Surprised by Oxford: A Memoir, by Carolyn Weber

Surprised by Oxford took me—well, by surprise. An artful memoir or biography is a rare find; seldom have I completed one with that regretful pleasure one feels upon concluding a captivating novel. Weber, perhaps not astonishingly for a professor of literature, employs all the novelist’s devices. But Surprised by Oxford goes beyond engaging narrative, elegant story arc, deliberate pacing, romantic suspense, and real-world complications. It exhales that same whiff of ethereal eternality imparted most often (for me) by the masters of literary fantasy.

Weber’s liberal scattering of literary excerpts and allusions certainly enhances this effect. I listened to the audiobook (with narrator Nancy Peterson rendering accents from throughout the British Commonwealth) but ended up ordering a print copy in order to track down the sources of chapter epigraphs and other quotes. Only when the book arrived did I realize it is more than 430 pages long. I had listened for more than twelve hours without receiving my fill of Weber’s story telling.

But in addition to this rich communion with the ghosts of literary greats (including Oxford don C.S. Lewis, whose Surprised by Joy is invoked by Weber’s title), the author’s journey between agnosticism and surrender to divine love is by its very nature sublime. While both the book itself and the author’s scholarly attainments bear witness to her intellectual prowess, her quest is far from purely cerebral.

The love story that weaves in and out of the narrative not only heightens dramatic tension but invokes the eternal romance, the divine Lover who pursues us all, heroically, sacrificially, relentlessly. To genuinely consider the possibility of such a subsuming reality gives one pause. If true, it would, in the words of one of Weber’s fellow scholars, “take me under; it would undo everything I have done, everything I have created for myself.” (194)

As successive waves of understanding broke over Weber’s younger self, my own desire was rekindled “to know God and be known by Him—a relationship so intimate that there was no space between Him and my soul.” (268) To those of us jaded by glib repetition or scientific materialism, the idea of communion with God can sound laughably mystical or shabbily trite. But Weber’s memoir delivers a vicarious fresh encounter with divine love via a sharp young scholar satisfied with neither romantic love nor academic success.

That young Weber’s epiphanies occur amidst centuries-old, ivy-encrusted Oxford scholarship is both fitting and enticing. Witty grad school banter is juxtaposed with wise encomiums from learned men and women of faith who aid Weber’s incremental progress toward belief. So much transpires and so far does Weber come that it took me aback to realize that, like a single volume of Harry Potter, the memoir traces just one year of Weber’s doctoral studies. Of course, family and history and other back story enrich and augment the timeline.

My enjoyment of this title prompted me to procure Weber’s Sex and the City of God, which takes up the romantic narrative of Surprised by Oxford, as well as Holy Is the Day, which rejoins her as a mother and professor. As of this writing I have not begun the former, but an intended dip into the latter resulted in burning through a spare hour or so of a Sunday morning. Weber has also published Home Going: Poetry for a Season (Ano Zeteo Press, 2015).

Surprised by Oxford was adapted for the screen in 2023. As usual, the book is better, but for its genre, it’s not bad. In her three-star review on rogerebert.com, Nell Minow highlighted a point of appeal for both book and movie: “It’s a real-life Hogwarts for grown-ups. Every detail of architecture, every lecture, every white tie dinner in the grand hall, every outraged reminder that no pens may be used in the library … all point to the importance of intellectual rigor and its satisfactions.”

But ultimately, Carolyn finds, it is not Oxford that satisfies but the realization that “having my identity in an eternal Father gave me the freedom to explore better how to love best.” (439)