Jokes and Justice (Part 2)

 Laugh and fear not, creatures. Now that you are no longer dumb and witless, you need not always be grave. For jokes as well as justice come in with speech.

(The Magician's Nephew)

In our last post we questioned why Aslan seemed to approve the laughter of the Talking Beasts at the Jackdaw. Though all the Talking Beasts assure Aslan that they would not return to the ways of the Dumb Beasts, it was only the Jackdaw who loudly proclaimed, "No fear!" much to the mirth of the others. The Jackdaw was embarrassed (though he later happily realizes that he will forever be remembered as the First Joke), so why is the laughter sanctioned? 

"The devil...the prowde spirite...cannot endure to be mocked."  (Thomas More). Lewis quotes this insightful line as a type of prelude to The Screwtape Letters thus casting this work as a fulfillment of More's words. For it is in Hell that there is strict concern for one's dignity and austerity (Screwtape Letters, Chapter 11), and it is Hell's inhabitants that cannot laugh at themselves (Screwtape Letters Chapter 22).

However, one should not think that it is the experiences of Hell that turns its inhabitants this way. No, those who dwell as one of the damned do so because their dignity and pride brought them there. Their worship was of themselves, and their rituals were for self-glorification. Who should be worshipped? To whom should glory appropriate? The One God! The Creator of All and the True Judge! But for those who replace God with themselves, the ultimate blasphemy is being mocked. 

Belief in God requires humility. Recognizing the presence of the All-Powerful, who has provided you with everything and upon whom you are completely reliant for success. How can one take themselves seriously in the face of God? Is not our whole existence a joke? Is our creation not absurd? 

The Jackdaw will be remembered as the First Joke, but he was not. The first joke was that God saw fit to create creatures of flesh and blood that He was to call His children. How can we not laugh in the face of such absurdity? 

The command to love our neighbors as ourselves requires that we care for the physical and emotional well-being of friends, neighbors, and even strangers. Yet, even this must be balanced by the truth, that humans are awkward creatures who (hopefully) try to do the right thing but often fail spectacularly and hilariously. God knows how much or how little we really try. But if we do try and still fail a little laughter (and even mocking) is perhaps just what we need to help us realize that taking God seriously is more important than taking ourselves seriously. 

Hence the need to laugh at the Jackdaw. He tried to do the right thing, tried to be in sync with the other creatures in a unifying response to Aslan. But he failed, hysterically. Well, if everyone took the Jackdaw's indiscretion seriously, there would be furtive glances between them, malicious whispers, the a real danger that the Jackdaw would feel ashamed, that he would feel apart from the others, different, separated from Alsan. Perhaps there is no reason to feel that way, but isn't that how we feel when we do something off, something singularly foolish? 

But there's a cure, laughter. The laughter shows that everyone understands it was just a mistake, something that we all do at one time or another and you should just shrug it off. 

And so Aslan not only urged the Talking Beasts to laugh, but took the joke a step further modelling for his creations how one should truly feel about their self-worth. 

First Possible Jewish Approach to Not Returning to the Ways of the Dumb Beasts

After a bit of a tangent, it is now time to return to Aslan's command at the beginning of Narnian time. We recall that the command has a positive and negative aspect, "Treat [the Dumb Beasts] gently and cherish them but do not go back to their ways..." We spent a significant amount of time attempting to determine what (if any) particular actions or values are included in this command. We also noted that there does not seem to be much attention paid or centrality given this command. There is no warning to remember the command and precious few mentions of it outside of almost throwaway lines in various ones of the Chronicles. 

(Note that this is unlike the Signs given to Jill in The Silver Chair where, parallel to the Shema declaration, she is commanded to "say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night.")

I've always found this quite difficult. After all, if you heard a direct command from God, wouldn't you want to make sure you always remembered what He said and consider His words more precious than diamonds? Wouldn't you ensure there were written texts, rituals, reminders, and holidays so that for generations God's word would endure? To me that would be a given, but it doesn't seem to have happened in Narnia. 

With that in mind, I would like to do a quick thought experiment. Let us imagine a Jewish Narnia, in which the Talking Beasts mimicked a Jewish approach to Law and ritual, and to whom the same command was given. What would happen? 

Actually, I think there are a couple of models: the Shabbos (the Sabbath) model and the Love Your Neighbor model. We'll take each one, explain it, and then apply the model to Aslan's stated prohibition against returning to the ways of the Dumb Beasts. 

Let's start with the Shabbos model. On the seventh day of the week God commanded the Jews not to do work, "but the seventh day is a sabbath of your God, you shall not do any work..." (Deuteronomy 5:14). However, outside of an explicit prohibition against burning fire (Exodus 35:3), there is no explanation as to what constitutes work.  Nonetheless, following the given rules describing how to derive laws from the text of the Torah 39 different categories of work are defined! On top of that there are numerous rabbinic injunctions to (1) ensure that one does not unknowingly come to violate Shabbos, and (2) retain the aura of Shabbos as a day or rest.  

In fact, the definitions of the categories and their rules are so strong that there is little undefined wiggle room left in the unvarnished statement prohibiting work. Should someone suggest that an action violates the prohibitino of work on Shabbos, the immediate question would be, which of the 39 categories includes this action. And if it does not fit any of the 39 categories, it's not (biblically) prohibited. Similarly, with further categories enumerated by the Sages. One may decide, and even promulgate, the notion that a certain activity that does not fit into one of the 39 categories is not Shabbos-dik (meaning it is not in the spirit of Shabbos) and that may be correct. But no one would suggest that this newly defined activity violates the biblical prohibition. 

Instead, we have well-defined categories of work with a myriad of rules and details. 

Is it too easy to lose the forest for the trees? Perhaps, but I would counter that attention to details demonstrates Judaism's love, care, and seriousness about the word of God, and that the lived experience of Shabbos is easily and respectfully done without loss of forests. 

So, what happens when we apply this model to Aslan's command?

We'll try to guess in our next post. 

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…   

Aslan's Inaugural Adress

At first glance it may appear that the comment of Strawberry on which we ended the last post was ignored by Aslan who continues to address his creations. But in fact, a close reading of Aslan’s address demonstrates that he addresses Strawberry directly, Aslan is telling the creatures what they need to know.

Creatures, I give you yourselves. I give to you forever this land of Narnia. I give you the woods, the fruits, the rivers. I give you the stars and I give you myself. The Dumb Beasts whom I have not chosen are yours also. Treat them gently and cherish them but do not go back to their ways lest you cease to be Talking Beasts. For out of them you were taken and into them you can return. Do not do so.

In a few short lines, these inaugural words of Aslan to his creatures synthesize parts of Genesis 1 and Genesis 2. In Genesis 1, God gives Adam, “... every seed-bearing plant that is upon all the earth, and every tree that has seed-bearing fruit…” (Genesis 1:29). All of this is given to man as food. In addition, upon creating man, God declares, “They shall rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the cattle, the whole earth, and all the creeping things that creep on earth” (Genesis 1:26). Aslan gives the Talking Beasts, the woods, fruits, rivers, the stars, and even himself (in the bible, God does not give Himself to man, instead, in Genesis 2 God gives Adam a helpmate, we’ll have to try to address this later).

In Genesis 2, God commands man, just as Aslan issues commands. God commands man not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge lest man die (Genesis 2:17) and return to the dust from which he came (Genesis 3:19). Aslan commands the Talking Beasts not to return to the ways of Dumb Beasts from which they have been chosen lest they cease to be Talking Beasts.

It is worth noting a comment of Sforno which brings the Narnian creation story even closer to that of the bible. Clarifying the verse (Genesis 1:26), “Let us make man in our image…,” Sforno interprets that God is advising His Heavenly Court concerning the creature man. This creature had been created with all the rest, but now God sees fit to endow it with His “image” and “likeness.” Like the chosen beasts of Narnia, in this reading the bible also endows with godliness creatures that are first created as one of the beasts.

The two-step process towards godliness is apparently fundamental in creation and requires further explanation.

Returning to Aslan’s commands (remembering that there is at least one more coming up in The Magician’s Nephew), they are the response to Strawberry’s self-doubt. Simple knowledge of oneself and one’s capabilities is not sufficient to fulfill Aslan’s purpose in creating Narnia. Aslan’s commands provide that knowledge. They can be used to distinguish right from wrong, what is proper and appropriate and what is slovenly and unacceptable.

Let’s take a closer look at these commands in our next post.  

We Know

As we have discussed previously, Aslan’s declaration of Narnia consists of three parts: a call awakening Narnia, a series of four commands, and a descriptive fulfillment of Narnia’s awakening with the proclamation to be walking trees, talking beasts, and divine waters.

The response of Narnia’s sentient creatures (talking beasts, dwarfs, dryads, river gods) appears to parallel Aslan’s opening declaration. They salute Aslan and acknowledge and pledge to fulfill his four commands.

The creatures then make one additional assertion, “We know.” 

From the perspective of formulation, this statement is consistent with the creature’s acknowledgements of Aslan’s commands, “We love, we think…” But Aslan does not command the creatures to “Know” as he does to love and think. So, to what end is the creature’s assertion that they know?

Structurally, “We know,” is then in response to the third and final part of Aslan’s declaration, “Be walking trees. Be talking beasts. Be divine waters.” To the creatures to “Be” is to “Know.” The creatures may be reassuring Aslan that they know who and what they are. They know they are walking trees, they know they are talking beasts, and they know they are divine waters. The creatures even know that they love, think, and speak and perhaps even that they do so for Aslan’s command has instilled those capabilities within them.

Is such knowledge enough? 

Is knowing one’s origin and one’s capabilities (as instilled by Aslan) sufficient to fulfill Aslan’s purpose in your creation? 

Is that all that Aslan means when he calls for Narnia to awaken?

It is Strawberry who meekly raises some doubt. Though only as a dream, he has a dim recollection of another world. A world where there seem to be other things to know, but less capability to do so. He faintly remembers work, social interactions, punishments, but also rewards. The work is hard, the social rules mysterious, the punishments painful, but the sweet rewards wonderful.

So he humbly adds, “But please, we don't know very much yet.”

In this new country is there more to know?

Hail Aslan

Hail, Aslan. We hear and obey. We are awake. We love. We think. We speak. We know. 

The response of the talking beasts and other creatures of Narnia to Aslan, is very much in parallel to Aslan’s command. Aslan calls Narnia into being and commands them, the creatures salute him in return and pledge their service. They acknowledge Aslan’s commands to love, think, and speak, and their own capacity to do so.  Finally, they claim to know which does not appear to have a parallel in Aslan’s commands. This latter point will have to be addressed later, for now we concentrate on the creature’s response to being awakened, “We hear and obey.” 

In our last post we noted that the structure of Alsan’s opening speech to the new world of Narnia emphasizes the commands. To “be,” as Alsan asserts, is to be commanded. The creatures submit to being commanded (not necessarily the specific commands as they acknowledge each of those separately) by responding, “We hear and obey.” Aslan commands, the creatures hear his will, and execute. 

The biblical account, however, is different. After Moses descends from Mount Sinai, he tells the Children of Israel the "words of God and his statutes." The Children of Israel simply respond (Exodus 24:3), “We will do,” similar to Lewis’ “we obey.” However, there is no “we will hear.” An explanation as to why not to include a step prior to obedience is as follows. Stating “we will hear” as in we register the sound as comprehensible speech, is a given. Of course, one cannot obey if the command does not register. “We will hear,” may instead imply comprehension, understanding, and agreement. But none of these are necessary. God’s command is sacrosanct and must be obeyed even in the absence of agreement or even comprehension. The straightforward response, "We will do," leaves no room to do anything else.

Interestingly, the Children of Israel do proclaim “we will hear” a few verses later (24:7). After Moses' reading of the Book of the Covenant the Children of Israel declare, “All that God speaks we will do, and we will hear.” This appears to be in the wrong order! Hearing should be before obeying. Ibn Ezra sites two explanations for this order: (1) we will fulfill God’s current commands and hear His future commands, (2) we will perform his positive commands and do (or guard) his negative commands. But perhaps a more straightforward explanation flows from what we said above. Comprehension and understanding of God’s commands has its place, but not at the expense of fulfillment. 

Trees, Beasts, Waters

 Be walking trees. Be talking beasts. Be divine waters

Aslan’s opening proclamation of Narnia may be viewed as three statements in a chiasmus structure (a common biblical literary structure):

1) Narnia, Narnia, Narnia

2)         Awake. Love. Think. Speak.

3) Be walking trees. Be talking beasts. Be divine waters.

 

The first and third statements are declarative, each consisting of three parts. In the first statement each part is simply the call, “Narnia.” In the third statement, each part starts with the word, “Be.” These statements are of one theme, and are written in parallel, they define the country of Narnia. Each call “Narnia” of Aslan is fulfilled by the emergence of life and sentience in the trees, beasts, and waters.

The middle statement is a rendering of four commands each which we have examined in previous posts. 

The chiastic structure emphasizes this middle verse as the purpose of the declarative statements. Narnia is sung/spoken into being so that trees, beasts, and waters can fulfill these divine imperatives. 

Why does Lewis call out the trees, beasts, and waters, as the fulfillment of the call of Narnia? Aslan has already spent much time and effort on the emergence of the beasts as the human parallels of the Narnia creation story. The trees and the water (which simply appear from Aslan’s song) perhaps are meant to demonstrate that nature too reflects the Creator. In our world nature manifests God’s glory, but also, at times, His kindness or anger. Sin can cause a corruption of nature, as our Sages assert occurred in the pre-Deluge world. 

In Narnia, nature is actual creatures with wisdom and free-will. Nature can actively turn against Aslan, as Mr. Beaver says of the trees that have joined “Her side,” or as the dwarfs who are forgetful after the Telmarine conquest. Interestingly, as noted in our post on dwarfs, it is the humanlike beasts who don’t forget and eventually teach the Sons of Earth to worship Aslan and awaken the trees to fight in Aslan’s army. Humanity must guard and care for nature, and ensure it lives up to its divine inspiration.  

However, this environmental approach to Aslan’s statement goes beyond merely the importance of nature in Lewis’ worldview and our need to cherish it. By invoking a chiasmus structure, Lewis teaches us that all of Creation is subject to God’s commands. To be is to be commanded by God. 

Think. Speak.

After sharing with his creations the ideal of love, Aslan directs them in the tools they will need to bring this about, namely thought and speech. While certainly action will also be necessary to attain a love of God and the love of their fellows, it is thought and speech that separate the sentient beings from the Dumb Beasts. This is true for only by thought and (in general) appropriate counsel can an action be so prescribed as to attain a desired result.

Though the biblical account does not explicitly call out speech or thought in the story of creation it was inserted into the story by the earliest of the Jewish commentaries. In doing so, the creation of man is imbued with an aura of imitatio dei lacking from Lewis’ retelling. Let me explain.

In translating the original Hebrew text of the verse, “and man became a living creature,” the Targum states, “and man became a spirit of speech/thought.” The classic commentators discuss whether the Targum refers primarily to speech or to thought. R’ Bahya invokes the Targum’s translation when speaking of the power of speech as that of life or death. In contrast the commentary Akeidat Yitzchak clearly states that the Targum is first and foremost referencing thought (inner speech), but that speech per se is its partner in that it is the mode of revealing one’s thoughts.

In the biblical account of creation God creates the world via speech. This is noted by the Psalmist (33:6), “By the word of God the heavens were made, and by the breath of His mouth, all of their host.” When God blows into man the soul of life and transforms him into a “spirit of speech” He bequeaths to man the power to create. God created via speech and man, using God’s gift, may also create.

In Lewis’ account of creation, Alsan creates via song. And while the stars sing creating the music of the spheres, the creatures (be they beast, man, or dwarf) do not. They are thus lacking this connection to Aslan.

In fact, there is precious little singing in the Chronicles of Narnia. There are birds singing at various points. The revelers set to join the Old Narnian army to fight Miraz sing, as do the dwarfs in defiance of Rishda Tarkaan. The mer-people sing to honor the coronation of the Pevensies. But the only other singing of praise, akin to the music of the spheres, is the song of Ramandu (the star) and his daughter in praise of Aslan. Of course, there is also very little prayer in the Chronicles of Narnia. Maybe we can address that in a later post.

Love!

Aslan’s next command to the newly created creatures of Narnia is “Love!” Given the importance of Love in Lewis’ theology we should not be surprised by its prominent place in the creation story. However, as a command, it seems quite out of place at this point in time.

Lewis wrote an entire book, “The Four Loves,” in which he warns against love becoming a god, “Love, having become a god, becomes a demon.” Only when one loves the true God can the natural loves take their rightful place and reflect His glory. Yet, throughout the entire book in which Lewis describes multiple loving relationships, what they consist of, and how they occur, he quite fails to define what love means. Nonetheless, he provides a working definition in “Mere Christianity”:

        [Love] is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit…

Though the quote is in the context of a married couple, I think Lewis would apply it equally to other loving relationships.

This brings us to quite a quandary. No one in the new country of Narnia has met anyone yet. They do not yet think or speak. In fact, Strawberry (the horse) says it quite clearly, “"But please, we don't know very much yet." So how can they love?

One might suggest that the creatures have already experienced the presence of Aslan and the command is to love him. After all, loving God is the prerequisite for all lasting loving relationships. I have to say, I don’t really like this suggestion. I am not convinced that a short experience, even a very powerful one, brings about the deep, heartfelt, unity Lewis surely wants out of those who love God. The Jewish people themselves seem to have failed quite spectacularly in this situation when worshiping the Golden Calf shortly after the Revelation at Sinai.

I would rather say that Lewis commands love at the dawn of creation as the ideal or purpose; the state that all must strive for. It is Aslan's goal for the world and not only its means. The next two commands, “Think” and “Speak” are clearly not goals, they have no value in and of themselves. They are instead the tools that are used to accomplish Aslan’s purpose in creating Narnia. He expands upon those goals later, but in a word, the goal is “Love!”

It is worth noting that the biblical account of creation makes no mention of love whatsoever. In Genesis 1, God creates man to subdue the world, to tame it. To transform God’s world into the utopian visions of Isaiah and Micah. In Genesis 2, man is further commanded to work the land and guard it. The bible emphasizes action above character traits for it is through action that character traits are developed.

This latter point is attested to in a myriad of Jewish sources and is also recommended by Lewis himself as in the quote above. But that’s a topic for another post.

Awake!

I will for now, simply ignore the problems I am having dwarfs and continue discussing the creation of Narnia. 

Narnia, Narnia, Narnia, awake. Love. Think. Speak.

Aslan’s first words are a three-time repetition of the name of land (or maybe the name of the world), followed by four commands: awake, love, think, and speak.

In the biblical creation story (Genesis 1) God creates via speech. In this way he names and defines all things. Aslan, however, has not to this point spoken. Thus, Aslan first calls out “Narnia” (three times). Doing so unifies creation under a single name and presumably not just the Talking Beasts but also to the land and water of Narnia.

Aslan’s first command is “Awake!” This seems rather unnecessary as Aslan has already spent quite a bit of time fashioning and then providing sentience to the beasts. Nonetheless, it serves to awaken to Nature that surrounds them. And indeed, at Aslan’s command, Nature produces its own sentient manifestations: dwarfs, fauns, dryads, and river-gods. These creatures can work and live together (like Trufflehunter and Trumpkin) as long as the Narnian’s are one with their woodland environment. Cutting down trees will (and does) lead to the death of Narnia.

I haven’t read this book on Lewis’ approach to environmentalism, but this seems like pretty good support to me.

A Problem of Dwarfs

My apologies for not posting in quite a while.

While I've been generally happy with our current analysis of the Narnian Creation story I'm hesitating before pushing forward with Aslan's first words, which end with the first command, "Narnia, Narnia, Narnia, awake." The reason is because following the thought process I've started with this line brings up a point of confusion which I'm not sure what to do about. Let me try to explain... 

To what or whom is Aslan's command "awake" directed towards? 

I think there are a number of possibilities.

A priori, one may think that the command is aimed towards the (soon to become) Talking Beasts whose creation process we have spoken about in great detail. The problem with that approach is that immediately after Aslan's first words a number of other sentient beings suddenly appear: gods and goddesses of woods, Fauns, Satyrs, Dwarfs, the river god and the Naiads. They respond to Aslan's commands in the same way as do the Talking Beasts. And so their arrival suggests that Aslan's command to awake is focused not (or at least not only) on the Talking Beasts, but on the water and land, on Narnia itself. These new creatures (and presumably others like mermaids) are personifications of Narnia's earth and sea when awoken. 

OK, so awake refers to multiple sentient creatures not just the Talking Beasts. 

So far so good, except for this. My approach to Narnia, and certainly the implication from its story of Creation is that the Talking Beasts were in place of the humans in our world. True, the Talking Beasts are supposed to be ruled by a Son of Adam, nonetheless, they are the true heirs of Narnia. 

Actually, the Beasts appear to have a deep mistrust of humanoid figures. Mr Beaver says it most explicitly, in a conversation with his wife:

"I've known good Dwarfs," said Mrs Beaver.

"So've I, now you come to speak of it," said her husband, "but precious few, and they were the ones least like men. But in general, take my advice, when you meet anything that's going to be human and isn't yet, or used to be human once and isn't now, or ought to be human and isn't, you keep your eyes on it and feel for your hatchet."

And the actions of human-like creatures, specifically dwarfs, supports Mr Beaver's claim. The dwarfs (or at least a good number of them) joined the White Witch. After the great battles with Telmar it is the dwarfs who are willing to disguise themselves and assimilate into the victorious Telmarines. Even those who do not assimilate forget Aslan after 10 generations of Telmarine rule. And, of course, the dwarfs rebel against Tirian in The Last Battle and shut off any hope of redemption. 

The fact that the dwarfs can mate with humans and are, in the words of Trufflehunter, "As forgetful and changeable as humans," suggests that the Talking Beasts are not the most human-like creatures in Narnia. The dwarfs are! They are called Sons of Earth, just like in our world Adam is called Adam for he was taken from the ground (adamah). 

If that is so, why are they not part of Aslan's deliberate, multi-step creation process?  

The Creation of Narnia: A Swift Flash

Then there came a swift flash like fire (but it burnt nobody) either from the sky or from the Lion itself, and every drop of blood tingled in the children's bodies… 

(The Magician's Nephew)

With the breath of life being blown into the sentient beasts of Narnia and having been welcomed to the great story of Aslan by the singing of the stars, a flash causes the children’s (and presumably the Talking Beasts’) blood to tingle. Dr. Ward already notes that “tingle” when used by Lewis is “loaded with astrological significance.” What happened here? 

Lewis posits two possible origins for the flash. Of course, as Lewis is the author of the story, Lewis could have told us where he wanted the flash to come from. The fact that he doesn’t suggests that he wants either the ambiguity or that both possibilities are (at least symbolically) true. 

The first possible origin of the flash is from the sky, likely meaning the stars. This logically connects with the previous sentence describing the stars’ song. Before the song becomes inaudible, they (as it were) reach out in friendship and solidarity to their fellow-creatures about to begin their service of Aslan. 

This is supported by the only other time Lewis uses the word tingle in the Chronicles, “She went up to the desk and laid her hand on the book; her fingers tingled when she touched it as if it were full of electricity.” Lucy is preparing to find the spell to make the Dufflepuds visible. This requires reading a spell from the Magician’s Book. Unbeknownst to Lucy, the Magician is actually Coriakin, a star. Upon touching the Book of the star, her fingers tingle, for that is the result when the heavenly and earthly connect.

The second possibility is that the flash comes from the Lion. As we remember the Lion (either during or right before the stars’ singing) had breathed out, presumably breathing his spark into what are about to be the sentient creatures of Narnia. How does a swift flash come from the Lion’s breath? 

Perhaps one can suggest that the flash comes at the completion of Alsan’s blowing. The reason for this is as follows. A slow steady breath suggests that the Talking Beasts gain sentience in a slow, incremental manner. The difference then between the Talking and Dumb Beasts, one might think, is incremental, quantitative, they have greater intelligence and insight, nothing more. 

The swift flash upon the Talking Beasts receiving the divine spark demonstrates this is not true. The Talking Beasts are qualitatively different. They can connect with God; they are part of the Great Story. The Dumb Beasts are not. 

(Perhaps that is why Lewis says a “swift flash,” after all, isn’t a flash swift by definition? One might suggest that the flash is described as swift in contrast to the slow breath of Aslan. The build-up is slow, but the divine spark is instantaneous.)

The Talking Beasts are now fully sentient. They are infused with a divine spark. Even so, a sentient, talking being is no better than a non-sentient, dumb one without order, civility, and morality. There must be a command, and we thus wait for Aslan to speak.

The Stars' Song

Far overhead from beyond the veil of blue sky which hid them the stars sang again; a pure, cold, difficult music

(The Magician's Nephew)

In our last post we saw that, upon awakening of sentient beings in Narnia, the stars welcome them to the great Symphony of Creation. Before going on in the Creation story let’s take a few moments to consider the song of the stars. Lewis describes the song as “pure, cold, and difficult.” What is the song as described by these three adjectives?

We have previously discussed that the Heavenly luminaries sing praises to God, the music of the spheres, by following His laws (what we call the laws of physics). Perhaps it is these laws, and not a tune per se, that Lewis is referring to. Let us see how relevant this description is.  

From our earthly perspective, we observe the stars move as governed by the laws of gravity. While not a priori obvious, Newton’s Law of Universal Gravitation is surprisingly simple depending only on the mass of the objects involved and the distance between them (moderated by the gravitational constant). This simplicity perhaps is what Lewis refers to as "pure." Lewis rarely uses the adjective pure in the Chronicles. When he does, in phrases such as “pure gold,” or “purest of blood,” it appears defined as unadulterated, not mixed with anything else. So too here: the law governing the movement of the stars is clear, unadulterated, not tinted with anything else.

The term “cold” has regularly been applied to science as in uncaring and immutable. The scientific laws do not care about feelings or effort. They are independent of the goodness or evil of a person. Should someone touch an electrified fence, the righteousness of the individual does not change the shock he or she receives. Even in a religious approach to astronomy, the Heavenly spheres and their music are generally cold and uncaring. It is only with rare exceptions (such as at Joshua’s request for the sun to stop, the destruction of the Temple, or the cataclysmic events of the flood) that the spheres pause or alter their song. The religious approach to the presence or consistency of the music of the spheres, is whether one pays enough attention to hear is sensitive enough to hear and contemplate it.

Finally, Lewis describes the song of the stars as difficult. Indeed, the simplicity of the laws of gravitation should not suggest that the evolution of the spheres guided by these laws is simple or straightforward. It took centuries for humanity to transition from epicycles to gravity and even gravitation can cause complex and intricate dynamics. Hence, while the song of the spheres is simply described, the complexity it leads to may hide the purity of the music.

The song of the stars bids the sentient beings of Narnia to join in the Great Story of Aslan. Furthermore, the song calls out for analysis and contemplation. In our world, humanity has always looked to the stars in awe and wonder. Understanding their song, in the words of Maimonides, enables man to “behold through them His wonderful, matchless and infinite wisdom.” And thus, “he will spontaneously be filled with love, praise and exaltation and become possessed of a great longing to know the Great Name.”

The Creation of Narnia: Contemplation and Enjoyment

The Lion, whose eyes never blinked, stared at the animals as hard as if he was going to burn them up with his mere stare… Many animals sat up on their hind legs. Most put their heads on one side as if they were trying very hard to understand. The Lion opened his mouth, but no sound came from it; he was breathing out, a long, warm breath; it seemed to sway all the beasts as the wind sways a line of trees. Far overhead from beyond the veil of blue sky which hid them the stars sang again; a pure, cold, difficult music. (The Magician's Nephew)

In the first chapter of Planet Narnia, Dr. Michael Ward discusses the importance Lewis placed on the distinction between Contemplation and Enjoyment. The distinction is exemplified In “Meditation in a Toolshed,” where Lewis contrasts looking at a beam of light coming through a crack in the shed, and looking along the beam of light, through the crack to the outside. Looking at the beam is contemplative. From this perspective the beam can be scientifically analyzed, and one can consider its various physical properties. Looking along the beam is enjoyable. The beam itself has “disappeared” but by its light one experiences and is integrated into the world outside the toolshed. Lewis took this division seriously enough as to declare Contemplation and Enjoyment as separate categories of knowledge. 

This being the case, perhaps it is not surprising that the creation of sentient beings in Narnia is done in two steps: Aslan’s stare bestirs the chosen creatures to Contemplate, and Aslan’s breath enables them Enjoy. Aslan’s stare causes them to “try to understand,” to unravel the mysteries of the world around them which, having attained consciousness, they suddenly recognize. Aslan’s breath experientially integrates them into that world enabling them to recognize that they have a role in the Great Story being told by Aslan. Thus, though they cannot see the stars, they hear the music of the spheres, singing the praises of God, welcoming them to the great Symphony of Creation.  

This two-step process in the creation of Narnia represents Lewis’ attempt to harmonize the two Creation stories of the Bible. In Genesis 1, Man is the final step in creation and is empowered by God to subjugate the other creatures and consume the vegetation. In his epic work, “The Lonely Man of Faith,” R’ J.B. Soloveitchik designates Adam of Genesis 1 as “Majestic Man.” To fulfill his destiny the utilitarian Majestic Man invokes science and technology to shape the world and make it more fit for mankind. Majestic Man is contemplative, analyzing creation with the goal of controlling and taming the cosmos. Upon completion of creation at the end of Genesis 1, God sees (as Aslan stares) all that He made, and it is very good. 

In Genesis 2, however, Man is created before vegetation has sprouted and the animals have been formed. In contrast to Majestic Man’s dominion, “Covenantal Man,” the Adam of Genesis 2, is tasked with tilling and guarding the Garden of Eden. Covenantal Man experiences loneliness as he tries to understand his place in Creation. To relieve him of this existential loneliness, God creates the animals which Covenantal Man names as he experiences their true nature. However, none are appropriate companions for man. Finally, God creates Eve with whom Covenantal Man can join the creative process and fulfill God’s plan for creation. Covenantal Man is animated when God blows the soul of life through his nostrils. 

The two Creation stories in Genesis highlight the different perspectives of man. Though superficially at odds, Man must be both: at time Majestic and at time Covenantal, at time Contemplative and at times Enjoying. The bible separates the stories to highlight the aspects of each and the equal importance of both. Lewis attempts to merge Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 into a historical account of creation. Though doing so misses some of the grandeur of the biblical stories, Lewis provides us with a concise account of creation and the complexity of sentient beings.  

The Creation of Narnia: Aslan's Song

The Narnian creation begins with Aslan singing. 

Aslan’s singing creates the physical Narnian universe, from the stars above to the flowers and creatures below. The stars blaze forth and sing with Aslan. The beasts are created and add their voices, “cawing, cooing, crowing, braying, neighing, baying, barking, lowing, bleating, and trumpeting.” 

All the noise of the creatures drowns out Aslan’s songs and Aslan stops singing. He goes amongst the creatures choosing the few who would become Talking Beasts. Those not chosen leave Aslan. The noise fades and, finally, there is a pregnant silence. 

In previous posts we discussed two kinds of silence: (1) the silence of absence and terror, and (2) contemplative silence, the silence that enables thought and learning. The first silence arises when one no longer hears the music of the spheres, when man loses connection with creation and the Creator. The second silence enables one to hear the music of the spheres and engage in reflective and spiritual contemplation. In the Narnian creation story, Aslan's song infused creation with the music of spheres. Upon completion he stops. Creation itself now sings the music of the spheres, but there is no one to discern, understand, and be inspired by the song. 

The chosen beasts stand in contemplative silence eyes fixed on Aslan. 

The song is sung, the audience awaits.