Bree and the Ways of the Dumb Beasts

In our last post we noted that there is one Talking Beast, the horse Bree from The Horse and His Boy, who is highly attentive to not acting in the ways of the Dumb Beasts. His angst is mainly centered on his habit of rolling, an extremely pleasant activity for Bree, but one he fears may be a slovenly outgrowth of having been assimilated into the life of the Dumb Beasts of Calormen. Shasta and Aravis (and presumably Lewis) are amused by what they perceive as Bree’s vanity and don’t seem to think there’s much wrong with rolling. This despite Aslan’s command at the creation of Narnia that Talking Beasts should not return to the ways of the Dumb Beasts.

However, there is another way in which Bree acts like a Dumb Beast which perhaps does violate Aslan’s command. When the Lion (though at that point in the story they do not realize it is Aslan) is chasing Aravis and Hwin, Shasta courageously turns back to help, while Bree does not. It is Bree himself who realizes his wrongful action and pronounces his own punishment, to return to slavery as a Dumb Beast:

Slavery is all I'm fit for. How can I ever show my face among the free Horses of Narnia? - I who left a mare and a girl and a boy to be eaten by lions while I galloped all I could to save my own wretched skin!

And, upon Aslan’s word, that is in fact, the appropriate punishment for returning to the ways of the Dumb Beasts.

Nevertheless, Bree is brought back from the edge by the Hermit who provides them safety. The Hermit says that Bree has lost nothing but his self-conceit. While Bree was a great horse compared to the dumb Calormen horses, he is not necessarily destined to be particularly great in Narnia. And that’s OK as long as he remains humble.

The hermit is certainly correct. Bree has never once mentioned his fear of violating Aslan’s command, but appears much more worried about his image and reputation. A situation that forces Bree to confront that he is not as great as he thinks is quite positive for his character development. Still, though Bree may not be aware of Aslan’s command we are (of course, if we read the books in the proper publication order we don’t yet know of Aslan’s command when we read The Horse and His Boy the first time, but I assume everyone has already read the complete series). Does Bree deserve the grace offered by the Hermit?

It appears to me that what the Hermit is saying is as follows: the courage it takes to turn around and face imminent danger rather than run from it is a valiant action that will not come naturally even to a Talking Horse or other sentient being. It is a level to strive for, and as long as one recognizes the need to strive for that level, they have not returned to the ways of the Dumb Beasts. Bree’s action was indeed what a Dumb Horse would have done. However, comprehending the necessity for continual improvement is already beyond what is possible for Dumb Beasts.

If this analysis is correct, we have some possible clarity as to what it means to return to the ways of the Dumb Beasts. It’s not rolling, perhaps it’s not even shying away from some valiant action. Perhaps it’s not so much an action as an approach or a trajectory. Is that all? Possibly, but are there any actions that are just beyond the pale?

Still, we’ve got a few more examples to figure it out.

Aslan's Commands (Part 2)

In our last post we noted the lack of practical clarity attached to two of the three commands Aslan gives in his inaugural speech to the Narnians. While cherishing the Dumb Beasts and treating them kindly are surely fine moral imperatives, we were not able to identify practical ramifications of those laws in the Chronicles of Narnia.

The third command of Aslan, however, provides us with a bit more evidence as to its practical ramifications especially as it comes with a punishment, “Do not go back to their [the Dumb Beast’s] ways lest you cease to be Talking Beasts.” What is included in the ways of the Dumb Beasts? Well, we’re never really told, but if a Talking Beast suffers the prescribed punishment, we can perhaps assume that said Beast violated Aslan’s command.

However, before we look at which Talking Beasts did cease to be Talking Beasts, there is one Talking Beast who is explicitly highly concerned with returning to the ways of the Dumb Beasts.

That character is Bree, and Lewis doesn’t seem to very much value his concern.

The Horse and His Boy tells the story of Bree and Shasta and their great escape from Calormen to Narnia. Bree is a Talking Horse who was kidnapped from Narnia as a young foal and has spent years posing as a Dumb War Horse of a great Tarkaan (Calormen Lord). Shasta is a young boy who knows nothing of Narnia and is simply trying to escape from being sold as a slave by his adopted father.

During their long journey Bree’s method of relaxation is to roll on the ground. Shasta finds this habit quite and amusing and laughs at how funny Bree looks on his back, Bree immediately becomes self-conscious:

“You don't think, do you," said Bree, "that it might be a thing talking horses never do - a silly, clownish trick I've learned from the dumb ones? It would be dreadful to find, when I get back to Narnia, that I've picked up a lot of low, bad habits…”

Shasta, of course, doesn’t think that Bree should bother with such thoughts, and their soon to be found compatriots, Hwin, another Talking Horse, and Aravis, a young Tarkheena, both think Bree is being vain. Nonetheless, Bree becomes more and more anxious the closer they get to Narnia.

Is Bree really just being vain? The response of the other characters suggests that Lewis wants us to think so. Yet maybe Bree is onto something? Aslan explicitly commanded that Talking Beasts should not return to the ways of the Dumb Beasts and who’s to say that, for horses, rolling is not one of those forbidden ways? Or, if not an explicitly forbidden return to the ways of the Dumb Beasts, perhaps its a part of a downward slope that will eventually lead him to returning to their ways?

No doubt Lewis would turn to principle over practice. Who cares about horses rolling? These surface level similarities in action are irrelevant. We would not prohibit eating because Dumb Beasts eat! And, likely, such an argument is, in this case, correct. Especially as Bree’s stated concern is more picking up bad habits that other Talking Horses would find offensive, rather than worrying about the command of Aslan and becoming a Dumb Beast. So, it seems reasonable that allowing Talking Horses to roll is unlikely to transform them into evil or mindless creatures. But where is the line drawn, or is there a line at all?

What determines whether a given action is following the ways of the Dumb Beasts?

Aslan's Commands (Part 1)

Trigger warning: in this post I likely disagree with Lewis. 

In our last post we noted that Aslan’s inaugural address to his creations included three commands all related to their origins as Dumb Beasts. Narnians are to (1) treat the Dumb Beasts gently, (2) cherish the Dumb Beasts, and (3) not go back to the ways of the Dumb Beasts. (At least) the last of these commands comes with a warning/punishment, “lest you cease to be Talking Beasts.” Let’s take some time to consider these commands starting with the first two.  

First, the laws themselves: what does it mean to treat the Dumb Beasts gently? What does it mean to cherish them? 

Actually, there doesn’t seem to be much of a direct answer anywhere in the Chronicles of Narnia. So, let’s throw out some possibilities of specific actions that might be thought of as violating “gentle” and “cherish” and see if they fit. 

What about eating Dumb Beasts? That actually seems pretty reasonable given the physical similarities between Talking and Dumb Beasts. However, it’s simply not the case. There is no indication that Narnians are vegetarians (the only beings in the Chronicles of Narnia who are definitely vegetarians are Eustace’s parents and we know what Lewis thinks of them). Puddleglum, for example, realizes the tragedy of eating a talking stag, but everyone eats meaty sausages at the end of The Silver Chair. In Prince Caspian, Trumpkin shoots a Dumb Bear for food, and numerous characters throughout the Chronicles have bacon. So, eating meat (and even killing to eat meat) doesn’t seem to be a violation of Aslan’s commands. 

What about hunting Dumb Beasts for sport? That certainly seems relevant as even in our world there are non-vegetarians who would come out against the sport of hunting. Actually, it’s Nikabrik who levels the charge of hunting for sport against Prince Caspian and Trufflehunter the Badger who comes to Caspian’s defense. By way of stating his case, Trufflehunter notes the great divide between Talking Beasts like himself and the Dumb Beasts. 

Maybe wearing furs would violate these commands? I don’t think that’s it - everyone seems to wear fur in Narnia, even Father Christmas. 

Perhaps these commands mean not to work the Dumb Beasts or ride them? Well, that can’t be it either: Cor has a pony, Susan has a beautiful horse, Trumpkin has his donkey-chair.

I have to admit, I’m pretty much out of possibilities. In our world (besides the above), we might debate things like using animals for scientific experiments. That actually does have a Narnian parallel in Uncle Andrew’s using guinea pigs to test his rings. Digory points out the unfairness of this, but the exchange does not appear to carry over to Narnia.  

The one place I could recall where we see a hint of these commands coming up is in The Last Battle when Puzzle retrieves the lion skin. Puzzle wants to bury the lion skin rather than wear it as a coat saying, “even if the skin only belonged to a dumb, wild lion, oughtn't we to give it a decent burial? I mean, aren't all lions rather - well, rather solemn? Because of you know Who.” Still, that’s only one place. 

Of course, one may object that the rules are not important. In fact, rules or specified actions would force Narnian religion into dry, ritual, legalism. Aslan’s word provides a moral imperative (perhaps Lewis would say a path towards love), and nothing more is necessary. That seems like a pretty empty argument to me. What moral principle requires nothing for its fulfillment?

It goes without saying that such lack of detail would never stand in traditional Judaism. Myriads of aspects of biblical law, rabbinic decrees and enactments, and even custom have been, and continue to be, subjected to rigorous analysis as legal theory, statutory law, case law, and even mysticism. 

Perhaps such analysis is not necessary in Narnia? 

Well, we still have one more command to analyze…