A Ghost argues /with the Bright Spirit //who was her brother Reginald:
‘It’s a lie. A wicked, cruel lie.
How could anyone love their son more than I did?
Haven’t I lived /only for his memory /all these years?’
‘That was rather a mistake, Pam. In your heart of hearts you know () it was.’
‘What was a mistake?’
‘All that ten years’ ritual of grief.
Keeping his room /exactly as he’d left it; keeping anniversaries;
refusing to leave that house /though Dick and Muriel were both wretched there.’
‘Of course they didn’t care. I know that. I soon learned [to expect no real sympathy from them].’
‘You’re wrong. No man ever felt his son’s death more than Dick.
Not many girls loved their brothers /better than Muriel.
It wasn’t against Michael () they revolted:
it was against you—against having their whole life dominated by the tyranny of the past:
and not really even Michael’s past, but your past.’
‘You are heartless. Everyone is heartless. The past was [all () I had.’
‘It was all () you chose to have.
It was the wrong way to deal with a sorrow.
It was Egyptian—like embalming a dead body.’
‘Oh, of course. I’m wrong. [Everything () I say or do] is wrong, according to you.’
‘But of course!’ said the Spirit, shining with love and mirth /so that my eyes were dazzled.
‘That’s [what we all find /when we reach this country].
We’ve all been wrong! That’s the great joke.
There’s no need to go on pretending () one was right!
After that we begin living.’
From The Great Divorce
Compiled in A Year with C.S. Lewis