Calormene Poetry: Questions

Those who ask questions that do not concern them are steering the ship of folly towards the rock of indigence.

In a number of previous posts we have attempted to show that while, superficially, the apophthegms and maxims of Calormene poetry seem reasonable, in fact they are always inaccurate, or incomplete is some way. Either they are brought up slightly out of context, emphasize a point too much or too little, or simply miss the mark in a sometimes subtle way. The above verse is very much in line with our previous studies.

No doubt everyone knows or remembers the child (or adult?) who has a million questions, none of which concern the subject at hand. Facing such a person we would all like to hammer home Arsheesh’s lesson to Shasta, keep your mind on your work and do not pester me or anyone else about things that are irrelevant! However, we soon learn that the reason Arsheesh is not interested in answering Shasta’s question of, “What is there beyond that hill?” is not necessarily because it is irrelevant, but because he does not know. This demonstrates that Arsheesh’s invocation of the poetic verse is inappropriate. How does Arsheesh know whether or not Shasta’s question is irrelevant? Perhaps there is something of importance beyond the hill. Perhaps there is another village there that would buy his fish for a higher price or an inlet from the sea from which it is easier to catch fish. Certainly, those would be facts that should concern both of them!

Arsheesh’s utilization of the poetic verse now takes on different light. Arsheesh uses the verse not only to force Shasta to keep him mind on his work, but also to stave off questions that might force Arsheesh himself to rethink his chosen path in life. Questions open vistas to new possibilities and create doubts concerning the current situation. Arsheesh “had a very practical mind,” one that was not interested in thinking in new ways.

While the Talmud does report certain questions that are not to be asked, the silencing of questions is an anathema to Judaism. Our Sages taught:

“One who is shy will not learn” (Ethics of Our Fathers 2:5)

With this statement, the Sages highlighted not only the acceptance of questions, but their primacy. Only one not afraid to ask, will be able to learn. A true religion, honest philosophy, or constructive government is not afraid of questions. Only one who has something to hide, or is ashamed, or simply does not know is unwilling to address the curiosity of a student.

The Torah itself places questions in the mouths of future generations as they ask their parents about their People’s history. The Passover meal, the seder, centers around these questions. The Talmud goes a step further and institutes various rituals at the Passover seder designed to specifically to engender even more questions. The goal of Judaism then is not to squash curiosity but to peak curiosity, not to silence questions but to encourage them.

Why are questions so important? Why not simply insist to our children this is how it is, and that is final!? One possible reason is practical. Barring questions is simply not a good way to keep adherents. While some people may be satisfied with accepting as gospel whatever they are told, others are not. The danger inherent in questioning religion and authority is outweighed by the risk of losing followers who cannot then give voice to their doubts and queries.

However, I believe the real importance of freedom to question is a positive one. The Talmud insists that just as no two people have the same physical appearance, so too no two people possess the same intellect. Each individual has their own view on a myriad of concepts and their own ideas about a variety of issues. This is true even, and perhaps especially true, when it comes to forming a relationship with God and shaping our lives around His word. Each person must form a unique relationship with God and design their life in fulfillment of His word. In fact, to truly comprehend the most we can about God, for the maximum number of different perspectives, we must perceive how each individual uniquely fulfills these tasks. Individuality, however, comes about only when questions are encouraged and original thought is valued. The silencing of questions represses individuality and leads to uniformity.

Shasta asks questions. His adopted father attempts to stifle these questions for he is uninterested in individuality but only that the necessary work be completed. Even when on the verge of selling Shasta he cares only that he is paid enough to hire another boy. The other boy will do his work and thus be just as good as the baby Arsheesh saved from death and raised to a young man. Despite his father, Shasta continues to ask questions. And these eventually bring him to know the true God.

Calormene Poetry: On Prosperity

Application to business is the root of prosperity, but those who ask questions that do not concern them are steering the ship of folly towards the rock of indigence

The first piece of Calormene poetry introduced to readers of The Chronicles of Narnia comes at the beginning of The Horse and His Boy. Shasta (the protagonist of this story) often wonders what lies to the north of his home deep in Calormen. Occasionally he formulates his wonder into a question for his step-father Arsheesh. However, Arsheesh "had a very practical mind" and, as what lay to the north in no way affected him, he neither knew, nor cared. If he was in a good mood Arsheesh would discourage Shasta’s curiosity and questions by quoting the above, or some similar, verse of poetry.

We should note that Arsheesh's practical mind, does not appear to be very much appreciated by Lewis. We will have to return to this in a future post.

As we have seen from our previous explorations of Calormene poetry, the poet seems reasonable and practical. If one were to spend all of their time wondering about what was unimportant and irrational rather than concentrating on their work, they would indeed fail. In fact, the bible says something similar:

From all toil there is some gain, but idle chatter is pure loss. (Proverbs 14:23)

Similarly,

He who tills his land shall have food in plenty, but he who pursues vanities is devoid of sense. (Proverbs 12:11) 

From these verses, and others, we see the importance of work, not wasting time on trivialities, and paying attention to what one is doing. The poet seems to have gotten at least the first part of the verse correct: without application to business there will not be prosperity.

However, the poet, or Arsheesh, only tells half of the story. Hard work and diligence are necessary for prosperity, but they are not sufficient for prosperity.

Other verses in Proverbs describe the requisite component:

Fear of God is a fountain of life, enabling one to avoid deadly snares. (Proverbs 14:27)

And,

Entrust your affairs to God, and your plans will succeed. (Proverbs 16:3)

Arsheesh does well to encourage Shasta to pay attention to his work, and not to chase fantasies. However, this alone is insufficient to guarantee prosperity. One cannot succeed without God. Trust and reliance on God are necessary. The importance of God is not conveyed to Shasta at all. It is up to Shasta to learn it on his own.

In the next part of the verse, Arsheesh encourages Shasta not to ask questions. In the godless environment of Asheesh's hut questions, imagination, and dreams are at best irrelevant and at worst dangerous. We will explore in a future post.

Calormene Poetry: On Carbuncles and Olive Trees

In our last post on Calormene poetry we analyzed the verse that compares affection towards one's children to soup. Continuing our study, we now analyze the second part of the poet’s verse which bespeaks the value of children, “Offspring are more precious than carbuncles (assumed to be the red precious stone).” Once again this maxim seems reasonable, what can be more valuable than our children? Even precious stones are less valuable than our own offspring! Nevertheless, such an equation is not found in the bible. The bible does utilize precious stones, gold and silver as comparisons for valuable commodities, including wisdom, a good reputation, God’s commandments, and the Torah itself, but not to children.

Before answering why, and analyzing what the bible does compare children to, let us see how this maxim of the Calormene poet is carried out in practice. How do Calormenes treat their children? The Horse and His Boy provides us with a number of examples. Most strikingly we have Aravis, the only daughter of Kidrash Tarkaan, and great-great granddaughter of Ilsombreh Tisroc. Aravis was betrothed by her father to the Grand Vizier of Carolmen, Ahoshta Tarkaan. Ahoshta is far older than Aravis, is ugly (at least according to Aravis), and appears to already be married (or at least has children from another woman). While, perhaps, some Calormene girls would accept this marriage, Aravis is not interested and decides to escape to Narnia. Why did Kidrash Tarkaan agree to marry Aravis to a man she clearly does not desire and even despises? Obviously to align himself with Ahoshta who holds a powerful position and is very wealthy. Is Aravis more precious than carbuncles in the eyes of her father? Likely yes, but while carbuncles and daughters are valuable, they both have a price. In the mind of Kidrash Tarkaan alignment with Ahoshta is a price worth paying for a daughter.

Second, we have Rabadash, the crown prince to Calormen. As his father’s heir we presume that he is certainly valuable in his father’s eyes. Yet, when presented with a plan that will expand the Tisroc's kingdom to Archenland and perhaps Narnia, but at the risk of his son’s life, the Tisroc accepts. After all, he notes, he has eighteen other sons. Apparently the Tisroc’s son also has a price, the possibility of expanding the power of the Tisroc.

Finally, we have Shasta himself. While not a biological son to Arsheesh, only a truly cold-hearted man could not love a child he raised from the time it was a baby. Yet, neither the Tarkaan Anradin nor Arsheesh himself seem too concerned about pricing Shasta. Arsheesh explains that he saved Shasta first because, “the gods never fail to reward those who befriend the destitute.” Only after that does he note that he is a compassionate man. Anradin responds to this assertion by declaring that the gods have rewarded him and that Arsheesh has, “had ten times the worth of his daily bread out of him in labour.” Thus, he can now part with the boy. The conversation continues but the message is clear, no one, not even Shasta himself, feels too badly about Arsheesh pricing his adopted son and negotiating over him as if he was a carbuncle.

To what does the bible compare children? The psalmist (Psalms 127:4) regards children as arrows in the hands of a warrior, and (Psalms 128:3) as olive saplings around one’s table. The comparison to arrows accentuates that children will assist a parent in battle against their enemies. In this view, children are not simply precious items, but a parent’s most loyal partner and reliable defender. Whether the battle is physical or spiritual, children represent, in the most concrete way, an assurance that the truths and ideals being fought for will continue to live on.

The comparison of children to an olive sapling emphasizes that children grow, mature, and bear fruit like a young tree. This continued evolution of children is unlike carbuncles and other precious stones which are static and only increase in value when acted on by outside forces (market forces or a jeweler). Carbuncles thus have a set worth and can be sold for a given value, though it may be high. Children have infinite worth because they bring joy, happiness, and eventually grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

The Carlomene poet who authored the verse declaring offspring more precious than carbuncles sounds reasonable. However, once again the poet gets it wrong. First, the comparison of children to precious stones is misguided. Calormene behavior in The Horse and His Boy demonstrate that children may have value more than carbuncles, but are still sold for the right price. Second, the poet invokes an incorrect comparison. Wisdom and a good name are items that can be acquired (and lost) by properly (or improperly) utilizing money. Children have value of a different sort. They are at the same time self-perpetuating sources of joy and happiness and also a continuation and defender of one’s values and ideals.

Calormene Poetry: On Soup

We have already had occasion to examine part of the conversation between Arsheesh and the Tarkaan Anradin. Let us now look at the initial salvo in that debate. Arsheesh initially refuses to sell Shasta to the Tarkaan due to the (false) fact that Shasta is his son. As support as to why this should stand in the way of the sale, Arsheesh quotes the poets who observes that, “Natural affection is stronger than soup, and offspring more precious than carbuncles.” The verse speaks of two concepts, the affection a parent has for a child and the value of a child to a parent. This affection is observed to be very strong, even stronger than soup. A child is also very valuable and thus not generally available for sale.

Why does Lewis compare the affection of a child to soup? True there are some soups that may be termed strong, but it is doubtful that soup is one’s first thought when describing strength!

One possibility, in line with the identification of the Carlomenes with the Ottoman Turks, is that it is apparently customary in Turkey to have soup at the iftar meal, the evening meal that breaks the daily Ramadan fast. Certainly, after a long fast, one would look with affection at such soup. The point of the verse is that affection for children is stronger than even the affection one may have for food when ravenously hungry.

However, perhaps Lewis had something else in mind. The term "souperism" was coined during the Irish Great Famine and referred to a missionizing attempt in which Protestant schools were established and fed starving children on conditioned that they be instructed in the Protestant religion. As can be imagined, this was anathema to Catholic families who saw this as having to abandon faith for food. In this context, soup is symbolic of an enticement used to weaken one’s religious sensibilities.

Indeed, in the Chronicles are Narnia soup is introduced to play the role of the enticer. Soup is found three times in The Silver Chair, once at a meal is Cair Paravel, once when describing what one might think of upon seeing Harfang, and once at a meal in Harfang. In all three cases, the soup is meant to keep Jill and Eustace where they are, and stop them from completing their mission.

Soup is also used in one of Trumpkin’s expletives in Prince Caspian. Specifically, when Master Cornelius suggests escaping to Aslan’s How, Trumpkin rejects the reliance on ‘fairy tales’ exclaiming, “Soup and celery! I wish our leaders would think less about these old wives' tales and more about victuals and arms." (Soup is also mentioned in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader as part of the meal Caspian and his party ate with the Dufflepuds when they were still invisible. In that context, however, it seems to just be a way of emphasizing how messy the meal was).

With this we now turn back to the Carlomene poet who states that affection of children is even stronger than that of soup. Now, perhaps, the affection is too strong! The poet is suggesting that love for children should be stronger than that of one’s faith, while Abraham, in his willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac, demonstrates just the opposite. Once again, the Carlomene poet sounds reasonable, but, in fact, misunderstands true virtue.