The Abdication of Queen Susan (Part 4)

Can Queen Susan ever be reclaimed for Narnia?

Lewis has said as much in his Collected Letters, and I am honestly not sure why anyone would even think otherwise. Lewis himself did not convert until he was in his 30s and made the statement of not being ashamed of reading fairytales when he was 50. So why should anyone give up on the 21-year-old Susan? 

Unfortunately, she has now be struck with a horrific tragedy, losing her parents and siblings suddenly and all at once and it would be quite wrong to judge someone else on how might react to such a terrible fate. Nonetheless, there is plenty of time. And, hopefully, she can survive the terrible blow against her and mature into a reflective and more profound adult. 

And, despite Lewis' unwillingness to commit to Susan's eventual repentance, I think he's rooting for her and believes she will make it. I've mentioned this before in our discussion of Susan's horn, but let's expand of that a bit.

In The Lion and Witch and the Wardrobe, Peter, Susan, and Lucy, receive presents from Father Christmas which, we are later told, "they valued more than their whole kingdom." Susan received a bow, a quiver full of arrows, and an ivory horn. The Chronicles record two times that the horn was blown (once by Susan, once by Caspian) and at the end of Prince Caspian there are two things to note. First, Caspian offers the horn back to Susan, but Susan tells him to keep it. Second, as Susan leaves Narnia for the last time she is cheered as Queen Susan of the Horn. Finally, in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader we are told that Queen Susan's horn was left with the Regent Trumpkin in case of great need. And that is the last we hear of it. 

What happened to Susan's horn? Why was it not blown by Tirian in the Last Battle? Surely such a treasure should have been carefully guarded by Caspian's heirs. I'm not sure I can answer those questions but let's try another one.  

Why was Susan called Queen Susan of the Horn? There's no reason to think she blew it more than once. Presumably the answer is because she always had the horn at her side. In fact, she was the only one who had her gift with her the day they went hunting the White Stag and ended up back in England. Lucy did not have her cordial, Peter did not have his sword, but Susan had her horn. Susan trusted the horn and with it she always had the ability to call out for help.

But Susan is called Queen Susan of the Horn even as she gives the horn to Caspian. For she, and the Narnians, know that the horn is only an external manifestation of something more fundamental: the ability to call out to God and ask for salvation. Queen Susan no longer needs the horn, for she has now internalized its abilities. 

The 21-year-old Susan is no longer inspired by Narnia. She has lost her spiritual way. She believes she has life figured out. How many of us felt the same in our early twenties, absolutely sure that we have all the answers and a clear path towards a bright future? But her life has now changed drastically, and she will quickly learn what (hopefully) all of us do as we grow older, that we are not as smart as we thought, and that life is not that easy. 

And with that, the horn within Susan will blow and bring her back to Narnia. 

The Abdication of Queen Susan (Part 3)

Quick note: I updated Part 2 on February 11 so you should read the updated version before reading this. 

Building off of our last post, we are trying to understand why Lewis is unhappy with Susan striving to reach, and then freeze at, the age of about 21. Most likely the reason is already found in Lewis' first words about Narnia, the dedication to his goddaughter.

I wrote this story for you, but when I began it, I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result, you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

Here, Lewis makes the point that people at a certain age are (hopefully, temporarily) not interested in fairytales. What the consequences are for not reading fairytales is not stated, but we have some further evidence elsewhere in his writings:

When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty, I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.

OK, so here Lewis hints at the maturation of people. Humans are born as babies and become children. While sometimes children may be difficult to deal with, they are generally blessed with certain very positive characteristics. As discussed here, Lewis includes in that list simplicity, single-mindedness, affection, and teachable. R' Soloveitchik recognized similar characteristics including: simplicity, fiery enthusiasm, ingenuousness, gracefulness, tremors of fear, and devotion to their vivid experiences.

As humans mature, they tend to look down on their previous lack of maturity. However, doing so may include a dismissal of some of these very positive traits in an effort to prove to themselves and others that they are really "grown up." It is only the truly grown up who can reclaim the positive aspects of childhood. This process is almost Hegelian, the thesis of childhood, the antithesis expressed by those wanting to feel and be thought of as grown up, and, finally, the synthesis of the truly mature. 

There are of course, the rare few, like Lucy, who can keep the positive characteristics of children through the maturation process. But the rest of us may spend quite some time acting childish in our fear of being seen as children. There are also humans (in our times perhaps too many humans) who relinquish all aspects of childhood and never recover its positive aspects. Even worse, some do not even see the point in trying to recover those traits. This is (at the end of the Chronicles of Narnia) the current lot of Susan.

One characteristic noted by R' Soloveitchik stands out: a child's vivid experiences and their devotion to them. This is exactly Susan's failure. She, with her siblings, went through the most vivid of experiences when they were young. They were teleported to another world, set on a great quest, were victorious through bravery, kindness, and faith and were rewarded by royal crowns. 

Lucy and her brothers remained devoted to those experiences even as growing older. 

Susan dismissed her childhood as playing games.   

The Abdication of Queen Susan (Part 2)

In our last post we saw that, at the end of the Chronicles, Queen Susan was no longer a friend of Narnia. A priori, this means she stopped believing that her Narnian experience was real, instead coming to the belief that the adventures were simply games played as a child. We noted that in fact the situation was much worse. It is not simply that Susan denies the "historical" occurrence of the children's time in Narnia, but she exclaims, "Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children." Even if the visits to Narnia were not true, Susan could think about them, learn from, be guided by, and be inspired by the "fairytales" of her childhood. But she does not. 

All of us on this blog think of Narnia a great deal. Yet, none of us, I presume, have been to Narnia (though if you have been please let me know). In fact, I would suppose none of us even believe that there is or ever was such a place as Narnia. And, yet WE are inspired by Narnia, while Susan who was actually part of the fairytales is not. 

This is Susan's greatest fault. Not denying the existence of Narnia, but not being inspired by Narnia, not letting herself see the truths of our world through her experiences in Narnia. Not finding Aslan "by another name" in our world. Or perhaps we can say, paraphrasing Lewis' dedication of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," Susan's chief fault is not growing old enough to read fairytales again."

This takes us to the end of the exchange about Susan, at which point the Lady Polly declares, "Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."

What is the silliest time of one's life? Well, based on Polly's words (which we assume Lewis agreed with) it's clearly not childhood, because you have to get there. It must be somewhere around where Susan is in The Last Battle, which is about 21. Why that time? 

Interestingly, the Talmud (Kiddushin 30a) homes in on that same time period. As explained by (the second interpretation) of Rashi, the Talmud explores what is the time for parents to go full throttle on providing a child with ethical and moral teachings to include a system of reward and punishment. There are two opinions offered: from 16 - 22 or from 18 - 24. Rashi explains that younger than this a child is not ready to understand, and older the child may simply ignore, or even rebel against, the parents. Susan is right in the middle. 

I don't think Lewis is thinking along these lines. Nevertheless, I think the Talmud's perspective does weave its way into the story. Namely, I think we do see some failure in the Pevensie parents with respect to Susan. 

At the start of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Susan, though only 14 at the time, is described as, "Grown-ups thought her the pretty one of the family and she was no good at schoolwork (though otherwise very old for her age)..." That doesn't sound like a very good prognosis, and yet the Pevensie parents seem to think that's a good reason to take Susan to America. I don't quite understand that line of thinking. It seems to me she would be better off enrolled in tutoring over the summer.   

Still, I don't think that Lewis is looking at this age range from the Talmud's perspective. Rather, Lewis believes that Susan's age is lacking something fundamental that is found both in children and more mature adults. 

More on that in our next...  

The Abdication of Queen Susan (Part 1)

 "My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

Perhaps one of the saddest parts of the Chronicles is the loss of Queen Susan from the Narnian afterlife. Much has been written (some not very complimentary to Lewis) concerning what caused Susan the Gentle to abandon her youthful beliefs, whether a reader could we have predicted from earlier actions or events that she would not hold out her fidelity to Narnian, and whether she can or will come eventually be redeemed. 

For our initial discussion let's see what can be derived from the text itself.  

The first statement regarding the transformation of Susan arises after King Tirian enters the stable and formally meets the seven "friends of Narnia" (the name comes from Tirian's vision earlier in the story when he sees the seven). After King Peter introduces him to the seven, Tirian realizes that one of the four ancient kings and queens, Susan, is missing. Tirian's question is answered by the above statement of Peter. While the present seven are friends are Narnia, Susan is no longer a friend. 

Lewis could have stopped there. After all, earlier Lewis told us that one of the dwarfs who shot the Talking Horses was allowed into the Narnian nirvana, but Lewis (in the mouth of Eustace) told us that it was not our business to know how the dwarf merited this ultimate reward. Lewis could have similarly kept quiet about Susan, but he does not end the discussion there. Instead, we have the following from King Edmund. 

"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says, `What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"

In other words, Susan does not deny that as children they all spoke about Narnia. She rather believes that they were simply playing games. Now as a grownup she realizes that those games were not real. From Susan's grownup point of view, Narnia is no different than the pretend friends and lively stuffed animals that populate the childhood of so many. Those were fine for children, but what value do they have once someone has (colloquially) matured?  

But let's reflect on this for a moment. We should ask ourselves the following question. Does it matter? What if Narnia was not real, if the whole of the Chronicles that were in the minds of the seven friends never actually took place. Should that matter? Does is matter that Hobbes is just a toy tiger in the eyes of Calvin's parents and teacher? Does is matter that Snuffleupagus could only be seen by Big Bird? 

On the one hand the answer is, of course! Truth matters! It matters that the Exodus happened, it matters that God revealed the Torah on Mount Sinai, so much of our religious life is based on these events how can one suggest that things of this sort don't matter? Well, that makes sense, but we've already seen Lewis express the opposite perspective when Puddleglum insisted he would live like a Narnian even without Narnia. 

And, in some ways, we're all like Puddleglum. If you're reading this, you probably value at least some aspect of Narnia. Maybe the Narnian Chronicles have taught you bravery, faith, and loyalty. Or maybe you were inspired to live your life closer to God. But Narnia is NOT real! There's nothing wrong with that. We can learn valuable lessons of morality and ethics from made up stories. We can think Narnia is important despite the fact that it was just the figment of the imagination of someone who lived decades ago in a country across an ocean (at least for me in the United States). We think Narnia is important even though it's not real. But not Susan... 

To Susan, Narnia should have been real. However, Susan's fault may be not that she stopped believing in the actuality of Narnia, but that she stopped believing the importance of Narnia. 

We will have to follow up on this in our next. 

Susan's Horn

Much ink has been spilled on Susan Pevensie and her betrayal of Narnia. I think there's more that has to be said but that's not the goal for today. Instead, I'd like to think about not Susan herself, but Susan's horn. 

Susan's horn was given to her by Father Christmas in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. However, even Father Christmas seemed unsure of the extent of its powers, "And when you put this horn to your lips; and blow it, then, wherever you are, I think help of some kind will come to you." 

The horn is first blown soon after it was gifted when Susan was being chased by the Wolf. Nothing magical seemed to have happened at that time. Aslan and Peter hear the horn and Peter saves Susan by killing the Wolf. Afterwards, it seems that Susan regularly kept the horn at her side, since she had it during the fateful hunting of the White Stag which brought the Pevensies back to England (though it seems she did not have it in Calormen in The Horse and His Boy). 

At that point the horn was lost for several centuries until it was discovered by Dr. Cornelius. He, in turn, gave the horn to Caspian before the latter's flight from the castle of his usurping Uncle Miraz. It was Caspian who then blew the horn for a second time and, this time, we see its remarkable magical ability. Trumpkin the Dwarf was already many hours journey away from Caspian and, nonetheless, described what he heard, "there came a sound that I'd never heard the like of in my born days. Eh, I won't forget that. The whole air was full of it, loud as thunder but far longer, cool and sweet as music over water, but strong enough to shake the woods. And I said to myself, `If that's not the Horn, call me a rabbit.' " And, of course, the horn dragged the Pevensie children out of England and back into Narnia. 

After Caspian's victory he offers the horn back to Susan, who refuses to accept, but at this point (and not in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) Susan is cheered as Queen Susan of the Horn. 

We hear nothing of the horn for the rest of the Chronicles. It was not used again by Caspian even when trying to find his lost son. It was not used by King Erlian before falling in battle against the giants, and it was not used by King Tirian as Narnia came crashing down.  

However, we do find some other significant horns in The Last Battle. There is Father Time's horn which he blows to end the world, and there is King Frank's horn which gathers the Narnian heroes in the Narnian nirvana. What is the purpose of all of these horns?

Perhaps the purpose is to call others home. Father Time's horn unleashes a mass of shooting stars who eventually come down to Narnia, "All the stars were falling: Aslan had called them home." King Frank's horn brings the Narnian heroes further up and further in. 

What of Susan's horn?

Susan's horn brought Peter to knighthood. Susan's horn brought the Pevensies home to Narnia. And, I believe, Susan's horn will one day bring Susan, and all who are like her, home as well. 

In the U'netaneh Tokef prayer on the Days of Awe we are told of the Heavenly judgement. The great horn (the shofar) will be sounded causing even the angels to tremble. All creatures then come single file before God to be judged, "Like a shepherd pasturing his flock." However, this frightening picture is transformed if we look at the prooftext of Ezekiel. In the 34th chapter Ezekiel tells of the shepherds charged with caring for God's sheep - His people, the nation of Israel. The shepherds were irresponsible, even evil, not caring for the sheep, harming them, causing them to scatter to faraway places. 

God will punish the evil shepherds and then lovingly gather the sheep, "like a shepherd pasturing his flock." He will judge their needs and bring them home to the Land of Israel. Once again, the horn calls out to the people, "The day of judgement has arrived, God will seek you for it is time to come home."   

There are horns in this world even not on the Day of Judgement. They take on different forms: some are pleasant, some are excruciatingly painful. But they serve the same purpose, to call out to those who have strayed, it is time to come home. 

Calormene Poetry: On Love Versus Desire

In the last post, I suggested that Calormene poetic verses, which appear to be maligned by Lewis, both in form (maxims and apophthegms) and content appear to have biblical parallels especially in the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. If so, why does Lewis appear dismissive of it? The answer will depend on the exact verse. In the last post we studied a Calormene verse which correctly proclaimed that wisdom is more important than strength. Presumably Lewis himself would agree with this declaration. However, the context in which the verse was invoked is inappropriate. In that context the verse suggests that business negotiations are a form of competitiveness and war. While this may appear true in some instances, the ideal is to ensure that both parties believe the exchange was fair and walk away happy. Given the disparity in social status between the Tarkaan and Arsheesh, and the technique of bargaining in which both sides attempt to ‘win,’ this is an impossibility. Thus Lewis’ disdain is merited.

Our next Calormene maxim appears later in Shasta’s story. Shasta’s escape from the house of Arsheesh and the clutches of the Tarkaan Anradin is detailed in the chapters of “The Horse and His Boy.” We will not delve into the adventure itself and only provide the background necessary for our next piece of Calormene poetry.

After much adventure, the readers find themselves in the palace of the Tisroc, the Calormene emperor, in the capital city of Tashbaan. The Tisroc (may he live forever?) is in secret council with his eldest son Rabadash, and his Grand Vizier Ahoshta. Rabadash is to present a plan to conquer Archenland from where he can ride into Narnia to kidnap Susan, one of the Pevensie children now grown up, and take her as his wife. Triggered by the escape of Susan from Tashbaan, he first spends time lamenting his fate. In the midst of his rant, Ahoshta pops his head up from the carpet (where he has prostrated himself in honor of the Tisroc) and quotes the poet:

Deep draughts from the fountain of reason are desirable in order to extinguish the fire of youthful love. 

Rabadash does not take well to this observation and rages at Ahoshta, “Dog! Do not dare to quote the poets to me. I have had maxims and verses flung at me all day and I can endure them no more."

We pause here to note a certain irony, Ahoshta references a maxim about love. This apparently contradicts Ahoshta’s later assertion as to the inferiority of Narnian poetry which is all about “love and war” as opposed to Calormene poetry which is “full of choice apophthegms and useful maxims.” The difference, of course, is that presumably Narnian poetry speaks in praise of love, as opposed to the Calormene maxim which coldly advocates the extinguishing love.

More importantly, however, is the mischaracterization of Rabadash’s feelings for Susan as love. Rabadash never claims to love Susan. He wants her, he must have her, and he will die if he does not get her, but he does not say that he loves her! Later in the conversation, when making a contingency plan should Rabadash be captured by the Narnians, Ahoshta advises that the Tisroc say that Rabadash acted out of love for Susan. In reality, however, he does not love Susan. In another context (“The Four Loves”) Lewis might suggest that Rabadash loves himself and the pleasure he would achieve from Susan’s beauty. Like the poetry quoted by Arsheesh in the last post, Ahoshta's maxim is inappropriate for the situation at hand.

However, looking more closely, we see that Ahoshta’s maxim is not only inapplicable, but also incorrect. The maxim advocates for extinguishing the fire's of love. Why would anyone suggest that?! Engagement in "true" love, love that is imbued with God-like charity, imitates God Himself and is a strong positive force in our world. It is not the fires of love that should be extinguished, but the fires of lust! The Calormene substitution of love for lust demonstrates their inability to understand or experience true love, and therefore, the centrality of greed and arrogance in their culture. 

With that in mind, we can identify a proper biblical parallel to our Calormene maxim. In the seventh chapter of Proverbs, King Solomon advises, “Say to wisdom, you are my sister, and call understanding a kinswoman, to guard you from a strange woman, from a foreigner who is smooth-talking.” The verses go on as if the author sees the woman approaching and seducing a man in the marketplace. Most of the commentators explain these verses on their most straightforward level, wisdom and understanding (deep draughts from the fountain of reason) are necessary to combat the lust enflamed by the enticement of the strange woman. Unlike the Calormene poetry, the biblical verse gets it right.

But He's Good: Aslan

'Course He Isn't Safe, But He's Good

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

What are the dominant characteristics that we attribute to God?

Certainly there are many possibilities. The bible records that God Himself enumerated 13 Attributes of Mercy which are, in part or as a whole, invoked by later prophets. These include that He is merciful, gracious, slow to anger and so on. We may turn to the amidah the center of the Jewish prayer service in which we praise God as, “great, mighty, and awesome.” But, perhaps an even more dominant trait, one that appears throughout the bible, is that God is good.

The Psalmist calls out to the crowd that has gathered to praise God with the opening, “Praise the Lord, for He is good, for his kindness is everlasting.” Indeed, at pivotal moments of Jewish history, great leaders have utilized this exhortation. King David calls upon his people to praise God when he brings the Ark of the Covenant to the capital city of Jerusalem using this same verse. When his son, King Solomon, brings the Ark into his newly built Temple, it is with these very words that God’s presence becomes apparent. Many years later Jeremiah, at the moment when the Babylonians are besieging Jerusalem, about to fulfill the prophecies of doom which he himself delivered, comforts Israel:

So says the Lord, there will again be heard in this place… in the cities of Judea and the courtyards of Jerusalem that are desolate without men, without inhabitants, and without animals: the voice of happiness, the voice of rejoicing, the voice of the groom, the voice of the bride, the voice of those who say, “Praise God the Lord of Lord of Hosts, for the Lord is good, for His kindness is everlasting!” (Jeremiah 33:10-11)

Finally, upon laying the foundation for the second Temple, the priests and Levites sang in praise of God, for He is good for His kindness is everlasting.

Indeed, God’s goodness is so integral that it was fully imbued in our world. In the first chapter of Genesis, God sees each item he has created and declares it good, and when creation is complete he declares it very good.

What is goodness? A child may think that eating candy instead of vegetables is good because the child appreciates the sweet taste of the candy. Adults, however, are charged with restraining a child from acting this way. Adults understand that such goodness is fleeting and, ultimately, will not provide true goodness. Taking this argument to its logical conclusion we must realize that only God has a fully expansive and utterly comprehensive knowledge and vision. Thus, it is only He who can determine what is truly good. While mere humans may regard a particular event as good, bad or dangerous, only God can properly characterize the goodness of any occurence.

This lesson of determining ultimate goodness is one of the first taught to the Pevensie children during their adventures in Narnia. As the Beavers prepare them to meet the mysterious Aslan we find the following back-and-forth.

[Mr. Beaver] “I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion - the Lion, the great Lion."
"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he - quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."
"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."
"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

Aslan is not safe because safety implies that nothing will occur that you perceive as bad or dangerous. But he’s good and only under his guidance can the ultimate good be achieved. This contrast between safe and good has been the kernel of many a Christian sermon. I particularly like this one from Pastor Robert Marsh, especially as he reaches out to comfort those who may not feel particularly safe during “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” However, centuries ago the Talmudic Sages told stories and taught lessons emphasizing this very theme. We will explore some of these in our next post.