And in a movie based on a second rate book written by an alcoholic Socialist who hated his middle American origins, and spent the remainder of his life spewing out works which ridiculed those who rejected him while a youth in MN. He died a drunk.
Lewis is a quintessential example of a mediocre writer who was touted as talented by the Leftist critics of the 30s who came to dominate such publications as the NYT and other literary outlets. He was promoted due to his political content, not his writing ability. Among that number you can include Hemingway, Steinbeck, and a host of others. Their "talent" consisted of being PC.
All taught in public school as great American Literature, sigh.
Wrong about Steinbeck. He wrote his share of PC — but he wrote his share of downright good stuff (very little of it his famous stuff). The Winter of our Discontent. East of Eden. Cannery Row. My favorite, Sweet Thursday. Good books are like works of art — you don’t buy a painting, look at it once, and put it away. Same with a great book. His are among the few books that re-read well. Especially Sweet Thursday ... pure mastery.