Chronicles of Narnia--Three

C.S. Lewis on the cover of Time

          The two books in this blog post represent the worst and best (well, tied for first) books in the Chronicles of Narnia series. The first, Prince Caspian, devolves into a bunch of "swell battle scenes," to quote my favorite movie, The Stunt Man. Caspian just doesn't sustain tension and lacks the marvelous imagery that carries the other books...it moves forward the plot, but not the themes. The second book in this review, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, is absolutely marvelous. The journey takes the children through what is probably the seven deadly sins or something (I didn't look it up--didn't need to validate my reading experience in that way), having Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace experience the pitfalls of human life, and through amazingly imaginative processes. The children are growing up morally as well as physically.


All aboard, now, for



Lewis, C. S., Prince Caspian

          This book is my least favorite of the series so far. It seems somewhat irrelevant to the overall story arc and is pat and episodic. What it lacks is character development. All of the children are flat and static. In the other books, they have struggled with serious questions of identity and self-awareness—in fact, struggled with sin and redemption. Not so with Prince Caspian.

          There are cool moments. Caspian’s story could have made a wonderful book all on its own. He is raised by an uncle who has cheated him out of his inheritance—the throne of Narnia. When the uncle’s son is born, Caspian is at great risk. His wise old tutor helps him escape and tells him the truth of his heritage. He advises Caspian to flee to the Old Narnians, remnants of whom reside in the deep woods. With their support, Caspian might defeat his uncle and bring freedom to the oppressed original inhabitants of Narnia.

          The tutor also gives Caspian the ancient horn of Queen Susan, which he recovered after much searching. The horn calls forth magical aid to whoever uses it. When Caspian’s fortunes are bad in his war with uncle, he blows on the horn.

          Another charming sequence is when the four Penvensie children are pulled away from a train station platform in England and end up on a mysterious island. They have been called by the horn. The island turns out to be the ruins of their former castle, Caer Paravel, and it is fascinating to watch the children put the story together—that although it has been about a year since they were in Narnia, in Narnia hundreds or even a thousand years have passed.

On the platform at the train station, being called to Narnia

         Lucy, Eustace, and Edmund are met by one of Caspian’s representatives and go to assist in the battle. This is where the book pretty much dies on the vine (it’s tomato-growing season here). For one thing, once Aslan appears, there is no doubt about who is going to win the conflict, so the battle sequences are silly. The last third of the book is clever, but not magical. Aslan appears more as deus ex machina than as the benevolent deity (and nudger) we have come to know. I hope this book grows in stature in the overall context of the series. We’ll see…onward to The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. But first, a word from our Sidebar.

Sidebar: C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien

          Lewis was famous well before he wrote the Narnia books. He was known as an agnostic who became a believer--and wrote persuasively about the process. The text of a Time article (and for which he graced the cover) discusses this aspect of Lewis's work.

http://good-report.com/4130/c-s-lewis-time-cover-story-from-the-archive-sep-8-1947

In one of the most intriguing of literary relationships of all time, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien were colleagues and friends at Oxford. Tolkien, an engaged Catholic, strongly influenced Lewis's conversion to faith. You can see in their works the interests that they shared...allegory, metaphor, the conveyance of the ideas of Christianity in settings other than the bible (although I'm sure they distinguished between their own creativity and the bible's divinity), what brings meaning to a story and to people's lives. The fat they chewed over numerous pub pints must have been rich and flavorful. A nice article on this friendship can be found at: http://www.salon.com/2003/12/03/tolkien_lewis/

I have sat at the Tolkien/Lewis booth at the Eagle & Child in Oxford, England, and in a parallel that delighted me, my nephews repeated this pilgrimage a few years ago. Tom and Jake could sit right down with Lewis and Tolkien and join right in the discussions. Me? I'd probably be totally tongue-tied but would write about it eloquently later.

Lewis, C. S., The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

          I loved this book. Lewis is redeemed for the flaws of Prince Caspian. The ship Dawn Treader carries King Caspian (three years into his reign), Edmund, Lucy, and their cousin Eustace far to the east—to where the world ends. Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace enter through a painting of a ship and find themselves floundering in the ocean. They are picked up by the Dawn Treader. Caspian has solidified his kingdom and has undertaken a quest to find seven friends of his father who were ordered to explore to the east (by the bad uncle-king, who hoped they would die).

          The landscapes the group visits are awesome (arouse fear and wonder). On one island, a beautiful pool turns anything that touches its waters into solid gold. The children are swayed by the aura of greed arising in them. They want to protect the pool from others so they can be rich and powerful beyond their wildest dreams. Aslan intervenes and helps them to see the danger and evil of that way of thinking.

Reepicheep sailing to the very edge of east

          On another island, Eustace is turned into a dragon (dragons are the flag-bearers of greed and hoarding). Eustace has been judgmental, priggish, not really a good team player. His dragon experience is transformative of his inner as well as his outer self. Aslan assists him in shedding his outer skins of greed, self-interest, cowardice, sloth. This process is sad and beautiful.

          On yet another island, three of the old campaigners are in a permanent sleep. To wake them, the travelers must go to the very end, the very east, and they must leave someone behind there to break the spell. The sailing to the east is beautifully portrayed. The waters change, the light changes, and in drinking the water the people change. Eventually, the waters are covered with white water lilies (which would be mistaken for snow from above). Reepicheep the valiant rat volunteers to go all the way east, even if it means his death. It is a sad and beautiful moment. He is left behind.

          In Prince Caspian, Aslan tells Peter and Susan that they will not return to Narnia—they have gotten too old. In Dawn Treader, he tells Edmund and Lucy the same thing. He promises to always be with them, but in a different form and in a different name (Jesus/god, I presume). But, it’s lovely.

Lucy interprets the mysterious book in Dawn Treader

          And it makes a case for fantastical literature as a provider of images that children can relate to as a sort of transitional stage between faith in the warm and fuzzy and faith in a god or principle. It’s a very gentle thing, as are these books, dramatic as they may be.

          I do think that this book, in itself, does fulfill the criteria for a hero journey--certainly the children are greatly changed by their experiences and journey through numerous perils and places. And, I had the sense that I, too, had changed. My heart had grown along with my understanding.

          Lewis’s imagination is fully expressed in this book. All of his themes are there—redemption, forgiveness, love, courage, humility—the whole gamut. But the landscapes and locales described are fantastic and fantastical. I yearn to see them myself! The images are lyrical, odd, precious, and amazing.

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien

Tolkien's Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is the third book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy and the fourth of the books set in Middle Earth.

Once again, I was drawn into Middle Earth as if it were a real place, one that is now part of my personal and historical past. It is as compelling as Camelot or Shangri-la, and other "lost time" fantasies. And much more.

There is such a gritty reality to the Rings trilogy. Nothing is clean in this book--all are tainted by the bitter fumes of the dark lord. Light is fading in almost every regard: the sky is darkening; people move through foul caves and tunnels; people subsume their identities in disguises; in this book, all are moving toward the final war against the Eye. Frodo can no longer see the Shire, can no longer remember the taste of bread or the smell of new-mown grass in the fields.

The lost city of Shangri-la

Frodo and Sam face gruesome, soul-wrenching ordeals as they stagger toward Mordor bearing the weight of the ring--Shelob the spider, orcs, the creature Gollum, Nazgul, heat,  starvation, molten rock, and the utter hopelessness of their quest. Pippen waits with Gandalf at the doomed city of Gondor, watching insanity spread as the enemy gathers its forces. Merry rides with the Rohirrim, but disguised and in secret with Eowyn, riding toward war and certain doom. All of his friends are fighting. He must fight for them. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas take the pathways of the dead…Aragorn’s faith in himself is tested; he is royal or he is dead. And, if the dead do not follow him, the war against evil is lost.

The most moving part of the book, to me, comes after the battle of Peleanor, when it is clear that the titanic battle that was a grueling victory for the West was a mere skirmish for the Eye. His forces are vast and he will defeat the good, if battle is the method of attack. The forces gather in council. Should they strengthen defenses and die in a few months, or ride out to the attack now and die quickly, Aragorn asks. In this state of hopelessness, the council decides to have faith in Frodo and Sam. If men will be wiped out, they will be wiped out creating a distraction that takes the Eye away from Frodo and the ring, which are secretly in Sauron's very stronghold. Aragorn's men agree to sacrifice their own lives for the future of all. This is a decision of great beauty.

An image of Camelot

This book was full of fear and battle, wounding and battle. The way Tolkien sets up the victory at Pelannor and then snatches it away made the doom so much more real. I felt a glissando of sheer terror at that moment, horror and loss. And I felt all the more resolute when Aragorn led his army into action and into certain death. I was right with them.

Yes, the Rings books are more in the endless procession of guy-bonding books that so fill the fantasy and science fiction genre. In this book, Eowyn is the only woman who has any role whatsoever--but her character is fully developed--more so even than in the movie. She channels her heartbreak over Aragorn’s dismissal of her love into valor. And her role is essential to the victory—her killing of King Angmar of the Dark Riders is marvelous symbolism and drama. And then she gets a wonderful gentle romance with Faramir in the Houses of Healing. I loved that. She must come into her true power before love can enter her life.

Middle Earth

But the Halflings are the true heroes of the story. Their courage, loyalty, wit, and charm are terrific. They are more fully developed for me now that I have such a familiarity with both the movies and books. They show that danger, fear, hunger (and the unknown in general) only strengthen the pure in heart. In fact, that is the hero journey for most of the principal characters--good and bad. How will you respond when the rug is jerked out from under your life, when the feces hits the fan, when you are truly and utterly lost? What will guide you through the dark? What is your light of Elendial? The characters of these books will show you many different strategies for coping. And they demonstrate courage over and over.

I had to include at least one photo of Viggo Mortensen as
Aragorn, the returned king of the title.

I highly recommend Tolkien for junior high school age and up. They are truly beautiful and rich. However, not everyone can read fantasy, so you don't "have" to read them and you don't "have" to see the movies. But, please, at least once, give them a try.

As soon as I finished reading the Tolkien titles on my list, I started reading books by Mark Twain. Switching over to Tom Sawyer has given me mental whiplash. I switched from the sound of ancient sagas being told by candlelight to Twain’s tall-tale-teller voice. I can almost hear him chuckling at his own wry jokes. Still, Tom Sawyer is also a quest story, and holds up well in that genre in its own way. Frodo bearing the ring and Tom bearing the pansy…hmmm.


There's some weird stuff out there. For sermons and essays on LOTR, try:
www.sermoncentral.com/sermons/the-lord-of-the-rings-sermon-series...

http://www.gradesaver.com/the-lord-of-the-rings-the-fellowship-of-the-ring/study-guide/

The Silver Branch and The Lantern Bearers, by Rosemary Sutcliff

The Silver Branch and The Lantern Bearers continue the story of The Eagle of the Ninth. The heroes of each book trace their lineage back to Marcus of that book. Neither Branch nor Lantern matches the beauty or richness of character development in Eagle, but they are wonderful historical romances taking place in an intriguing setting that is both familiar (if you've been to England) and strange. The Roman seaport of Rutupiae figures in all three of the books and is a weighty symbol of the Romans in Britain in the 600 years or so around the birth of Jesus. (In fact, Christianity is portrayed as a novelty in these two books--and not at all in the first one, which took place prior to the birth of Jesus.)

Rutupiae, at present-day Richborough on the English Channel (nearish to Dover) was a major defensive stronghold and also received and sent out news, goods, and people from elsewhere in the world. "Britain" at this time was under attack from Saxons and Jutes from across the channel and from Picts and other tribes from north of the great Roman construction called Hadrian's Wall. Its borders correspond for the most part with modern England.

The Silver Branch told the story of Aquila, a young doctor in the Roman Legion, and his arrival at Rutupiae to serve in Britain. In a bit too much of a coincidence, the first person he meets in Britain is a relative who becomes his best friend, Flavius. Flavius is from Britain; the farm where he lives is the one established by (his grandfather?) Marcus Aquila in The Eagle of the Ninth. The two young men accidentally become aware of a threat to the British Emperor's reign. The Emperor's agenda is to establish Britain as a nation able to defend its own borders and hold its own place in the world even without the fall of Rome. Rome is seen as insecure as a protector.

Aquila and Flavius become outlaws, spies, counter-terrorists, and leaders of the resistance movemnt when the Emperor is killed. At their darkest time, when inspiration is needed the most, they find the Eagle of the Ninth, which had been hidden away until it was needed again. The Eagle becomes their rallying point through battle and hardship as they struggle to survive until the Romans return to restore order.
[For information on the Roman defense of Britain, discussed extensively in Rosemary Sutcliff's books, go to http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/primaryhistory/romans/defence_of_britain ]

The Lantern Bearers is a few generations further removed from Eagle of the Ninth. A young Roman soldier from Britain is forced to chose between the life he always dreamed of--rising through the ranks to command a legion--and defending his home. The book takes place at the time when the Roman army was abruptly removed from Britain, allowing all the various factions Rome had been controlling to battle it out among themselves. The light at Rutupiae represents the feeble light remaining in Britain when the Romans are gone. Aquila (yes, another Aquila) chooses to work for that faint light.

Aquila survives his family's slaughter by Saxons (the family farm is torn apart) only to be sold to a Jute as a slave. He is taken across the channel and works for the family for several years. No affection grows between them. (Sutcliff is pretty clear-eyed about slavery.) Aquila is both sustained and eaten up inside by the knowledge that his sister is also, somewhere, a slave.


This is a drawing of the Roman fortress of Rutupiae--note the signal light tower
dominating the other structures. Otherwise, this is a fairly typical layout for a
Roman fortress and its associated town outside the fort's walls.

When Aquila escapes, he finds that his sister is lost to him. In bitterness, he takes his skills as a soldier and offers them to the British king--also the remaining representative of Rome and all things Roman in Britain. This book seems to move somewhat underwater as Aquila moves from battle to battle. The British king prevails, but his rule is seen as fragile. The king's protege (not Aquila) is hinted to be the coming King Arthur, but this is not developed.

Aquila is difficult to like. He carries his hurts as a stronger armor than his steel breast plate. His relationships are cold and unsatisfying and the reader can see the hurt in the people around him. And, given his history, that makes sense. But it doesn't make easy fiction. In the end, Aquila sees that there has been a shape to his life. He has not restored Britain, but he has born the lantern through dark times--in fact, he lit that light.

One of Sutcliff's strengths is the variety of secondary characters she develops. Especially poignant is a servant who binds himself to the heroes of Silver Branch. He carries and plays an instrument from olden times, a tree branch of silver hung with bells. The silver branch represents the ancient life of Britain as the eagle represents the order and discipline of Rome. The new Britain must hold onto both. In such a world of upheaval and danger, Sutcliff''s sacred objects provide a deep continuity of history, character, and family.

The Picts, forerunners of the Scots, are represented by a hunter who helps Aquila and Flavius escape in Silver Branch. He joins up with them and is pivotal in their final battle. I get the feeling that Sutcliff may deal ably with the Picts in another book. [For information about the Picts [ancient Scots], go to http://halfmoon.tripod.com/.]

These are good books. I'm delighted to have discovered Sutcliff, who works with many of the themes of other mid-20th century writers, such as Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. I wonder if she figured in the magical cross-pollination of imagination that occurred at that time. Her Britain is very much a Middle Earth, a Narnia, but one that is viscerally connected with us, one that is physically present and whose artifacts can still be seen and touched. [For images of the Roman ruins of Rutupiae, at present-day Richborough, go to Google Images and type "Roman Richborough" in the search line.]