📚 Finished reading: Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis, who was clearly a genius with words. The elevator pitch — a retelling of the Greek myth of Eros/Cupid and Psyche from the perspective of one of Psyche’s sisters — does not do it justice. It is, most of all, the clearest and the most visceral explanation of myth and myth-making I’ve encountered since Girard. Indeed, there is a clear connection between the two.

And I know I keep dunking on poor Joseph Campbell, but “Till We Have Faces” also showed how poor of an attempt Campbell’s was to explain myth by intellectualizing it, and turn every old tale into monomythical slop.