an experience of crucifixion. It is not a simple matter to love God first and all things in relation to him. This book is definitely worthy of a rereading.
Read
August 31, 2014I've had a somewhat ambivalent reaction to this book, which some friends have praised highly, reading it over and over, and others have regarded with extreme skepticism, even derision (usually in those who can't stand C.S. Lewis).
The beginning is a description of a passionate love affair so all-consuming that it reads claustrophobic, even obsessive. Though the author describes how he and his wife "Davy" came gradually to Christianity through letters to and from C.S. Lewis, it reads to me as if his primary focus of worship was his wife, who unfortunately died far too young.
Then he faced the bitter struggle to make sense of his grief within his new faith, and Lewis was of crucial importance here--a poignant fact considering how he was to go through his own love and loss of a dear wife in his own turn. But there is no evidence that Lewis and Joy Davidman were quite as obsessive. I hesitate to say that the presence of Davidman's children (whom Lewis adopted as enthusiastically as he had Maureen, the daughter of the problematical "Minto"), which forces even the most passionate couples to think about others outside themselves, was the difference, as Vanauken and his perfect Davy professed to have the perfect life without kids.
There is nothing to be said for or against anyone's decision whether or not to have kids, only that parenthood seems to generate a paradigm shift that is not always seen in those who chose an offspring-free road. In any case this particular book, and the conclusion that Vanauken comes to, I think raises some questions that people can fruitfully discuss.
The beginning is a description of a passionate love affair so all-consuming that it reads claustrophobic, even obsessive. Though the author describes how he and his wife "Davy" came gradually to Christianity through letters to and from C.S. Lewis, it reads to me as if his primary focus of worship was his wife, who unfortunately died far too young.
Then he faced the bitter struggle to make sense of his grief within his new faith, and Lewis was of crucial importance here--a poignant fact considering how he was to go through his own love and loss of a dear wife in his own turn. But there is no evidence that Lewis and Joy Davidman were quite as obsessive. I hesitate to say that the presence of Davidman's children (whom Lewis adopted as enthusiastically as he had Maureen, the daughter of the problematical "Minto"), which forces even the most passionate couples to think about others outside themselves, was the difference, as Vanauken and his perfect Davy professed to have the perfect life without kids.
There is nothing to be said for or against anyone's decision whether or not to have kids, only that parenthood seems to generate a paradigm shift that is not always seen in those who chose an offspring-free road. In any case this particular book, and the conclusion that Vanauken comes to, I think raises some questions that people can fruitfully discuss.
May 28, 2016
This is my second re-reading, first in my late teens and now in my early twenties. It has meant so much more to me now, this second time. Such a beautiful, unforgettable and yet terribly hard story. It's been a long time since I've cried so much over a book. I loved "the Shining Barrier"- what an image! I loved seeing Lewis as the faithful and (at times) painfully honest friend.
From the last chapter:
"When he [Lewis] died, I remembered his great shout across the Oxford High Street: 'Christians NEVER say goodbye!' In eternity there will be 'time enough'. And as Jack said, 'We must talk of 1000 things when you come.' "
From the last chapter:
"When he [Lewis] died, I remembered his great shout across the Oxford High Street: 'Christians NEVER say goodbye!' In eternity there will be 'time enough'. And as Jack said, 'We must talk of 1000 things when you come.' "
July 1, 2025
This book has caused me to reflect on a lot of thoughts which is why I will give it a 4, although I go back and forth between a 3 & 4
Vanauken writes beautifully and poetically about his idyllic marriage and relationship with Davy, one that I’m sure any one aspires to, of complete unity and a deep love. BUT THEN their relationship is “breached” by God through their eventual conversion at Oxford. It was interesting to read, however, I find myself conflicted at his later “emotional affair” with another woman over his jealousy over Davy’s relationship with God… Their relationship ended in a seemingly weird place, and although I do not doubt the immensity of their love, I see a constant looking back into the past as a definition of love. But he claims a deep love and I do find that evident, so perhaps it is simply an inexperienced outsiders critiques.
In all honesty, I struggle with Vanauken’s Christian journey. There are spaces where I deeply resonate such as his commitment to “choose God” as opposed to an emotional and total handing over, and the inescapability of Christianity.
Which I will note pause here to write about —> one of my greatest appreciations in this book was his honesty about the struggle between the Christian joy’s requirements, and what worldly joy is. For Vanauken and Davy, their life had been set on a course to fully enjoy life, love, and beauty, for them exemplified in being free in the ocean, yachting. Upon conversion, they are struck with the reality that this may not be compatible with Christianity, because where does responsibility now lie? I have too often struggled with this, my own desires to live in ease and beauty, and the compulsory nature of the gospel. The responsibility we have to love God and our neighbors must be our greatest joy, and “Lord help my unbelief” in that. It is no longer a life revolving around the I or as Lewis claimed about their relationship, centered far too much on the “US” the “Us-God” instead of the “God-us”.
Now back to my critique: Yet, his journey seemed to miss a large part of the love of God himself. Even when he was writing about time, eternity, and his picture of heaven, his focus seemed on the ability to meet Davy again, and to contemplate beauty and timeless moments. WHILE I appreciate this, as a heaven lover myself (Maranatha am I right), I cling to Lewis’ words in A Grief Observed, that if you approach God as a means to an end, “then you are not really approaching Him at all.” (which note: is exactly what Lewis struggled with but seemed to later understand). I’m not sure that Vanauken ever really shifted his view towards God as the ultimate good, as opposed to love and beauty. He was a lover of beauty, and while I think this a good, I think it an error on his part to not attempt a redirection.
This book overall was not what I was expecting… I thought it would be more of an exploration of grief, but the grief part felt like a reiteration of all that had been said. Instead I was reading a beautiful marriage narrative. After hearing people rave about this book, it felt a little disappointing. If I were to suggest a book on grief and loss, I prefer A Grief Observed.
However, again, a beautiful writer, so here are some quotes:
“The best argument for Christianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness. But the strongest argument against Christianity is also Christians—when they are sombre and joy-less, when they are self-righteous and smug in complacent consecration, when they are narrow and repressive, then Chris-tianity dies a thousand deaths.”
“The Holy Spirit is after you. I doubt if you’ll get away!” - Lewis Quote!!
“We talked, I recall, about death or, rather, awakening after death. Whatever it would be like, we thought, our response to it would be ‘Why, of course! Of course it’s like this. How else could it have possibly been.’”
“But, though I wouldn’t have admitted it, even to myself, I didn’t want God aboard. He was too heavy. I wanted Him approving from a considerable distance. I didn’t want to be thinking of Him. I wanted to be free—like Gypsy. I wanted life itself, the colour and fire and loveliness of life. And Christ now and then, like a loved poem I could read when I wanted to. I didn’t want us to be swallowed up in God. I wanted holidays from the school of Christ. We should, somehow, be able to have the Shining Barrier intact and follow the King of Glory. I didn’t want to be a saint. Almost none of this did I consciously know—just longings.”
“If everything is lost, thanks be to God If I must see it go, watch it go, Watch it fade away, die Thanks be to God that He is all I have And if I have Him not, I have nothing at all Nothing at all, only a farewell to the wind Farewell to the grey sky Goodbye, God be with you evening October sky. If all is lost, thanks be to God, For He is He, and I, I am only I.”
Vanauken writes beautifully and poetically about his idyllic marriage and relationship with Davy, one that I’m sure any one aspires to, of complete unity and a deep love. BUT THEN their relationship is “breached” by God through their eventual conversion at Oxford. It was interesting to read, however, I find myself conflicted at his later “emotional affair” with another woman over his jealousy over Davy’s relationship with God… Their relationship ended in a seemingly weird place, and although I do not doubt the immensity of their love, I see a constant looking back into the past as a definition of love. But he claims a deep love and I do find that evident, so perhaps it is simply an inexperienced outsiders critiques.
In all honesty, I struggle with Vanauken’s Christian journey. There are spaces where I deeply resonate such as his commitment to “choose God” as opposed to an emotional and total handing over, and the inescapability of Christianity.
Which I will note pause here to write about —> one of my greatest appreciations in this book was his honesty about the struggle between the Christian joy’s requirements, and what worldly joy is. For Vanauken and Davy, their life had been set on a course to fully enjoy life, love, and beauty, for them exemplified in being free in the ocean, yachting. Upon conversion, they are struck with the reality that this may not be compatible with Christianity, because where does responsibility now lie? I have too often struggled with this, my own desires to live in ease and beauty, and the compulsory nature of the gospel. The responsibility we have to love God and our neighbors must be our greatest joy, and “Lord help my unbelief” in that. It is no longer a life revolving around the I or as Lewis claimed about their relationship, centered far too much on the “US” the “Us-God” instead of the “God-us”.
Now back to my critique: Yet, his journey seemed to miss a large part of the love of God himself. Even when he was writing about time, eternity, and his picture of heaven, his focus seemed on the ability to meet Davy again, and to contemplate beauty and timeless moments. WHILE I appreciate this, as a heaven lover myself (Maranatha am I right), I cling to Lewis’ words in A Grief Observed, that if you approach God as a means to an end, “then you are not really approaching Him at all.” (which note: is exactly what Lewis struggled with but seemed to later understand). I’m not sure that Vanauken ever really shifted his view towards God as the ultimate good, as opposed to love and beauty. He was a lover of beauty, and while I think this a good, I think it an error on his part to not attempt a redirection.
This book overall was not what I was expecting… I thought it would be more of an exploration of grief, but the grief part felt like a reiteration of all that had been said. Instead I was reading a beautiful marriage narrative. After hearing people rave about this book, it felt a little disappointing. If I were to suggest a book on grief and loss, I prefer A Grief Observed.
However, again, a beautiful writer, so here are some quotes:
“The best argument for Christianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness. But the strongest argument against Christianity is also Christians—when they are sombre and joy-less, when they are self-righteous and smug in complacent consecration, when they are narrow and repressive, then Chris-tianity dies a thousand deaths.”
“The Holy Spirit is after you. I doubt if you’ll get away!” - Lewis Quote!!
“We talked, I recall, about death or, rather, awakening after death. Whatever it would be like, we thought, our response to it would be ‘Why, of course! Of course it’s like this. How else could it have possibly been.’”
“But, though I wouldn’t have admitted it, even to myself, I didn’t want God aboard. He was too heavy. I wanted Him approving from a considerable distance. I didn’t want to be thinking of Him. I wanted to be free—like Gypsy. I wanted life itself, the colour and fire and loveliness of life. And Christ now and then, like a loved poem I could read when I wanted to. I didn’t want us to be swallowed up in God. I wanted holidays from the school of Christ. We should, somehow, be able to have the Shining Barrier intact and follow the King of Glory. I didn’t want to be a saint. Almost none of this did I consciously know—just longings.”
“If everything is lost, thanks be to God If I must see it go, watch it go, Watch it fade away, die Thanks be to God that He is all I have And if I have Him not, I have nothing at all Nothing at all, only a farewell to the wind Farewell to the grey sky Goodbye, God be with you evening October sky. If all is lost, thanks be to God, For He is He, and I, I am only I.”
September 5, 2025
Tragic and beautiful.
But also deeply convicting. If God must be "overwhelmingly first or nothing," then every human love must be surrendered and "swallowed up in God." We may want nothing so little, but we need nothing more.
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"A mercy as severe as death, a severity as merciful as love.”
But also deeply convicting. If God must be "overwhelmingly first or nothing," then every human love must be surrendered and "swallowed up in God." We may want nothing so little, but we need nothing more.
__
"A mercy as severe as death, a severity as merciful as love.”
January 12, 2019
It's appropriate that this book was given me by a dear friend with this inscription: "Thank you for sharing with me so many moments made eternity." Because while A Severe Mercy is about many things—love, loss, grief, England, idolatry, sacrifice, resurrection—it struck me deepest as a book about friendship.
There's the man-and-wife friendship between Vanauken and his wife ("Davy"); the brother bond between Vanauken and C.S. Lewis; the happy connection that springs up when any Lewis fan feels like they've become a Lewis friend, just by reading; the meeting of like minds between Vanauken, Davy, Lewis, and anyone else who has ever felt that stab of longing for eternity that propels their lives.
This book is for everyone. You might not be married. You might not have had a happy childhood home. You might not love poetry or England or sailing. But everyone has their Davy. Everyone has their Glenmerle. Everyone has their Beauty, their Oxford, their Grey Goose. Because everyone is on a quest for Joy that is really longing for heaven: the ultimate homecoming.
No matter how, exactly, it touches you, A Severe Mercy will change your life. It's a thunderclap on either shoulder, knighting us whether we think we're ready or not. Whatever we love or long for, say with Vanauken: "I rolled it all together into a ball...and I offered [it up] to the King."
There's the man-and-wife friendship between Vanauken and his wife ("Davy"); the brother bond between Vanauken and C.S. Lewis; the happy connection that springs up when any Lewis fan feels like they've become a Lewis friend, just by reading; the meeting of like minds between Vanauken, Davy, Lewis, and anyone else who has ever felt that stab of longing for eternity that propels their lives.
This book is for everyone. You might not be married. You might not have had a happy childhood home. You might not love poetry or England or sailing. But everyone has their Davy. Everyone has their Glenmerle. Everyone has their Beauty, their Oxford, their Grey Goose. Because everyone is on a quest for Joy that is really longing for heaven: the ultimate homecoming.
No matter how, exactly, it touches you, A Severe Mercy will change your life. It's a thunderclap on either shoulder, knighting us whether we think we're ready or not. Whatever we love or long for, say with Vanauken: "I rolled it all together into a ball...and I offered [it up] to the King."
August 24, 2007
The first half plus of the book I found enchanting and enriching. It was eye-opening to me as an on-looker at the beauty of relationships between man and woman, of the mystery of God’s drawing grace and penetration of skepticism (with some real kickers from Lewis about the threshold or leap of faith…see pg. 88). There is true depth and a special resonance with much of Vanauken’s musings for me, such as his thoughts of beauty. It seems to strike a human tone—many things in his book. After Davy’s death, some of his thoughts were beyond my experience and not as enthralling. These included his philosophizing of what would have happened if Davy had not died, etc. At times I felt cheated, since he seemed to rely on Lewis’ name; at times I felt like a buyer being coaxed into a business deal I wasn’t interested in. But nonetheless, the final chapter about the “second death” of grief itself dying was a fascinating and deep journey for me. I find the book overall an excellent read, especially for my season in life. Should I ever grieve, which someday I truly will, this should be a comfort, though a painful one, perhaps.
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