Narnia: A Question Of Legitimacy

Narnia Recap: Edmund has denied the existence of Narnia and Susan and Peter have visited the Professor to ask his advice. The one thing everyone can agree upon is to let the matter lie for awhile. Some days later, all four children are forced to hide in the wardrobe to avoid a visiting tour group.

The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, Chapter 6: Into The Forest

   "There's something sticking into my back," said Peter.
   "And isn't it cold?" said Susan.
   "Now that you mention it, it is cold," said Peter, "and hang it all, it's wet too. What's the matter with this place? I'm sitting on something wet. It's getting wetter every minute." He struggled to his feet.
   "Let's get out," said Edmund, "they've gone."
   "O-o-oh!" said Susan suddenly, and everyone asked her what was the matter.
   "I'm sitting against a tree," said Susan, "and look! It's getting light -- over there."
   "By jove, you're right," said Peter, "and look there -- and there. It's trees all round. And this wet stuff is snow. Why, I do believe we've got into Lucy's wood after all."

We talked last time about Edmund's odd behavior when he came back to the Real World. Despite being magically compelled by the Witch's spell to bring his siblings back to her, he acted against his own interests by denying that the magical world even existed. We could not be sure at the time if this was just supposed to be another instance of Edmund's irrational unpleasantness, or if it was a veiled metaphor for atheism (who -- according to some theists -- all supposedly know heaven exists and just keep saying it doesn't), or if it was just a good excuse to trot out the Liar, Lunatic, Lord Trilemma.

But one commenter made a curious point: What if Edmund was legitimately trying to protect his siblings?

This is a point worth looking at. Edmund must realize that the White Witch was very stern and did not seem completely stable, what with her oscillating between threatening and cajoling him. Edmund himself may have only a rudimentary knowledge of the history of his nation's monarchy, but he must surely realize that very occasionally a legitimate monarch can be mentally unstable and/or dangerously cranky. That doesn't make the monarch necessarily less legitimate or even necessarily a bad ruler, but it does mean you might not want to spend a lot of quality time around them. Edmund may have decided on balance that being a prince of Narnia might be less nice overall than being a relatively safe little boy in the countryside, and he may be trying to protect himself and his siblings with his insistence that Narnia isn't real.

This isn't a viewpoint that stuck out at me in the text, but now that it's been suggested, I do suddenly note that it is Edmund here who says "let's get out -- they're gone." It's possible that in being transported to Narnia, the noise of the tour group has faded and Edmund is just too dumb to realize what is happening, but I don't think that fits with his characterization. He's been through the wardrobe once before, he knows about the trees and the snow, and I almost wonder if his urging now to leave isn't that of a scared little boy wanting to get himself and his siblings back to safety. Let's keep that in mind as a possibility going forward.

   Peter turned at once to Lucy.
   "I apologize for not believing you," he said, "I'm sorry. Will you shake hands?"
   "Of course," said Lucy, and did.

And since I spend so much time pointing out bad things in books, I want to point out that this is very nice. I do think it's very reasonable that Peter didn't believe Lucy, but I also think it's very pretty that he offers this polite apology and Lucy accepts it equally well and without fuss.

   "Ugh!" said Susan, stamping her feet, "it's pretty cold. What about putting on some of these coats?"
   "They're not ours," said Peter doubtfully.

   "I am sure nobody would mind," said Susan; "it isn't as if we wanted to take them out of the house; we shan't take them even out of the wardrobe."
   "I never thought of that, Su," said Peter. "Of course, now you put it that way, I see. No one could say you had bagged a coat as long as you leave it in the wardrobe where you found it. And I suppose this whole country is in the wardrobe."

We've talked in the past about Susan's role being that of the Child-Mother -- a character who serves as a surrogate mother for the other characters so that they can be cuddled and nurtured through the harder aspects of adventuring, but who is fundamentally powerless so that the other characters can still disregard good advice and get into exciting scrapes.

And this would, of course, be a good example of where Susan fills the role of mother: she comes up with the sensible plan to stay warm and provides reasonable justification for why this is morally justifiable under the circumstances. (Although I would have thought something along the lines of look, we're here now and we've no idea how to leave or where to go and we'll freeze to death without them would have been just as compelling, but I suppose it's a Chaotic/Lawful thing.)

It's interesting to note that neither Lucy not Edmund thought to take the coats in their previous adventures in the cold wood, despite Lucy being here twice and Edmund having supposedly a pretty flexible set of morals. Is this because they are less sensible than Susan, or is there some other reason? I'm trying to picture the scene in my mind: are the coats still hanging on racks in the wardrobe "tunnel" that lets out into Narnia, or has the wardrobe vanished around them and the coats are... hanging in mid-air? hanging on the trees? I'm not sure.

I've never really gotten a clear picture of how the children enter and exit the world -- there would seem not to be an actual visible door or tunnel because the children will later be accidentally evicted, but maybe it varies each time. It seems interesting, though, that Susan is the one to think of the coats and then lo-and-behold they are there, despite possibly having nothing to hold them off the ground. If Narnia is a fantasy world influenced by the thoughts of the inhabitants, then Susan has brought sensibility to Narnia.

The children continue on into the wood and Edmund lets slip that he's been in Narnia before, which generates some unpleasantness. Lucy suggests that the children head to Mr. Tumnus' house, which is a bit reckless of her considering that every time she visits him, she endangers him further, but she's a very young child and it fits her characterization to not think of this. When they reach the house, though, it's been burnt out and ransacked -- and long enough ago that the ruins have turned cold.

   "What is this?" said Peter, stooping down. He had just noticed a piece of paper which had been nailed through the carpet to the floor.
   "Is there anything written on it?" asked Susan. [...]
   The former occupant of these premises, the Faun Tumnus, is under arrest and awaiting his trial on a charge of High Treason against her Imperial Majesty Jadis, Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Lone Islands, etc., also of comforting her said Majesty's enemies, harboring spies and fraternizing with Humans.
   signed MAUGRIM, Captain of the Secret Police,
   LONG LIVE THE QUEEN! [...]
   "I don't know that I'm going to like this place after all," said Susan.
   "Who is this Queen, Lu?" said Peter. "Do you know anything about her?"
   "She isn't a real queen at all," answered Lucy; "she's a horrible witch, the White Witch. Everyone -- all the wood people -- hate her. She has made an enchantment over the whole country so that it is always winter here and never Christmas."

Now, I promised when I started this deconstruction that I wouldn't force Narnia into a framework where the Witch is a decent-but-wronged legitimate ruler faced with making tough choices for Narnia to survive... though I do think that would have added a very interesting dimension to the story. But, no, I'm perfectly happy to let her wear the villain hat. Having said that, I find Lucy's statement here curious. "Everyone--all the wood people--hate her," she says, and I can't understand if the aside is an amendment of Everyone or an extension of Everyone.

An amendment of Everyone would be a case of Lucy correcting herself. Everyone, well all the wood people anyway, hate her. It would correctly note that there are some non-"wood people" in Narnia who do not, actually in fact, hate the Witch. After all, at the end of this novel, she will be able to field a huge army of apparently quite loyal subjects, and she manages to give the opposing army quite a run for their money. Thus, this could be Lucy clarifying that, ok, the Witch has ghouls and werewolves and giants and dwarves on her side, but they're not wood people. The wood people hate the Witch.

Except... this isn't quite true. Later when the children are approached by Mr. Beaver in Chapter 7, he will caution them saying that even some of the trees are on the side of the Witch. So we can't even categorically say that all the wood people hate the Witch because clearly not all the wood people do. Shoot, even Mr. Tumnus was working for her at the start of the novel and while he may have been employed under duress, it's rather suspicious to look back and note all the not-available-in-eternal-winter-conditions luxuries he had piled up around his home. Was Mr. Tumnus happy to work for the Witch as long as he believed that the human children he'd been posted to watch for were just a mythic fantasy?

If "all the wood people" is an extension of Everyone, the problem increases. Conflating "all the wood people" with "Everyone" would indicate that anyone not a wood person is either not a Narnia (and therefore their opinion of the monarch is not relevant) or not worth considering period. Let's look at that Narnia map again included with my copy of the novel.

How much of Narnia is forest and how much is plains and mountains and beaches? (I'm disappointed that there's no X on the map for the location of the wardrobe, but I am still cheered that there could be in Archenland a Bridge to Terebinthia.) Even if a good deal of forest is left not shown, it is not possible that every citizen of Narnia is a "wood person".

So I tend to see Lucy's statement as an amendment: she hasn't met every member of Narnia, but she has met a wood person and that wood person assured her that all the other wood persons don't like the Witch at all. But this brings up a point: the only person that Lucy has met in Narnia is Mr. Tumnus The Faun. This particular person was employed as a kidnapper, possibly under duress, but also just as possibly with extremely nice black-market items provided to him as a perk from his employer to remind him of where his loyalties needed to lie. None of these things necessarily make him a bad person (complexity! yay!) but it does mean that he may not be the most trustworthy person in the room when it comes to gauging the pulse of the Narnian citizen.

How can Mr. Tumnus say with any certainty that all the wood people feel a certain way about the Witch? The Witch is his employer, and even though he's turned on her when faced with the reality of Lucy, he still has to maintain a facade of loyalty. Are the wood people really coming over to have tea with Mr. Tumnus and speak treasonous thoughts with a guy who has books and furnishings and fine foods provided through his sinecure job under the Witch's regime? Wouldn't Tumnus be seen as a toady, living off the backs of the Good Narnians while he farts about in the woods "keeping an eye out" for mythical Human Children? Wouldn't he be feared as a spy since his whole job is reporting back to the Witch? And wouldn't Tumnus himself be tempted to narc out the occasional Narnian to keep his job as Human Watcher and justify the monthly butter pats that come in the post?

But even if Tumnus has been a double agent all this time, or has joined the underground since his two-weeks-ago-or-whenever conversion, and even if he's right that all the wood people except some trees and birds and a few animals and obviously the wolves of course hate the Witch... then what does that mean?

A good many Narnians do not hate the Witch. Now, unfortunately, all these pro-witch Narnians (except the trees!) seem to be members of Always Chaotic Evil races, which brings up the usual problem in fantasy literature, namely, is the human-flesh-craving Ghoul evil because of their human-flesh-cravings any more than, say, an intelligent Lion is evil for needing to occasionally eat a nice rabbit? (And what a shame it is that we never see Aslan eat.)

Of course, there are two types of animals in Narnia: Talking Animals and dumb animals. Lions, for instance, are not the same as lions. A Lion that eats a Human or a Rabbit would be a very bad Lion indeed; a lion that eats a Human or a Rabbit is a dangerous lion, but not a morally evil one. And, of course, Lions and Humans can eat rabbits, just not Rabbits. Clear as mud?

And maybe the Ghouls and the Werewolves and the Human-eating Giants could eat other things instead. There aren't Humans/humans in the same way that there are Rabbits/rabbits, but protein is protein and there's no reason that the Always Chaotic Evil races in Narnia could eat a passel of dogs or goats or horses instead of preying on intelligent Dogs and Goats and Horses.

So even if the White Witch's claim on the throne is backed by the Narnian Ghouls and Werewolves and Giants and Flesh Eating Bunnies and so forth, that fact wouldn't suddenly make her a good ruler of Narnia. But does it make her any more legitimate? Lucy says that the White Witch "isn't a real queen at all" and this point will be repeated again in the coming chapters almost to a worrying degree. (After all, isn't it enough that the Witch is evil? If she was legitimate, would that make the struggle for freedom from her tyrannical reign somehow less admirable?)

But there's a disconnect here for me. The White Witch may have come by the Narnian throne through violence, but she's also backed by a very strong contingent of admittedly-evil backers who are, nevertheless, native Narnians. What precisely, therefore, makes her an illegitimate ruler as opposed to just an incredibly evil and bad for the health of the country ruler? After all, the home country of the Pevensie children has a rich history of rulers who came to the throne by force or other dubious means and who were revered-by-some-hated-by-others and who -- in many cases -- were utterly ruinous monarchs for the health of the country and its people but they are still generally seen by history as "legitimate" rulers, or at least as legitimate as anyone else.

Narnia is an allegory, and as such the roles are already set for us. Aslan's choice of the children as rulers is Legitimate and Good and Wise not because there is a good reason for inexperienced children from a foreign land and ancestry to rule Narnia but because Aslan is Jesus and his rule is law because he has the omniscience to see that everything will work out According to Plan. The White Witch, on the other hand, is repeatedly pointed out as an illegitimate ruler as opposed to merely an evil one, because she is an allegory for Satan, he who tried to usurp the heavenly throne.

I get that, and I'm not going to say that Lewis isn't allowed to set up the story that he wants to tell. But having said that, when faced with a passel of children who want to overthrow a monarch in order to claim her throne for herself, with information based largely on the say-so of a known traitor-liar-kidnapper, I couldn't help but think of Matheson's I Am Legend. The story tells the tale of the one remaining uninfected human in a city of vampires. Every day, while the vampires are helpless in their day-sleep, the main character raids their homes, staking the helpless vampires. He's on a one-man crusade to kill every last one of them.

It's not until the end of the novel that he realizes what he's done. The undead he's been killing may be creatures who hunger for blood in order to survive, but they have thoughts and feelings and intelligence. They have a humanity, and they're working to build a society and rein in the more violent members. Unwittingly, by slaughtering them wholesale, he has become the legendary Vampire that stalks them while they sleep and they have become the helpless victims. He has become Legend.

In that vein, I'd love to see a Narnia-like tale where the children struggle and maybe even win only to realize that they've been played for fools all this time. Aslan isn't the "legitimate" ruler or Mr. Tumnus has lied to them. Or even just essentially that the Always Chaotic Evil races backing the evil queen were acting out after centuries of oppression and hardship and while they may not have picked the nicest queen to back, they did at least finally get a ruler who didn't decorate the Narnian throne room with Werewolf pelts or Giant skins or something.

The White Witch is an evil ruler. She turns her opposition to stone and keeps the country blanketed in winter for no adequate reason that I can see. She is probably also an illegitimate ruler, rising to the throne through violence and bloodshed. But it's worth wondering whether or not the Pevensie children -- foreigners who rise to the throne through violence and bloodshed and who are backed in their claim by a mythic god-Lion who hasn't been seen for hundreds of years and will immediately disappear after the coronation -- are automatically more legitimate, and what that term actually means from the perspective of the inhabitants.

And I do hope that the old supporters of the Witch are treated with fairness and equality under the new regime. At least until they start eating Rabbits instead of rabbits.

80 comments:

Nathaniel said...

The whole Animals vs. animals thing is actually a pretty clear and defensible part of this universe. The important point is that Animals are people as Humans are, and animals are not. Its not good or nice to eat People, whether Animal or Human.

Personal Failure said...

I always felt sorry for the wolves of Narnia. They're wolves. Wolves eat fluffy bunnies. It's what they are. If you believe in god, as Lewis does, it's what god made wolves to be. So why are we to blame wolves, to hate them as evil? They are what they are, respect that and don't turn your back on them.

Lewis continually presents fluffy bunnies as good and wolves as bad, but look at Australia. Fluffy bunnies, having no natural predators in Australia, are causing no end of problems unchecked. Wolves serve a purpose and their purpose is necessary and, if you believe as Lewis does, god-ordained.

Also, we've seen that the White Witch has no problem using magic to control people's minds, so why aren't the wolves and such given the very obvious out: the White Witch Turkish Delighted them, and as such, their actions aren't their fault?

Amaranth said...

If I'm remembering right, the in-story reason presented for why the Pevensies are legitimate rulers and the White Witch is not is because in the beginning, Aslan originally created Narnia to be Ruled By Humans. And of course the Witch isn't human. That's why Prince Caspian, despite being descended of a race that neigh-unto exterminated the native Narnians (even the Witch didn't do that!), is also considered a "legitimate" ruler. He's human. (He's also good, which helps...but even Caspian the First isn't referred to in as disparaging of terms as the White Witch, even though he was the one who actually perpetuated a Narnian genocide. Not good. But human, therefore, legit.)

Narnia, we are told, is not to be a country OF humans, but a country RULED by them. Which I suppose allegorically ties back to the whole Genesis bit of humans having dominion over the other animals.

hapax said...

The point is actually made quite explicitly that Jadis's illegitimacy was that she was not human -- by the Beavers, IIRC. It's repeated in practically every book in the series.*

There are scenes of predators eating animals (not Talking Animals) and even hunting humans in the books, and they are not presented as Evil, just a problem. Plenty of predators are on the side of Aslan -- dogs, jaguars, and well, humans. (Remember in Prince Caspian that the children end up eating the bear they kill, in a fairly mouth-watering description).

I've always (even as a child myself) seen the bit where Lucy says "Everyone -- all the wood people -- hate her" as an absolutely lovely bit of characterization. After all, I vividly remember telling my mother, when begging for some treat or other, saying "But EVERYONE ELSE does that! Well, all my friends do. I mean, one of my friends does. She told me that her mom *might* let her do that..."

Perhaps I was the only child who ever did that, though.

*Actually, there is a lot of interesting stuff going on in the books, especially the earlier ones, about how the closer something is to LOOKING human, but not actually BEING human, the more likely they are to be Evil. Not just Jadis, but dwarfs who try to pass for human, giants who look more human than "brutish", even the Ape's (false) claim to be a human. It's sort of a spiritual Uncanny Valley.

I think this may be related to Lewis's Platonism, in which the most important virtue is to be What You Really Are, rather than trying to mimic someone else's design. So the "best" dogs are the most doggyish ones, the "best" cats are the most catlike, and the "best" humanoids are those that clearly can't pass for human (e.g. centaurs, fauns) and so forth.

Compare the fates of Frank the cabdriver and Uncle Andrew in TMN. Frank's acceptance of Aslan transformed him into more "himself"; Helen his wife was beautiful because she wasn't "dressed up" or disguised. But Andrew, by deliberately rejecting Aslan through forcing himself to not accept what was clearly happening, was actually rendered "non-human" -- he no longer was seen as a Talking Animal (a fate that echoes Ginger the Cat.)

depizan said...

I always found the idea that the kids were legitimate rulers because of their species deeply disturbing. It seemed wrong to me as a kid - and seems wrong to me still - that someone would set up a country of many sapient species and decree that only members of a specific (worse a specific non-native species) could be legitimate rulers of that land. I'm not sure I saw the racist aspect when I read the book, but it seems glaringly racist, or at least pro-colonial now. I know the idea that one could be deemed a legitimate ruler, not because of one's skills, abilities, or other sensible qualifications, but simply because one was a specific species (or other similar non-personal trait) seemed more evil than good. (Or at least a lawful neutral sort of thing.).

I have a long standing dislike of The One, and the story seems to be a particularly bad (or good) case of it. I don't warm to the idea that a person is good or heroic because of what they are - being a hero should be about who they are and what they do. Narnia has one of the most blatant "it's what you are" reasonings I've ever read. They're human, whoopee for them. That doesn't make them special or rightful kings, or at least it shouldn't. (I'm not lawful neutral.)

Loquat said...

Hapax raises an interesting point - the giants we meet in The Silver Chair are certainly evil, despite apparently having a thriving civilization, because they enjoy eating humans and talking animals. But in the same book, we also see the marsh-wiggles and the gnomes who've been enchanted into working for the witch, both races that look like humans but uglier, and both apparently perfectly nice (when not under magic mind-control). Maybe it has something to do with whether the non-humans act like humans?

Regarding Always Chaotic Evil races rebelling against oppression - that's pretty much what's been going on in Guilded Age; the main characters are aligned with the humans, and therefore at war with the rebellion, but it's been made pretty clear that the human government is in fact oppressing everyone else and the "Savage Races" have plenty of reason to fight.

Cupcakedoll said...

Re things looking like themselves:
Lewis' comments about the best dogs being the doggiest just makes me wonder if he disliked pugs and poodles and afghan hounds as non-doggy dogs and didn't approve of the Kennel Club dog show! But I know what he means, regarding dogs. Regarding "things that look human but aren't," that doesn't make as much sense. Anybody know what he's trying to convey with that lovely little speech? I like that speech, it's deep and meaningful even if I don't know what the meaning is, and I like it.

Re the map, mostly:
When I read these books-- in print order, not story chronological order-- it seemed to me the other lands weren't THERE in the first book. Later, after the four children left, Aslan and his dad got bored and decided to sketch in a bit more map, open a random portal to Earth, and see what they got. Retrofit not just by author but by in-world deity. This made complete sense to my ten year old mind.

Kit Whitfield said...

If she was legitimate, would that make the struggle for freedom from her tyrannical reign somehow less admirable?

It seems the moment to bring this up:

http://home.cc.umanitoba.ca/~altemey/

Rulership is generally held by the person who says they're in charge and can enforce it. In Narnia, the only person who gets to say what goes is Aslan. The queen isn't legitimate because there's only one source of authority, and therefore anything she says, or anything anyone says other than a paraphrase of 'Hail Aslan', is wrong.

--

"It's all in Plato, bless my soul, what DO they teach them in schools these days?"

Hopefully that Karl Popper had a point when he said that Plato was justifying totalitarianism rather than preaching freedom.

Nick the Australian said...

I've got to say -- I think you're falling into a bit of a trap with the "maybe Edmund was trying to protect his siblings" business. You think that Peter's tirade against Edmund was unjustified given the circumstances, and that's a perfectly reasonable view -- but now you're going a step further and saying that Edmund didn't mean to do anything wrong even though the text outright tells you otherwise. There's legitimate criticism of characterisation, and then there's "hang on, what weirdo version of the book did *you* read?"

You see it all the time in Harry Potter fandom, with the Snapefen. It's all very well to feel sympathy towards young Snape and to criticise James Potter for being a bully. But it's going too far to make excuses for all of Snape's faults (e.g. being an unmitigated sadist in his capacity as a teacher, tormenting Harry out of some ridiculous grudge against his dead father, tormenting Neville EVEN MORE just for kicks, being a racist who only saw Lily as a rare exception, willingly joining a group of murderous revolutionaries who sought to establish a racist totalitarian state, inventing a spell as a teenager specifically designed to slice flesh and make gaping wounds that can't be healed, only asking that the Order of the Phoenix hide Lily from Voldemort so that he could come along and "comfort the widow" after her wife and baby son had been murdered...) and acting like he's some kind of saint. In fact, you often find that the people who make excuse after excuse about Snape end up unfairly demonising James (e.g. accusing him of being a spousal abuser).

Snape's a jerk. Edmund's a jerk. Edmund's motivations for being a jerk are very poorly drawn out and he's not treated like a real human being in how he's written or how the story is written, but he's still a jerk.

Ana Mardoll said...

The trope you're describing is called Draco In Leather Pants, and yes, it can be frustrating. :)

I am not trying to shove Edmund into a heroic role, but I am trying to follow the text where it leads. So far we have the following facts in text:

1. Edmund is fed magical food that will force the user to do anything, including eat oneself to death (which is an incredibly slow and painful way to go), in order to get more.
2. Edmund is ordered to procure his siblings into Narnia exchange for more.
3. Edmund then immediately and forcefully denies to his siblings the existence of Narnia.
4. When his siblings find themselves being transported to Narnia (it's cold! there's trees!) Edmund tries to shuffle them out immediately with a blatant excuse ("I think they're gone now").

What can we conclude from this? I have chosen to conclude that Edmund is trying to fight the magical influence, but there are other conclusions. One would be that the magical food isn't actually as strong as the narrator described, but that would involve doubting the narrator over a statement of fact, which I don't like to do because of the slippery deconstruction trope.

Lewis seems to believe that this tension between events is justified by Edmund being a jerk -- i.e., he's so contrary by nature that he can't act in his own best interests, but I don't think I can allow that. One does not simply thwart an imperious curse (which is what the magical Turkish Delight essentially is) simply because one is a weak willed jerk who has no motivation other than "go contrary to whatever anyone else says or wants".

It is not a matter of me wanting Edmund to be a hero, but rather a matter of Edmund's actions in-text causing a tension that requires a resolution. Everyone is free to speculate on why Edmund ignores the magic around him and insists (repeatedly) that they leave Narnia as soon as possible, but within the confines of that argument, points #1 and #2 cannot be forgotten, even if the author seemed to do so. :)

Jillheather said...

One assumes that if the old supporters of the witch suddenly turn to Aslan and do good, they are accepted like the Calormenes. Can Ghouls etc do good, though, or does eating bunnies automatically make you evil?

(Derail: I am fairly sure Snape healed Draco when Harry used Sectumsempra on him, so presumably Snape created a healing spell to go with it, though obviously the healing spell didn't get out far enough for Mrs. Weasley to know it. Snape is a jerk -- a jerk for understandable reasons, who repents of some of his jerkiness (though not, by any means, all of it), who does difficult and dangerous work to make up for his past but who is often unable to overcome it and who continues to act like a jerk. He is an extremely complex person who does many wonderful things and many reprehensible things. )

Ana, have you read the Lev Grossman books? They are interesting as responses to Narnia.

Ana Mardoll said...

Jill,

And then the problem becomes: what if being a Ghoul/Werewolf/whathaveyou requires human flesh as a diet? Magical creatures may need different prey in order to survive, and all. And where did they come from? Did Aslan create Ghouls or are they perversions of the Witch's magic? Complication.

Re: Snape/James derail, I would hope it would be clear from my Edmund/Peter discussion that I would fall down on the side of empathizing with BOTH of them and saying that they were BOTH right and wrong in various ways. Shade of Gray and all. The difference between Draco in Leather Pants / Ron the Death Eater and, say, Alternate Character interpretation boils down to whether or not it's supported in text. Fanfic where Draco's in-text actions are cast in a sympathetic light because he had a crap childhood? Sure. Fanfic where Draco falls madly in love with Hermione because he loves the way she pronounces Leviosa? No, not without justifying why years of enmity and racial conflict between the two suddenly disappeared. And it had better be a plausible one at that. ;)

I haven't read Grossman, though I think someone has mentioned them in a Narnia context before? They're fantasy books, right? I need to add them to the list. Are they anything like His Dark Materials? I liked those a lot. :)

Loquat said...

I think we can salvage Lewis's intentions by saying the magic of the turkish delight wears off a bit with time - it might have been at the same level as an imperius curse when Edmund was sitting in the witch's sleigh eating it, but after some time walking through the snow away from the witch it faded enough to allow him some freedom.

And then he ran into Lucy and realized that he'd been hanging out with someone she believed to be evil incarnate, and figured (a) Peter and Susan would probably accept her claims that the witch was evil over his claims that the witch was perfectly friendly, and be mad at him, and (b) Lucy would be mad at him no matter what, so he might as well get her by denying Narnia's existence. Point 4 would then be Edmund's feeble attempt to not get caught in a lie, and point 5 makes perfect sense as Peter and Susan do, in fact, accept Lucy's claims that the witch is evil - that combined with their anger at Edmund for lying earlier means he's got zero chance of persuading them to go to the witch's house, and since Edmund knows quite well that the witch has powerful magic at her disposal he may be thinking that opposing her will be incredibly dangerous and stupid and they'll be much safer just going home. But he can't just come out and *say* he's personally seen the witch's magic in action, because then the others will be mad at him for fraternizing with the enemy.

And then they meet the Beavers, and the Beavers are all "We'll take you to Aslan so you can help overthrow the witch! Won't that be awesome?! By the way, the witch's house is just over that-a-way." and Edmund thinks "F this, I'ma go get a fix".

Will Wildman said...

Grossman's novels are (urban?) fantasy, set in a world where the main character was a big fan of a Narnia-expy series about a magical land, and said magical land turns out to be real. So it's supposed to have a lot of deconstruction and suchlike in there.

I started reading The Magicians (the first Grossman novel) and didn't get far enough in to reach the fantastical parts. Is the main character supposed to be quite unlikeable (in a very realistic, modern sort of way)? The line that sticks out in my memory is at the start, when he's looking at two of his friends who have coupled up and the narrative remarks that in his social circle 'everyone had already slept with anyone they were going to sleep with' (paraphrased). And it was just such an intensely Do Not Want way of looking at an unrequited crush that I stopped caring what happened to mopey dude. Maybe I just misunderstood what was he was supposed to be thinking, but it sounded like "It's nice that you two are happy together but couldn't you have at least gotten naked with me once before doing that". And it's not clear that he ever did anything to let her know that he was interested, so: how did he see this working out? Nice Guy Inevitability Theory?

All of which may have everything or nothing to do with how good the rest of the novel is or how insightfully it comments on Narnia. I don't know. Apparently the target of said crush becomes an increasingly important character as the series goes on, so I would guess their dynamic either becomes much less or much more distressing (to me, anyway).

Ana Mardoll said...

Loquat,

See, now I'm down with that theory - very nice. Edmund is still a jerk, but he's a jerk armed with logic. Swiffy!

It does mean we have to disregard the narrator a bit on the potency of the Turkish Delight, but it's disregarding the narration in a sensible way, ie. by adding a reasonable time limit. I like it.

Will, thank you! I kind of agree that an unlikable protagonist can kill a decon. (Unless they're unlikable in an interesting way...)

Loquat said...

Well, I think Lewis really didn't intend for the Turkish delight to be on the same level as direct mind-control anyhow - less like the imperius curse and more like the D&D charm spell that makes the victim want to help the caster. As we're seeing, the effects on Edmund clearly aren't consistent with any kind of direct mind-control or overriding order; they're much more like addiction cravings overriding his common sense. Makes me think the Turkish Delight somehow directly stimulates the pleasure centers of the eater's brain, and suppresses all feelings of fullness or discomfort - that'd account for the addiction and the willingness to eat to death without really needing mind control at all.

Ana Mardoll said...

Hmm. Sliding scale of addiction versus mind control? Is a sufficiently advanced addiction and withdrawal pains indistinguishable from mind control?

Kit Whitfield said...

Edmund is fed magical food that will force the user to do anything, including eat oneself to death (which is an incredibly slow and painful way to go), in order to get more.

The way it's written, I don't think 'force' is exactly the word. Lewis says you'd 'want more and more of it' and go on eating if 'allowed', which is a very adult-to-child tone. But if you're not 'allowed', there are limits; Edmund wishes for more, but he doesn't ask the Queen directly; there's evidently a degree of self-control possible. To me, it comes across more as if Lewis is presenting it as a craving, but one that ought to be controlled if one is a good person.

And I don't think it's right to call addiction a form of mind control. Deliberately addicting someone against their will is a very serious assault, but I think it's kind of insulting to addicts - who are, after all, real people with a problem - to consider it entirely overriding free will. After all, a real-life addict doesn't necessarily do everything their supplier tells them to do; just whatever they think necessary for keeping the drugs coming.

In that context, it's perfectly possible that Edmund is just panicking and not thinking very clearly. Lewis's children tend not to be very bright.

Ana Mardoll said...

Edmund wishes for more, but he doesn't ask the Queen directly

Whoops, nitpick: Edmund does ask the Witch directly for more -- twice, I believe, at time of consumption and again when he arrives at her castle again (although that may have been addressed to a proxy like the dwarf or wolf -- don't have my copy handy).

I think it's kind of insulting to addicts - who are, after all, real people with a problem - to consider it entirely overriding free will.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound that way. I can imagine a magically-induced addiction to be a sufficient override to free will, but I didn't mean to imply that all addictions override free will.

In that context, it's perfectly possible that Edmund is just panicking and not thinking very clearly. Lewis's children tend not to be very bright.

I can see this, but it still strikes me very strongly that Edmund is trying to leave Narnia. He only goes to the Witch's house when he's sufficiently lost in the forest that he can't get back home and the alternative is to choose between Witch and Aslan. It strikes me that if one is going to be executed as a traitor, but the "traitor" was trying to leave the situation entirely for the bulk of the war, well, it just doesn't seem 100% fair. Hmm.

Kit Whitfield said...

Yes, you're right about the directly thing. I suppose I meant that he doesn't badger her; he's evidently capable of weighing up the odds of her losing her temper and hurting him and can use at least a little bit of self-control to protect himself from that.

Ana Mardoll said...

Oh, right, I got you now. Funnily enough, I saw that as him trying to maximize his chances of getting at the MUST HAVE food -- bringing it up once and then sort of quietly sulking and not badgering always seemed to be the best method when *I* was a kid.

Speaking of, I forgot to respond to the part about Lucy's "Everyone -- well SOME people --" bit being awesome characterization: I agree, and you're not the only one who did that, because I used that line as a kid too. *grins* 'Course, I used it to settle arguments about how many cookies I could have after dinner, and not ones about ruler legitimacy, but it's the same concept, surely. :D

Francis said...

I've got to say -- I think you're falling into a bit of a trap with the "maybe Edmund was trying to protect his siblings" business. You think that Peter's tirade against Edmund was unjustified given the circumstances, and that's a perfectly reasonable view -- but now you're going a step further and saying that Edmund didn't mean to do anything wrong even though the text outright tells you otherwise. There's legitimate criticism of characterisation, and then there's "hang on, what weirdo version of the book did *you* read?"

The one in which there was one character who quite literally sacrificed his life, knowingly taking a mortal wound to cripple the villain's power without the expectation of being resurrected. (That's why Deeper Magic from Before the Dawn of Time is a cheat; it demonstrates Aslan's sacrifice on the altar to not be giving his life for others but to be a chessplayer's gambit to trick the White Witch into a position where he can shatter the Stone Table). Edmund on the other hand confronted the White Witch and explicitely unlike everyone else who did so he went in not going for her guts, for glory, and for survival, but to shatter her wand (and so break her power) knowing that if he did this he'd take the stone dagger in his guts. Without knowing that he'd be saved by Lucy's cordial in the end. And Lewis just mentions this offscreen, instead giving the screen time to the fight between the effectively crippled Witch and Peter.

If when push comes to shove, sacrificing your life to protect your friends and family isn't enough to make you a hero (indeed the hero) then what is? The moral courage to overcome being mentally screwed and admit that you were on the wrong side? Oh, wait. That's Edmund again.

I don't recall any of the other Pevensies getting genuinely tested except Edmund. Peter in specific always seemed to be on the right path and was never truly challenged. (And when Lucy's brains were tested, which she failed...)

Ana Mardoll said...

Francis, great points. :D

Without knowing that he'd be saved by Lucy's cordial in the end.

I wonder if he even knew about the cordial? He wasn't present when the gifts were given, and there's only about a 2-4 hour window between Edmund's reuniting with his siblings and Lucy's and Susan's disappearance with Aslan. One suspects they didn't welcome the lost lamb back with a LOOK AT THE COOL STUFF WE GOT breakdown.

Amaranth said...

"That's why Deeper Magic from Before the Dawn of Time is a cheat; it demonstrates Aslan's sacrifice on the altar to not be giving his life for others but to be a chessplayer's gambit to trick the White Witch into a position where he can shatter the Stone Table"

Interestingly enough, Andrew Adamson, the guy who directed the movies, thought the whole Deeper Magic thing was a cheap "gotcha!" on the Witch also. Which is why he changed the movie's dialogue to something more along the lines of "if the Witch had properly *understood* the Deep Magic, she'd have come to a different conclusion, etc".

Why yes, I do have a habit of watching hours and hours of special feature discs... :)

Ana Mardoll said...

Will, I love that you haven't read the book and that you like Movie!Edmund, because I'm taking way too much pleasure at how much these deconstructions are going to crush your soul in a few chapters. :D

I realize that makes me a bad person, but it's the same part of me that likes the Dark Twilight stuff, so I'll have to live with it. ;)

hapax said...

I'll be honest and confess that I had been staying away from these, because I love the Narnia books and I admire Lewis greatly, and I didn't want to get into the painful "Lewis wars" we had over at Slacktivist.

But then I said, "No, I trust Ana, I've read her Twilight stuff, and she can criticize thoughtfully without taking cheap shots" and it's not like I worship the books or think Lewis is above criticism (I can be very harsh on some of his writing myself -- don't get me started on "The Shoddy Lands", inexcusible piece of misogynistic crap, and worse, very poorly done...)

So I thought it couldn't hurt if you had a Narnia fan wandering by occasionally and saying, "Well, this is what *I* get out of this bit."

I promise to go away again if I start taking things personally.

Ana Mardoll said...

Hapax! I'm glad you're reading! (But please don't feel you have to go away if the deconstructions turn ugly -- if you feel comfortable doing so, pop me an email because goodness knows I need a sanity check from you now and again!! :))

Deconstructing chapter by chapter is actually turing out to be trickier than I thought because it's SO much easier to drill down on "this part here bugs me" and much harder to give props when something is lovely and right (as I try to do with Twilight). Which is, in itself, kind of ironic, because I like the Narnia books for a casual read way more than the Twilight ones, if only because Fantasy and Nostalgia and Colorful and Fun.

So if I *do* start getting too negative, somebody let me know and if that means breaking up the deconstructions into multiple posts per chapter to work in the "now this here is some good stuff", then so be it. :)

And, as always, even when I don't agree with Mr. Lewis' theology or Ms. Meyer's worldview, I still want to respect them as people and authors who were/are probably very lovely in person.

hapax said...

Oh, and I'll add that I think that Lewis realizes that he did Edmund a bad turn in this book. Whenever he shows up in later books he is always one of the sharpest characters, with a rich personality, an innate sense of fairness, and a low tolerance for B.S.

This contrasts with Peter, who is a bore, and gets written out as quickly as possible. The movies had to make up all of his various "issues", I think, because otherwise he would be a stock character straight out of turn of the century "heroic boy's literature."

Edmund vies closely with Eustace as my favorite character in the series; I think Lewis had real difficulty writing "good" characters in his fiction (as he more or less admitted in Screwtape). Compare Orual, the fascinating flawed heroine of TILL WE HAVE FACES, with her saintly sister Psyche, who I wanted to smoosh under a large rock.

I don't think you can lay the blame for the problems with Lucy (and the very different problems with Susan) just with Lewis's inability to write female characters, therefore. Jill is a fully realized character, after all (even though her creation, like Orual's, comes after Lewis met Joy Grisham, who seems to have considerably improved his view of women.)

I'm afraid that Lucy's vapidness and immaturity pretty much stem from the fact that he explicitly identified her with a real child, and I suspect that he therefore felt an obligation to make her "good" -- and Lewis just never faced up to the fact that his ideal moral characters weren't terribly likeable. Or even human.

Which comes back to the whole dichotomy in Lewis's writings -- that so many find Jack Lewis, the sympathetic friend so incredibly congenial in diagnosing spiritual failings, and also find C.S. Lewis, the rigid theologian, so terribly offputting in the God he prescribes as the cure.

(Not that there aren't those who reverse that estimate. And, of course, those who despise both...)

Ana Mardoll said...

Oh, and I'll add that I think that Lewis realizes that he did Edmund a bad turn in this book. Whenever he shows up in later books he is always one of the sharpest characters, with a rich personality, an innate sense of fairness, and a low tolerance for B.S.

Plus, he gets "the Just" as his kingly nickname. Which is way better than "the Magnificent", "the Gentle", and "the Valiant", from a ruling perspective. Not that valiantness isn't nice, but in peacetime I'm going to be looking to the just one for guidance, myself.

I'm afraid that Lucy's vapidness and immaturity pretty much stem from the fact that he explicitly identified her with a real child, and I suspect that he therefore felt an obligation to make her "good" -- and Lewis just never faced up to the fact that his ideal moral characters weren't terribly likeable. Or even human.

Interesting. This ties into my own feelings for Piers Anthony's "Jenny the Elf" character -- a character-insert written for a Real Life human girl who was the victim of a hit-and-run accident and permanently injured. It was very sweet of Anthony to write the girl into his stories, but he then seemed to feel that nothing bad could happen to the character and she could never do anything wrong or morally ambiguous, and the character is almost universally hated by fans because she's insipid and boring.

Which is perhaps why it's not a good idea to write Real Life people into major roles in a novel?

Dash1 said...

First, Ana, I've been catching up on the Narnia deconstruction and enjoying it thoroughly, including and especially the discussion in the comments. Thank you for this thoughtful and fascinating series!

On to my question: the "Edmund the Just" epithet strikes me as odd. The kind of Christianity that Lewis, AFAIK, adhered to would have said that all of us deserve punishment but receive mercy, so that justice and mercy are contrasted, Jesus being more towards mercy. Lewis certainly represents Edmund as deserving punishment (although, as you have observed, there are certainly some ways in which the character seems to have gotten away from Lewis), but what he receives from Aslan is mercy. And Lewis would have been aware that the Bible enjoins those who have received mercy to show mercy. So why isn't Edmund "King Edmund the Merciful"? Is that another Lewis slip-up?

Ana Mardoll said...

Dash, I'm glad you like the series! I hadn't actually thought of "just" that way -- I was thinking more a "wise King Solomon" kind of justice, but that's an interesting different perspective! One hopes that Edmund rules mercifully, but it *is* called out in text that Susan doesn't want to tell Edmund about Aslan's sacrifice and Lucy does, and it's left ambiguous whether or not Edmund ever knows. Hmm.

depizan said...

I'm afraid we'll just have to disagree. I find the concept of a world of many sentient species, only one of which can rightfully rule it to be, well, abhorrent. That doesn't mean I'm right. It just means I'm not a fan of Narnia. (Or stories featuring The One.).

Though, I'm rather at a loss as to how that perspective isn't inherently racist and bigoted if applied to actual nationalities and races. (Which, for all I know, Lewis never did and never intended. It comes off - to me - as racist or at least pro-colonial, but that doesn't mean Lewis meant for it to be read that way.)

Ana Mardoll said...

I also do not like... Animal Castes, for lack of a better term? Not only is it problematic from a "ok, how does this apply to humans" perspective, but it also just plain doesn't work. For instance, name a stereotype about cats (graceful, aloof, independent, intelligent, keeps to themselves) and one of MY cats thwarts it. So we know that animals aren't carbon copies of some platonic ideal any more than humans are.

It does rather bother me that the human children are the right rulers of the land because they're human. I get that Aslan essentially owns Narnia and he's installing them as vassals, and that's well and good, but for "...and must be human" to be on the table before a ruler can be accepted as ruler is very problematic for me. Ah well.

Nick the Australian said...

I like this. It fits really well.

Nick the Australian said...

I know! The entire final battle bit is just skipped over and recapped later in dialogue. The actual narration of the book sticks with Lucy & Susan as Aslan resurrects the statues.

In fact, the same thing happens in Prince Caspian! The account of the final victory of the Old Narnians is told retrospectively, while the narration at first just sticks with Lucy & Susan as they have a party with Bacchus.

jill heather said...

I assume that Ghouls/etc are just obligate carnivores, and not obligate Carnivores. But I am not sure this is supported in any way. I cannot see how they cannot be given the choice to be the Narnia version of vegetarian sparkly vampires, though I'm not sure what it would entail.

HP: I think that most of the complex characters are supported as such in the text, though the impression I got was that James was a frat boy type asshole who grew out of it, who had no real reason to be a jerk as a teenager and eventually realised it.

Back to the Lev Grossman derail: his book The Magician, and especially its sequel The Magician King, are essentially Narnia fanfic, minus the copyright issues. (The first book also has some Harry Potter fanfic in it, and the second has some responses to HP in it but is much more about Narnia.)

And the book is interesting. I enjoyed it a lot; I thought it was fun. I don't think it was very good, it was intensely problematic -- but fun. The protagonist (whose name escapes me) is an asshole. I don't like asshole main characters, especially asshole Nice Guy main characters. You can be complex and imperfect without being an asshole, but not in this book. And Grossman has somehow missed a lot of the discussion about sexism and racism in the Narnia books, so merrily goes off on his sexist (by plot and characterisation) and racist (by complete lack of any non-white characters) way writing a book that refers to the problems of class and religion and what it means to rule and just sort of ignores the problem of Susan and the Calormenes. It's fascinating, in a rather irritating way, and you wonder how Lev Grossman could have missed as much as he did.

hapax said...

IIRC, this is standard for the series. I don't believe any of the (many) battles in PRINCE CASPIAN are described except in brief summaries. The big battle at the end of THE HORSE AND HIS BOY is described third hand by the Hermit in his viewing pool.

The only battle that is described in detail is the titular LAST BATTLE, which was horrible and sad and the Narnians *lost*. (Also makes no military sense, but it wasn't really supposed to. The Narnians weren't actually fighting to "win" (any more than the Tribulation Force is supposed to "win" in the Left Behind books), and Lewis had all sorts of soteriological points he wanted to shove in.)

(Nor do I recall any of the battles in TILL WE HAVE FACES being described. Can't think of any in the Space Trilogy or short stories. There's a personal *duel* in PERELANDRA, as there is in PRINCE CASPIAN, but both of those are ... inconclusive.)

I suspect that Lewis either didn't like writing battles, or didn't like the way writing battles glorified military violence. Since he was hardly a pacifist, and said some rather positive things about war in SCREWTAPE, I'd have to reluctantly hypothesize the former.

cofax said...

It does rather bother me that the human children are the right rulers of the land because they're human. I get that Aslan essentially owns Narnia and he's installing them as vassals, and that's well and good, but for "...and must be human" to be on the table before a ruler can be accepted as ruler is very problematic for me. Ah well.

You are not the only one.

I recently wrote a completely unauthorized sequel to LWWW, and so had to do a lot of thinking about this question--why does a farcical leonine ceremony convey absolute power, anyway? (To misquote Monty Python)

And the in-canon answer I came up with, shaky as it is, is that it happened because of the way Polly, Digory, Frank the Cabbie, and Uncle Andrew showed up as Narnia was being sung into being. And for some reason the presence of humans at--indeed before--the creation of that world affected the Deep Magic. And as a result the magic of Narnia is indissolubly tied to the presence of Humans, and in fact if there were only one Human in Narnia, the magic of Narnia would treat that person as a king or queen. Ergo, Frank the Cabbie became the first king of Narnia. And the Pevensies stepped into that spot when they showed up because they were the only humans in town, and their presence was enough to break the Witch's hold enough for Aslan to show up, yada yada yada.

It's still monarchical and hierarchical, but at least there's a Watsonian argument for it that doesn't rely on Humans just being better and more important than the other sapient species in Narnia. ::handwaves madly::

By the way, Ana, I really am enjoying these posts and the conversations they engender. Until you posted, I had thought that death for treachery was rather overkill for the relatively small sins Edmund had committed, but I hadn't followed the logic as far as you have here.

Aslan really is a sneaky bastard, isn't he? (One of these days I'm going to write that story where Aslan really isn't God after all, and all the true Lewis fans will come after me with pitchforks...)

Kit Whitfield said...

Oh, and I'll add that I think that Lewis realizes that he did Edmund a bad turn in this book. Whenever he shows up in later books he is always one of the sharpest characters, with a rich personality, an innate sense of fairness, and a low tolerance for B.S.

The difficulty is, this is only after he converts to Aslanism. It's the same crudity you seen in Gibson's The Passion of the Christ: human virtue doesn't exist in its own right. If you're pro-Christ, you're a nice person; if you're anti-Christ, you're grotesque. This isn't an honest portrayal of humanity, which is a real problem when you're preaching to it.

--

I also do not like... Animal Castes, for lack of a better term? Not only is it problematic from a "ok, how does this apply to humans" perspective, but it also just plain doesn't work.

Hapax, you'll probably not like this, but I think it comes from a genuinely evil place. What do we say about serial killers, genocide perpetrators, and other killers? That they have the ability to 'dehumanise' the people they kill. Denying someone's humanity is the precursor to atrocity. And what Lewis is doing is specifically setting up a caste system that allows him to humanise some and dehumanise others.

I think it once again comes down to cosiness, which I'm starting to mentally phrase as 'the sin of cosiness'. He likes the idea of talking animals because it's fantastical and cute; he also likes the idea of eating meat. He has enough sense to realise there's a dissonance between those two ideas, but rather than facing up to it, he came up with this dehumanising, stratifying dodge.

--

The only battle that is described in detail is the titular LAST BATTLE, which was horrible and sad and the Narnians *lost* ... I suspect that Lewis either didn't like writing battles, or didn't like the way writing battles glorified military violence. Since he was hardly a pacifist, and said some rather positive things about war in SCREWTAPE, I'd have to reluctantly hypothesize the former.

I'd come up with an alternative explanation: as with the talking animals, he had enough sense to see a problem but not enough integrity to face it.

Do you remember how in Saving Private Ryan, the camera is always on Americans? When we see the landing, it's horrible and traumatic and we see lots of Americans dying. When we see the battle against visible Nazis, it's heroic and glorious and we see Americans killing. Seeing the enemy die, even if you call it 'slaying' or something equally grandiose, and even if it's a battle for a good cause, is an ugly business. Battles involve courage, but they also involve destruction.

So I think the fact that Lewis is prepared to show killing when it happens to a side we like but not when it happens to a side we don't is once against symptomatic of his careful double standards. Battle is ugly, but he only wants to admit it when the ugliness can be attributed to the enemy.

I dislike a lot of things about Lewis, but one of the most contemptible qualities he has is his consistent moral cowardice.

Bificommander said...

Kit, I'm curious why you picked Saving Private Ryan, because from what I remember it's one of the war movies that does this much better than most. Yes, the camera follows the Americans, and we see a lot of them getting brutally killed in the opening scene before they breach the Atlantic Wall. But when they do, we see them just as brutally killing the Germans (The part where they shoot flamethrower in a machine gun nest that had been shooting at them, which prompts one of the soldiers to order his fellows not to shoot at the burning Nazi's so they suffer more stands out, as does the scene where two Germans run at the Americans shouting "Nicht Schiessen" (Don't Shoot), and the Americans gunning them down asking one another "What was he saying?"). Those scenes hardly seemed to be glorifying the killing done by the Americans. I saw those scenes as free admissions that the American soldiers may have been the protagonists of the movie, but not neccesarily the supremely moral good guys.

A much worse/better examples would be the older The Longest Day, which also treated the Omaha beach landing but much more detached. The killing of US soldiers there wasn't as brutal as it was in SPR, but the killings of Germans was completely detachted. Though given when it was made, and that we followed several German officers who also seemed like ordinary men who had a job to do, I'm not judging it too harsly.

One film I do judge harshly though is Pearl Harbor, because it overly dramaticises the deaths during the attack on Pearl Harbor, which was when all's said and done was a military target, yet completely and utterly supports the Dolittle raid which consisted of bombing factories in Tokyo (and WW2 precision bombardments were generally done by just throwing lots of bombs around the target and assuming one of them would hit what you're aiming at, while everything in a wide area around the target got the shaft), while openly stating that the bombing was pretty pointless and just done for PR reasons, to give the American public a sort-of-victory, a story that they could tell to compensate for the fact that the U.S. was getting it's ass kicked on the actual military front at that time. Now, the attack on Pearl Harbor was of course a sneak attack without a declaration of war, and many people died that day. I do not mean to trivalize that. But ramping on the drama of an attack on a clear military target that was of great strategic importance, while treating a PR-motivated attack on a civilian target as a glorious pyrotechnics show admits cheers from the bomber crew sickened me more than the infamous love triangle.

Kit Whitfield said...

@Bificommander: may I ask - are you American? Because from an English point of view, that movie really puts it foot in it a great deal.

The fact that we don't see Germans dying as horribly as Americans on anything like the same scale is part of it. So is the fact that the only German we get to know at all turns out to be a traitor, a liar and a coward, who finally causes the only American who feels compassion towards German prisoners to shoot him in righteous rage, thus proving that humanising the enemy is something you have to outgrow. So is the fact that it presents the war as a contest between Germany and America; it even ends on a billowing American flag. And while American soldiers did indeed fight bravely in the war, so did many other nationalities, and setting it up as an all-American war is frankly rather insulting from a European perspective, given that it's our countries that got torn up. (Along, as you point out, with Japan, and a whole lot of other places besides. America lost people, but it got no bombed cities and then had an economic boom; honouring their lost people is perfectly right, but acting like it was all their sacrifice is not respectful.)

Spielberg doesn't do unsentimental very well, and the ways in which his sentiment crept in were, at least as I felt it, offensive and insensitive. I picked it partly because it seemed the best comparison of movies I've seen, and partly because its faults seemed to come from the same place as Lewis's: a lack of stomach for hard facts that leads to covert dishonesty. And both the movie and the books are, in my opinion, over-praised. (I like a lot of Spielberg's stuff, but I came out of Saving Private Ryan spitting mad.)

I haven't seen Pearl Harbor and I really can't be bothered. I remember some comment in the UK papers at the time that a line, 'I think the Second World War has started' had to be changed for European audiences to 'I think the Second World War has caught up on us', which is pretty appalling, but Spielberg's no less American-centric than Bay, really.

Ana Mardoll said...

@ Hapax, no, no, bogart away! I love following conversations to wherever they take us, and realistically speaking, I'm not sure it's possible to "derail" a blog post about a 60 year old book that was written as a Christian allegory and is now being deconstructed by a liberal Wiccan on the value of animal/Animal intelligence. Even a sports conversation at this point would be relevant, given how often we name the American teams after animals. :D

@ cofax, I LOVE the idea that the human rule is something that the Deep Magic accidentally codified into the being of Narnia and now everyone just has to work around the rule as best as possible. It combines all the awesomeness of "magic rules will screw you over" with an explanation for why Aslan buggered off and left Narnia in the Witch's hands all this time. It's not that he was callous, it's that the Deep Magic forced him to. Very neat.

For myself, in a society with intelligent animals and multiple species, it seems like a monarchy model is just plain silly. If Aslan hadn't forced them into it with the first King and Queen, I don't think the system ever would have evolved into monarchy. It seems more likely that you'd have an oligarchy of one Wolf, one Rabbit, one Donkey, one Centaur, etc. Whether the leaders were chosen by election or by dominance or whatever would be left to the individual species' desires, but once they were in a position of leadership, the rest of the oligarchy respected that being. Then they'd travel around the country solving disputes and so forth.

For all we know (going WAY off text here), this could be the system we have and the human kings and queens are just figureheads who deal with other nations. This will get especially strange later on when Calormen will remark on the strangeness of talking animals because they don't have any in THEIR country. It almost seems like Aslan created Narnia with talking animals and then just plonked the country down into position, surrounded by these human races who aren't actually Narnians. Very confusing to me.

Bificommander said...

I'm Dutch. I've only seen the movie once and it's not my favourite or anything. I must admit I remembered the opening scenes, where they don't pull their punches, the most. The later stuff... isn't quite as good, but still not as bad as many war- or action flicks IMHO. As far as American-centric attitude goes, the movie was following one particular group of soldiers. They all were in the same army. Yes, a few more nods to the existence of other parties would have been nice, but I don't hold it against the movie too much that it didn't. That makes it a missed opportunity in my book, not a cardinal sin. I'll give you the one German though. While he was a decent villain, making him the only German with a speaking part and seemingly making the point that the one guy who didn't want to shoot a prisoner was in fact wrong and learns his 'lesson' isn't good.

Rest assured though Pearl Harbor is far, far worse. If SPR pissed you off this much, then I would indeed advise you to ignore it, unless you really need to let of some steam.

Will Wildman said...

Ana: Will, I love that you haven't read the book and that you like Movie!Edmund, because I'm taking way too much pleasure at how much these deconstructions are going to crush your soul in a few chapters. :D

Yay! ...Wait, what? Um. Yay? Yeah. Yay! Do your worst, source text! *defiant pose*

---

Yeah, I too can only see a huge mess of problems with the animals and the Animals and the caste systems. (I do like the idea that the human monarchs are essentially Narnian Ambassadors to Other Countries, but if so you'd think they would try opening up dialogue with Calormen during their stay. Aslan might have made a recommendation or something.)

Is there a reason given as to why Narnia has Animals and animals? Given that there are apparently animals in other countries, the existence of animals in Narnia is kind of expected, but if the origin of Animals is that they were animals that got modded by Aslan or something, then why did he leave normal animals around as well instead of changing all of them? If it was specifically so that carnivores would still have a non-sapient meat source, then it might have helped if he at least modded the carnivore Animals so that they didn't want to eat other Animals, or so that Animal meat tastes awful to other Animals or whatever.

But this is all backstory, so I assume we're only going to hear about it in the prequel finale.

If Aslan hadn't forced them into it with the first King and Queen, I don't think the system ever would have evolved into monarchy. It seems more likely that you'd have an oligarchy of one Wolf, one Rabbit, one Donkey, one Centaur, etc. Whether the leaders were chosen by election or by dominance or whatever would be left to the individual species' desires, but once they were in a position of leadership, the rest of the oligarchy respected that being.

First (irreverent) thought: "Democracy is a Wolf, and Bobcat, and a Sheep voting on what's for dinner."

Second (germane) thought: if we're allowing that each individual species may not have the same system for picking a leader, I think there's a prior sticking point in getting them all to agree that a council of species is the best way, and getting them to accept the authority of council members selected by means that don't mesh for them. "Why should I listen to you? You're just a Wolf! You got your position by making the other Wolves roll onto their backs! You know what happens if you make a Beaver roll on its back? We undertake a colossal earthworks relandscaping that floods the southern half of the country!"

Third (wildly postulating) thought: maybe Narnia 'needs' humans in charge because there are no other humans in Narnia and thus they are presumed to be the only ones who will adjudicate impartially among the species? That could be almost not disturbing, maybe. (I don't think it'd work, because let's face it, the baby Seals will get everything they want while the Sturgeon floats in the Waiting Aquarium.

Loquat said...

I've never been entirely sure how to interpret the whole Animals/animals deal. Best I can come up with is that Aslan was trying something new and wasn't sure if it'd work out, so he only ascended some and left the others non-sapient. And, of course, this leads so some very Unfortunate Implications in The Last Battle, when all the Animals who rejected Aslan get reduced to animals. That whole book is just made of Do Not Want.

Loquat said...

Humans adjudicating impartially among the species seems like it would only really work if the human population is really small (and composed primarily of people who take the responsibility seriously, but then that's true of any system of government). As we see on Earth, and in Prince Caspian, whenever there are a lot of humans around we tend to take everything for ourselves.

Now I'm seeing Narnia spending much of its history as a designated non-human country with a human royal family that deliberately stays small by sending excess people to Archenland and Calormen, and avoids inbreeding by importing spouses from same.

Random thought: "foreign study" programs for certain species of Animals - are you an aggressive young Stallion, bored in your own herd? Go be a Calormene war-horse for a year! Wolves who want to see the world? Go to Archenland and join a noble's hunting pack! Obviously there'd be some issues teaching the foreign humans to treat the Animals as equals, and there'd really only be a few species that could take advantage of it, but it'd be an excellent way to forge ties with neighboring countries without relying on Narnia always having human rulers.

Will Wildman said...

Humans adjudicating impartially among the species seems like it would only really work if the human population is really small

Has there ever been a time when the human population wasn't really small, though? (I have zero idea what happens after Prince Caspian.) It's pretty clear that no more humans show up in Narnia while the Pevensies reign*, and I'm not aware of any being there for a very long time prior. So if the human population in the plan consists solely of reigning monarchs, the logic remains valid (if not sound).

*Which must be kind of a pain unless they're all naturally celibate. Hmm. Susan grows up in Narnia: implicitly remains good and true and virtuous; Susan grows up on Earth: explicitly gets all 'grown-up' and interested in boys and stuff (which is Bad). Commentary on nature versus nurture and inherent virtue is implied whether intended or not. That or every time Susan asked if there were dudes in this world she wasn't related to she got a chorus of mice saying "Nope, none, nowhere, all barren mountains and deserts out there, not one, you'll just have to cope."

hapax said...

Thinking more about this last night, and basically I just had to give up. Narnia simply cannot be comprehended as a rationally built world. Nothing about it *works*. We are told specifically that "it is not a country for humans, but a country for humans to be Kings and Queens of" (not exact but pretty close paraphrase.

We are told that in "good" times, the population of humans is very very small, limited to the royal family and maybe a few assorted "lords" and "ladies"; that "the sons married nymphs and the daughters married river-gods" -- but also that adulterated human blood ("looks like human but is not") is evil. Yet the entire royal line after Caspian isn't fully human either -- remember, he married the (criminally unnamed) "Star's daughter".

What, was Aslan counting on a continuing population of bored children picking up power rings and playing hide-and-seek and whatnot?

Meanwhile, EVERY TIME there is sufficient population of humans to have "rulership" mean ANYTHING, it always goes bad. The Telmarines, the Calormenes, etc. I suspect that Lewis was making a point about Original Sin (appararently all human beings in the Narnian world are imported from our Fallen world; he didn't say so of the Calormenes but where else could they have come from?) but it doesn't really work.

Because, once again, what does it MEAN to "be a King and Queen in Narnia?" There's no industry*, no agriculture**, no public works, no taxation, no social service; one of the few laws we are told the Pevensies instituted got rid of public education, for heaven's sake. There were foreign diplomatic "missions", but as near as I could tell, they were husband-hunting expeditions*** and excuses for parties.

About the only positive things we know that the "good" Kings and Queens of Narnia do is go to war (only against foreign invaders and "bad giants"), build navies (one ship), and plant orchards.

You could call it coziness, Kit, but I'm really not seeing it. It simply isn't thinking of fantasy world-building the way we've all been conditioned to think of it since Tolkien. It's the logic of a fairy tale, of whimsy, even a dream. It's perfectly reasonable to stick a particular element in for allegorical or aesthetic effect (or "because you want Talking Animals") without thinking of the *realistic*, practical implications. you might as well ask where the White Rabbit got his pocket-watch, and what time zone Wonderland was in. It's fun, but it's not fair to call it "cowardly" for not supplying the answer.

This does mean that the allegorical, aesthetic, even stylistic choices DO bear much more weight, though. And that's where you and I do frequently disagree -- and passionately.

*Please, I beg of everyone, do NOT bring up Mrs Beaver's sewing machine. It maketh my head to hurt.
**What on earth did everyone EAT during the long winter under Jadis, anyhow?

Will Wildman said...

Lewis was very clear about this, and so is the text. Aslan is explicitly NOT Jesus. The killing on the Stone Table has elements in common with, but is very much NOT an allegory for the Crucifixion.

I recall that Lewis was very clear that the Stone Table and Narnia in general was not allegory, but I thought one of the reasons it wasn't allegory was that it was literal - Aslan is Jesus and if Jesus decides to sacrifice his life to save others, it's kind of ridiculous to say that this is an allegory for another time he sacrificed his life to save others.

Aslan is noted a few times to be the son of the Emperor-Over-The-Sea, another divine figure (but is sometimes also identified as being the same person?), and in The Silver Chair Aslan says of himself and other worlds like Earth: "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason you were brought into Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you might know me better there."

(People also claim that CS Lewis stated that Aslan was Jesus, but I haven't found any direct sources on that yet.)

Kit Whitfield said...

I don't think it's fairy tale logic, though. Fairy tales may have morals, but they tend to express fears through dramatisation rather than promoting a particular religion or philosophy through allegory. Lewis preaches; fairy tales explicate. They have a particular aesthetic, a numinous sketchiness, that Lewis, with his love of detail and his fondness for asides and his nagging propensity to take side-swipes at the contemporary world, can't manage. A fairy tale needs a sense of timelessness, and Lewis is mired in time, from the political point-scoring to the last resort of killing his characters before they've lived a full life on earth.

Fairy tales are generally of a piece, aesthetically if nothing else. Lewis, though, cobbles together. It reminds me of nothing so much as this comment from George Eliot's 'Silly Novels by Lady Novelists':

Such stories as this of "The Enigma" remind us of the pictures clever children sometimes draw "out of their own head," where you will see a modern villa on the right, two knights in helmets fighting in the foreground, and a tiger grinning in a jungle on the left, the several objects being brought together because the artist thinks each pretty, and perhaps still more because he remembers seeing them in other pictures.

It's not the unrealism that I find ugly. I actually prefer numinous fairy-tale logic to detailed quasi-realism. It's the comfort with the idea of stratification and dehumanisation. You can have kind unrealism or callous unrealism, and I find Lewis callous while pretending to be kind.

--

Aslan is explicitly NOT Jesus. The killing on the Stone Table has elements in common with, but is very much NOT an allegory for the Crucifixion.

I find that really hard to believe. For instance; I don't have the book to hand where I read this quoted (It's Why Not Catch-21? by Gary Dexter, in case anyone wants to verify), but there's a letter from Lewis to a young reader who asked who Aslan was. He asked her who else appeared around Christmas, was the son of a distant ruler, sacrificed his life and so on, making it very clear that Aslan was intended to be Jesus.

I really, really don't buy that claim. Sorry, but it just doesn't seem to make sense otherwise. I know this, at least; when I was a child I tried reading the books, but not being aware of the Christian allegory, I ploughed after the first one purely because I found Aslan insufferably full of himself. If he's not explicitly divine, then he's bizarrely grandiose and everyone humours him far too much for his own good. If he's not Jesus, he's really got no excuse to carry on the way he does.

--

But not enthusiastically incorporating sexuality in a series of children's books is hardly evidence for it.

Ah, well, there's a whole 'nother can o worms. I've been misquoted before for pointing out that there's a certain sadomasochistic vibe to certain scenes in Narnia, so I should probably reserve comments on the subject until we get to the actual nitty-gritty, but I don't think you can call the books free of sexuality. Consider, for instance, the silly-in-a-grown-up-way tone of conspiratorial disgust with which he writes about Andrew's attraction to Jadis. There's plenty of sexuality there; it's just that it's sexual unease, a semi-fascinated discomfort with the whole idea of it.

I think Lewis does incorporate sexuality into Narnia. It's just that it isn't healthy sexuality.

Steve Morrison said...

Kit, the quotation you remember can be foundhere among other places on the web. As to the origin of the Calormenes, Lewis's "Narnia Timeline" says that they were descended from outlaws who had fled from Archenland, and that the Archenlanders themselves were descended from a colonizing expedition led by one of the princes of Narnia descended from King Frank. You can find a transcript of it by googling "Narnia Timeline".

hapax said...

Okay, maybe this is only a distinction important to a Christian theologian, but Lewis played at being one, and so do I, but there is a HUGE difference between "Jesus" and "The Second Person of the Trinity." Lewis was very clear about those distinctions -- most notably in MIRACLES (in the non fiction) and in the Space Trilogy (in the fiction), but it came up elsewhere, as well.

The Second Person of the Trinity is part of the co-eternal Godhead, who exists in a relationship called "Sonship" with the First and from Whom (with the First) "proceeds" the Third. The Second Person is traditionally assigned certain roles in salvation history, including shaping and judging Creation, as well as for the Incarnation.

Jesus was (and is) believed to be the human incarnation of the Second Person as a specific human individual in a specific time and place for a specific purpose (to teach, to heal, to die, to come to life again, and to return the essence of that human life to the Godhead) which collectively are believed to somehow undo the fallen state of humanity, a state that derives through humanity's own sin.

Aslan is obviously not human. While incarnate, he is not in our (human) world. The form he incarnates (a talking Animal) is not a Fallen being; in Narnia, there was no Original Sin. The Talking Animals are not Fallen; they are oppressed. In every case, Evil is introduced to Narnia through external circumstances. These circumstances are revealed in all cases to be of (Fallen) human origin.

Aslan does not die to "save" or "liberate" Narnia or any Narnian. He dies to save one specific (Fallen) human being who is then empowered to undo the consequences of his own mistake, which will then allow the reversal of the (ultimately human-caused) oppression of Narnia and the Narnians.

Aslan does perform the other roles of the Second Person for Narnia: he shapes and judges Creation, he is given ultimate "rulership" of the world he creates. He is in a "Son" relationship to the obvious First Person, "The Emperor-Over-Sea" (Outside Creation). Aslan also seems to take over some of the roles of the Third Person as well, but this is left extremely ambiguous (both in Narnia, and in Lewis, who does not seem to have a very clear notion of the Spirit in his Trinitarian theology).

He does imitate some of the *actions* of Jesus, most noticeably in healing and feeding those in relationship to him; but there is a notable lack of "teaching", except (once again) of humans. It is implied that once "in the Emperor's Country" (i.e, reunited with the Godhead), Aslan does NOT retain or return his Animal nature to the Divine.

In other words, Lewis may have stated somewhere that he was describing literally what would have happened if the Jesus-story occurred in Talking Animal Land, but the text of the story AND his own writings elsewhere indicate that it was not any such thing.

Sailorsaturumon132000 said...

I think you moisunderstand the whole Turkish Delight business. As I wrote earlier, the first book heavily draws from the Snow Queen symbolic, with Jadis as Snow Queen. Therefore:
1. The magical food is NOT putting Edmund under mind control. It's addictive power sshown is only that it is hard to stop eating it once you started - but stopping, say, drinking may be just as difficult. Edmuund surely has withdrawal symptoms, but they are not the main problem.
2. The main problem is that this food CHANGES THE EATER'S CHARACHTER. Just like that splitter in the eye, the magical food makes Edmund a jerk. He still has free will, but he now WANTS to do evil things and he is not strong enough to resist it - and THIS is his guilt.
That's why he acts like Commander Contrarian to Lucy and now to all other Pevensies.
3. The difference with Snape is as before that Snape Freely chose to be a jerk. Edmund didn't.
4. Regarding what is later - yes Edmund flees when he hears about Aslan, and this is justified given that he IS already a traitor - by eating the magic food he already committed treason and will be punished (ironically later the Witch demands it, and Aslan wouldn't do it on his own, but Edmund doesn't know it). And yes, the withdrawal symptoms may play a role, but this is only one part.

Sailorsaturumon said...

Susan grows up in Narnia: implicitly remains good and true and virtuous; Susan grows up on
Earth: explicitly gets all 'grown-up' and interested in boys and stuff (which is Bad).

In Narnia, she grew just as bad. It's implied that the Rabadash situation wasn't the only one.




>I always felt sorry for the wolves of Narnia. They're wolves. Wolves eat fluffy bunnies. It's what they are. If you
>believe in god, as Lewis does, it's what god made wolves to be. So why are we to blame wolves, to hate them as >evil?
>They are what they are, respect that and don't turn your back on them.
>Lewis continually presents fluffy bunnies as good and wolves as bad, but look at Australia. Fluffy bunnies, >having no natural predators in Australia, are causing no end of problems unchecked. Wolves serve a purpose and >their purpose is necessary and, if you believe as Lewis does, god-ordained.

Bunnies may be a general problem, but when you need a strong oppressive force, you turn to Wolves. And their evilness wasn't because they are predators - there are plenty of dumb beasts to eat (beavers catch fish). Their evilness comes from the fact they serve the Witch and they do this because they like being in power.



Also, we've seen that the White Witch has no problem using magic to control people's minds, so why
aren't the wolves and such given the very obvious out: the White Witch Turkish Delighted them, and as
such, their actions aren't their fault?

See above about turkish delight.
Generally I don't think this magical food is ALWAYS Turkish Delight. It just takes the form of whatever the victim desire most - for wolves it was some power extender, most likely.



And then the problem becomes: what if being a Ghoul/Werewolf/whathaveyou requires human flesh as a diet?

This cannot happen according to Lewis. Anybody has a choice to subsist of reguklar animals.

hapax said...

"In Narnia, she grew just as bad. It's implied that the Rabadash situation wasn't the only one."

Really? I'm not disagreeing with you, but I don't think I ever saw that. Do you remember where?

depizan said...

by eating the magic food he already committed treason

How does that work? I've never understood Edmund's supposed treason and that just baffles me further. To be a traitor in the "death to traitors" sense, you have to have betrayed your country or your country's ruler (or, in much earlier times other rightful rulers, including one's husband). What country or ruler of Edmund is he meant to have betrayed? Eating magic food is not a betrayal of England, nor, for that matter, does it make sense as a betrayal of Narnia. As far as I can tell - out here in the real world - one can't accidentally commit treason; it's a crime that requires intent. Apparently, in Narnia, not only does it not require intent, but one can commit it against a land that isn't one's own... by eating food given to you by a person who keeps you from freezing to death.

WTF?

hapax said...

How does that work? I've never understood Edmund's supposed treason and that just baffles me further.

He betrayed the only ones he COULD betray in Narnia -- his brother and sisters. He handed them over to the Witch, knowing full well she did not mean them well (even though he had convinced himself that she wouldn't kill them)

I am intrigued by the idea of the Turkish Delight functioning like the glass shard in The Snow Queen -- not taking away Edmund's free will, but twisting it, magnifying selfish and contrary impulses so that those things which were beautiful appeared ugly and those that were wholesome appealed rotten. There are plenty of hints in the text to support that, I think.

In that case, what washed the glass shard out wasn't Gerda's tears, but Edmund's own, when he wept in pity for the little party of picnickers turned to stone. (Once again, before he ever met Aslan. I don't know if Lewis did that on purpose, but that was always my favorite thing about Edmund. He turned the corner on his own, not through any magical or supernatural intervention.)

cofax said...

**What on earth did everyone EAT during the long winter under Jadis, anyhow?

Black-market imported goods. Or they left Narnia to go somewhere there were four seasons. Or they worked for Jadis, who presumably imported food to feed her staff. Those were the only three options I could think of. Tumnus' relatively comfortable existence, with toast and tea and sardines? Clearly indicated he was a collaborator.

Of course, what I can't figure out is why Jadis, who was powerful and ambitious enough to kill her entire planet rather than be defeated by her sister, was willing to settle for tiny little Narnia, when Calormen and the rest of the continent were all there waiting to be exploited. It makes no sense to me. In-canon, anyway; extra-canonically, clearly Lewis hadn't gotten that far either with Jadis' backstory or the world-building to see what a contradiction it was.

"In Narnia, she grew just as bad. It's implied that the Rabadash situation wasn't the only one."

There's no evidence of that. Susan's "fall from grace" (such as it is) is described entirely via hearsay in TLB. What we get in the other books of bad behavior is Susan refusing to believe Lucy saw Aslan in PC, and her failure to identify Rabadash as a murderous obsessive stalker in HHB. That's... about it.

My personal canon is that Susan, on being ejected from Narnia by Aslan and informed by her parents and teachers that she was a pants student, decided to use the skills she learned in Narnia to go into either diplomacy or espionage. Rather than spend all her free time nattering about a magical land she could no longer enter, she went on with her life, and became the next Dame Daphne Park. By the time of TLB, she wasn't a Friend of Narnia anymore, because she was a Friend of Britain.

depizan said...

But that's betrayal, not treason. They're not the same thing. I don't remember what Edmund knew or didn't know, but I do remember finding it an odd sort of betrayal. I suppose I should check out a copy of the book so I actually know what I'm talking about. Remembering impressions doesn't do us much good.

Kit Whitfield said...

Okay, maybe this is only a distinction important to a Christian theologian, but Lewis played at being one, and so do I, but there is a HUGE difference between "Jesus" and "The Second Person of the Trinity."

Two problems:

1. That's hard to square with his 'Has there never been anyone in this world...?' 'Anyone' strongly implies an actual person.

2. As you point out regarding sexuality, he's going for a child's viewpoint. And from that viewpoint, the distinction between Jesus and The Second Person of the Trinity is so abstruse that I think it doesn't fly.

--

Regarding fairy tales - you know more about that than me. All I can say is that in Lewis, it comes across as employing deliberate blind spots, and I don't like what he chooses to be blind to.

--

Agreeing there is a silly fascinated discomfort with adult sexuality in the books; but I would argue that it's presenting a child's viewpoint (or perhaps what Lewis imagines is a child's viewpoint) rather than Lewis's.

I don't agree with that. (Surprised? :-)) To quote:

Children have one kind of silliness, as you know, and grown-ups have another kind. At that moment Uncle Andrew was beginning to be silly in a very grown-up way.

The first sentence isn't a child voice, it's an adult-to-child voice. The tone is instructive. He's not pretending to be a child, he's telling children that sexual attraction (or at best, sexual attraction that's unlikely to be requited) is silly.

Some children do have a fascinated discomfort with sexuality, but an author has a choice as to whether to enter into or encourage it, or else to leave sexuality alone to avoid triggering it, or else to present sexuality in a more positive way so as to gently encourage a more mature understanding. Lewis takes his pick. And to my ear, his tone has a squirming quality (that unnecessary word 'very', for instance), that seems authentic rather than assumed.

Kit Whitfield said...

First, good point, but aren't most fairy stories and, until recently, most stories for children told in an adult-to-child voice?

I wasn't saying that as a contradiction to the fairytale point. Just disagreeing with hapax that Lewis was writing it from the position of a child, which she said as a defence of the discomfort.


Second, I disagree that what Lewis is saying is that sexual attraction is silly.

In isolation, perhaps not. But Andrew poses and preens because Lewis has him do that: Lewis is deliberately making his attraction look silly. And then consider this: I can't think of an example in Narnia where an adult man feels attraction towards an adult woman that isn't portrayed as undignified. The knight in the chair is portrayed as bespelled, and Jill sniffs that, 'Where I come from ... they don't think much of men who are bossed about by their wives.' The prince who wants to marry Susan is portrayed as spoiled and sullen. Nobody in Lewis looks wistful when they want a woman: they look vain and stupid. Lewis stacks the deck heavily against sexual attraction: all his portrayals of it are negative.

hapax said...

I have always thought of Uncle Andrew as one of the male counterparts to (maybe) Susan or Lasaraleen, taken to the extreme -- shallow and self-centred, so no matter WHAT he is interested in, it's always through the lens of his supreme selfishness and therefore made silly and twisted. It's not that any of his pursuits ( knowledge / science / magic, Jadis, social status, etc.) are "wrong", but that he goes after them for the wrong reasons in the wrong way.

But Uncle Andrew is an extremely complicated (and controversial) character that might best be left for his own book. I have Thoughts about him as a stand-in for Lewis himself (and the past that he rejected) that makes it very hard to discuss him in a sentence or two.

I can't think of an example in Narnia where an adult man feels attraction towards an adult woman that isn't portrayed as undignified.

Well, there isn't much adult sexual attraction, period, as I mentioned before. But how about Caspian's attraction to the Star's daughter? It's got other problems (to start with, her lack of a NAME), but it's very positively presented.

And the "kings" and "princes" who sought the hands of the adult Susan and Lucy at the end of TLtWatW are given only a couple of brief mentions, but certainly aren't mocked for it. There's the allusion to the romance of "Fair Olvin and the Lady Liln."

Frank and Helen and Digory's parents are portrayed as having happy, loving marriages -- as are the Beavers, if you want to bring the Animals into it. Cor and Aravis were given a rather silly reason for marrying in THahB (although I admit it still makes me giggle a little) but were presented with dignity in their cameo at the end of TLB.

Kit Whitfield said...

Frank and Helen and Digory's parents are portrayed as having happy, loving marriages

Yes, but you don't have to portray sexual attraction in a marriage. The attraction that brought them together has already happened.


But how about Caspian's attraction to the Star's daughter? It's got other problems (to start with, her lack of a NAME), but it's very positively presented.

I don't remember that one, so I guess I'll have to wait till it comes along.


And the "kings" and "princes" who sought the hands of the adult Susan and Lucy at the end of TLtWatW are given only a couple of brief mentions, but certainly aren't mocked for it.

I feel that actually backs up my point: it's not mocked as long as he doesn't have to portray it and deal with the discomfort.


I think there's quite a lot of sexual attraction, and men who are attracted to women with any force of personality or real identity are presented as ridiculous and grotesque. You might put that down to misogyny rather than sexual unease, but I wouldn't put either to his credit.

Sailorsaturumon said...

First, the whole fact that Susan has multiple courtships, but Lucy doesn't implies that Susan encourages such behaviour. Second she does remark in THAHB that she behaves silly around men who court her.

Loquat said...

You know, the first time I read Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Caspian marrying the Star's daughter at the end took me completely by surprise. To be sure, I tend to be kind of oblivious to subtext, but I just didn't notice any indication in their brief scene together that either of them felt attracted to the other.

Dash said...

Thanks for clarifying your point about the fairytale "voice."

So, about Andrew. I saw that as kind of a continuation of what we have come to expect from him. He uses people. He sees them, in fact, in terms of how they can benefit him. I didn't see in the text evidence that sexual attraction was the basis for his preening and posing. But I supposed one could read that as the behavior of a middle-aged bachelor of his social class as represented by Lewis.

No question, though, every evidence is that Lewis had enormous problems with sexual attraction. It's amazing that the man was a medievalist, medieval literature being what it is.

Slybrarian said...

As far as I can tell, the only "treason" Edmund committed was not immediately attempting to enlist the White Witch's assistance against the Nazis. I'm sure Churchill would have loved to have plunged Germany into year-round winter, and it would have let Edmund and his siblings be reunited with their parents. I mean, sure, it could have made the Cold War a little more literal, but hey, at least she's a proper royalist and not the red menace.

Sean Goedecke said...

Ha! That is absolutely delightful.

Ana Mardoll said...

Seriously, that's a Narnia fanfic I could get behind.

skreader said...

Narnia as allegory, but a religious allegory, not political.

Perhaps it works if we see Narnia as the Kingdom of G-d. The White Witch is the political ruler (politically legitimate or not) but she is not "Queen" in the same way that Caesar is not/ was not "Lord" (although posessing political legitimacy). Just as Jesus/G-d is lord, Aslan is the real ruler & the Pevensies are his representatives (priests?).

So, then the "Wood people" that Lucy refers to are the believers and followers of Aslan (the heirs of the Kingdom? The Communion of Saints?) and the baddies are the sinners who have not repented.

Kit Whitfield said...

Narnia as allegory, but a religious allegory, not political.

The problem with that is that Lewis mixes political with religious point-making. As, for instance, the Scrubbs are presented as socialist progressives (it's done in hints, but it's clear). Or, for instance, Jill and Eustace's school is blamed for treating misbehaviour as a sign of psychological disturbance rather than a cause for old-fashioned corporal punishment, and also for being feminist enough to have a female head and co-educational classes. He incorporates elements of political thought that he doesn't like, and presents them as inimical to Aslan, Narnia and righteous living.

Some writers focus on purely spiritual concerns and are only talking about people's relationship with the divine. With those writers, you can say it's a religious allegory but not a political one. But Lewis isn't one of those writers. He implicates political thought - and indeed, tends to conflate politics he disagrees with and sinful corruption. At times he positively stoops to invoking religion to attack politics - which is where we get into the saying, 'If you mix religion with politics, you get politics.'

Since he does that, political thought in the Narnia books is absolutely fair game.

skreader said...

Hi kit,

I was trying to suggest that looking to sociological theories of power and legitimacy to explain why Lewis had Lucy state that the White Queen is not the "real queen" might be looking at the wrong type of explanation & that the theological idea of the who is "Lord" might elucidate it.


re: not political allegory
I am on pretty easy ground looking at Narnia as a crude religious allegory - even as an 10 year-old it was hard to miss Aslan's resurrection. I don't really see the political allegory - a lot of cultural conservative hobby-horse riding (the nasty asides about Eustace's family & school) and racism (anti- Calorman, etc.) but that seems (to me anyway) to be very out-in-the-open, non-allegorical.

So, yes, I agree w/ you that political thought in Narnia books is fair game for analysis, but if we look purely to political science & sociology to explain what's going on in the books, I think we may miss stuff.

Giggles said...

'by eating the magic food he already committed treason'

How? I mean I get the whole 'don't take food from strangers' but at that point Edmund had no idea that she was the bad guy or that the food was drugged. You might as well blame Lucy for eating Tumnus' food.

Giggles said...

Talking of legitimacy. I don't know how many of you have seen Monty Python's Spamalot, but this line just reminded me of the situation in Narnia. Comes from a peasant who is questioning why Arthur is King
'Oh, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you.'

Replace 'watery tart' with 'jesus like lion' and 'threw a sword at you' with 'says so'.

As for why there are Animals and animals. I believe that at first there were only Animals (so what anyone ate I can't say) but then the Calormens (who were exiled from Archenland) behaved 'very wickedly' and were turned into dumb animals.

Brenda said...

I had thought from an earlier discussion that the conclusion that was going to be drawn was that since the Witch told Edmund not to tell anyone about their meeting, that that was partly why he denied having been to Narnia.

Will Wildman said...

to shatter her wand (and so break her power) knowing that if he did this he'd take the stone dagger in his guts. Without knowing that he'd be saved by Lucy's cordial in the end. And Lewis just mentions this offscreen
Wait... that happens off-page? That was my favourite moment (in the movie). How - who would - what?

My Edmund-centred consternation grows.

I did think there was an implicit arc about the testing of Peter's moral fibre (in his case, willingness to take responsibility for things, in an 'all-that-evil-requires-is-for-good-people-to-do-nothing' way), but given that I only have the movie in reference to points not yet covered by Ana, I wonder how much I can trust that impression to be supported by the text.

Will Wildman said...

The wikipedia page on religion in Narnia has various quotes from Lewis' letters that seem to support the it's-not-allegory-because-it's-literal interpretation.

"In reality, however, he is an invention giving an imaginary answer to the question, 'What might Christ become like if there really were a world like Narnia, and He chose to be incarnate and die and rise again in that world as He actually has done in ours?' This is not allegory at all."

"Since Narnia is a world of Talking Beasts, I thought He [Christ] would become a Talking Beast there, as He became a man here. I pictured Him becoming a lion there because (a) the lion is supposed to be the king of beasts; (b) Christ is called "The Lion of Judah" in the Bible; (c) I'd been having strange dreams about lions when I began writing the work."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religion_in_The_Chronicles_of_Narnia

Steve Morrison said...

Which is perhaps why it's not a good idea to write Real Life people into major roles in a novel?
Go ask Alice; I think she'll know...
Seriously, that may be the only way to do it: write the RL person as the protagonist, and make that protagonist the only one with a mundane viewpoint in a world where, well, "logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead".

BrokenBell said...

I think I could be on board with the idea of a particular species being attuned by its peculiar gifts to "rule" if ruling were presented as some sort of central coordinating to make sure basically that resources were allocated, disputes settled -- ruling as sort of a travelling circuit problem-solving resource. An argument could be made that some of the (apparently) extraordinary human gifts at pattern making, organization, abstract communication, etc would equip it naturally for this sort of service.
...Sssssure, but such traits are... Statistical tendencies, at best. If we accept that humans, in general, are better suited to running a country than, say, sapient badgers, we still have to be aware that some humans would be completely atrocious leaders, and some sapient badgers would be fantastically capable. Making it an absolute law that only humans can be legitimate rulers on the grounds of statistical likelihood is, I would argue, where it passes from reasonable acknowledgement of differences, to outright discrimination.

But then, even in-universe, I'm not what to make of the fact that clearly, you don't actually have to be human to be a ruler. Aslan himself, unless he's actually some kind of special, unique kind of Lion, is an example of an Animal being regarded as the highest authority entirel-

Oh. I went to check - I've never looked for a Narnia wiki before, but I knew there'd be one - and apparently it turns out later on that Aslan is literally Jesus. OK. Nevermind. Ignore that last bit. Doesn't matter what species he happens to be, in that case. I still find the human-only rulers thing problematic, but it's not inconsistent with Aslan being lion-shaped.

hapax said...

Susan grows up in Narnia: implicitly remains good and true and virtuous; Susan grows up on Earth: explicitly gets all 'grown-up' and interested in boys and stuff (which is Bad). Commentary on nature versus nurture and inherent virtue is implied whether intended or not. That or every time Susan asked if there were dudes in this world she wasn't related to she got a chorus of mice saying "Nope, none, nowhere, all barren mountains and deserts out there, not one, you'll just have to cope."

Explicitly contradicted in the text.

Both the grown up Susan and Lucy in tLtWatW were sought in marriage by Kings and Princes; just because we didn't see them *accepting* any, doesn't mean that they didn't *consider* it. We in fact know that Susan did because she was very close to accepting an offer from Rabadash until she saw his cruelty and arrogance in his native Calormen. Lucy also was strongly implied to have romantic interests when she was tempted by the beauty spell in the Magician's Book in DAWN TREADER.

Really, I do think Lewis gets a bad rap for this one, and the "lipstick nylons and boys" line is exaggerated all out of proportion. Problematic ideas about women he certainly had and expressed. But not enthusiastically incorporating sexuality in a series of children's books is hardly evidence for it.

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