In his book, An Experiment in Criticism (1961), C. S. Lewis suggests that instead of judging a book by how it was written, we should judge it on the kind of reading it inspires. If readers are deepened, continually drawn back to the work, only to find they love it more and more, then it is a good book. If not, then it is merely a book fit for entertainment, not a true piece of art. On Lewis’ view, beauty is transcendent, but art is personal. But what is Lewis’ view on the role that art fills in our lives? Is art something which helps develop us, or merely provide a kind of escape?