Stories Retold

In our previous post we discussed stories that could be attached to the Chronicles of Narnia. The easiest part is to identify stories to be added, in fact, Lewis himself identified several such stories and there are certainly sufficient characters and events that could be fleshed out into full length stories. The more difficult part would be writing the story in a way that would reflect Lewis. While any given individual will have their own style and approach, there are certain key elements that characterize the Chronicles that should also undergird the addition. 

If such is true when conceiving a story of the Chronicles, how much more so should it be when retelling a story. Now, of course, a retelling does not have to be a retelling. It could, for example, be satire or parody like Puffs and Spaceballs. But then everyone knows what the point is. Where harm might be done is when a retelling is advertised as a retelling but its key elements are diluted, changed, or undermined. 

What are the key elements in a piece of literature? Well, that is also going to be subject to debate. One may argue that everything is a key element. In a previous post I (not too seriously) suggested that the color of Lucy's hair could be important in demonstrating her dedication to Aslan. She is described as golden-haired similar to Aslan's golden mane. On the opposite end of the spectrum, one might argue that only the overall plot is key. Hence, as long as the Magician's Nephew, for example, has a Magician with a nephew, some other worlds, and so on that's good enough. After all, look at I Robot where names are the same, but the storyline is not related at all. 

I would argue more along the lines of the first possibility. A proper retelling should convey the ethics, themes, lessons, and morals of the original. Preferably, the setting and storyline should be the same too, and, to really do a good job, as much as possible should be kept. So, how can we assess the retelling of The Magician's Nephew. 

1) Obviously, the most controversial issue so far is the casting of a woman as the voice of Aslan. This is clearly a slap in the face to Christianity and should be abhorred by all. I should also say that any comment that the way Aslan looks is inspired by a flesh and blood human being is, to me as a Jew, blasphemous. I do not think this is quite as much of an attack on Christianity since for Christians God became a man. So maybe someone's looks can be inspired by Jesus' looks. However, we do not have a portrait or photograph of Jesus so there is the very real question as to whose looks should inspire the Jesus-like figure in Narnia. There are, of course, great people who might serve that purpose, none of whom were chosen. 

2) The time period. I'm not too upset about this because God tells His story to all people in every generation. However, it does set up some questions of historical relevance.

We'll continue this next time... 

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...

Why Doesn't Susan Keep the Horn?

This is probably repetitive but nevertheless let's take a look at the question of Susan's horn from another perspective. 

Why does Susan not take back the horn when offered by Caspian? An easy answer would be that it doesn't work outside of Narnia. There seems to be some wisdom in that given that The White Witch's magic doesn't work in our world either (though it does work in Narnia - begging the question why magic seems to work in other worlds but not ours).   

But perhaps the real reason is that Susan realizes she doesn't need it. The horn brought Susan and her siblings to Narnia. They were the help that Aslan sent to the war-torn, beleaguered Narnians at their moment of desperation. If Susan were to blow the horn in our world - wouldn't it just call Susan? Obviously, that would be worthless. But it also suggests that Susan should be able to solve her own problems. She should be the one to bring her own salvation.

Now that's quite a statement - one should always pray to God and plead with Him for salvation. And God gets to choose His method of helping us. I trust everyone knows the joke of the person standing on a rooftop with rising floodwaters and refusing the assistance of a boat and helicopter because he's sure that God will save him. OK, so we need a balance - on the one hand we have to take responsibility for ourselves, on the other we cannot insist that "My power and the strength of my hand" (Deuteronomy 8:17) will bring about salvation. 

So, what should Susan do? The horn symbolizes God's help, but God's help is her. Keeping it may cause her to haughty and think that she is the source of salvation. So, she gives it away - enabling her to concentrate of God's salvation, but still with the realization that she can be God's messenger is bringing help to others. 

We know what happened to Susan. She is overcome with the vanity of the world and gives up her status in Narnia. But perhaps this is part of her salvation and that of others. Peter, Edmund, Lucy and the rest, never tell their story to anyone. No one is inspired by them, no one seeks to follow their path. One day the horn will blow calling Susan to return to God, to once again be His messenger. She will hear the call, and she will come - but when she does, she will bring crowds with her. 

All sorts of people will hear her story of youthful passion in God, the teenage cooling off as she substituted the spiritual for a physical focus, and finally enlightenment that only God is worth the time and effort.  They will resonate with HER story in a way they never could with the story of Lucy and Peter. 

Once and Queen of Narnia always a Queen of Narnia. Queen Susan of the Horn will always be the source of 'magical' help and salvation for others. 

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... 

The Lamp-post and the Burning Bush (Part 2)

There's one more point I wanted to raise with respect to the lamp-post (for now). In fact, it's another parallel to Moses. At the Passover seder (the multistep ritual of the first night(s) of Passover), we say, "In every generation our enemies seek to destroy us. And the Holy One, Blessed be He, saves us from their hands." The truth of this statement is beyond doubt, and even over the past week we have seen God's hand through the brave men and women of the Israeli and United States military. Lewis references this towards the end of The Silver Chair (as discussed here). 

The last phrase of this statement, however, has been cleverly interpreted. "From their hands," does not just mean that God saves us from the enemy's evil plans, but that the salvation comes from the enemies themselves. Thus, it is not simply that God saved the Children of Israel from the Egyptians, but that God's emissary was Moses who was raised by the Pharoah himself. It is the hand of Pharoah that unleashed the salvation.

The Narnian lamp-post was planted, albeit unknowingly, by the White Witch. It stood for generations, a relic of an evil that had entered the world, a sign that evil may materialize but that the light of goodness would continue to shine. Generations passed, the evil did not materialize and the lesson of the lamp-post was forgotten. Then one day, the evil reared its head, but no one paid any attention to the lamp-post, until a young girl stopped and wondered. Why would you plant a lamp-post in the middle of the wood, in a place of darkness? 

The answer (though unknown to her at the time) came immediately, "a very strange person stepped out from among the trees into the light of the lamp-post." The light of the lamp-post wasn't useless, it enabled Lucy to recognize the faun Tumnus, to make a friend, eventually to save Narnia. That same lamp-post, planted in Narnia as a weapon used to kill Aslan, was eventually overcome at the hands of a young girl who used the lamp-post to find a friend. From the hands of the White Witch there arose salvation. 

Actually, writing this got me thinking about the following contrast. The stone knife was used to kill Aslan and was brought to the island of Ramandu to rest in honor. The lamp-post was used in an attempt to kill Aslan, but it stayed in Narnia. Why?

I guess we need another post on this... 

Photo by Sarah Sheedy on Unsplash

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.  

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

The Forgotten Lamp-post

 

The lamp-post unknowingly planted by the White Witch seems pretty well known to the creatures of Narnia. Mr. Tumnus tells Lucy that the boundaries of Narnia are from the lamp-post to Cair Paravel. At the end of  "The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe" we are told that the area around the lamp-post became known as the Lantern Waste. So how could it be that the children, as they grew up in Narnia, forgot about the lamp-post? It would seem almost unnatural to forget such a clear landmark!

I actually don't have a good answer for this one. But I had to ask the question before going on to considering our two final points in the previous post. 

Photo by Naoki Suzuki 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 Lamp-post: the Way to the World of Men?

Edmund's first visit to Narnia is, as we know, when he becomes entrapped by the promises and delights of the White Witch. Though, by the end of their meeting, Edmund is ready to follow the Witch anywhere, she insists that he go back and bring his brother and sisters. Edmund claims not to know the way back, to which the Witch replies:

"That's easy," answered the Queen. "Do you see that lamp?" She pointed with her wand and Edmund turned and saw the same lamp-post under which Lucy had met the Faun. "Straight on, beyond that, is the way to the World of Men..." 

It is not stated that Edmund ever noticed the lamp-post and he certainly said nothing about it to the White Witch. Neither Lucy nor Tumnus had spoken to the Witch at this point, so how does the Witch know the way to the World of Men? 

How is it so easy? 

Photo by Spencer Bergen on Unsplash

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.   

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. 

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.  

The Air of Narnia

"The Narnian air was bringing back to him a strength he had won when he sailed the Eastern Seas with King Caspian..." 

The Silver Chair

The concept of having a place dedicated for certain tasks finds itself in many areas of life. Indeed, it may even spark the modern debate of returning to the office. But the concept of hallowed ground, made sacred by our own actions or those of our ancestors, finds its source at the beginning of Jewish religious consciousness. The Talmud praises one who has a set place for prayer (Brachot 6b), "Rabbi Ḥelbo said in the name of Rav Huna: One who sets a fixed place for his prayer, the God of Abraham assists him," and goes on to assert that Abraham himself did the same. Pray in a place once, and you have prayed. Continue praying in the same place, and the place becomes a place a prayer: a place that helps you pray and where God himself comes to listen. In fact, King Solomon requested that the Temple serve as this place (1 Kings 8:29), "May Your eyes be open day and night toward this House, toward the place of which You have said, ‘My name shall abide there’; may You heed the prayers that Your servant will offer toward this place." 

Upon Eustace's return to Narnia in the Silver Chair he demonstrates strength and a sense of adventure that Jill did not expect from her schoolmate. Lewis attributes this to the Narnian air restoring to him the strength he had won decades ago (Narnian) during his adventures on the Dawn Treader. Lewis notes the same phenomenon with respect to Edmund and to Jill herself upon their second returns. Concerning Edmund, Lewis writes, "The air of Narnia had been working upon him ever since they arrived on the island, and all his old battles came back to him, and his arms and fingers remembered their old skill." 

There are two complementary ways this occurs. First, a return to a place makes it appropriate for actions that have already occurred there. When I sit in my place in the synagogue, I will naturally default to the right mindset for prayer. Second, the place itself returns to me a capability. I always pray here and thus, even if I'm not in the appropriate frame of mind, the place itself gives grants me the ability to pray. 

So too with Narnia. When Eustace, Edmund, and Jill return to Narnia they are naturally poised for adventure including the skills and hardships it comes with. Eustace's alertness, Edmund's swordplay, and Jill's stealth may have been aroused elsewhere, but in Narnia it emerges on its own. 

But even more, Narnia itself lends itself to such positive traits. Lewis makes this point via the observations of Tirian when considering Eustace and Jill, "in fact they both seemed to be already much stronger and bigger and more grown-up than they had been when he first met them a few hours ago. It is one of the effects which Narnian air often has on visitors from our world." 

Why, or how, does Narnia do this? No doubt it is due to the actions of the Narnian Lords and her other heroes who define Narnia's character. If Narnia is a place of bravery and strength, it is due to Peter the Magnificent. If it is a place of justice and righteousness, it is due to Edmund the Just. And if is a place of valiance and complete faithfulness, it is due to Lucy the Valiant. So, when Eustace and Jill (or anyone else) leave our world, one also resplendent with heroes, but also too much with the opposite, and enter Narnia these characteristics will emerge. 

There is another possible explanation specifically tied to the fact that visitors to Narnia are almost always children. Perhaps Lewis is making the following point. For better or for worse, our world keeps children as children. The Pevensies enter Narnia to insurrection, weapons, and war. Eustace is forced to join a quest of historic magnitude. Jill to responsibilities of the greatest importance. Are our children ready for that? Would we send our preteens on winter searches with a marshwiggle as a guide? Would we entrust even our young adults with national responsibility?

Children in Narnia are stronger, bigger, and more grown up because they are allowed to be just that. And that is Lewis' goal with the Chronicles of Narnia. They are children's tales with the express goal of doing something more - inculcating moral and divine truths. When our children enter Narnia, they are asked to become something even better than bigger and stronger, they are asked to be moral, truthful, and dedicated to God. 

The Stone Knife

Lucy now noticed something lying lengthwise on the table which had escaped her attention before. It was a knife of stone, sharp as steel, a cruel-looking, ancient looking thing.

(The Voyage of the Dawn Treader)

Aslan's Table has not just food as a reward for those who have come so far, but also a knife of stone, not to touched, and later revealed to the very knife that the White Witch used to kill Aslan. It is found there to be kept in honor while the world lasts.

That the tool of Aslan's death should be honored by Narnia should not be surprising from the Christian perspective. After all the tool of Jesus' death, the cross of his crucifixion, is perhaps the most prominent of all Christian symbols. What is surprising is that it is brought to this island and not kept in honor in Narnia or elsewhere. It is so remote that we hear of this knife only when used by the White Witch and in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Why is it on Aslan's Table?

Perhaps there are a couple of possible approaches to this. The first is that the knife was placed there as a test. The heroic art of Navigation should be, like the study of the bible and the giving of charity, a means of cleansing the soul. A way of improving the character of those who engage in its depths. But what if it is not? What if the study of Navigation was performed simply for material gain, like on the island of Deathwater rather than as a means of exploring God's world and uplifting humanity? 

Then, upon reaching the island, one may take the knife and use it upon his fellows. How could one of noble character strike out his fellow shipmates and adventurers? Only if his quests were motivated by ignobility. That is what happened to the three lords, and as punishment they were cursed to navigate no more.

A second approach may be that the Knife is on Aslan's Table as a reminder. That sometimes, sacrifice will accompany or even be a requisite to ultimate victory. Aslan was about to achieve all he hoped for in Narnia. The White Witch was to be defeated. Human rulers were to ascend the throne of Narnia once more. The Winter had turned into Spring and Narnia was ready to fulfill the mission Aslan had set for it from the very beginning. But at that moment, with the final victory at hand, Aslan sacrificed himself. 

So too with our enterprising navigator. He has been victorious! He has reached the beginning of the end of the world, there is nothing beyond but calm seas and smooth sailing. Even here, at the home base, there is everything to meet one's physical desires. But at this moment of triumph, our navigator must remember the sacrifices that went into his quest. Perhaps it was the sacrifice of children left behind without a father, of a lover forced to say goodbye, or a community left without their leader. 

The presence of the Stone Knife commands: remember their sacrifice and your own and make the choice of where to go next. 

Aslan's Table

"Why is it called Aslan's table?" asked Lucy presently.

"It is set here by his bidding," said the girl, "for those who come so far...."

(The Voyage of the Dawn Treader)

As told to us in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Aslan established a beautiful oasis on an island in the middle of the Easter Sea. On that island, attended to by a retired star, is a magnificent feast, unlike any found even amongst the wealthiest of kings. Furthermore, the feast is renewed every day such that, in theory, one can spend however much time they wanted there and never lack for food. 

Furthermore, the knife the White Witch used to kill Aslan is placed on the table with the feast. We are told that it was brought there to be kept in honor. 

The entire scene raises a number of questions. First, it appears that Alsan is presenting a reward for those who have managed to sail that far east. Is simply sailing east a worthwhile endeavor that it should be rewarded? Is the physical prowess and capability deserving of reward? This all seems based on physical strength not spiritual yearning or growth. Or is there some positive attitude or motivation that would lead someone to that island?

Second, what is the point of the feast. Is it a reward, as in good job, time to turn around? Is it a taste of what is to come and an encouragement to keep going? Or is it a place to stop and live out the rest of one's life there?

Third, what is the goal of having a star administer the island? Is that what stars usually do (actually, given Coriaken maybe yes). 

Finally, why is the Stone Knife brought there of all places. Why not keep it in Narnia where it can be revered and actively honored by many?

I realize we're in the middle of a bunch of things - hopefully we'll get back to all of them. But these are some of the questions I've been thinking of recently.  

Kind Actions Cause Cruel Ones

In out last post we started analyzing the statement of Raish Lakish in Ecclesiastes Rabbah, "Anyone who becomes merciful in place of cruel, will at the end, become cruel in the place of merciful." (Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:16). There we asserted that this was due to cause and effect: by having mercy on those who are cruel, for example exempting them from any punishment for their crimes, will only enable them to commit further acts of cruelty. If not by the grace of Aslan, the discussions between Lucy, Edmond, and King Lune regarding Prince Rabadash, would have indeed brought about such as a circumstance. 

Our Sages, however, go one step further. It is not simply that displaced mercy for evildoers will enable the evildoer to perform more acts of cruelty. No! The person who invokes inappropriate mercy will themselves act with unwarranted cruelty. As proof the midrash references the actions of King Saul. King Saul had been commanded by God to wipe out the Amalekites. Much to God's chagrin, Saul had mercy on their king (1 Samuel 15:9). However, Saul did completely wipe out the priestly city of Nob (1 Samuel 22:19) who did nothing but support David assuming David was operating at Saul's command. 

Similarly with Ahab, who, as we mentioned a couple of posts ago, was merciful with ben-Haddad the king of Aram who had previously ordered Ahab to give him his wives and children (1 Kings 20:34). Nevertheless, when Ahab desired the vineyard a Naboth's, his wife Jezebel arranged for Naboth to be falsely accused of a capital offense and he received the death penalty (1 Kings 21:13). 

The commentaries on the midrash attempt to understand why it is that displaced mercy should lead someone to act cruelly. After all, shouldn't the exact opposite be true? If one shows mercy even when they should not, they will certainly show mercy when they should?

The general approach taken is to simply say that mercy or not mercy is not the true issue. What is actually being discussed is fidelity to the words of God. Saul's unwillingness to listen to God with respect to Amalek demonstrates that there are no circumstances that he can be trusted to listen to God. Sometimes that lack of adherence will manifest in undue mercy, and sometimes in undue cruelty. But what is central is that God's commands should come first.

I actually think our Sages mean something deeper. I think we can fairly assume that people do not typically see themselves as being cruel. So how can anyone allow a dangerous or violent criminal get away with their crimes? Is it not obvious that such people will then harm others? The answer is straightforward. Those who free the criminal believe that either the pain and suffering by those future victims is unimportant or that the victims of the criminal's future violence deserve the pain and suffering. There is no other way to justify how a normal supposedly moral person can justify such actions. 

Now we see how mercy to the undeserved will make that person cruel to the innocent. There is no way around it. The undue mercy presupposes a lack of mercy for others.  Saul's undue mercy for Amalek had to assume cruelty to the future victims of Amalek's frequent attacks on innocent outposts. And so, when one of those outposts did make a mistake, he could not be merciful. 

This the trap that King Lune almost fell into. Undue mercy for Rabadash pre-supposes cruelty to the innocent of Archenland who would be Rabadash's next victims. Aslan had to appear and stop the kind king from going too far and bringing ruin on himself and all of Archenland. 

Kindness Leading to Cruelty

Raish Lakish said, "Anyone who becomes merciful in place of cruel, will at the end, become cruel in the place of merciful." (Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:16)

Taking this statement of our Sages as stated we can see how it may be applied to Ahab's willingness to free ben-Haddad the king of Aram. When a villain is left unpunished, while perhaps it seems merciful, ultimately, far more cruelty will arise. Criminals let go without consequences will continue to criminalize. There may be a feel-good moment for the prosecutor or judge, that does not change the harm done to the next innocent victim. The judge of prosecutor is cruel to the innocent and will be recognized as cruel by anyone who values ethics and morals.  

Ahab may have felt he was being merciful, but ben-Haddad was not deserving of such mercy and instead caused unimagined harm to the innocent citizens of Israel. 

And the same is true of what King Lune almost did. In their discussion of what to do with Rabadash after he was taken prisoner Lucy offers, "Let him go freon strait promise of fair dealing in the future. It may be that he will keep his word." Of course that sounds a bit risky, because what if he doesn't. What if, after being humiliated by Archenland and Narnia he decides the best thing would be revenge. That seems like a much greater probability. 

Edmund realizes this but counters the thought with, ""But, by the Lion, if he breaks it again, may it be in such time and place that any of us could swap off his head in clean battle." Well, maybe, but maybe not. And what about all of the innocent people that might die in the battle in the meantime? 

Finally, King Lune calls Rabadash in and is about to provide an ultimatum presumably based on Lucy's suggestion. However, in doing so I think he makes things worse. "Nevertheless, in consideration of your youth and the ill nurture, devoid of all gentilesse and courtesy, which you have doubtless had in the land of slaves and tyrants, we are disposed to set you free, unharmed, on these conditions..."

Hold on a second! OK, we're blaming Rabadash's like of honor and civility on his nurturing, fair enough. But now you're just going to let him free with no punishment on condition that he'll be honest? You're going to send him back to the place where he had all that horrible nurturing and expect him to turn over a new leaf? At least keep him around for a while to teach him how to be honorable! 

I really think that all three of these protagonists have it wrong. They are applying mercy when they should not, risking great cruelty which is unlikely to fall on them.  

Fortunately for all concerned Aslan rescues them from this morally rotten though process. He punishes Rabadash and forces him to face consequences by transforming him into an ass. However, the transformation is not permanent. As Aslan puts it, "Justice shall be mixed with mercy." And Aslan gets it right. Without justice there is no mercy - there is simply chaos. King Lune's "mercy" already caused great harm to his own family and was about to endanger all of Archenland. Aslan's lesson of justice first is the necessary response. 

However, despite all of the above, our Sages have another explanation for, "Anyone who becomes merciful in place of cruel, will at the end, become cruel in the place of merciful." Which we will get to in our 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. 

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...