Groping for another land

The Horse and His Boy opens innocently enough, with the fisherman’s hut by a little creek on the sea, where a young boy named Shasta lives with an old fisherman he calls father. But our eyes, like Shasta’s, quickly move northward, to the unknown land beyond the hilled horizon.

Our hearts yearn to know this hidden place; and we are heartbroken at Arsheesh’s lack of curiosity and lack of tolerance for Shasta’s curiosity.

We, unlike Arsheesh, can identify with Shasta’s plight. We know the feeling of piddling about here, all the while thinking that something great, something better, something magnificent lies over the next hill. We feel out of place, uncomfortable. We pretend we’re not out of place, but we know deep down inside that this is not our home.

We long for the North.

Then, one day, as Arsheesh sups with an unexpected guest, Shasta overhears the story that would have him hop the nearest horse and take off for the North.

*Spoiler alert*

The man he called his father was not his father. The man he had struggled unsuccessfully to care for was little more than a slaver, and undeserving of Shasta’s affection. The fishing hut was not his home–probably Caloremen was not either. In fact, he might even be a son of the only-longed-for North.

Here, Lewis sets up in story form what he expresses elsewhere in plainer terms:

“f I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Shasta becomes outwardly what he had been inwardly all along–a wanderer, groping in the dark for something, he knows not what.

When he first discovers the truth that he is not really Arsheesh’s son or a son of Calormen, his mind moves towards fantastic dreams. So he was not the fisherman’s son–then perhaps he was the son of a Tarkaan or of a god! Perhaps the Tarkaan who wished to buy Shasta would later adopt him as a son, making him great.

He wonders aloud what the Tarkaan is like, and a talking horse interrupts his reverie with an answer.

In a series of fortuitous or not so fortuitous events, what had once only been an idle dream of seeing the north became an imperative. Shasta must escape to the north, must make his way out of this place.

And so the blind man’s longings become desperate gropings.

“From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us.”
~Acts 17:26-27


Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge
This post is notes from my reading of The Horse and His Boy for Carrie’s Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge.


Book Review: “The Narnian” by Alan Jacobs

I’ve read biographies of soldiers, of statesmen, of starlets. I’ve read biographies of philanderers, philanthropists, and even families. But until The Narnian, I’d never read a biography of a mind.

Unlike the more traditional biography, which seeks to relate the events of an individual’s life first and foremost, The Narnian chooses to focus on how the events of C.S. Lewis’s life shape and are shaped by Lewis’s powerful imagination and thought life.

As a fan of Lewis’s fiction dating from my early elementary years, later turned a lover of his more philosophical works, I took great delight in reading The Narnian. Unlike the misnamed C.S. Lewis: Chronicler of Narnia (My Review), The Narnian is shot throughout with references to Lewis’s imaginative works.

It has now been months (unfortunately) since I read The Narnian, and the fine details of the book have faded from my mind. I cannot remember the specific points that Jacobs makes better than other biographers or the characteristic manner in which he made his points. I cannot give details of his writing style. Such details have been lost in the hubbub of moving.

But one thing has not been lost—my sense of deep gratitude to Jacobs for his fine biography of a mind that has so shaped my own mind through his writings, both fiction and philosophy. Jacobs treats Lewis respectfully as he seeks to describe Lewis’s life and the development of his imagination. Jacobs does not blindly bow before Lewis’s memory as though Lewis were incapable of doing wrong—but he also avoids the trap of pigeonholing Lewis into one or another category, suggesting that he was a master at X (philosophy or apologetics or criticism of Medieval literature) while pooh-poohing the rest of his life and work.

This is truly a wonderful biography of Lewis, presented in an engaging and honest manner. I definitely recommend it.

Janet also read and reviewed The Narnian over at Across the Page. Her review is a bit more in-depth with hints of what can be found within the book. Check it out!


Rating: 4 stars
Category: Biography
Synopsis:A biography of C.S. Lewis that focuses on his inner life–his mind and imagination.
Recommendation: If you’ve read and enjoyed Lewis, be sure to check out this book for a fantastic look at the man behind the books you’ve read.


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Book Review: “C.S. Lewis: The Chronicler of Narnia” by Mary Dodson Wade

I consider juvenile nonfiction as my own personal version of Cliffs Notes (for those of you too young to remember the once ubiquitous yellow and black covered pamphlets, think a printed Spark Notes.) Whenever I want to get a general outline of a topic, a basic overview of an idea, or some interesting facts about something, I turn to the juvenile nonfiction section at my local library.

I was excited to see C.S. Lewis: The Chronicler of Narnia in the children’s nonfiction section when I was working on the Chronicles of Narnia reading challenge (all the way back in July!)

I generally enjoy biographies written for younger people because they tend to focus on the highlights rather than getting bogged down in the minutiae (as some adult biographies can.)

I discovered that Mary Dodson Wade’s biography did a good job at giving a classic overview of Lewis’s life. The author begins at the beginning with young Clive Staples renaming himself “Jacksie” and concludes with some of Lewis’ legacy. In a concise 83 pages, it offers an efficient, comprehensive biography.

My only peeve with the book is its title. With a subtitle like The Chronicler of Narnia, I would have expected the narrative to focus on events and ideas that specifically relate to the Chronicles of Narnia. It did no such thing.

Sure, the book opens with a quote from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader–but from there it gives no mention of Narnia until the second to last chapter (Chapter 13). While many other authors would discuss similarities and differences between Lewis’s childhood imaginary world Boxen and Narnia, Wade remains silent. While many other authors would muse on how Lewis’s love for myth or experience in the Great War or training in philosophy or comaraderie with the Inklings affected his writing of Narnia, this author does not. She does not mention Narnia until after she has told almost all of Lewis’ story and discussed all his other writings. Then and only then, she states “Lewis wrote seven fantasies for children” and begins to speak of the Chronicles.

This is where I find it hard to review this title. How can I assess such a book? It was well suited for the purpose for which I read it–that is, to give me a Cliff Notes on Lewis’s life so I wouldn’t have to work so hard while reading a more in-depth adult biography (I’m currently working on The Narnian by Alan Jacobs.) But as a biography in and of itself? It gets the job done. It tells the facts. But it has little artistry of form to recommend. Wade’s writing doesn’t pull me into Lewis’s world, it doesn’t fascinate me by establishing a meta-narrative in which to read his life, it doesn’t make any interpretations about who Lewis was. It’s just…the facts, nothing more.


Rating: 2 stars
Category: Children’s biography
Synopsis: Wade summarizes the major events in C.S. Lewis’ life, including his many writings.
Recommendation: The facts are there, the treatment pretty comprehensive–but this title lacks soul. If you want an encyclopedia entry-type coverage of Lewis, go ahead and read this. Otherwise, look elsewhere to learn who Lewis really was.


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Inciting Passion

This year, I have been concentrating on exercising my mind towards the things of God.

No doubt my longer-term readers have noticed the emphasis of this blog shifting from anecdotes to thinking and theology. Those who have seen my book lists have seen weightier books appearing more often on my lists–and have seen a greater emphasis on critical evaluation in my reviews. Those who know me personally have likely seen or heard some of my intellectual struggles of this past year as I’ve wrestled with the role of the miraculous gifts in today’s church, with what might appropriately induce someone to leave a church, with the role of Christians in government, with non-violence as a Christian virtue, and more.

Now, as I return to the classroom, teaching again, I still intend to exercise my mind towards the things of God–but to that I add one more goal.

I would like to stir up my passions towards God.

I want to incite within my soul such a thirst for God that I find the murky waters of this world unfulfilling. I should like to develop such a taste for God that I will turn aside from every trifle this world offers. I would like to desire God so deeply, so fully that the desire for Him drowns out every desire for any other person or thing. I should like for Him to become my consuming passion, my deepest longing, my forever quest.

I am reading John Piper’s Desiring God–and as I read, I am crying:
“Lord, awaken my hunger. Lord, awaken my thirst. Lord, awaken longing. Awaken my desire–for You.”

“I know of no other way to triumph over sin long-term than to gain a distaste for it because of a superior satisfaction in God.”
~John Piper, Desiring God

O Lord, I desire to find such superior satisfaction in You!

“…it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us…We are far too easily pleased.”
~C.S. Lewis, quoted in Desiring God

O Lord, may I not be easily pleased by the small joys this world offers.

“…This persistent and undeniable yearning for happiness was not to be suppressed, but to be glutted–on God!”
~John Piper, Desiring God

O that I may be glutted on You!

“God is glorified not only by His glory’s begin seen, but by its being rejoiced in.”
~Jonathon Edwards, quoted in Desiring God

May my life bring You glory as I rejoice in You.

“The pleasure Christian Hedonism seeks is the pleasure that is in God Himself. He is the end of our search, no the means to some further end.”
~John Piper, Desiring God

O, that I might delight in You, not as a means to my heart’s desire, but because You are my heart’s desire.

(This is a reflection on the foreword and introduction to John Piper’s Desiring God. For more reflections on Desiring God, see my notes here.)


Book Review: “Inside the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” by James Stuart Bell and others

View my disclosure statement for more information on how I choose books to review.

Chronicles of Narnia

When Carrie’s Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge rolls around in the month of July, I relish the opportunity to go back to Narnia. I don’t often give myself the luxury of re-reading books, since I’ve got a bazillion books to read in my quest to read every book in my local library. But I make an exception for C.S. Lewis and re-read one title for the challenge. I’d already read all seven of the Narnia books (since September 5 of 2006 when I began the quest), so I assumed that there was no way I could continue to make progress towards my goal while I completed the Narnia reading challenge.

But then Carrie posted a collection of books about Narnia (and a second list). I had an “Ah-hah!” moment and quickly opened my library webpage to see if they had any books about Narnia that I could read. They did.

Since I was just finishing up The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I figured that Inside “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” would be a good title to start with. Inside is a paperback novel sized book intended as a children’s read-along or study guide for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. The writing style reminds me somewhat of the popular “For Dummies” series, in that unfamiliar vocabulary is defined and the authors speak directly to the reader. But even though it might be easy-to-understand, this book is definitely NOT for dummies.

Inside “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” is stuffed with information about the allusions found within the iconic Narnia title. The authors take the reader through the book chapter by chapter, explaining the London air raids, Turkish delight, Father Christmas, the background on the many strange creatures found within Narnia and more. While I’m relatively well-read, I learned plenty from this book. For instance, I already knew that the wolf Maugrim’s British name was “Fenris Ulf”, but I didn’t know that he may have been modeled after the mythical Norse wolf “Fenrir”. This book describes literary allusions that I didn’t know existed–but which make perfect sense upon reading them. They’ve got me wanting to read some of the fairy tales and mythology that seem to have inspired Lewis!

Of course, some of the most evident literary and historical allusions found in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe are allusions to the Bible. Bell, Pyykkonen, and Washington address these in the same way as they address the others. They explain the reference to “sons of Adam and daughters of Eve.” They describe the correlations between Aslan and Jesus and between Edmund and Judas. They discuss Cair Paravel as a sort of “Promised Land” or “heaven”. The authors aren’t over the top with their Biblical references (that is, they don’t make it the emphasis at the expense of explaining other references), but they are thorough in their coverage of the Biblical allusions found in Narnia.

Some other fun features of this book (in addition to the information that it’s JAM-PACKED with) are the quizzes and call-outs that can be found at odd intervals throughout. You can take a quiz about the differences between beavers in Narnia and beavers in our world. You can read a quick “profile” of Peter (and numerous other characters) that lists his name, age, nicknames, likes and dislikes, and the gift he received from Father Christmas. There’s a logic puzzle to play and a closing “Oscars” in which you can vote for the best leading “actor” in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Kids interested in discussing Lewis’s book with their friends (or homeschooling mothers interested in assigning writing exercises to go along with their child’s reading) might enjoy the discussion questions found in the back of Inside.

All these features combine to make this a great resources for anyone (late elementary school on up) who is a lover of Narnia. Homeschooling parents (or parents looking for a project to do with their kids for next year’s “Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge”) may want to use this book as a springboard for a unit study for younger students (While the title doesn’t specifically give activity suggestions, it wouldn’t be hard to come up with some of your own–they’re practically jumping off the page in anticipation for you to do them.) All in all, this is a book every lover of Narnia (and lover of children’s literature in general) should pick up.


Rating: 5 Stars
Category: Literature Study-Guide/Read-along
Synopsis: An easy-to-understand yet in-depth look at the literary and historical allusions found in C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Recommendation: This book is a definite keeper. Find it, buy it, peruse it, lend it to your older children, and find a way to share the information found within with your younger children. This is a fantastic resource.


Digory Meets Greatness

Digory Kirke is an ordinary boy, living an ordinary life in London in the nineteenth century. Well–ordinary inasmuch as he wasn’t anything extraordinary. He had a strange name, and an unfortunate story–father away in India, mother dying, having to live with a crazy old uncle and aunt–but he really wasn’t that special.

Certainly, no one could ascribe greatness to young Digory Kirke.

Yet he was about to embark on an adventure that would shape the rest of his life. Through his adventures, he would meet greatness–and not a few imitations–and come out the better for it.

Digory’s personal ascent towards greatness begins at a low point–when, despite Polly’s apprehension, he rings the bell in Charn and awakens the Empress Jadis. Full of himself and his own importance, he argues with Polly and makes himself more like his Uncle Andrew than he’d ever wanted to be. Digory is stunned and in awe of the beautiful and powerful woman his actions have conjured–and almost instantly regrets his foolish action.

He would live to regret it still more when Jadis returns to this world and offers a threat to Digory’s mother’s peace. And yet again he would regret his actions when they seem to stand in the way of receiving help for his mother from Aslan.

Standing in front of Aslan, Digory has a huge chance to make things right by admitting to his role in bringing Jadis into Narnia. He also has a great inducement to lie. Why would Aslan help Digory’s mother if Digory were to admit to doing something so awful? Digory wants to hide his role in the matter–and tries his hardest. But Aslan gives him opportunity after opportunity to tell the truth. And finally, the truth comes out.

Digory brought the witch to Narnia. Digory brought her into our world from Charn. Digory awakened her from her sleep in Charn. Digory hadn’t been enchanted when he made the decision to ring the bell. He’d made the decision in his right mind, willfully deciding to disregard his friend’s warning.

Digory had to ‘fess up to the truth. He had to make clear his culpability in the matter. And then, he was given the opportunity to make it right. Aslan sent him on a quest to find the fruit that would protect Narnia for hundreds of years. Digory could not bargain with the Lion. He had no chips with which to bargain. He was in the wrong and he must make it right. If his mother died, his mother died. He could not do wrong again–even for his mother’s gain.

Digory’s task is made even more difficult when he arrives in the garden to find that the witch has preceded him there. She tempts him first with personal greatness–claiming that if he were to eat the fruit, he would be great and they could rule together. Digory sees through this ruse. He has seen what aspirations of greatness have done to Uncle Andrew and to Jadis–and he has no desire for such a fate. But when Jadis brings his mother into the equation–offering him the opportunity to save his mother by forsaking his duty and breaking the rules–Digory is faced with an awful choice.

Seeking his mother’s well-being was a good motive. It wasn’t like Uncle Andrew’s or Jadis’s motives of personal greatness and gain. Yet, was the end–his mother’s well-being–enough to justify the means? Could he break the rules and consign the people of Narnia to a life of torture in exchange for his mother’s life? In doing so, he would be just like Andrew and Jadis, considering himself above the law and considering everyone else as mere tools to accomplish his own purposes. But in doing so, he might save his beloved mother? What was he to do?

Thinking of his mother, Digory realized that his mother wouldn’t like it. She wouldn’t like for her son to be a thief and a liar–even for her sake. And when the witch mentions Polly, Digory’s eyes are opened to the cruel heart behind the witch’s enticement. He refuses to yield, instead running boldly away from sin. And with that action, Digory achieved true greatness.

Digory’s greatness came, not in proclaiming himself as above the law, but in submitting himself to the law. His greatness came not in destroying others to meet his own gain, but in being willing to lose what he regarded most in the world (his mother) to do what was right. And as Digory died to himself, Aslan returned to him his greatest desire. Offering Digory an apple from the new tree, Aslan offered to Digory a reward for his obedience: his mother’s health.


Case Studies in Greatness: Aslan

We don’t meet Aslan until halfway through the book–and even then, we do not know Him by name. We know Him only by His actions. We know a voice, more beautiful than any other sound ever heard. We know a song, more beautiful than any other melody ever composed. We meet Aslan as a voice that can sing the world into existence.

Then, by the light which He Himself has created, we can finally see the Lion.

We see the Lion in contrast to Jadis, when Jadis’s blow glances off Him, bothering Him not in the least. Rather than using people for His own gain; we see Him going amongst the animals, choosing many for their own gain. While Jadis brought death to all creatures within her domain (even to the blades of grass), Aslan brings life to His domain–life beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. His chosen animals and trees and waters are not only living, but have souls. He gives them life, yes–but goes beyond to give them souls that they might love, think, speak. Where Jadis took everything she could from everyone, the Lion gives all that He has created to the creatures He has chosen.

The contrast between Aslan and Uncle Andrew also becomes apparent. Uncle Andrew’s first thought, in this new world where a torn crossbar grows into a new lamp-post, is to exploit it for his monetary gain. Aslan’s first action, after the creation of this marvelous world, is for its protection. He gathers a council to warn them of the entrance of evil into this world, He prepares a way by which the evil can be held off, and He states from the beginning that He intends for the worst effect of this evil to fall upon Himself.

Both Jadis and Uncle Andrew think themselves above the rules. But if anyone were above the rules, it would be Aslan. Surely the great power that created the entire world could break its rules–the very rules that He created. But Aslan does not break His rules, even when the rules mean that He must bear great pain. When Jadis ate the fruit of eternal youth (the fruit created at Aslan’s word), how easy would it have been for Aslan to have decided that the fruit would no longer bring eternal youth. But Aslan does not break His rules, any more than He would change His nature. Jadis will be forever young, and Aslan will suffer to make things right according to the rules which He has written.

Aslan is great because He is good. And if ever Aslan should cease to be good, His greatness would be diminished. He would be, not a great and benevolent king, but a petty and foolish ruler, such as Jadis and Andrew are. But thankfully, another aspect of Aslan’s greatness is His unchanging nature. He is good, He always was good, and He always will be good. And His goodness, His greatness, enlivens the entire world.


Case Studies in Greatness: Jadis

“And you could see at once, not only from her crown and robes, but from the flash of her eyes and the curve of her lips, that she was a great queen.”

Thus we are introduced to the woman who would haunt the remainder of the Chronicles. Jadis, the last queen of Charn. The White Witch of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, who styles herself Queen of Narnia and Empress of the Lone Islands, who know the deep magic from the dawn of time. The specter whom Nikabrik’s foul companions would seek to conjure up in Prince Caspian. Her later companion, the Lady of the Green Kirtle, would wreak havok on Caspian’s heir in The Silver Chair.

Jadis is great because she is quite literally larger-than-life. She towers over the children, over normal people, and even over the usually-quite-tall Uncle Andrew. She is great because she is powerful–able to demolish huge gates with the force of her will and to cause all living things to die with the Deplorable Word.

But ultimately, Jadis’s greatness is cruelty and destruction. In a power struggle with her sister, she considers it nothing to “[pour] out the blood of [her] armies like water” to meet her ends. And when even the death of her subjects was not enough to stop the sister, Jadis speaks the deplorable word to kill every living thing except herself. When the children protest of her killing so many innocents, Jadis proclaims: “Don’t you understand?…I was the Queen. They were my people. What else were they there for but to do my will?”

Like Uncle Andrew, Jadis feels that consideration for others and adherence to moral law are beneath her. “You must learn, child, that what would be wrong for you or for any of the common people is not wrong in a great Queen such as I.” Once in this world, she uses her power to manipulate Uncle Andrew, to throw Aunt Letty across the room, and to plunder the city of London. Yet she justified all this, for she “[was] the Empress Jadis.”

In Narnia, Jadis meets a being larger than her, with a power much greater. Her every word and action was destruction, but now she meets a lion who sings a world into existence. HE is huge, magical, and HE creates rather than destroying. “This is a terrible world,” she declares. “We must leave at once.”

When she is unable to escape to another world, she boldly throws a lamppost at the lion. It causes him no harm, which terrifies her. She has met a greatness that she has no power to harm. She cannot create–what’s more, she cannot destroy THIS power. Jadis’s greatness is exposed as a sham in the light of Aslan’s power.


Case Studies in Greatness: Uncle Andrew

Uncle Andrew is a magician. He’s done much experimentation and explored many mysteries to get to where he is, and he’s quite proud of his accomplishments.

What’s more, he’s quite proud of himself in general–even without accomplishments to back him up. He describes himself to Digory as a man “who possess[es] hidden wisdom.” Once away from the terror of Jadis, he begins to think himself a rather “distinguished-looking man”. “‘Andrew, my boy,’ he said to himself as he looked in the glass, ‘you’re a devilish well preserved fellow for your age.'” When he finds himself in Narnia (by no act of his own) and observing a miraculous creation event, he is still full of his own greatness–“Ho, ho! They laughed at my magic….I wonder what they’ll say now? I have discovered a world where everything is bursting with life and growth. Columbus, now, they talk about Columbus. But what was America to this?”

Ultimately, though, Uncle Andrew’s “greatness” (or at least his perceived greatness) is an excuse to do whatever he likes without regard for rules or relationship. Digory had this figured out by the second chapter. Uncle Andrew says “But of course you must understand that rules…however excellent they may be for little boys–and servants–and women–and even people in general, can’t possibly be expected to apply to profound students and great thinkers and sages…” After hearing Uncle Andrew’s monologue, Digory reflects: “All it means…is that he thinks he can do anything he likes to get anything he wants.”

Andrew selfishly regards himself as great, while taking liberties with the lives of others. Asked why he did not travel to the other world himself, Andrew answers: “Me? Me?…A man at my time of life, and in my state of health, to risk the shock and the dangers of being flung suddently into a different universe?” For him to take risks for his magic would be preposterous–but he has no qualms with sending Polly and Digory where he himself would not go.

In Uncle Andrews mind, greatness means being above the law. For him, greatness means having the right to do whatever he pleases, never mind the consequences to others.


The Point of The Magician’s Nephew

What is the point of The Magician’s Nephew? Why was it written?

Ostensibly, the answer to this question is found in the very first chapter, in the very first paragraph, in the second sentence: “It is a very important story because it shows how all the coming and going between our world and the land of Narnia first began.” Really, The Magician’s Nephew is just a way to fill in the missing puzzle piece–how Narnian’s and Earth-folk got mixed up together. Or at least, that’s what Lewis would have you think. He carries this pretense along to the very end, stating in the second to last paragraph of the book: “That was the beginning of all the comings and goings between Narnia and our world, which you can read of in other books.”

Obviously, I think that there’s something more to The Magician’s Nephew than simply being a stage-setting story.

Okay, okay then–what is the point of The Magician’s Nephew?

Actually, that’s a hard question to answer. But I think that maybe the point of The Magician’s Nephew, the main theme that ties it all together is greatness.