CS Lewis' The Great Divorce: The Relationship Between Heaven and Hell

In his book, The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis explores the relationship between heaven and hell, connecting life before death to what comes after. Lewis employs a sort of fantasy-style approach to theology in the book, avoiding more conventional, straight-forward approaches seen in the vast majority of theological works. In this post, I will explain and detail The Great Divorce’s treatment of Heaven, Hell, and their impact on determining the totality of experience. From this groundwork, I will evaluate the views presented, concluding that while unorthodox in methodology, The Great Divorce offers readers a fresh and useful perspective on Heaven and Hell, while appealing to many Christians’ deep hope of an inclusive Heaven.

1. The Nature of Lewis’ Project

 Before jumping into the theological content of The Great Divorce, it is important to first examine Lewis’ stated approach to his methodology and aims as found in the preface. At the end of the preface, Lewis clearly gives readers context for their reading experience (pp. x):

I beg readers to remember that this is a fantasy. It has of course – or I intend it to have – a moral. But the transmortal conditions are solely an imaginative supposal: they are not even a guess or a speculation at what may actually await us. The last thing I wish is to arouse factual curiosity about the details of the after-world.

Lewis is not aiming at a literal description of heaven and the afterlife, but rather giving readers a fantastical setting to enrich the moral and theological threads he weaves through the book. Readers then should not waste their time engaging with the minute and descriptive details of Heaven and Hell as places (whether physical or ethereal), but rather engage with the sort of described character that governs each location respectively. With this clarification in mind, readers are prepared to enter the rich fantasy setting Lewis has created.

2. The Relationship between Life on Earth, Heaven, and Hell

2.1 Hell

Before we can say much about the relationship between life on earth, heaven, and hell, I think it is important for us to get a good picture of the character of these locations (for lack of a better word to describe them) as Lewis displays them. Looking at Hell, as the narrator sees it in his brief time there, one sees a very bleak, depressing setting. In some ways though, this picture given is quite different than many Christians’ usual conceptions of hell. Rather than a dramatic, extreme setting of fire and terror, readers are given a setting that more closely mirrors abandoned, downtown regions of cities that are commonly seen today. While the narrator’s experience of Hell is rather short, readers are given a fuller description through his interactions with other individuals on the departing bus he boards.

Individuals departing Hell seem to all share in a dissatisfaction, prompting their departures. One man seeks intellectual fulfillment, another seeks recognition and appreciation, while yet another seeks to bring something real – “that you could really bite or drink or sit on” (pp. 13). The list goes on, but what can be seen here is the sort of deficient character that defines what Hell is for Lewis. In particular, the man noting the absence of “real” things in Hell, although seeing the problem from a business perspective, sums up what all of the characters bear witness to: Hell doesn’t immediately strike one as a terrible place, but when glimpses of the real (Heaven) are had, Hell’s deficiencies immediately makes themselves known. Hell is deficient, lacking the qualities that make individuals truly human. Hell accommodates a complacent contentedness (in the absolute weakest sense of the word), stripping individuals of the goodness God has created them with.

Moving forward with these ideas, we should also examine another thing the man (who wants to bring something “real” back to Hell) says: “The trouble is they (the people of Hell) have no Needs” (pp. 13). People in hell can get what they want by simply imaging it; however, the sort of things they get model the deficiency of Hell due to the lack of quality they exhibit. Here it seems Lewis is touching on a very interesting aspect of the relationship between Hell and humanity. Humanity, as created good by God, is dependent on him. This dependence is a positive aspect of humanity as it helps us to be in proper relationship with God. However in Hell, which Lewis has already described as having a sort of dehumanizing effect on individuals, individuals are separated from God, and thus can’t have a proper dependent relationship with him. This is an almost paradoxical problem for readers to think about however, as most individuals take dependence to be a sort of reduction of independence. If Hell’s character makes things deficient, then how should one think about something most individuals already consider a deficiency? Lewis seems to answer this question by turning dependence back towards independence. However, this resulting independence is certainly not really a true independence in that individuals aren’t free. Rather, individuals are helplessly dependent on themselves, having chosen to rely on themselves but unable to provide for themselves. So, while individuals have no needs in the sense that they can get what they think they want by imagining it, they are unable to get what they really desire and need due to the nature of their twisted independent dependence.

This idea of a chosen independent dependence shows itself later on in the book when MacDonald comments on the narrator’s description of Hell as a state of mind (pp. 70):

Hell is a state of mind - ye never said a truer word. And every state of mind, left to itself, every shutting up of the creature within the dungeon of its own mind-is, in the end, Hell.

One can see the rejection of God in favor of embracing a reduced version of oneself as characterizing Hell. This self-absorbed state of mind contributes to and, in a sense, is Hell. With Lewis’ description of Hell developed (although certainly not exhaustively), it is time to turn and look at the character of Heaven.

2.2 Heaven

The light and coolness that drenched me were like those of summer morning, early morning a minute or to before the sunrise, only that there was a certain difference. I had the sense of being in a larger space, perhaps even a larger sort of space, than I had ever known before: as if the sky were further off and the extent of the green plain wider than they could be on this little ball of earth. I had got “out” in some sense which made the Solar System itself seem an indoor affair. It gave me a feeling of freedom, but also of exposure, possibly of danger, which continued to accompany me through all that followed. It is the inducing you to remember it as I proceeded, which makes me despair of conveying the real quality of what I saw and heard. (pp. 19)

The above is the narrator’s initial description of witnessing Heaven. Already, one can see a sharp and profound distinction from the prior description of Hell. Whereas Hell seemed dark, suffocating, and deficient, Heaven in contrast seems bright, open, and real in a sense that we can’t even fully comprehend in our present state. While this welcome contrast likely won’t seem too out of place for most readers, Heaven doesn’t seem to fully fit into the conception that many individuals have of it. This idea is witnessed in many of the encounters between the not-fully real ghosts (individuals coming from Hell/Purgatory[these are distinguished in section 2.3]) and the fully real spirits (citizens of Heaven).

In these ghost-spirit interactions readers witness individuals hung up on various aspects of themselves, preventing them from entering into heaven. For one man it is his sense of moral superiority over a murder (pp. 28), for another it is his obsession with abstract intellect as an end in itself (pp.40), and for yet another man it is his unwillingness to trust in God coupled with his expectations of God handing him everything on a silver platter (figuratively speaking) (pp. 54-55). The point being driven at in these ghost-spirit interactions is that individuals need to let go of their self-made identities and images if they are to enter into heaven. As one spirit says, "Friend, could you, only for a moment, fix your mind on something not yourself?" (pp. 62).

This self-obsessed state of mind, as previously touched on as leading to Hell, needs to be eliminated through the choice of an individual. This choice between self and God is what Lewis sees as ultimately determining the residency of individuals in either Heaven or Hell. MacDonald addresses this issue in response to the narrator’s concern that not everyone gets a fair chance at Heaven (pp. 75):

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, in the end, 'Thy will be done.' All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened.

Individuals need to allow their own selves to die so that they can become fully real in and through God. It is through having an identity completely in God that individuals can move forward into their final and full purpose. This fulfillment in choosing God over oneself is witnessed in a female spirit’s interaction with her former friend/partner, Frank (pp. 126):

What needs could I have," she said, "now that I have all? I am full now, not empty. I am in Love Himself, not lonely. Strong, not weak. You shall be the same. Come and see. We shall have no need for one another now: we can begin to love truly."

Lewis has outlined the reverse trajectory of the sort of twisted independent dependence found in Hell. Rather than the deficiency of choosing to depend on oneself, citizens of Heaven have complete fulfillment by freely choosing to fully submit to and depend on God, realizing their true potential in him. Heaven is thus characterized by a sort of hyper-realness (a true realness not possible on earth) which is only made possible by fully embracing and choosing God.

2.3 Heaven and Hell as Determining the Totality of Experience

Before evaluating Lewis’ conception of Heaven and Hell, there is a bit more to their relationship that should be touched upon. Lewis spends a considerable amount of time later on into the book elaborating on an individual’s path to his/her ultimate destination, be it Heaven or Hell. MacDonald speaks for Lewis while answering some of the narrator’s questions about a possible departure from Hell into Heaven (pp. 68):

“But I don't understand. Is judgment not final? Is there really a way out of Hell into Heaven?"
"It depends on the way you're using the words. If they leave that grey town behind it will not have been Hell. To any that leaves it, it is Purgatory. And perhaps ye had better not call this country Heaven. Not Deep Heaven, ye understand." (Here he smiled at me). "Ye can call it the Valley of the Shadow of Life. And yet to those who stay here it will have been Heaven from the first. And ye can call those sad streets in the town yonder the Valley of the Shadow of Death: but to those who remain there they will have been Hell even from the beginning.”

Here one sees glimpses of what some individuals may assert to be Universalist traits in Lewis’ description. The description given here of a possible move from Hell to Heaven fits into Lewis’ fantastical writing well as it doesn’t seem to quite make sense to readers who bring with them their traditional understanding of space and temporality. What ultimately defines each location for each individual seems to be the permanence of each individual’s residency. Those who end up in Heaven will have been in Heaven from the moment they entered what is described as not quite Heaven (“The Valley of the Shadow of Life”). Individuals who started off on the dark city streets of what is seemingly Hell will have only been in Purgatory if they wind up residing in Heaven, while those who permanently remain there (the dark city streets) will be and have been in Hell all along. For Lewis, it seems as if the final destination dictates what the entire experience has been. Lewis uses MacDonald again to clarify and work out this idea further: (pp. 69)

Not only this valley but all this earthly past will have been Heaven to those who are saved. Not only the twilight in that town, but all their life on earth too, will then be seen by the damned to have been Hell. That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, 'No future bliss can make up for it,' not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. And of some sinful pleasure they say 'Let me but have this and I'll take the consequences': little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. Both processes begin even before death. The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man's past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why, at the end of all things, when the sun rises here and the twilight turns to blackness down there, the Blessed will say, 'We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven,' and the Lost, 'We were always in Hell.' And both will speak truly.

Lewis is affirming this idea of individuals’ final destinations determining the totality of their experiences, not just of the afterlife, but of earthly life as well. Heaven and Hell can be seen then as the only two complete, possible experiences for individuals. Each works back throughout a person’s life based on the eventual choice that person makes in regards to choosing his/her self or choosing God. This process of reverse-operation is beyond our given and apparent conception of space and temporality.

3. Evaluating Lewis’ Views

With views of Heaven and Hell explained as they are described in The Great Divorce, I will now (admittedly, subjectively) evaluate said views. To begin with, and perhaps most importantly, I believe it necessary to comment on Lewis’ approach to the book. While I typically appreciate a straightforward expository approach to theological issues, I believe that Lewis’ fantastical approach in his treatment of Heaven and Hell was an excellent choice. The value of this approach is twofold.

Firstly, Lewis’ admission of a fantasy style keeps readers from becoming too hung up on trivial and minute details. Lewis isn’t interested in giving a realist (at least in the physical sense) account of what Heaven and Hell are quantitatively like. Rather, he is aiming for a description of the character of each, guiding readers to theological truth rather than any sort of scientific (if you can call it that) truth. This ties into the second and perhaps even more significant virtue of this approach in that as a fantasy description, Lewis’ description actually lies closer to the reality of heaven. To qualify this, I am by no means calling Heaven a fantasy in the sense of something made up or imaginary. Rather, I am drawing out the surrealism of fantasy in describing the surpassing nature of heaven. Heaven transcends human beings’ complete understanding. We may be able to have glimpses of Heaven, but its very essence is beyond us. By describing Heaven in the style of fantasy, Lewis is able to simultaneously draw out its other-worldly character and prevent readers from developing their own individual views of Heaven grounded in who they are as individuals. We can see this prevention as a valuable action in The Great Divorce itself. Part of many individuals’ struggles regarding entering Heaven involve their own self-assured conceptions of Heaven. By emphasizing Heaven as surpassing humanity’s full understanding, Lewis is suggesting that readers hold an openness to what God has in store.

Overall, I generally agree with the descriptions Lewis has given both Heaven and Hell. I think both are necessarily dependent on the relationship of individuals’ own dependence with God. I don’t believe that God simply has humans run through life as a sort of obstacle course, but rather gives humans life and freedom so that they can develop character which will ultimately decide whether to fully accept God or to fully be absorbed in one’s own self. Any sort of Universalist elements which pop up in The Great Divorce don’t really bother me. I think most, if not all Christians, hope in their innermost beings that the all-loving God they know will allow anyone (at any time) to choose him and enter into Heaven. However, this deep hope is something which is hard to wrestle with as the Bible (in its canonical form) doesn’t seem to clearly assert such an idea anywhere in its pages. Christians must then explore how to deal with this tension between the (literally) stated and the seemingly implied. Practically, from my skeptical/conservative epistemic platform, I think in our everyday interactions we as Christians need to err away from Universalist tendencies in respect for and submission to the concepts we see regarding salvation as found in the Bible. However, knowing God to be beyond our own full understanding, I see no problem in hoping that he may yet find another way in which to shatter our expectations and ultimately fulfill our deepest hopes.

“The Twenty-fourth Century Ghost”

The following is a ghost short story I had to write for one my English classes. It definitely isn't top notch, but hopefully some people find it entertaining (the afterword is short and abrupt because I had to keep it to one page).

I carried it with me everywhere. The weight of what I had done, no, the weight of what I had failed to do had stayed with me for sixteen years. Sixteen years of missing those secret moments together. Sixteen years of missing her. I had endured though. The darkness I carried had shaped my career, driven me to strive farther than I could have ever possibly imagined. But now, I was finally cracking under the weight. My once stalwart nature was now decrepit. I was rotting from the inside, the darkness consuming me.

I stared hard into the mirror before me. I was met by a gaunt, ragged face marked with a pallid complexion and two sunken, brown eyes. God, I had let myself go. Despite the tightly cropped haircut and beard, I looked nothing like a warship captain on the cusp of promotion. No, I looked like a man trying to survive one more day. One more night. One more encounter with her.

***

Kathryn and I had met the very first day of academy training. She was a tall woman, with jet black hair and shockingly blue eyes. She had a smile that could melt the bit of icecaps which still remained back on Earth. She- well, in short, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She had walked into our Introduction to FTL Navigation class laughing with a friend. I sat frozen in my seat, gawking like some sort of ape. After what may have been anything from seconds to eternity, I recovered from my stupor as she and her friend sat down – regretfully - on the opposite side of the classroom. I managed to sneak out of the classroom’s backdoor without anyone noticing. Thankfully, I had been one of the first students to arrive to class and had sat in the back where I had remained relatively unnoticed. Walking back up the corridor, I entered the classroom and confidently strode across the room, taking up a seat adjacent to Kathryn. Feeling I had perhaps been a little too bold in my direct entrance, I decided to do some damage control.

“Is this Intro to FTL Navigation?” I asked, feigning uncertainty.

She turned to face me, her eyes wide with mock concern. “Well I certainly hope so, considering you’ve walked into the room at least twice now.” Her piercing blue eyes now danced with laughter.

I grimaced. I guess someone had noticed my departure after all. Despite the strong feeling of embarrassment which rose into my cheeks, I chuckled and extended a hand. “Jim. Jim Engee.”

She returned the gesture and we shook. “Kathryn Aidanso,” she said, brushing some hair behind her ear with her hand before returning it to her side.

At that moment the professor came on over the room’s holo-projectors and immediately began his lecture, the details fully escaping me. I was too preoccupied, wondering whether Kathryn’s observation should leave me feeling embarrassed or flattered.

***

The year was 2342. I was in my last semester of the Sol Ascendancy Academy and had been stationed with Kathryn on the frontier planet of Horizon. All in all, it wasn’t a bad assignment. Sure, it was a remote and rather primitive planet, but as frontier planets went it was relatively safe, lying parsecs away from any recorded confrontations with the Verlind. Moreover, Horizon itself was beautiful. Verdant, green rainforests, sparklingly blue oceans, and tall, snow-covered mountains dominated the landscape of the nearly untouched planet. It also didn’t hurt that I had been stationed there with Kathryn. We’d become fast friends in our first year of the academy and had been romantically involved soon after. Of course, due to military regs, the true nature of our relationship was a secret to everyone but us.

One night, Kathryn and I laid out on the beach together, her head resting on my chest. We gazed up at the radiating stars above us, listening to the gentle crashes of the waves upon the shore. Who said you could only appreciate a day at the beach? It’s not like we had much of a choice anyway, as we needed to keep our relationship discrete. Enjoying the night atmosphere and each other’s presence, we basked in the silence that had fallen between us. We had already talked plenty tonight. Now we had earned the right to savor the well-earned silence that exists between two people who completely know each other. That comfortable silence, whose presence tells you that you are whole with the other. Finally, she spoke. The silence dissolved, but its warm glow remained.

“We should get back. Someone’s bound to notice we’re gone sooner or later.”

I sighed. “I hate it when you’re right. These new frequent shift changes have really put a damper on our late night escapades. I mean, sure the colonists have been getting unruly, but does command really think they’re ever going to attack base? If the colonists put one toe out of line, the fleet will hit them so fast and hard they’ll be gone before they can even feel it. With the Verlind looming, the SA isn’t going to put up with any rebellious, libertarian crap. Come fight with us, or stay out of our way.”

“I know, Jim,” Kathryn said softly. “But it only takes one idiot to cause a heap of trouble. You should know. Don’t you remember that incident on Artemis Prime in our third year at the academy when you-“

“Ok, ok. Point taken”

She continued on, grinning at my sensitivity. “Besides, just be grateful that we’re not out in the Tingle Arm fighting the Verlind. Now come on, let’s get back to base.”

Later, when we arrived back, I immediately knew something was wrong. The guards at the entrance to the barracks, whom we usually had to sneak past to get back in, weren’t there. Kathryn noticed it too.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Looks like power’s been cut to most of the base. It’s odd there’s not activity out here though. Maybe some sort of drill?”

"Let's hope that's it," I replied, and a cold, sinking feeling replaced the warmth of our trip to the beach. “You go check the barracks to see if anyone’s around. I’ll check the CIC and see what I can dig up.”

“All right,” she said. “But be careful.”

“Hey, come on. It’s me,” I said with a wink. She shook her head, rolled her eyes, and walked off towards the barracks.

Twenty minutes later I approached the barracks looking for Kathryn. I had learned that a group of radical colonists had somehow managed to capture the two dozen or so military personnel stationed on Horizon. Knowing that they wouldn’t be able to hold the base long from a retaliatory SA strike force, they were holding the hostages somewhere out in the rainforest, probably in a well-hidden bunker, hoping to negotiate military presence off Horizon. Fat chance that would happen.

I had made contact with the incoming strike force via lightcom and they had told me to sit tight. They would have everything under control. All that was left for me was to explain the situation to Kathryn and think up some plausible excuse as to why we weren’t on base when everyone else had been taken hostage. As I was about to open the barracks’ door, I froze, hearing voices.

“Shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to be here. I was just gonna sneak in, get some valuables, and get out. I'm not a rebel, I swear I'm not! I just didn't think anyone would notice if a few things went missing tonight, alright?"

“Please,” I heard Kathryn say. “Just take what you want and get out. I won’t tell anyone.” There was fear in her voice.

“Liar,” the first voice said. “If I let you go I’m a goner. You’re gonna spill the beans on me and I’m gonna be strung up just like them rebels.” Wasting no more time I barged through the door, my blaster trained on Kathryn’s assailant.

“Let her go,” I demanded.

“Can’t do that” he snarled, holding an old, twenty-second century style glock to Kathryn’s head and using her as a human shield. “Drop the blaster, or the girl gets it.”

“Jim, please. Don’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to be a hero,” she said.

“Let her go,” I repeated. The man was looking increasingly desperate. He knew that, one way or another, he was running out of time. My stomach churned. I couldn’t give him the chance to do anything stupid. I didn’t want to be a hero, but I needed to be. Seeing an opening, I took it. I exhaled deeply, focused my eyes, and squeezed the trigger.

I missed.

***

I carried her death with me every day. I had escaped justice by blaming the thief, whom I had conveniently killed, for her murder. After all, who was going to believe a dead, supposed rebel over an honorable service member like myself? Instead of allowing the event to permanently cripple me, I used it to drive me. For her I was going to become the best captain I could be. For her I was going to become the hero I had failed to be.

 Sixteen years later I had risen in the ranks to become one of the fleet’s best captains and was under consideration to become a vice-admiral; arguably, one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. I had recently survived a scare with cancer that had been discovered during a routine checkup – you’d think we have finally fully cured it after all these centuries – and was feeling the best I’d felt since before Kathryn’s death. My warship, the Venerator, was on patrol in the Tingle Arm – on lookout for the Verlind whom we mysteriously hadn’t encountered for over a decade – when the dreams began. Every night I began to dream about Kathryn and her death. The dreams grew progressively darker. She would just stare at me, face blood-splattered face and blue eyes wide with shock. One night, having awoken from yet another nightmare in a cold sweat, I decided to give up on sleep and found myself headed to the mess hall for a warm cup of tea. As I turned down one of the ship’s narrow, dimly-lit corridors, I stopped mid-stride.

She looked exactly how I had remembered her for the past sixteen years. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, her skin pale, but not ghastly. Unlike my dreams however, there was no blood on her face. Her blue eyes showed no surprise at seeing me there in the corridor; rather, her brow was furrowed and her gaze burrowed deep into me, suggesting something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Was it menace? We continued to stare, our eyes never breaking contact. The silence began to grow. It crescendoed until it screamed out to me. This was not the comfortable silence we had once known together. No, this silence was the silence of accusation. My palms began to sweat and my hands shook uncontrollably. I felt as if I were being swallowed into a void. I was paralyzed, helpless in the now unfamiliar face of what I had once known so well and intimately. Finally, with all the grit I had within me, I tore myself away from the silence’s gravitas.

“I’m sorry” I lamely blurted out. There was no answer. She made no movement. I began to walk towards her, closing the gap between us. “Why are you here?” I asked, my voice shifting from a tone of desperation to one of demand. “What do you want?” I bellowed at her. As I was about to grab her shoulders, a voice from behind startled me, causing me to turn sharply.

“Sir?” a hesitant voice asked, edged with concern. “Is everything all right?” It was Ensign Jenkins, a young communication specialist from Earth on his first assignment. I turned back to face Kathryn but all that greeted me was the corridor wall. She was gone, once again.

“Y-yeah, yes, yes. Every- everything’s fine.” I quickly murmured. “Just, just needed to do some late night, uh, brainstorming out of my, out of my cabin” I said, obviously failing to cover up my behavior. Jenkins didn’t look at all convinced. “You should get back to the comm.,” I said. “Never know who’s going to come calling.”

***

She hounded me. My dreams had turned so dark that I was now hardly sleeping anymore. Worse, when I would wake, she would be there, staring at me in silent accusation, never responding to my questions or pleas. I tried to brush her cheek once with my hand, but my body froze centimeters from her, seemingly preventing me from touching her. She was always there in the night, but wholly unknowable to me.

My work began to suffer. I was losing control of the crew. I heard their whispers as I would walk by them. Their concerned stares followed me wherever I went. I finally decided to visit the ship’s doctor, Callista Stevens. She was one of the best doctors in the fleet and had been assigned to the Venerator after my recent scare with cancer.

            “So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” I tried to ask nonchalantly.

            “You say you’ve been having some insomnia?” she asked. I had left out some of the details of my situation. I couldn’t afford to come clean, not when I’d come so far in my career. One admission that I had been seeing a dead person and I’d have been stripped of command faster than I could I have blinked.

            “Yeah, it’s probably nothing though. Just figured I might as well bring it up since I was due for a checkup anyway.” She looked into my eyes for a brief second. Her face flashed... something, but I couldn’t read it.

            “Well, Captain, I didn’t pick up anything abnormal with my tests so I don’t know what to tell you. If you feel things are getting worse though, please, don’t hesitate to see me.” As I left I noticed her scribbling something down hard into her holo-board. Doctors and their damn charts.

***

I’ve thought about going back to see the Doc since then. I think about it every day. The nights have only gotten worse. Kathryn’s always there now, in the night. I know why too, even if she won’t tell me. She’s come back for justice. I may have escaped it sixteen years ago, but I can’t run forever. Did I really push myself for her sake, or was it just for my own benefit? Was it just my own way of lying to myself to cope with the guilt? Even if it was for her, does she care? She’s dead because of me, because of my failure. A failure for which even the greatest achievements can’t compensate for. Even in the twenty-fourth century, human nature hasn’t changed from what it was in primal civilization. Justice always has and will always be an eye for an eye. A life for a life.

I turn from the mirror and stare out the small viewport into the empty void of space. Tiny pinpoints of starlight are nearly swallowed by the immense darkness. I’ve thought about dumping myself out an airlock. To allow myself to finally be swallowed by the void. God, I hope I fade into nothingness when I die. Anything to escape. I decide the airlock’s not the best way to go though. I’d probably get caught before I could make it out, and whatever happens, this needs to end now. I can’t face another night, can’t survive another encounter with her.

Drawing my blaster from its holster, I raise it to my head. Might as well end this the way it began. If anyone can understand a complete cycle, ghosts must be able to. I exhale deeply, close my eyes, and squeeze the tr-

***

Far away, back on Earth, two men watched Jim’s vitals flat line. “Dammit,” one said. “I really thought he was going to be the one.”

The other man sighed. “You’ve said that about almost every candidate so far.”

“I know, I know,” the first man said, resigned. “It’s just… do you ever feel guilty? You know, about what we’re doing?”

The other man turned to regard the first, his head cocked slightly. “Every day,” he said gravely. After a brief pause he laughed. “Christ no, how would I ever get any sleep? The candidates are necessary. While they may be ignorant of some of the, uh, finer points regarding their service, they all willingly gave their consent when they swore to protect Earth and her colonies.”

“But are they really doing that?” the first man insistently asked. The other man now looked at the first in complete surprise.

“Of course they are” he stated. “You know what’s at stake here. You know we need to find someone to command the fleet against the Verlind.”

“Yes,” the first man said, resigned. “I know that we need someone who can resist the mental influence of the Verlind. Someone who won’t be compromised of his ability to effectively lead and defeat the enemy. But how do we even know for a fact that the Verlind can control or even influence our thoughts? What’s more, why don’t we ever lie to any of the current admirals and make up some bullshit about them having cancer so that we can implant them with cognitive influencing devices?”

The other man began to grow agitated and angry. “You’ve seen the old reports from first contact showing the brain activity of some of the survivors of Verlind attacks. You know perfectly well that PTSD can’t fully account for some of the observed abnormalities. You’ve also seen the battle logs. It would be far too generous to pass off some of the captains’ behaviors as simply irrational.  Do we know for certain that the Verlind can screw with our minds? No, but we can’t take any chances. We need to hit them hard and with everything we’ve got before they come back and finish what they started.”

“And,” he continued on, “you also know perfectly well why we can’t test the admirals’ minds. They’re the ones who commissioned this project in the first place. No way in hell are they going to let us mess around inside their heads.”

The first man sat there, looking unconvinced. Finally, he spoke. “Shall I close the file?”

“Yes, and open up the file on candidate number 378. We need to finish up the 300’s soon if we’re going to get any work done on the 400’s before the end of the year.”

Afterword

            “The Twenty-fourth Century Ghost” came about as a sort of exploration of the question “where might ghosts in a technologically advanced future come from?” The answer which the story provides doesn’t actually drastically differ from modern or past ghost stories. While the exact means and mechanisms of ghost appearances may change with the times, the general theory behind the appearance of ghosts remains the same: the most potent and frightening ghosts arise when our deepest fears and regrets intersect with the right opportunity (often others exploiting for gain). So, while on the one hand this story is unconventional due to its science-fiction setting, it remains conventional in its approach and philosophy of ghosts.

Most of the story deals with Jim’s own fear and regrets. The ghost is clearly born from and dependent on Jim’s own regret and shame towards the night that he accidentally killed Kathryn. It’s hard to feel sorry for Jim’s torment during most of the story. Yes, he is suffering from regret and fear, but it seems that in many ways he brought this predicament on himself. When Jim commits suicide, readers may feel that justice and resolution have been reached. Jim has finally had to pay the price for his dark past. If the story ended here, it wouldn’t be a truly potent and frightening ghost story.

The final section of the story adds the opportunity that the story needs to be potent and frightening. The story becomes scarier not only due to the true malevolence behind the ghost’s appearance (the exploitation of man – albeit, perhaps for a greater good), but also due to the uncertainty readers now have in viewing both Jim and his ultimate fate. Are they now supposed to view him sympathetically due to his exploitation? The reader is conflicted, just like ghost-encountering characters. This story also fits the conventions of ghost stories due to its use of the uncanny, non-linear storytelling, a disturbed individual, and a ghost that is hard to pinpoint.