Judgement On Orual

Judgement On Orual 

Connections with Lewis: Till We Have Faces

November 25, 2016

“Orual of Glome,” the voice bellowed. “Come see me at once.” Mustering every ounce of Queenly courage she held, Orual strode off the podium on which she stood giving her defense. As she exited the courtroom there was a large thick navy curtain on her left. The man who had summoned her was standing next to it, motioning for her to step on the other side of the curtain with him. She did so. The man was tall and lean, much larger than Orual herself. He introduced himself as the poet of the gods. For a moment she wanted to laugh. A poet of the gods? The fact that such a position existed seemed baffling to her. What have the gods to do with poetry, she thought? Then another thought came to her. Perhaps it is another one of their crafty methods to lure in mortal beauty. Perhaps it had been used on Psyche herself! The though infuriated her. “Silence,” the man spoke. Though she had not yet uttered a word in his presence Orual reacted as if she had been speaking. For she perceived the man to be some sort of seer; one who could read her thoughts. “Perhaps your plight with the gods has not been what you think it to be,” the man said. This time, Orual was ready to listen. Something about the man’s slow, methodically fluid diction calmed her, while also engaging her sharpest attention. “You’ve seen all Psyche did but all with the wrong eyes. You see, Orual, it’s not so important what you see but how you see. That makes all the difference. Unless you learn to see straight you will always be worlds away from Psyche; your love nothing more than a greedy grasp. For up to this point, it has all gone this way for you.” Psyche is always in front of you if only you could see her.” “But what must I do to see her?” Orual replied imploringly. Over the next few hours, the poet of the gods told Orual the entire story from Psyche’s vantage point. By the story’s end, Orual was sobbing. “Oh Psyche! Always you were with me. But I was blind. Now I see it was you, always you!” she cried. “Psyche is gone now, dear Orual. You must face this. But from this moment she has arisen, inside of you. You have been called to carry out her story. For the same spirit of Psyche’s story now lives in you. And that the judgement the gods pass on you: to live out her story as she lived out yours. Now you have seen what she has seen. Keep this always before you and you will be free. There will be nothing in which you cannot find glory.” With this the poet of the gods disappeared behind the curtain, leaving Orual alone.