Revisiting Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe
And so we come to the classic. If there's any one book that most people have read from the series, it's this one: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.
[By the way, there seems to be no Oxford comma in this title, which does make sense to me in this case.]
As a title, it's a classic too, and it is the most distinguishable title as a Narnia book in the series. After all, when I see or hear the word closet (or walk-in-closet), I think of clothes, but when I hear the word wardrobe, I think of hide-and-seek and coats and trees and snow and Mr. Tumnus and Turkish Delight!
To a certain extent, I'm almost overly familiar with this book when I re-read it, but I'd like to share some reflections and general observations about it, especially with where my mind has been in reading it this time.
First of all, I think I've come to the conclusion that it's a coin-flip whether or not it is best to read this one or The Magician's Nephew first if you are an adult or of a certain age, but it is best to read this one first if you are a child. For children, especially, it is a wonderful invitation to a new world by first hiding in a wardrobe and then slipping into another realm. On that note, the mechanics of travel between "our world" and Narnia are rather odd in this book. Lewis introduces the relative time elements brilliantly, but the way that the children are not able to pass through every time is puzzling, and intentionally mysterious, I guess.
My next observation is that the plot is somewhat simple, but it is effective. It can be said that only a few major plot points happen. But it is the effect of those plot points that works so well, especially as an introductory story to the land of Narnia, Aslan, and concept of travel between our world and that one. The seemingly endless cold of "always winter and never Christmas" is a neat storytelling device, and Lewis has lots of fun with this throughout the book, from the transition out of the wardrobe and into the cold, to the frozen/stone environment, to the breaking of the spell that begins with an appearance of Father Christmas and continues with Aslan's appearance, and the witch's sledge losing its effectiveness, and Aslan's breath restoring cold hearts and stony sculptures and returning them to flesh and life. And the children as heirs motif is great. These work well as allegories, sure, but they also work even better as elements of a children's tale.
Perhaps the most poignant recognition I made in reading the story this time is how touchingly Lewis deals with Edmund (and Susan too, really, whose characterization I'll address in a later review). At times, Edmund is written as an annoying character. But! I also had a conversation with someone recently about how relatable Edmund's choices are in this book! The perspective shifts in this book really explore the depths of betrayal and forgiveness in a remarkable way. And I realized in reading the book this time that Lewis does something quite touching by featuring both Lucy and Edmund as dual main characters. For one, Edmund is truly made to suffer and wallow and then fight to face the consequences of his actions. If there's one character who goes through the most growth in this book, it's Edmund. His arc is quite strong, and each step of the way he is made to struggle through some step of the way in development. Meanwhile, Lucy remains a beacon of light - as her name implies - and her encounters with Aslan give her a much deeper understanding of what deep forgiveness is really all about and what it requires. Lucy cries a lot in this book, but her tears come from a pure and honest place, and what some might see as childish, I now see as a sincere response to real pain. Lucy's joy is real, and so is her pain.
Which brings me to the climax of the book. What's amazing to me about what happens in this book is that the scene is so powerful that it even worked for me in the more recent film adaption (now 15+ years old), which was otherwise a mediocre/subpar film. Even in that film, Aslan's choice to solve the central problem... left me speechless...
... There's not much more I can write here, not because there isn't more to say but because it works better within the realm of art. The scene just works for me, both for what is states on the page and for the metaphorical and allegorical symbolism (of the true event) it represents.
And that's where I usually stay with this book. And it is where I want to go and read when I think of the four other books it specifically reminds me of...
But I'm also glad Lewis ended with those battles and that reign of the kings and queens. And, the child within me still wants to go ride a horse and be a king like High King Peter the Magnificent and King Edmund the Just.
[By the way, there seems to be no Oxford comma in this title, which does make sense to me in this case.]
As a title, it's a classic too, and it is the most distinguishable title as a Narnia book in the series. After all, when I see or hear the word closet (or walk-in-closet), I think of clothes, but when I hear the word wardrobe, I think of hide-and-seek and coats and trees and snow and Mr. Tumnus and Turkish Delight!
To a certain extent, I'm almost overly familiar with this book when I re-read it, but I'd like to share some reflections and general observations about it, especially with where my mind has been in reading it this time.
First of all, I think I've come to the conclusion that it's a coin-flip whether or not it is best to read this one or The Magician's Nephew first if you are an adult or of a certain age, but it is best to read this one first if you are a child. For children, especially, it is a wonderful invitation to a new world by first hiding in a wardrobe and then slipping into another realm. On that note, the mechanics of travel between "our world" and Narnia are rather odd in this book. Lewis introduces the relative time elements brilliantly, but the way that the children are not able to pass through every time is puzzling, and intentionally mysterious, I guess.
My next observation is that the plot is somewhat simple, but it is effective. It can be said that only a few major plot points happen. But it is the effect of those plot points that works so well, especially as an introductory story to the land of Narnia, Aslan, and concept of travel between our world and that one. The seemingly endless cold of "always winter and never Christmas" is a neat storytelling device, and Lewis has lots of fun with this throughout the book, from the transition out of the wardrobe and into the cold, to the frozen/stone environment, to the breaking of the spell that begins with an appearance of Father Christmas and continues with Aslan's appearance, and the witch's sledge losing its effectiveness, and Aslan's breath restoring cold hearts and stony sculptures and returning them to flesh and life. And the children as heirs motif is great. These work well as allegories, sure, but they also work even better as elements of a children's tale.
Perhaps the most poignant recognition I made in reading the story this time is how touchingly Lewis deals with Edmund (and Susan too, really, whose characterization I'll address in a later review). At times, Edmund is written as an annoying character. But! I also had a conversation with someone recently about how relatable Edmund's choices are in this book! The perspective shifts in this book really explore the depths of betrayal and forgiveness in a remarkable way. And I realized in reading the book this time that Lewis does something quite touching by featuring both Lucy and Edmund as dual main characters. For one, Edmund is truly made to suffer and wallow and then fight to face the consequences of his actions. If there's one character who goes through the most growth in this book, it's Edmund. His arc is quite strong, and each step of the way he is made to struggle through some step of the way in development. Meanwhile, Lucy remains a beacon of light - as her name implies - and her encounters with Aslan give her a much deeper understanding of what deep forgiveness is really all about and what it requires. Lucy cries a lot in this book, but her tears come from a pure and honest place, and what some might see as childish, I now see as a sincere response to real pain. Lucy's joy is real, and so is her pain.
Which brings me to the climax of the book. What's amazing to me about what happens in this book is that the scene is so powerful that it even worked for me in the more recent film adaption (now 15+ years old), which was otherwise a mediocre/subpar film. Even in that film, Aslan's choice to solve the central problem... left me speechless...
... There's not much more I can write here, not because there isn't more to say but because it works better within the realm of art. The scene just works for me, both for what is states on the page and for the metaphorical and allegorical symbolism (of the true event) it represents.
And that's where I usually stay with this book. And it is where I want to go and read when I think of the four other books it specifically reminds me of...
But I'm also glad Lewis ended with those battles and that reign of the kings and queens. And, the child within me still wants to go ride a horse and be a king like High King Peter the Magnificent and King Edmund the Just.
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