What The Inklings Teach Us About Creativity

Oct 22
3 min read

In high school, I took a course that changed my life. The year was dedicated to the works of The Inklings, a writing and literary group connected with Oxford University. Among this group were men such as C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Owen Barfield, and Charles Williams.
Academically it was the most difficult year I’ve had in school, and that includes my time in grad school. Mid-year, I quit. I had lots of reasons why it wasn’t worth my time. When will I ever use Mere Christianity or The Abolition of Man; tell me the practical purpose of Charles Williams’ odd suspense novels like Many Dimensions or Descent into Hell. But over Christmas break, for some reason, I had a change of heart–or God’s providence swept in at the right moment.
By the time the year concluded, I realized I had encountered a great tradition, a river that had flowed for centuries. And these Christian thinkers like C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien were not only skilled writers but brilliant artists.
The Inklings teach us much, but here are two nuggets with help from an excellent book called Bandersnatch: C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and the Creative Collaboration of the Inklings.
Creativity Needs Fellowship
Did you know J.R.R. Tolkien took about 12 years to write The Lord of the Rings? And The Inklings helped shape it. C.S. Lewis pushed Tolkien to keep working on the story, often providing thoughts to sharpen it. C.S. Lewis and Rayner Unwin agreed there was too much hobbit talk (5). Tolkien listened. I’m glad he did.
So, the first nugget of wisdom is that creativity needs a fellowship.
I write this in protest–as I'm a true introvert. I’m the guy who goes to the movies by himself, and loves it. But when I think of my plays and articles and videos, I know this is true.
We can create by ourselves, but eventually we need other perspectives. Eventually, we’ll need encouragement to keep creating when we don’t know where to go next. And while it may be fun to create by ourselves it’s rarely fun doing it just for ourselves. We need an audience.
And it Means Multiple Perspectives
We also need an audience that will offer feedback, even if it’s critical.
Did you know that some members of the Inklings were not fans of The Chronicles of Narnia? And scholars disagree as to why (65-66). They speculate it could be that Tolkien didn’t like how he mixed a variety of mythologies, or that he was jealous of Lewis’s ability to write books swiftly, or finally that he just really disliked allegory.
Writing to a reader, Tolkien said, “[B]ut since you ask if I like them I am afraid the answer is No. I do not like ‘allegory’, and least of all religious allegory of this kind” (66). This is ironic for two reasons: Lewis did not see Narnia as an allegory (see “Why Narnia Isn’t Allegorical”), and secondly, Tolkien wrote one of my favorite books, Leaf by Niggle, which feels very much like an allegory (67). Thankfully, another Inkling, Roger Green disagreed with Tolkien and said The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe was “more than good” and certainly worth continuing (65).
Creativity needs a fellowship, but within that is room for personal taste and disagreement. To use Paul’s imagery, the Church is the Body of Christ: some are hands, some are feet, some are eyes. It’d be odd if we agreed on everything, and I don’t think it’d be healthy.
Well, there it is: two simple things The Inklings teach us! Send me a note if you’d like to learn more insights.
Enjoyed this article?
Subscribe to the Stage & Story newsletter. This monthly newsletter is designed to help you think biblically about story, culture, and the Christian imagination.

Dane Bundy is president of Stage & Story and Director of Fine Arts at Regents School of Austin.









Comments