Reviewing - The Chronicles of Narnia
Literally all of these are great except for the one that sucked.
The Best: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
The Worst: The Horse and His Boy
Most people I've talked to have read "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe". It's the Narnia story. As a kid, I had the entire collection, but I never actually got around to reading the entire thing. Recently I decided to finally give this series a start-to-finish read-through, and I'm happy to report that it was definitely worth it (with the exception of just one book). Here's what I thought.
The Magician’s Nephew
I’d read this book at least once as a child, but when I decided to read through the whole series more recently, I was surprised by how ‘for kids’ it was. It’s probably because I had just come off of the entire Lord of the Rings series, where the tone is far more serious. In my memory, the White Witch was a wicked warmongering woman without weakness – if you’ll forgive the alliteration – but here, she wasn’t quite like that. She was still evil, through and through, but she was more like an ‘Evil Emperor Zurg’ than a ‘Darth Vader’. She was simply a villain trying to take over the world – not a complex character with subdued motivations and secret master plans. That said, there are two scenes where I feel she really shines – when we first find her in Charn, and when she tempts Digory just outside of the garden. There, she’s much more than just a children’s novel villain.
The best part of this book is undeniably the creation of Narnia. It was interesting to see how Aslan sang Narnia into existence, very similar to the god Eru from the Silmarillion. Knowing that Lewis and Tolkien were friends who read each other’s stories, I wonder how much of The Magician’s Nephew is a result of cross-pollination. This book also features ‘rings of power’, which should ring a few bells to even the most inexperienced fantasy reader. I really liked the ‘attic’ scenes early on in the novel too. Lewis really has a way of making things feel magical, and attics in general are magical places to begin with.
One bit that I found particularly interesting was Jadis’ “Deplorable Word” – a magic word that would literally kill everybody if it was spoken. At one point, Aslan says to the main kids in the story,
“It is not certain that some wicked one of your race will not find out a secret as evil as the Deplorable Word and use it to destroy all living things. And soon, very soon, before you are an old man and an old woman, great nations of your world will be ruled by tyrants who care no more for joy and justice and mercy than the Empress Jadis. Let your world beware.”
I think it’s pretty clear Lewis is talking about nukes here. It’s interesting that a nuclear war isn’t as much of a constant fear now as it may have been back then, but in 1955 when he published this, it would have been only 10 years since the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and they would have been in the midst of the Cold War. It’s not surprising that this would have been a subject at the forefront of his mind.
Although I liked this book, it did at times feel more like a prologue than an independent story of its own. Fortunately, the next book is obviously the most well-known, so I’m in for a treat next.
The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
This is obviously the one that everyone knows about, and it’s not without reason. This is a wonderful story. The imagery packed into these pages is just beautiful – a lone lamppost in a snow-covered wood, an enchanted wardrobe in a mysterious unused room, a sinister queen of eternal winter, and a golden-haired lion all work together to make this a thoroughly charming book. I had read this story multiple times as a child and was delighted to return to the matter-of-fact advice that Lewis provides in his book, like “It is very foolish to shut oneself into any wardrobe”. Main characters aside, the minor players are all fun as well even if they don’t stick around for long. Tumnus is pleasant, the Beavers are adorable, and Father Christmas carries a powerful presence despite only being there for a few precious pages. This book is short and sweet – and there’s something to enjoy on nearly every page.
The Christian symbolism in this book can’t be ignored. There’s so much to pick apart in this area that it’s hard for me to even decide what to focus on. Obviously Aslan is a stand-in for Jesus, as he willingly hands himself over to be executed in order to save the life of someone who doesn’t deserve it. I think making him a lion was a great decision on many levels – yes, the Bible compares God to a lion many times, but also in terms of public perception, the lion is a noble and powerful creature. It may not be the ‘king of the jungle’ in real life, but in the minds of the masses, the lion is one of the best and coolest animals out there. Aslan’s resurrection and the cracking of the Stone Table also shadows Jesus’ own comeback and the tearing of the temple veil. You could also look at it as a way of saying that Aslan/Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice. The White Witch seems to indicate in the book that the Stone Table is where these sorts of executions and sacrifices take place – but when Aslan dies, the Table cracks, signifying that the era of sacrifices is over because the sacrifice of Aslan was so great. I love that!
Growing up in a family of four siblings spaced apart just like the Pevensie children (there’s me, Elaina, Joel, and Dreanna), this book (and the 2005 film adaptation) has always held a special place in my heart. Seeing the siblings overcome their individual struggles and work together is so much fun, and I doubt I’ll ever be too old to crack open the cover one more time. If you haven’t read this yet, get your hands on a copy because this is a fun, layered, whimsical, and magical book. And it’s short! You’ll fly through it anyway!
The Horse And His Boy
As I read through this book, I realized that I had tried to get through it as a kid and had given up about halfway through. I don’t blame my younger self for doing so – the middle of this book is a bit of a slog. There are long chapters where our protagonists listen silently to grown-ups talking about things in a very grown-up way. It definitely felt like the language was more complex than it had been in the last two books, and even as an adult I found myself losing track of the conversation at points.
I also think this book doesn’t have the most accurate name. The story starts off clearly enough – Shasta and the talking horse Bree form an unlikely pair as they try to escape a wicked kingdom and head for the fabled land of Narnia. You’d think the plot would mainly focus on their relationship as they struggled to work together during this journey, but they actually spend a significant amount of time apart from each other. In fact, the two are nowhere near each other during the climax of the story. Bree the horse is an important character, but his time in the spotlight pales in comparison to Shasta’s and their relationship definitely isn’t the central theme.
The book really caught my attention in the final act where Aslan reveals himself and the climactic battle occurs. There’s a brief passage where Aslan describes himself as “Myself, myself, myself”, and each time he says it with a slightly different intonation. I think C.S. Lewis was going for a “Father, Son, Holy Spirit” metaphor here, as the intonations reflect these personalities in some way. That part was really intriguing, as was the way that Lewis revealed Aslan’s secret involvement in the plot. The final battle was exciting as well. I just feel that the middle of this book should have been refined a bit more. The info in the middle led us to this final battle, but surely there could have been a more exciting way to deliver that information than simply having a child hidden under a couch listening to two people talk about it for an entire chapter.
I have a feeling that this will be my least favourite story of the seven Narnia novels. I don’t think you risk losing much by skipping this read.
Prince Caspian
As I started reading this, I learned the original publication order of Lewis’ Narnia series. Prince Caspian is the second book he published, though it is the fourth chronologically. Part of me wishes I had read this directly after The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe because it feels like the next logical step – The Horse and His Boy doesn’t seem to quite fit to me even though it’s chronologically correct.
Compared to The Horse and His Boy, this book feels a lot more like Narnia by a long shot. It was great to spend more time with the Pevensie children, and though Caspian was born in the fantasy world, he still feels relatable as a character because the fantastical elements of his world are as weird and wonderful to him as they are to us. Reepicheep was a really fun character, and from what I can remember from Disney’s 2008 film adaptation, they absolutely did his character justice.
The time jump was also really exciting. The result is a Narnia that once again is almost wholly unfamiliar to the Pevensie children, and still filled with magic. There’s two big kinds of magic in literature that I’ve come across – the kind the character is used to and the kind they aren’t. In Lord of the Rings, magic is something that many of the characters are used to in one way or another. Here, characters are constantly astounded by the supernatural, and that’s really fun. It’s a very heartwarming and vibrant atmosphere that gets created as a result. I love when Peter and his siblings come across Cair Paravel and reminisce on all the good times they had there. Back in Book 2, Peter and the others were the prophesied ones who would be a part of the end of the Witch’s reign. Here, they still hold that same kind of awe-inspiring aura to the Narnians because they’re the Kings and Queens of old.
I can’t put my finger on any one particular moment in the book because there’s so many, but this book simply just feels magical. It’s a feel-good story. Oh, except for the Werewolf. Get a load of this quote:
“I'm hunger. I'm thirst. Where I bite, I hold till I die, and even after death they must cut out my mouthful from my enemy's body and bury it with me. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.”
Holy cow, that’s chilling. It’s like the book went from Neverland to Mordor in the blink of an eye.
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Though it was sad to say goodbye to Peter and Susan at the end of Prince Caspian, Lewis gives us some familiar faces in the return of Caspian and his loyal mouse Reepicheep – who I think stands out as the highlight character of the story. Reepicheep is funny, heroic, and intriguing as a character. He’s probably the most exciting mouse-character I’ve ever read about, though I confess beyond Stuart Little I haven’t read about too many. Drinian gets mentioned every now and then, but there’s really no substance to him to get you interested.
Although on the whole I enjoyed this book, I didn’t quite understand an important moment at the beginning of the story when Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace wound up unexpectedly in Narnia. Whereas previously the Pevensie children’s arrivals were explained in one way or another as a necessity, we never really get an explanation for why they’re needed on this voyage. Beyond that, I don’t really understand why this voyage needed to happen in the first place. Caspian is going on this trip to find some old relatives of his not because he needs to, but because he promised to. If he doesn’t find them this week, there’s really no rush. As a result, there’s a lack of urgency in the story. What keeps the plot going is the fact that our characters keep finding new strange and mysterious islands here and there. Because the story is arranged in such a way – where they find an island, meet some danger, and then leave – the whole thing comes across as a bit episodic where the removal of one or more chapters wouldn’t really impact the progression of the plot as a whole. That said, the individual islands are fairly interesting. The turning of Eustace into a dragon is likely the most intriguing island adventure, as is Aslan’s ‘healing’ scene which is a neat little analogy about the weight of sin and the difficulty involved with cleansing ourselves of it.
For me, the most interesting part of this book is the very end, when our characters have sailed off the edge of the map and get closer and closer to “Aslan’s Country”. The idea of sailing to the edge of the world is a really magical and romantic idea, and as they find increasingly wonderful things on their journey, you kind of get sucked in to the mystery of it all. What’s going to be there? What will it be like? However, usually in these sorts of stories, the idea is that the characters are trying to grasp at something beyond what mortals should try and grasp. Not once to my recollection is that notion presented, aside from the fact that near the very end Caspian gets in a bit of a spat over whether or not he should get to see Aslan’s Country himself. I mean, why are you sailing there if not to see it? Why does Reepicheep get to go? What’s the significance of that? And again, what do Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace have to do with this quest?
This was a magical read just like all of the other ones, but for a story about getting from Point “A” to Point “???”, it feels like the story has somewhat of a lack of directions.
The Silver Chair
I had all 7 of the Narnia books as a kid, but this is the only one that I had never even bothered to open. I figured a book about a chair couldn’t possibly be interesting. I’m happy to report that my pre-adolescent self was very wrong. This is a quality Narnia story, full of magical moments and fun characters. Having Eustace back was nice, but for me it was Eustace and Jill’s guide Puddleglum who stole the show. He’s basically Eeyore from Winnie The Pooh or Marvin from The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy – an eternally pessimistic commentator on whatever situation our heroes happen to find themselves in. More than being a source of funny moments, Puddleglum actually provides some helpful exposition here and there, and stands as a complex character all on his own. The plot is definitely more clear and motivated than I felt Voyage of the Dawn Treader was. Right from the get-go, we understand why Jill and Eustace are brought to Narnia, and we’re constantly reminded why they’re doing what they’re doing. That was a relief.
The underground portion of this book reminds me of what I wished A Journey To The Center of the Earth had been like: weird, wonderful, and brimming with life. In that section, there’s a bit where a Witch tries to convince our heroes that the surface world doesn’t exist. It seems to me that here Lewis is making an analogy for the argument of the existence of God. The Witch makes the claim that only the underworld is real, and all the colourful ideas of their surface world are just dreamlike mutations of what’s down there. But Puddleglum proudly stands and declares that he’d rather live like there was a surface world and find out there wasn’t than live like there wasn’t a surface world and find out there was. What I liked about this analogy is that even though it’s clear Lewis is trying to stick a mini-sermon into his work, it fits contextually with the plot and makes the motivations of our characters even clearer.
The one question I have has to do with how at the end of the book Lewis writes that this Witch in question was likely in some way related to the original White Witch. He wrote this book before he wrote The Magician’s Nephew, so maybe this sentence is meant to be discarded. But if not, is this Witch perhaps another ruler from the world of Charn from which Jadis came? If so, I’d love to hear how that happened.
The Last Battle
Wow, what a finish.
I know that this book predates the reference I’m about to make by over 60 years, but there was very much an Avengers: Endgame vibe to this story. Things go from bad to very bad to catastrophic, and then things get very, very good. There’s a bleakness that hangs in the air that’s so different from any of the other Narnian tales, and it’s both refreshing and terrifying. Narnia normally feels like a magical adventure, but here it just feels like the magic has dried up and all that’s left is defeat and loss. Our characters are worn out, battered, bloodied, and bruised – but they keep on fighting. I wonder how much of Lewis’ experiences in the World Wars influenced some of the chapters of this book. The titular ‘last battle’ is long, gratuitous, and chaotic. It’s nothing like any of the other battles in the history of Narnia, where glory is always on the horizon and victory never really seems too far off. I read through 90% of this book in one sitting, because I was that invested in what was going to happen to our characters.
Although I have a lot of good things still to say about this book, there is an unfortunate bit of racism that will likely be erased should they ever convert this book into a film. Our characters disguise themselves as Talmeranes, the Middle-Eastern-esque nation of Narnia that gets delved into fairly extensively in The Horse and His Boy. Dressing up in their armour is one thing, but they also paint their skin brown to complete the ensemble. Sure, it was a desperate situation, but when they finally got the paint off, our protagonist Tirian says “I feel a true man again”. Yikes.
That piece aside, Tirian is a noble hero of a protagonist. He’s bold, loyal, and unyielding. He’s aided by the return of Eustace and Jill, but they’re not the focus of the story as much as he is. And whereas The Horse and His Boy struggled with a main character who wasn’t from our world, this time Lewis pulled it off excellently. I think the difference here was that the story actually took place in Narnia instead of elsewhere, and that Tirian was in a position to affect the course of events more significantly than Shasta/Cor ever was. In any case, the characters definitely keep you interested.
If you plan on reading this book, I’d recommend skipping the rest of this review, because it’s spoiler-heavy content from now on. Last chance.
Okay, so let’s talk about the obvious parallels to the book of Revelation here. This book has false gods, demons that have been unleashed to walk the face of the earth, and a whack-load of lies and deception. Then, of course, there’s the absolute destruction of Narnia. It’s nuts. Lewis has never been particularly subtle in his Christian allegories through this series, but at this point he’s practically face-planting you into a creamy helping of Allegory Pie. It’s obvious that the end of Narnia is meant to foreshadow the inevitable end of our own, and so many points mirror the end that Revelation tells us about: the anti-Aslan, the raining of stars, the widespread death and destruction…and on and on. But can we focus for a moment on the fact that the Pevensie children died in a railway accident? I know that by the end of the book it’s a happily-ever-after, but did they really need to get killed like that? Couldn’t they have died in their own times and at their own paces? Death is kind of an unavoidable thing when you’re talking about the afterlife, but did Lewis really have to kill our beloved Narnian superstars like that?
And then there’s the Talmerane soldier to consider. Never before have I heard such a logical argument for the idea that people who worship other gods might make it into the Christian heaven. It’s not enough to convince me, mind you. I think Lewis is being too naïve here. When a man who worshipped Tash instead of Aslan finds himself in the afterlife face-to-face with the Great Lion, note what Aslan says to him:
“Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done to me…I take to me the services which thou hast done to him, for I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath’s sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him.”
The logic of Lewis’ argument makes sense to me here. He’s basically saying that any pure good deed that we do, whether it’s intentionally for God or not, makes God smile. So if a man lives his whole life serving a false god but serving him faithfully and righteously, he can still theoretically make it into heaven. Where the argument fails for me is the fact that I think it’s impossible to follow God properly if we’re not following the right God. God shows us the right way to live. I’m obviously not perfect and I mess up all the time, but if the Bible’s God’s word, then I’m continually stumbling in the right direction. If I’m following something else, I’m continually stumbling in the wrong direction. On the whole, I’d love to know if there’s any Scriptural basis for Lewis’ argument – because the way I see it, Jesus specifically says that no one comes to the Father except through Him.
Anyway, the ending of this book was beautiful. We got to see old friends one last time, and everyone was all together rejoicing just like the ending of Peter Jackson’s Return of the King. The final evil had passed, and Lewis’ imagery and language beautifully described the wonder and true happiness that awaits us when we leave behind these mortal wrappings. This book starts so bleak and ends so wonderfully.
My sister Elaina hated the ending of this book for a fairly obvious reason: Susan Pevensie didn’t make it. My siblings and I mirror the Pevensies fairly closely, with us being two boys and two girls with the same birth order. So when Elaina found that her counterpart was ‘interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations’, she was a little bit offended. You’d have to ask her for a more in-depth explanation, but on some level I think I understand why Lewis had to pick her. I’m guessing that Lewis wanted someone out of the popular cast of characters to ‘lose faith’, so that he could touch on the idea that people do fall away even when they’ve seen the miraculous. It’s a sad topic but an important one. But which character to choose? It would be a shame to pick Edmund, given that he’d already messed up royally once. You can’t pick Lucy because she’s the one who believed more than anyone else in the whole series. You could pick Peter, but he’s the High King. That would be a grievous blow. That leaves Susan. Sorry, Elaina.
For me, this was definitely the most thought-provoking and intense Chronicle of the entire series. It’s a shame to bid farewell to Lewis’ fantasy world, but it was a great ride. On the bright side, there’s plenty of other books that Lewis infused with his wit and charm that are still available, even if Narnia itself gets left behind. Long live Aslan!