Never have I read anything more self-absorbed and obsessive than Sheldon Vanauken’s A Severe Mercy, every word (apart from those by C.S. Lewis, my sole reason for reading the book) shrouded in a miasma of self. Sheldon is the center of his universe, one he sets out to control, thereby creating his own perfect world, especially his idyllic marriage ― a union sans children (by design) that provides him a perpetual spring of “inloveness” à la his imaginary “Shining Barrier.”At the outset of the book he is so caught up in himself (and in making an impression) that he gives readers no sense of time and place. For example, in the prologue, “Glenmerle Revisited,” we have no idea where Glenmerle (his family home) is located or when he made the visit. Sheldon is too busy recounting his privileged life of leisure growing up with servants at his beck and call, complete with descriptions of carved Chippendale and Duncan Phyfe furnishings (one piece from England) and “glowing” oriental rugs. Indeed, England is prominent for Vanauken; though he is not English, he uses British terms and spellings throughout the book, all clearly for affect. We are meant to be impressed.When Christianity, namely, God, pierces his protective barrier and his wife, Davy, becomes a Christian while they are at Oxford, poor dear Sheldon must come to terms with an “other” in their life. Still a non-Christian, he seeks out the most renowned Christian academic at Oxford (nothing less will do), the beloved C.S. Lewis. Wonderful man that he is, Lewis responds, and communication begins. Lewis’s letters (which Sheldon exploits fully) are the best part of the book. Predictably, though Sheldon converts (and does so quite suddenly), he is not satisfied or content. So it is no surprise that once back home in the U.S. and past the honeymoon of a new faith, Vanauken becomes “jealous of God” in his relationship with Davy. This leads to an all-night tête-à-tête holding hands with a young female friend of Davy’s, as the exhausted Davy sleeps alone in her bed. Even here, Sheldon is caught up in the narrative, seemingly more enthralled that this young woman (Jane) loves him than that he might also be in love with her.The Shining Barrier is again breached when Sheldon and Davy learn that Davy has a terminal disease, and within months she is gone — Lewis later describing this in a letter as “a severe mercy” (hence the title of this book). The grieving Vanauken only becomes more obsessive (if that is possible) and more intense, as he sets about to recreate little scenes he and Davy had once shared, complete with the music they played, the poetry they read, and the fragrance she wore. Lewis’s letters to him during this period are instructive and for the reader break the monotony of Sheldon’s indulgence in self-pity,But one bereavement for Sheldon is not enough; so he goes to Oxford for a second one, where he relives moments with Davy and senses her presence. It is not until he returns to Virginia that he experiences the Second Death: when Davy’s presence (and his state of grief) seem to vanish in the wind. What never goes away for Vanauken are his obsessions and self-absorption. What we know (post this account) is that many years after the death of Davy, years during which Vanauken first falls away from “the obedience” (to God), he returns and eventually converts to Catholicism. Spare me all of those details and another word written by Vanauken. Able to take only so much from this affected and selfish man, one asks for mercy.