Tricked into betraying his guardian angel, our valiant narrator from The Devil's Hunting Grounds (book one in the trilogy) finds himself in spiritual hot water--with his very own copy of the Beginner's Guide to Hell to peruse and a decidedly peculiar assortment of fellow guests in a very strange hotel.
His frantic efforts to receive a Celestial Visa out of Hell seem doomed to failure... as shown by this conversation with two of the 'Powers' of the place:]
"...[Getting to Heaven from Hell] is, as I said, the task of an artist. And you must never cease for a moment to think of the work upon which you are engaged. Yourself must be your only study, as you strive to create your greatest masterpiece of all--a self patterned within and without to the demands of your own soul's urgent need; a self cleansed of all extraneous interests and irrelevant preoccupations; a self stamped through and through with the single-hearted will to submit and be saved. You have got to make the purest thing you ever made, unsullied in its passionate integrity by the perversions thronging around you--the utterly devoted, utterly given, seventimes purified self; of your own devising, of your own fashioning, of your own cherishing; the product of your toil and the fruit of your torment; the one, true, pure, immortal sacrifice, ever, in His Mercy, acceptable unto Him."
"But this is impossible," I said. "It can't be done."
"It is weakness to shrink," said Coffer.
"I don't mean that it's difficult, when I say impossible," I cried in some consternation. "I mean that it's inherently impossible. The whole recommendation is self-contradictory."
"That may be so," said Jaffer, "but I warned you that it was a way for exceptional men only."
"For lunatics," I shouted. "Self-willed self-conquest is impossible. If it's self-willed, it isn't self-conquest; and if it's self-conquest, it isn't self-willed. The unaided self can't will self-abnegation. You can't rely upon yourself in transcending self-dependence. You can't yourself create a sacrificed self; for the self that would do the creating is the self that has to be sacrificed. Language and logic are outraged in your advice. It's nonsensical."
"But it's the only way," said Coffer.
"For Hell," said Jaffer, "is the domain of the self-reliant."
"And you are in Hell," said Coffer.
"Hell is wholly inhabited by the self-dependent."
"And you are in Hell," repeated Coffer.
"There is no escape from self-service, where the attempt to escape is the greatest self-service of all."
"That is what Hell means," said Coffer.
"There is no refuge in submission, where the search for a refuge is the rebellion of the will."
"That is the nature of Hell," said Coffer.
"It's intolerable," I said, almost screaming the words, driven desperate by their oppressive iterations. "There must be something to turn to."
"There is nothing to turn to," said Jaffer, "For nothing exists here except isolated, unresponsive, independent selves; individuals who will take nothing and who can give nothing. For practical purposes, only the self exists."
"Were it not so," said Coffer, "it would not be Hell."
"There can be no self-disciplines where charities are impossible--"
"And where worship is self-indulgence."
"There can be no self-transcendence, when you are locked in an eternal isolation of self-hood."
"Which is what makes Hell Hell," said Coffer.
"On the Earth, you can flee to the Church in penitence."
"But here all penitence is self-seeking."
"On the Earth you can cry for mercy--"
"But here the cry is rebellion.
"On the Earth you can seek to nourish the soul by hearing the word, by sacrament and by prayer--"
"But here you are cut off from Grace--"
"Shut out from salvation--"
"Numbered among the dead."
"Stop, stop!" I cried, utterly overwhelmed by the pressure of their comminations. "If I can do nothing else, at least I can reject your teaching."
"You cannot even do that," said Jaffer.
"There is no escape from self-service, where the attempt to escape is the greatest self-service of all." Striking statement.