Retaining Childhood

In our quest to define valiance we have temporarily shifted our focus from Reepicheep to Lucy. The adult Lucy was called Queen Lucy the Valiant it seems, because she always “remained gay and golden-haired.” Perhaps unlike the other Pevensies she did not change as she grew older, she retained childhood. This, I claimed, displays her valiance. However, to demonstrate this we must examine whether retaining childhood is desirable for religious man. 

The adult is too clever. Utility is his guiding light. The experience of God is unavailable to those approaching it with a businesslike attitude. Only the child can breach the boundaries that segregate the finite from the infinite. Only the child with his simple faith and fiery enthusiasm can make the miraculous leap into the bosom of God... When it came to faith, the giants of Torah, the geniuses of Israel, became little children, with all their ingenuousness, gracefulness, simplicity, their tremors of fear, their vivid experiences and their devotion to them... Whenever [Moses] fell before God, he cried like a child. Who can fall before his father, raise his eyes to him alone, to seek consolation and salvation, if not the child! ... The mature, the adult, are not capable of the all-embracing and all-penetrating outpouring of the soul. The most sublime crown we can give a great man sparkles with the gems of childhood. (Divrei Hagut Ve-ha'arakha, pp.159-160; in English: Shiurei Harav, pp.63-64)

In the above passage. R’ Joseph B. Soloveitchik speaks of the childlike nature necessary for one to truly trust, pray to, and devote themselves to God. An adult is too practical, too sophisticated. Only one with emotional purity and unbridled enthusiasm can reach out to the Infinite. 

And, indeed, Lucy’s childness reveals itself in just those occasions. When seeing Aslan for the first time in Prince Caspian, Lucy, “Never stopped to think whether he was a friendly lion or not. She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment.” Similarly, when Aslan reveals himself to Lucy in the Magician’s house in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader Lucy, “Ran forward with a little cry of delight and with her arms stretched out.” And finally, when unable to escape the Dark Island Lucy (and only Lucy) prays a childlike prayer, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now.” Like a child demanding the purchase of a toy saying, “If you don’t buy it for me, it shows that you don’t love me.” 

But Aslan listens. Aslan rejoices in Lucy’s unbridled love, trust, and hope as a father rejoices in every action of his children. Therefore, at the end of time it is Lucy who, “was drinking everything in even more deeply than the others.” It was she who could integrate more fully into the true Narnia. 

Lewis himself notes the importance of retaining childhood at the end of the Silver Chair. In a parenthetical comment he notes, “Even in this world, of course, it is the stupidest children who are most childish and the stupidest grown-ups who are most grownup.” He expands on this in Mere Christianity:

[Christ] wants a child's heart, but a grown-up's head. He wants us to be simple, single-minded, affectionate, and teachable, as good children are; but He also wants every bit of intelligence we have to be alert at its job, and in first-class fighting trim. 

In An Experiment in Criticism Lewis enumerates other positive characteristics of childhood:

If we are to use the words ‘childish’ and ‘infantile’ as terms of disapproval, we must make sure that they refer only to those characteristics of childhood which we become better and happier by outgrowing. Who in his sense would not keep, if he could, that tireless curiosity, that intensity of imagination, that facility of suspending disbelief, that unspoiled appetite, that readiness to wonder, to pity, and to admire?”

Like R’ Soloveitchik, Lewis provides a list of childhood characteristics that have value, and should be held on to, even by a grownup. While not exactly the same, and perhaps disagreeing on R’ Soloveitchik’s tremors of fear, the lists appear to complement each other. 

Lucy, by not changing as she has grown up, presumably retains these characteristics. And indeed, we see manifestations of these characteristics even in the short time the Chronicles relate to Lucy as an adult. For example, in The Horse and His Boy it is Lucy who is willing to give Rabadash another chance and it is Lucy who retells the adventures of her and her siblings entrance into Narnia. In The Last Battle, it is Lucy who pities the dwarfs who cannot see the grandeur that surrounds them, and Lucy is the one described as “drinking everything in even more deeply than the others.” 

Our next step is then to determine how to concretize these characteristics into “valiance.” For this, we need to define one more term. In the context of her being titled Queen Lucy the Valiant we are told that she remains, “gay and golden-haired.” So, our next step is to understand how Lewis utilizes the term “gay.” 

The Sound of Silence: Escape

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night

And touched the sound of silence

• Simon and Garfunkel, “The Sound of Silence”

There was a tiny speck of light ahead, and while they watched a broad beam of light fell from it upon the ship. It did not alter the surrounding darkness, but the whole ship was lit up as if by searchlight.

• C.S. Lewis, “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader”

How does the Dawn Treader escape from the Dark Island?

On a practical level, the ship escapes because they saw a beam of light indicating the way out. They then followed an albatross (which looked like a cross) out of the darkness.

But what caused the beam of light to appear? Why was it not there the whole time? 

The answer is Lucy. Lucy throughout the Chronicles has the most intimate relationship with Aslan. It is she who has a premonition to Aslan's death in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It is she who first sees Aslan when the Pevensie children return to Narnia. It is she who cries bitter tears over never meeting Aslan again when informed she will not return to Narnia. And it is only Lucy who can keep a connection to Aslan through the darkness and silence. 

Only Lucy is not consumed by the visions and dreams. Only Lucy can reach through the darkness and silence and pray to Aslan. The prayer itself makes her feel a little better. After all, nothing has happened yet, the visions are not real! But the prayer also makes a small hole in the darkness and a beam of light shines through. The crew is hypnotized, blinded by the light. Caspian looks and sees the crew in a trance. Only Lucy looks ‘along the beam’ and sees the cross, the albatross, and hears the voice of Aslan.

Aslan does the rest. He guides the ship and then destroys the island. But Lucy takes the first step. Lucy’s prayer makes the hole letting a beam of light through, and while everyone else simply sees some light, Lucy looks through the hole, along the beam, and sees God. Lucy holds on and Aslan pulls the entire ship out of the darkness through that hole made by Lucy’s prayer.

Lucy’s first step, making a hole though only the size of a needle, demonstrates an important rabbinic principle: God says to Israel open even a small door for me, even the size of the point of a needle, in repentance, and I will enlarge it so that even wagons and coaches can go through. On our own, however, we cannot break through the silence and repel the darkness, only God can. As Lucy says after the darkness is destroyed and Lord Rhoop attributes this victory to them, “I don’t think it was us.” Correct, but we need to take the first step, no matter how small it might be.

Lewis tells the story from a Christian perspective. Judaism provides an alternative escape. One that does not destroy the silence but transforms it. This method, perhaps cast aside in Christianity, is highlighted in Jew in the City’s contrast between “The Sound of Silence,” and “Lekhah Dodi,” the ritual song that ushers in the Sabbath. On the Sabbath (or Shabbat) Jews are commanded to stop. No work must be implemented, no creative actions are to be performed, and no electricity is to be used. For one day a week, communication is no longer instantaneous and social media is not a means of socializing. All Jews thus escape from the self-worship of the neon gods.

Without work, without cars, and with no devices it may seem that, on the Sabbath, Silence reigns supreme. It does, but it is not the silence of absence, it is Silence to hear other sounds: our spouses, our children, our God - the music of the spheres.

Paul the Apostle abrogated the Mosaic and rabbinic law in favor of faith in Christ. The only means of repentance are through God Himself. Lucy, but only Lucy, has the loving relationship that allows her to call out to Him. Without her the Dawn Treader could never have escaped and certainly could not destroy the darkness. Judaism understands that the rituals and practices of the law are not sterile or without purpose. Rather, they are the path of life, through which we will see light and hear the music of the spheres. God already provided man with the means of transforming darkness and silence. Turn off the Sound of Silence, Turn on the Silence of the Sabbath.

Valiance (Part 2)

Valiance is a character trait that appears to be highly regarded by Lewis in the Chronicles of Narnia especially in the person of Reepicheep the Mouse. What is the definition of valiance and why is it important to the religious persona? Quite a while ago, we started to explore this question. Then, we noted that, minimally, one who is valiant is not scared. However, that alone is insufficient to define the term, or to explain the actions of Reepicheep, the most valiant of all beasts in Narnia. 

In this post we seek to further understand valiance by concentrating on another character conferred the title of valiant, Queen Lucy. The passage calling out Lucy’s valiance is from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe:

But as for Lucy, she was always gay and golden-haired, and all princes in those parts desired her to be their Queen, and her own people called her Queen Lucy the Valiant.

Lucy’s valiance is manifest in that she is “always gay” and was the desire of many princes. This description of Lucy should be immediately contrasted with that of Susan. Susan is described as being, “a tall and gracious woman with black hair that fell almost to her feet and the kings of the countries beyond the sea began to send ambassadors asking for her hand in marriage.” Susan is gracious, while Lucy is gay. Susan is wanted by kings, and Lucy by princes. Why would kings want Susan and princes want Lucy? 

Lewis contrasts the roles of King and prince in the Horse and His Boy. In that story, Corin, surprisingly, rejoices at the appearance of his elder brother Cor exclaiming, “It’s princes that have all the fun.” King Lune agrees, explaining, “For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat…”

So, princes, who are out having fun and adventures would naturally want the happy and joyful Lucy. While kings, who have more serious jobs to do, would certainly rather be matched with the gracious Susan. Frankly, this comparison doesn’t look too good for Lucy. It’s almost like she’s not capable of being serious.

I think, however, Lewis has something else in mind. Lewis starts the description of the four children many years after the Great War with, “And they themselves grew and changed as the years passed over them.” Continuing with “And Peter…,” and again with “And Susan…” Then finishing with “But as for Lucy…” Why is Lucy “but” while the others are “and”? 

We are forced to say that while the other children grew and changed, Lucy did not. She remained gay and golden haired, she retained childhood. 

However, for Lewis, retaining childhood is not a negative. 

Quite the opposite, it’s valiant! 

More in my next post. 

Lucy Won't Grow Up?

A while ago we asked what would have happened to the Pevensie children had they not been killed in the railway accident. For now I'm going to concentrate on Lucy before going off on some other topic (yet again)... 

We've mentioned previously that Lucy is unique amongst the Pevensie children in that she is the only one who does not grow up. At the end of The Lion the Witch and Wardrobe Lewis describes how the children, "grew and changed as the years passed over them." Lucy is described last, and Lewis writes about her, "But as for Lucy, she was always gay and golden-haired..." She did not change, she kept her childlike traits of curiosity, passion, adventurous, and the like as we've discussed before. 

But what would have happened had she grown up in our world? 

Of course, we don't know, she was killed at age 17, still very much a friend of Narnia. Still, we have heroines in Lewis' oeuvre and maybe some of them can serve as models. The most obvious parallel would be Sarah Smith from The Great Divorce. Sarah had "unbearable beauty" no doubt beyond that of all mortals. She is not the only Lewis heroine to have such beauty stemming from the inner spiritual manifesting outward, Psyche (and eventually Orual) do as well. Lucy too sought beauty beyond the lot of mortals and achieves it (almost) upon seeing Aslan.

But what next? Does Lucy join a convent and dedicate her life to Jesus? Does she go to university and give up on spirituality altogether, favoring physical beauty over spiritual? Our Sages suggest this is what happened to Noah's great-grandfather Hanoch, who God killed young before he could go off the proper path. Or does Lucy lead a "normal" Christian life, marrying, having children and grandchildren follow her ways, before her eventual passing?

It's hard to tell since Lewis does not provide us with too many happily married couples. Sarah Smith is married, but her husband is quite the tragedian as we see in the Great Divorce. How they could have gotten along is anyone's guess. And that marriage was probably more successful than that of poor Robert to his overbearing wife. In Narnia, Aravis and Cor marry and seem happy, though we don't know much about their married life besides that they argue and make up. Psyche marries, but, with Orual's help, that doesn't go very well. There are some couples in the Space trilogy: Mark and Jane are married, but that seems more of a convenience than a marriage until the end. Nor do we see methods of having (and raising) children - Lewis speaks positively about family, but we don't see too many.    

Nonetheless, I'm going to assert that Lucy does not grow up. She keeps her valiance, hopefully finds someone appropriate and lives happily ever after. 

Valiance (Part 1)

The Whole Wide World Is a Very Narrow Bridge, and The Important Thing Is to Not Be Afraid

A quick interlude to our search for a Jewish Narnia, motivated by a discussion I had with my kids… 

There are three characters in the Chronicles of Narnia described by Lewis as valiant: Queen Lucy the Valiant, Trumpkin the Dwarf, and Reepicheep, the most valiant of all the Talking Beasts of Narnia. The theme of valiance, as manifested by Reepicheep, plays an especially prevalent role in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  That book was described by Lewis (in a letter to a fan quoted in Prof. Ward’s “Planet Narnia”) as “presenting the spiritual life (especially in Reepicheep).” Why is valiance so important to the spiritual life? Why does R’ Nachman of Breslov (in the above maxim) call not being afraid an ikkar, something centrally important? We will try to answer this question by understanding Reepicheep. 

There are a few useful things to know about Reepicheep: 

First, Reepicheep is bad at chess. Of course, lots of people are bad at chess, but Reepicheep is bad at chess because he sees himself in the pieces he controls. If Reepicheep was a piece, he would certainly put himself into a dangerous battle position irrespective of the likely consequences.  

Second, Caspian warns Reepicheep not to challenge a dragon single-handedly. Caspian does not see fit to warn anyone else. 

Third, Reepicheep has no problem landing on an island that is pitch-black in the middle of the day. No one else thought this was a very good idea. 

Fourth, Reepicheep jumped into the sea to fight seemingly dangerous mermen even though there was no sign of danger and no other obvious reason to do so, except that a challenge was given.   

The above clearly shows that Reepicheep is valiant. But does one really have to be so valiant? Maybe sometimes one should try to avoid danger, rather than jumping in headfirst? Maybe a bit of caution? 

There are a few stages in our quest (if we’re following Reepicheep it should be a quest) to understand the value of valiance in the spiritual persona. We will try to explore them over a few posts. 

Let us start with the concept of fear, the actual subject of R’ Nachman’s verse (now turned song). True fear, not fear that you might miss your bus, but existential fear must be reserved for God alone. Anything else borders on blasphemy (though God has commanded fear of, for example, one’s parents, this is likely because they reflect God). Certainly, one cannot fear a physical enemy knowing that God can sweep them away in a moment! 

Besides the theological pitfalls of fear, lack of fear enables freedom of action. Reepicheep is described as one who lacks fear, “... no one had ever known Reepicheep to be afraid of anything.” He, therefore, can properly judge whether Lucy should face the magician. Others have to be concerned that perhaps they are motivated, or demotivated, by fear thus coloring their judgement. Reepicheep, “could say this (that Lucy should face the magician) without feeling at all awkward.” Thus, it is Lucy’s valiance, combined with Reepicheep’s, that propels Lucy forward. 

However, lack of fear cannot explain the actions of Reepicheep. Lack of fear will allow one to explore the Dark Island, but alone it will not demand the island be explored. Reepicheep must be motivated by a positive force from which his valiance arises. We will explore this force in later posts. 

Does Aslan Choose Only the Pevensies?

Our last post ended with a couple of questions attempting to understand the connection between Aslan and Jesus. Specifically, if Aslan's goal was to sensitize the Pevensies towards recognizing Jesus in our world, why not just come out and say so? Why the coyness? A related question is why were only the Pevensie children given this head start in recognizing God - why not others as well? 

The answer to our first question is already addressed by Lewis in The Screwtape Letters. In the eighth letter, Screwtape sets out the balance with which God approaches humans: 

He cannot ravish. He can only woo. For His ignoble idea is to eat the cake and have it; the creatures are to be one with Him, but yet themselves; merely to cancel them, or assimilate them, will not serve. He is prepared to do a little overriding at the beginning...

Aslan's goal is to keep this balance, making his presence known to the Pevensies in Narnia, but not sharing the same intimacy with them, or even revealing his name, in their own world. 

How far is God willing to go in overriding human will?

Well, maybe that depends on the person. I think, and perhaps Lewis would agree, that God makes overtures to every human. How far God then goes, depends on how each individual responds to His initial overtures. The Pevensies were no different than anyone else. However, Aslan reveals himself almost completely to the Pevensies because the Pevensies, and specifically Lucy, desire his revelation.  

As we remember, it was Lucy who first entered the Wardrobe and "discovered" the world of Narnia. Upon noticing she was out of the Wardrobe and into somewhere else she could have turned around and gone back. But, instead, she displayed a sense of curiosity and a willingness to "suspend disbelief" two childlike characteristics that Lewis praises and are fundamental to forming a relationship with God. And, in fact, she maintains "a devotion to experiences" even in the face of doubt and taunting. 

Lucy's siblings, however, are less keen on entering Narnia. Edmund, of course, is swayed by evil so has a desire to make the best of Narnia when he enters. But Peter and Susan at least consider the possibility of leaving everything behind once they discover Tumnus' home is wrecked. And, thus, again we have a moment of truth. Peter and Susan choose to stay and help instead of going home and thus set themselves up for their first direct revelation of Aslan.

And so it goes, at every step the Pevensies could have made the wrong decision and would not have formed as close of a relationship with Aslan. However, they went all the way, and were finally told that their time in Narnia was up, and further relationships with God must take place in their own world.

The Pevensies were given no more of a head start in forming a relationship with God than anyone else. And while it may seem that way, that is only so because they, and specifically Lucy, heard or felt God's overtures made the right decisions at the right times. 

As for the rest of us, perhaps we have missed overtures in our own life. Or maybe we heard them but failed to follow because we were scared or lazy. Maybe we heard God's knock but struggled to get out of bed to answer the door or maybe we were too busy with our smartphones to even hear the knock. Either way, there is no reason to despair (I hope). God continues to send out overtures, He keeps knocking, and that's how we can keep going into adulthood. 

We'll start with Lucy... 

On Moses' Savior and Aslan's Actor

Several years ago, I watched the first Harry Potter movie with my son...

I complained about it for a week: it wasn't true to the book, the drama was underplayed, some of the scenes were just horribly wrong... 

So, as you can imagine, when some time later I metioned to my wife that perhaps I should watch "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," just to see how it was done, my wife absolutely forbade it. After all, if it took a week of complaining about Harry Potter, can you imagine how long I would complain about "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"?

She was right, of course, and to this day, I have never seen those movies. 

So, when the news came out that Netflix was going to take its turn in transforming the Chronicles into movies, I didn't think much of it - I wasn't going to watch them anyway. But there's lots of news about these movies and some of the latest news got me thinking as to what would make a good movie.

In truth, there is a book much more important than any of the Chronicles, parts of which have been turned into movies several times. Of course, I refer to the bible itself. And it happens that, despite some disregard to the biblical narrative, I really loved The Prince of Egypt. The reason, I think, is that mostly the changes were superficial, Moses being lifted from the water by Pharoah's wife instead of daughter. The whole part of Tzipporah in Egypt and being offered as a wife to Ramses. I'm not quite sure why those changes were made, but it did not at all appear to be an attack on the source material, the bible. 

In fact, in some ways, making a movie of the bible is easier than making a movie about a book. Biblical stories are generally short, lacking explicit detail, and even internal emotion of the characters. Prince of Egypt capitalizes on this in portraying the evolving relationship between Moses and Ramses, inventing how Moses learned he was a Hebrew, and giving some time to Moses long stint in Midian. And of course, the bible is not a musical so Disney could add all sorts of songs without compromising the story.

Nonetheless, adding in these details can cause harm should they counter the main themes of the particular biblical story, somehow unmoor the story from the rest of biblical history, or undermine the biblical view of ethics and morality. For example, a vindictive Moses showing scorn to Pharoah as the Egyptian economy is deciamated, an authoritarian Moses chastising the Hebrews who question whether he in an emissary of God, a triumphalist Moses ridiculing Ramses as he is thrashing in the sea could have been inserted into the movie without violence to the biblical story. But doing so would have sharply violated Judeo-Christian ethics and morals and thus undermined the movie. I don't think the movie did that. Quite the opposite I think the details enhanced ethical and moral lessons of the story. But, there still is a lot of leeway in filling in those details. 

The Narnian stories are much more detailed than the biblical ones. That means there's a lot more material that, if changed, can be regarded as blasphemous in the eyes of the viewers. Of course, one can raise questions as to what is important in the stories themselves. For example, Lucy is clearly described as "golden-haired" in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Yet, I didn't hear any complaints that her hair was brown in the most recent movie. Now, in truth I might say Lucy's golden hair is not coincidental, but that it reflects Lucy's servitude to Aslan whose mane, fur, back, and even voice are described as golden throughout the Chronicles.   

Now, I'm not trying to make the color of Lucy's hair a complaint. I am simply noting that with more details come more potential changes from book to movie, and therefore more room for people to criticize changes in what they regard as integral to the books. 

So, the first step of a director transforming a book into a movie is to identify what is fundamental and what is not. What is important in the Chronicles of Narnia? 

As with the biblical stories, this question must resonate on a number of levels. There is the integrity of the story in front of us, the newest one being The Magician's Nephew, how that particular story fits in with the other Chronicles (and, being a prequel, this is most important), and a fidelity to the morals and ethics of the story's source. And here, in this last level, is where most of the drama in the directing of the movie will take place. 

One can, in fact, forget the Christian allegory of the Chronicles. One need not be a Christian, or even a theist, to enjoy the stories. But it is difficult to imagine that one who does not have a basic working knowledge of Christianity and at least respects the values it represents can fully appreciate the stories for what they are. Thus, ignoring the Christianity of the Chronicles will fundamentally undermine the stories, making them less faithful to their original, less important to their audience, and, at the end, less enjoyable as a story. 

Gaiety and Valiance

Lucy, though grownup at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, remains “gay and goldenhaired,” and is thus called Queen Lucy the Valiant. Therefore, if are to understand valiance in the character of Lucy, we must first define “gay.” 

Lewis uses the word “gay” 16 times in the Chronicles (and the word "gaiety" once). Six of those times are in The Silver Chair upon Puddleglum, Eustace, and Jill's discovery that the giants plan to eat them. Puddleglum directs the children to act “gay,” and gives us something of a definition: “Gay. As if we hadn't a care in the world.” Of course, as Lewis notes, Puddleglum, and Marsh-wiggles in general, are absolutely horrid at acting gay. In fact, they may be the exact opposite of "gay" given that Marsh-wiggles always expect the worst and act in direct opposition of carefree. 

Three times gay is used in the context of clothes. Perhaps clothes can also be carefree, but it’s difficult to imagine that Aravis, for example, when trying to trick her father into thinking how happy she was being engaged to Ahoshta, put on “her most carefree clothes.” Rather gay in this context presumably means the brightest, fanciest, and most merry clothes. This definition does not contradict the previous one, rather it explains that forces us to redefine carefree. Carefree does not mean not caring, but it means having an affectation of not caring because one is cheerful and optimistic. 

In Prince Caspian, the word gay is twice used with respect to flora: the rowans surrounding Aslan when he awakens the trees are called gay, and the hedges that Bacchus causes to sprout moments before they take down the bridge in Beruna are "gay with hawthorns." Both of these flora are colorful and bright and it would appear that “gay” here is used in the same way as with respect to clothes. 

Lewis also uses the word gay to describe wind (The Voyage of the Dawn Treader) and sound (The Horse and His Boy). The ship in the picture on the wall of Aunt Alberta’s back room (which becomes the Dawn Treader) runs before a “gay wind,” and King Lune’s hunting horn is “gay and merry.” In both of these cases the items in question presumably cause gaiety: the ship appears joyful as it sails along the waves, and the hunt is done with festivities and merriment. 

The final two occasions of the use of the description “gay” are connected with two of Narnia’s most important characters. Reepicheep, the most valiant of all beasts, is introduced as “a gay and martial mouse.” Finally, when Aslan reveals himself to Shasta in the Horse and His Boy he says “Myself,” in a voice that is “loud and clear and gay.” 

As a whole these examples suggest that “gay,” as used by Lewis in the Chronicles, means joyous, optimistic, and ready to face the future. Yet, this should not be conflated with frivolous or without seriousness (though Puddlieglum and the children likely tried to behave that in that way before the giants). After all, one would certainly not characterize Reepicheep, let alone Aslan himself, as frivolous. 

Lucy’s gaiety is what makes her so attractive to princes who value joy over graciousness, and optimism over courtliness. It is what made her so charming in the eyes of the people who saw gold in her hair. And it is what made her so beloved to Aslan in whom she placed the complete faith and devotion of a young child for a parent. 

However, “gay” alone is insufficient to characterize valiant. We see this because the two terms are also contrasted. The sound of the trumpets before King Edmund’s army on their its way to defend King Lune was “not huge and solemn like the horns of Tashbaan nor gay and merry like King Lune's hunting horn, but clear and sharp and valiant.” From this it appears that valiance has an aspect of sharpness, perhaps immediacy, that is lacking in gaiety. 

We will examine this further in our next post. 

Valiance: Lucy and Reepicheep

Over the last few posts we have analyzed what makes Lucy valiant. Two themes, likely coupled themes, emerged. The first is Lucy’s ability to retain the positive aspects of childhood: all-encompassing faith, fiery enthusiasm, and tireless curiosity, even as a mature adult. The second is gaiety as reflected in her positive outlook and enthusiasm for the future.

Yet, in our last post, we saw that gaiety on its own does not encompass valiance. In fact, Lewis contrasts gaiety with that which is “clear, sharp, and valiant.” Thus, while valiance does appear to incorporate many aspects of gaiety it also reflects a sense of clarity and perhaps even urgency

With this in hand we can now turn back to Reepicheep, the most valiant of all the beasts in Narnia. We have already noted Reepicheep’s complete lack of fear and we can perhaps now suggest where it comes from. Lack of fear is not a function of bravery, or even of strength. As R’ Soloveitchik said, “Only the child with his simple faith and fiery enthusiasm can make the miraculous leap into the bosom of God…” And once in the bosom of God, what is there to fear?

Furthermore, Reepicheep’s all encompassing faith enables his complete identification with God. A sign of cowardice, such as not sailing to the Dark Island, or betrayal, such as not searching for Eustace, would suggest that these characteristics reflect God. Reepicheep is assured of protection because God is the Great Protector. He will single-handedly take on a dragon or a sea serpent for nothing is too powerful for God. He is assured of success for even in a lost battle he adheres to the will of God.

Some final thoughts on this next time.

The Lamp-post and the Burning Bush (Part 1)

The redemption of Narnia began with Lucy discovering the lamp-post.  

But this is not the only such story in our world too redemption began with seeing a strange, unnatural light. 

In both cases, the light attracted a great leader, who needed to be thrust into leadership, to be convinced they would be a redeemer. 

In Narnia it is Lucy, a seemingly normal young girl who wonders about the lamp-post and, though never told of its origin, seemingly by coincidence and loyalty becomes a beloved Queen. In our world, that figure is Moses, who perceives God in a burning bush and is commanded to go to Egypt to demand the freedom of the Children of Israel.

Let us reassess Moses' story. Moses has escaped from Egypt, and we find him peacefully settled in Midian. He spends his days shepherding his father-in-law's sheep. One day, he heads for the wilderness and finds himself at the Mountain of God, Horeb. Now, there is no Mountain of God mentioned in Genesis (though Isaac's binding did take place on a mountain) so the midrash tells us that the moniker is future oriented, namely that it is Mount Sinai upon which God will reveal Himself and present the Torah to the Children of Israel. But, of course, Moses doesn't know this. 

So, Moses finds himself on a random mountain and sees a burning bush. He turns to it to assess how it is that the bush is on fire but not being consumed. The text is careful to point out the active decision Moses made and that it was noticed by God (Exodus 3:3-4): 

Moses said, “I must turn aside to look at this marvelous sight; why doesn’t the bush burn up?” And God saw that he had turned aside to look, God called to him out of the bush: “Moses! Moses!” He answered, “Here I am.”  

Moses contemplates the bush, and God notices. Only then does God call out. 

Is there anyone with Moses who ignored the bush? From the story it doesn't seem so (though one midrash says there were others present, but they could not see the burning bush), but it doesn't particularly matter.

Notice how redemption starts. Not with a grand revelation, not with a holy declaration but with seemingly ordinary people willing to accept that light can come from an unnatural source. 

Edmond also sees the light, but he doesn't see the lamp-post. To him light comes from elsewhere - from Turkish delight and magical power. But to Lucy, light comes from a friendly faun and willingness to forgive, she can bring redemption.  

And for Moses light comes from a people who, though enslaved and embittered, under constant attack and abandoned by the world, are not willing to give up. For they know that God's redemption will come. 

Photo by Sarah Sheedy on Unsplash

On Revealing and Unrevealing Disguises (Part 1)

Our sages tell us that you can learn of someone's true nature if you observe them in three contexts: their wallet (their business dealings), when they are angry, and when they drink. On Purim, which for non-Jerusalmites falls out on Friday (March 14), two of these factors come into play: money, where there is an extra emphasis and command to give money to the poor, and wine, which is traditionally drunk due to the centrailty of wine in the commemorated story of Queen Esther. 

In place of anger, however, I have often suggested that the Jewish people have developed another method of demonstrating their true nature, which is the custom of dressing up. How this custom arose is not the goal of this post, but I nonetheless think that how someone dresses up may provide insight into their nature. I think people inherently realize this when in English they will colloquially say, "I am going to be ______ for Purim?" And of course, that's silly. People are who they are and do not become a princess, Batman, or Aaron Judge on Purim. But perhaps there's more than just a shortening of language in this formulation, when someone says they "want to be," rather than saying they "want to dress up as." Because, to some degree, the person really would like to be Queen Esther, a soldier, or a fireman - why else would they want to dress up as that person or object?

This is true dressing up - in fact we might say it's a revealing disguise, because while the disguise may make someone look like someone or something else, in fact, it reveals an aspect of who they really are. 

Before tying this into Narnia, I'll just note that personally I do not dress up (or drink) on Purim because I am perfectly happy being myself (not that there isn't much to criticize in that). However, this year, I will wear my math tie in honor of Pi Day.   

Anyway... on to Narnia...

There is quite a bit of dressing up in Narnia and I think what we'll see is that there are good ways and bad ways to dress up. When Lucy first enters Narnia she meets the faun Tumnus who is unknowingly dressed up look "just as if he had been doing his Christmas shopping." Of course, as we've discussed elsewhere, if there was one thing Tumnus was NOT doing it was Christmas shopping. But Tumnus, perhaps still unconsciously, yearned for the time that he would be able to, and I have no doubt that less than 12 months later he was in fact Christmas shopping. This "disguise" was revealing. It showed us the true nature of Tumnus' soul - he was yearning for redemption. He knew there would be redemption, and he disguised himself to reveal the coming of redemption. 

Next, when the Pevensie children enter Narnia for the first time together they don fur coats leading Lucy to exclaim, "We can pretend we are Arctic explorers," and she's in some senses correct, but it is an unrevealing disguise. It does not truly demonstrate who they are or what they want. Peter responds correctly, "This is going to be exciting enough without pretending." This adventure cannot be pretend, it must be them, themselves, not disguised as somone else. 

The same thing happens shortly afterwards. Peter suggests thinking of a stratagem to save Tumnus from the White Witch. He says, "I mean couldn't we dress up as something, or pretend to be - oh, pedlars or anything." These are unrevealing disguises. Peter has desire to be a pedlar. And here, Mr Beaver has the proper reply. No, you cannot pretend to be someone or something else. True hope, true redemption will not occur through you on your own no matter what you do - only through Aslan can you participate in the redemptive process, "No good your trying, of all people. But now that Aslan is on the move..." Peter, like Lucy earlier, was trying to hide. Redemption comes through truth. 

Several years later, future Narnian heroes do dress up in an effort to hide their true nature. It fails miserably. Shasta, Aravis, Hwin, and Bree are attempting to get safely past Tashban on their journey to Narnia and decide that Aravis, Hwin, and Bree must disguise themselves. Bree cannot be seen as a warhorse being used as a packhorse by a grubby child and Aravis, hiding from her family, certainly cannot be noticed as a royal Takheena. They go through great pains to make unrevealing disguises, ones that would hide their true nature and destiny. And the disguised almost immediately fail. Bree is instantly recognized as a warhorse, and Aravis can't make it halfway through Tashbaan without being noticed by a (not very close) friend. Of course, this works out for the best, but it shows once again, that redemption does not come about by hiding and sneakiness, it must be quested after in truth, honesty, and determination to do what is right.

This now takes us to The Last Battle, where we have a number of characters who again disguise themselves and the disastrous results. 

We will explore that in our next.  

Always Winter and Never Christmas (Part 1)

Always Winter and Never Christmas

Lucy’s first visit to Narnia almost ends in tragedy. Unbeknownst to her, the Faun Tumnus, whom she had befriended and whose house she was visiting, was covertly planning to lull her to sleep and hand her over to the queen of Narnia, the White Witch. The nefarious plan would have succeeded had Tumnus not been overcome by guilt. He repents, asks Lucy for forgiveness and explains that, though he was in the pay of the White Witch, he now understands the error of his ways. 

In the course of his confession, Tumnus attempts to convey to Lucy that his being in the pay of White Witch is indeed evil. He demonstrates her wickedness by explaining: 

Why, it is she that has got all Narnia under her thumb. It’s she that makes it always winter. Always winter and never Christmas; think of that!

As a child, this made a lot of sense to me. I knew, of course, that Christmas was a very important holiday because that was when non-Jewish children got presents (our parents told us that Santa Claus was not real, but we would never ruin the surprise for any non-Jewish children we might speak to). Due to the White Witch, the children in Narnia never got presents, and certainty it takes a singularly evil person to want to take away an opportunity to receive presents. 

Rereading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as an adult, I came to realize that Lewis probably had more in mind than presents and the like. But what is it? Why is winter without Christmas such a tragedy? Furthermore (as I am not Christian), is there a parallel to be drawn to the Jewish winter holiday, Hanukkah? 

Not surprisingly, there have been Christian pastors who have used this statement of Tumnus to demonstrate the importance of the Christmas holiday. Pastor Ray Fowler emphasized the importance of the holiday as follows:

Can you imagine what it would be like if it were always winter, never Christmas? First of all, just imagine if it were always winter. Now maybe some of you happen to love the winter, but how would you like to deal with ice and snow, sub-freezing temperatures, and having to clean and scrape your car every morning, every day? ...

So, this “always winter” thing would be bad enough. But what if it were always winter, never Christmas? That would be even worse! You know, we may not always like the ice and snow and cold, but at least when it gets cold around here, it’s a sign that Christmas is coming. And for many people, Christmas is that bright spot in the middle of winter that somehow makes it all worth it. But what if there were no Christmas? What if the Christmas season never came? Think about it – no holiday decorations, no family gatherings, no Bright Nights at Forest Park, no Christmas carols or concerts, no Christmas trees, no Christmas presents, no Christmas vacation (!), (kids, that means you would be in school all December long), no Charlie Brown Christmas specials, no Jimmy Stewart and “It’s a Wonderful Life.” It would be all winter, all the time, but never any Christmas.

The pastor notes that Winter is difficult. It is cold and icy. But at least there is Christmas to look forward to, and that makes the troubles worthwhile. 

Transitioning this thought back to Narnia, we would then understand Tumnus’ statement as follows. The White Witch has made the lives of Narnians really difficult. It is always cold and icy, but it is worse than the winters we are used to, because there is no redeeming factor. Life in Narnia is all work and no reward, no validation, and no purpose. 

This reading of Tumnus’ statement is a straightforward or grown-up extension of the naive understanding I had as a child. A child might say, were things as they should be, children who are “good” would be rewarded with presents on Christmas. The White Witch is mean because, due to her, no Narnian children receive presents. The adult version of this is that winter is “hard,” and Christmas is a reward for the toil and a purpose of the hard work. The hours of hard work, celebrated with great joy surrounded by friends and family, become worthwhile. In Narnia such reward and purpose do not exist. 

Such a situation was in fact what the Israelites of old experienced in Egypt. Our sages tell us that the Jews were forced to work meaningless, non-constructive jobs with no ultimate purpose. They were thus lacking even the ability to even take pride in their work, to congratulate themselves on a job well-done. A similar cruelty was applied by the White Witch. There was work to be done but no ultimate satisfaction. 

(Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash)

The Lamp-post: the Way to the World of Men

In our last, we asked how the White Witch knew that the door back to the 'World of Men' was past the lamp-post. The truth is, we could have asked the opposite question, why, of all possible places in the Narnian world, does the wardrobe open to the area of the lamp-post? 

But I think the answer is clear (like Michael commented on the last post). The lamp-post is the object in Narnia most belonging to our world (the World of Men), while the wardrobe is the object in our world, most belonging to Narnia. The connection between the wardrobe and Narnia is made explicit at the end of The Magician's Nephew. Digory takes the core of the apple he received from Aslan, plants it, and eventually uses the wood from the tree that grows from the core to construct a wardrobe. Lewis proves that the tree never forgot its Narnian roots by the fact that Lucy goes through the wardrobe back to Narnia.

The connection between the lamp-post and our world is just as explicit. The White Witch had ripped off part of a lamp-post in our world and, during the creation of Narnia, threw it at Aslan. The piece of lamp-post hit Aslan, fell to the ground and grew into a fully mature lamp-post. However, unlike the wardrobe, Lewis does not explicitly tell us that it retains any connection to our world. But it seems to - because when Lucy comes through the wardrobe the first thing she sees is the light of the lamp-post which she follows until she reaches the lamp-post itself. 

It seems that there is a resonance between the wardrobe and the lamp-post that between the two is the link between the worlds. Does this matter? Well, maybe, let's think about two more things and see if that helps.

1) The seed of the wardrobe was brought from Narnia to our world for the purposes of good - healing a dying woman. After that good was accomplished, the seed was honorably buried and even when the tree that grew from the seed was knocked down, it was cared for and built into something that would always be cared for. 

The seed of the lamp-post was plucked for evil, as a weapon for the White Witch. In Narnia it was used to attack an innocent being - who happened to be the creator of Narnia. It fell unceremoniously and no one took notice of it until it actually became a fully grown lamp-post. A forest grew around it (except for the small patch where it stood), and it remained, lit, apparently forgotten until a young girl from our world rediscovered it.

2) Edmund comes through the wardrobe and also sees the light. He too follows it until stepping out into an open place in the woods. But Lewis never says that Edmund saw the lamp-post! It may be that Edmund assumed the light was from the open area, but the lamp-post itself he never even notices - not at least until the White Witch points it out to him. 

I think it's worth pondering over this one and perhaps thinking of another strange light that appeared to a wandering individual on the cusp of a great redemption.    

Photo by Spencer Bergen on Unsplash

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.   

Are You a Daughter of Eve?

Why, Daughter of Eve, that's what I brought you here for.
I'm to lead you where you shall meet him...

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

The creatures of Narnia look at their foreign visitors and ask what to the creatures is the most important of questions, "Are you a daughter of Eve?" It is the first question Tumnus asks Lucy, it is the musing of Trumpkin when presented with Eustace and Jill, it is moniker Mr. Beaver gives to Susan in the above quote. And perhaps what is most confusing, the children do not realize what it means.  

Well, what does it mean? 

On its surface the question of Tumnus is simply one of species identification. Are you really that species descended from Adam and Eve who I supposed to be looking out for. Perhaps instead you are a small giant or one of the jinn? Lucy, unsure why anyone would confuse a human for anything else, is understandably not able to process the question. 

But, as we see with Tumnus, there is more to the question, though perhaps at this point himself does not realize. Are you a Daughter of Eve? A descendant of the woman who, on the one hand, brought sin to the world, but is yet, "Little less than divine. (Psalms 8:5)" Are you of the kind that tore creation asunder, but is still a creator yourself, "the mother of all life (Genesis 3:20)"? Do you understand that coming from the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve, "That is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth."

For only when you do, can you face the one God, the Divine Presence, the Creator of All.

Aslan brings the children to Narnia to get to know him, but to do that they first need to know themselves and where they come from.   

Pre-Commemorating Christmas

It looked just as if he had been doing his Christmas shopping

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Christmas, and Father Christmas, play a highly symbolic role in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Analyzing that story and its message of hope, redemption, and the wheel of fortune, will require many posts and will have to wait until next year. At present, I would like to examine the first time Christmas is mentioned in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It appears in a descriptive and almost nonchalant fashion. Yet its mere mention can teach us of the fundamental nature of redemption.

The first creature Lucy Pevensie meets when she enters the world of Narnia through the wardrobe is the faun Tumnus. Tumnus is described in great detail: his appearance, what he is wearing, and what he is holding. Curiously, the faun is holding something very unusual for fauns, known in Narnia for music and dance: several brown-paper parcels. In fact, describes Lewis, “it looked just as if he had been doing his Christmas shopping.”

This description is rather odd as, presumably, Tumnus was not doing his Christmas shopping. He later tells Lucy that the White Witch has cast a spell over Narnia making it, “Always winter, and never Christmas.” We never actually learn what is in the parcels Tumnus is holding. If so, why the gratuitous mention of Christmas? Why does Lewis describe Tumnus as shopping for a Holiday which Tumnus himself understands will never come?

Two biblical vignettes, interpreted by the Jewish Sages, may shed light on this description.

1) Two men (understood to be angels), having recently been guests at the home of Abraham, enter the evil city of Sodom with orders from God to utterly destroy it and its environs. They are met by Lot, the nephew of Abraham. Lot invites them to his home and serves them matza, the bread of affliction of which Jews are commanded to eat on the night of Passover. Our Sages teach that this was appropriate because that evening was actually (on the calendar) the night of Passover. In fact, our Sages insist that Abraham also served the men matza for the same reason. Of course, the Israelite redemption from Egypt for which Passover is celebrated would not happen for several centuries. So, why eat matza?

2) As Isaac prepares to bless his eldest son Esau before death, Rebecca insists that her younger son Jacob disguise himself as his brother in order to receive Isaac’s blessing. She commands Jacob to bring two goats so that she can prepare food for Isaac. Could Isaac really eat two goats? Why is one not enough?

Our Sages give two explanations: (1) the two goats symbolize the two goats that would eventually play a central role in the Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) ritual, (2) one goat was for the Passover sacrifice and one was for the meal. Again, the events which Passover commemorates were yet to happen. The concept of Yom Kippur as a day of repentance had not yet come to the world. How can there be symbolism or celebration of events and ideas that have yet to occur?

Certain concepts and ideas are inherent in Creation. Man must be given the opportunity to repent his sins. Redemption and the triumph of good over evil must have its time. The fact that these ideals, repentance and redemption, had not at the times of Abraham and Isaac, yet been manifest in their fullest form chronologically, is irrelevant to their celebration and commemoration. Abraham, Lot, and Rebecca, did not know of the future events which would lead to Passover and Yom Kippur, but their actions were anyway guided towards commemoration of those events because the ideals behind them are timeless.

The same is true with Tumnus the faun. Tumnus had no inkling that on that particular evening he would initiate the events that would lead to long hoped-for triumph of good over evil in Narnia. Nonetheless, the concept of redemption was already promised and was integral to the being of Narnia. Tumnus, due to his sterling character and ultimate destiny, reflects this timeless truth. Why he went shopping that particular evening is irrelevant. His actions were guided by his internal compass that told him that redemption would occur and he must prepare. In this way Tumnus could commemorate Christmas, symbolizing the Narnian redemptive process, even before it happens.

(Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash)

The Bow and the Horn

The verse states: “Moreover I (Jacob) have given to you (Joseph) one portion above your brothers, which I took out of the hand of the Amorite with my sword and with my bow” (Genesis 48:22) ... What is the meaning of “with my sword”? This refers to prayer. What is the meaning of “with my bow”? This is referring to requests. (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra 123a)

Jacob assures Joseph that he will be given as an extra inheritance land that Jacob conquered with instruments of war. The Talmud, however, reinterprets these words from weapons to prayer. Presumably, Jacob used both. Similarly, when preparing for a confrontation with his brother Esau, Jacob prepares for war, by dividing his camp into two, and prays to God. The lesson is obvious. Humans must do whatever they can to prepare for and fight incoming danger. However, they must also realize that all is in God's hands and turn to Him in prayer. 

Two of the Pevensie children receive opposing gifts from Father Christmas - but they oppose in different contexts. Peter receives a sword and shield. The sword is an offensive weapon while the shield is a tool of defense. They are opposites in the context of war. Lucy receives a dagger and a healing cordial. The dagger is to cause harm while the cordial is to remove harm. Again, the gifts are opposite but now in the greater context of human welfare. 

Then there is Susan. She receives a bow (and arrows) and a horn. The bow is to actively fight, as is Peter's sword and Lucy's dagger. What is the purpose of the horn? Well, a priori a horn could be used to arouse the troops to war. But that's explicitly not the purpose of Susan's horn. Father Christmas says, that blowing the horn will bring assistance. But presumably it is not just some regular help one would receive from a typical call. No, it must be divine help. In other words, Susan's horn is an instrument of prayer. And, like the other two, her gifts are opposites, but now the context is how to contend with the physical world. Does one work, try, and persevere, or lay back and let God take care of it? 

Susan's horn also reminds us of the ram's horn (shofar) blown every Jewish New Year (Rosh HaShana). The function of the shofar is multifaceted. Rambam states that the shofar arouses people, not to war, but to repentance. But the shofar may also function as prayer - a prayer with no words, a prayer in which we ask God to fill in what we need, because we do not actually no. 

And perhaps that is the function of Susan's horn - a vehicle of prayer without words. Therefore, Father Christmas cannot know what type of help will be received. No one can know - not even the petitioner (the one who blows the horn) can know because that is exactly the point. God Himself will fill in the blanks and send the assistance He knows is appropriate. 

This may also explain why the horn should not be blown without forethought. Of course, prayer can and should be recited every day, not only in our darkest hour. But that doesn't mean the shofar should be blown every day. Both are powerful tools but retain their power over us due to their uniqueness. 

As we have seen, the context of Susan's gifts is more global, perhaps even more theologically fundamental then the other gifts. Presumably this was not arbitrarily done, for it is Susan who grapples most with the natural versus the spiritual. 

I think we need to look at Susan's fate one more time... 

Narnian Enemies: Calormen

The introduction of Calormenes into the Chronicles of Narnia is found in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. While on the Lone Islands Edmund, Lucy, Reepicheep and Eustace were captured and put on the slave market. After some adventure, King Caspian, supported by the Lord Bern, a former friend of Caspian’s father, mounts a rescue. The slave market is closed for good and the slaves are set free. At that point two Calormene merchants approach our heroes. Lewis describes the encounter as follows:

The Calormen have dark faces and long beards. They wear flowing robes and orange-coloured turbans, and they are a wise, wealthy, courteous, cruel and ancient people. They bowed most politely to Caspian and paid him long compliments, all about the fountains of prosperity irrigating the gardens of prudence and virtue - and things like that - but of course what they wanted was the money they had paid.

These sentences paint a picture of Calormen as somewhere out of the Arabian Nights. Calormenes wear the clothes of the Middle East (and also carry scimitars rather than straight swords). They are courteous and speak with great eloquence but are really seeking something base and mundane. The fact that the Calormen currency is the crescent, cements the connection between it and the Ottoman Empire.

Yet, Lewis builds into Calormen society certain ideas which are patently at odds with a model of an Islamic Empire. First, the religion of Calormen is certainly not Islam. The chief deity of the Calormenes (though not the only one) is Tash who has four arms and the head of a vulture. The Calormenes worship idols of Tash and are said to practice human sacrifice. Tash is also regarded as the ancestor of the line of the Tisrocs (the empires of Calormen). All of which is totally at odds with Islam, a monotheistic religion which rejects idols and images of God. Why? If Lewis was seeking an Islamic enemy to Narnia, make the country fully Muslim!

I humbly suggest that the Muslim-like characteristics of Narnia's enemy is effectively a red-herring. Lewis endows Calormenes with some physical and cultural features of Muslims from the Middle Ages simply to recreate a Crusader-type defense of the Holy Land atmosphere in the Chronicles. However, the true conflict between Narnia and Calormen is not religion.

The major difference between Narnian society and Calormen society is the relationship between the common-folk and the great Lords, be they human or spiritual. In Calormen the populous is worthless in the eyes of the great leaders. Laws in Calormen are created by and for the elite. No man is allowed to stand in the presence of the Tisroc (who must be blessed upon mention of his name), and the traffic regulations in the capital city of Tashbaan are described as, “There is only one traffic regulation, which is that everyone who is less important has to get out of the way for everyone who is more important; unless you want a cut from a whip or punch from the butt end of a spear.” In Narnia, and its ally Archenland, however, “The king's under the law, for it's the law makes him a king.”

The same is true with the relationship towards the Gods. Tash seeks to conquer. He demands human sacrifice, he stretches his arms to “snatch all Narnia.” Borrowing from the description of the devil in the Screwtape Letters, Tash seeks to “draw all other beings into himself.” Aslan, of course, is the very opposite. Tash seeks human sacrifice, Aslan sacrifices himself for a human (Edmund). Tash seeks to swallow up Narnia, Aslan sends the Calormene crown-prince home to Calormen to be transformed back into a man in the Temple of Tash. Upon seeing Tash, Rishda Tarkaan falls face down to the ground. Upon seeing Aslan, Lucy’s face lights up and she runs towards him with joy.

This is the actual battle between Carlomen and Narnia. What is the purpose of the masses? To be servants whose will and very being are consumed by the elite, or to be sons who can receive blessings from He who seeks to give?

Peter's Sword and Shield

Of Magic he learned only the theory, for Doctor Cornelius said the practical part was not proper study for princes...

I was thinking of King Peter's sword... You see when it comes to the gifts Father Christmas gave the three Pevensie children, we discussed at length Susan's horn, how it serves as a wordless prayer with a guaranteed but unknown answer. Then there's Lucy cordial which magically heals. And then, there's Peter's sword and shield... which are just a normal sword and shield! 

Why?

Wouldn't we expect there to be something special or magical about them?

And then I realized that Lewis already answered the question when describing Prince Caspian's studies under his tutor Dr. Cornelius. Practical magic is improper study for princes. But why? Susan and Lucy can have magical items, but Peter cannot? 

Presumably the difference is that Peter will be the High King and he, and perhaps only he, cannot use magic. I think there are a number of possible reasons why not: 

(1) Peter's sword, despite not being magical, does garner some attention in the Chronicles of Narnia. He forgets to clean it after killing the wolf, he draws it and pronounces its name when discovering it in the ruins of Cair Paravel. But Peter's shield is kind of ignored. Maybe it shouldn't be, because the shield has upon it an image of a red lion. So red they are "as bright as ripe strawberries at the moment when you pick it." 

Hold on, strawberries? That's a strange way to describe red. I would have thought the natural (and certainly Christian) description would be red as blood, after all this is Aslan's image we're talking about here. And, in fact, when Prince Rilian's shield goes from "without device" to silver color with an image of a red lion (exactly like Peter's shield) the red is described as, "redder than blood or cherries." That makes sense... but strawberries?

Do we have strawberries elsewhere in the Chronicles? 

Of course, the answer is yes. Strawberry, the horse of the cabby who was to become King Frank, and who was renamed Fledge the father of all flying horses. Interesting, as both Peter and Strawberry came from our world, where there is no magic, were given quests in Narnia and were given no magic. What did they rely on instead of magic? They relied on the word of Aslan. 

So... where does that leave us? 

I guess we'll see next time...

The Forgotten Lamp-post (Part 2)

So I've been thinking again about the children's apparent forgetfulness of the lamp-post after spending years as rulers of Narnia. Perhaps there are a couple of ways to understand this. The easier way is to say the children lost touch with their previous lives. For anyone who has moved, especially as a child, it's sometimes hard to remember how things were after many years in the new place. Considering the Pevensie's move consisted of changing universes, how much more so their previous lives would be little more than a blur. The lamp-post was part of that life. True it was stationed in Narnia, but it's essence, not mention electricity, was our worldly. Hence it was forgotten by the Pevensie children.

Perhaps another approach is to note the following. In our last post we compared the lamp-post to the burning bush seen by Moses on Mt. Sinai. Where is Mt. Sinai? Well, it doesn't seem that anyone really knows. That's a bit strange for such an important place - a place where God, and the Heavens themselves, came down and touch our world. That it happened we know. The cosmic significance of the occurrence is undeniable, but where it is? Irrelevant. The magnitude of what happened changed the entire world so the location of the epicenter doesn't matter. 

So too with the lamp-post. The lamp-post started a chain of events which would rewrite Narnia and its world. The echoes of Lucy entering Narnia continued for hundreds of years and refocused the perspective of all nations. What difference does it make exactly where Lucy was first seen? Hence, it was forgotten.