So, I've always kind of like C. S. Lewis as a person, probably moreso than I like his fiction, but daaaaamn .... Here's how he describes Mother Earth in an early poem (he later backed off from this position):
Earth the unchaste, the fruitful, the great grand maternal,
Sprawling creature, lolling at random and supine,
The broad-faced, sluttish helot, the slave wife
Grubby and warm, who opens unashamed
Her thousand wombs unguarded to the lickerous sun.
Seriously, dude had some issues.

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