To my mind [art and literature] are only healthy when they are either (a) Definitely the handmaids of religious, or at least moral, truth – or (b) Admittedly aiming at nothing but innocent recreation or entertainment. Dante’s alright, and Pickwick is alright. But the great serious irreligious are – art for art’s sake – is all balderdash; and, incidentally, never exists when art is really flourishing. … ‘[Art] ceases to be a devil when it ceases to be a god’.
– C.S. Lewis in a letter to a friend
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