The Chronicles of Narnia

War and Peace. Beethoven’s Ninth. Casablanca. My Fair Lady. Krazy Kat. Names and titles bandied about in the ether and flurry of “Best Lists.” Yet for all of the whispers and reassurances of ultimate status, these masterworks are each explained in a sentence so that the next entry can be noted. Unsure of the difference between classic and musty tedium, we settle for the Big Hot New Thing that everyone’s talking about.

Yes, Moses is at the top of Mount Sinai, but we haven’t seen him in so long that we need some tangible reassurance. Give us shallow replacements that fill our moments, but drain our spirit. As long as it’s exciting and shiny, we don’t care! With that standard, the torrents of drivel gush in every conceivable cultural channel, overwhelming our senses so that we can no longer distinguish great from hot.

Even when we wish to nibble at some magnum opus, there is no sure guide to help us understand the context of its greatness. So, we wait until we can procure 15 Classical CDs for $1, wildly choosing any composer with half a reputation (start in the B’s and bounce from there) or malinger on courtroom thrillers until a friend thrusts Dante’s Inferno into our hands or go to the Louvre when we’re in Paris, because, I mean, everyone just has to see The Mona Lisa, right?

Still, it’s shocking to see supposed fans of an art form who have never nibbled at the greatest in that form. How many people “love to read,” yet have never savored Dostoyevsky? Music lovers who have never been to the symphony? Artists who can’t make time for the museum?

This often happens, not due to willful neglect, but hoary ignorance. Part of this department’s purpose is to resurrect these neglected monuments from the basement of the museums into the central exhibit hall for all to see, hear, feel and...dare we say, taste for themselves.

There’s a reason these works have stood the test of time. We’ll review, reconsider, and reexamine classic works, not as academic experts, but enthusiastic amateurs. If we do this right, then you might find yourself willing to try something old, or long, or black-and-white, then wonder why no one else is enjoying it.

“This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child. It is a very important story because it shows how all the comings and going between our own world and the land of Narnia first began.”

By C.S. Lewis, HarperTrophy, seven volumes
Reviewed by Nita K Curry
June 19, 2000

We’ve all been there. Children sneaking about trying to find out what is behind this door, what lies in that nook, what is that person doing over there? And so, this too, is how the Chronicles of Narnia begin. Children being mischievous, but instead of the usual, they stumble into adventures only you and I can dream about. . .the beginning of a world. The world of Narnia.

The story begins with Digory and Polly becoming eyewitnesses to Aslan the Lion speaking all (and I literally mean all) into existence. Once all is in place, Digory and Polly become a part of the history of this magical existence in all its glory and treachery! Each subsequent book interweaves the modern lives of various young adventurers into the world of Narnia as this magical, mystical world matures. Imagine stepping into a world where you can experience adventures and speak to its creator face to face, yet when you step back into your own world not a second has passed. So is the time difference between our world and Narnia. A day is as a thousand years.

These children’s books are infectious. Once you begin reading one, you will continue on with the saga until the end of the world in the seventh volume! But before you begin, I must warn you that some of these adventures will be forever burned into your mind, as they are mine.

One of these impressive incidents was when Aslan performs a beautiful and noble deed by sacrificing himself for the freedom of a rebellious boy who wouldn’t listen to others. Lewis does an incredible job of projecting the solemnity of the occasion as Aslan is put upon the block to be put to death. While reading this, I immediately became a spectator with the horrified children as they witnessed this remarkable act. I too, felt the loss and sadness they experienced because I now knew what it was like to watch the crucifixion of Jesus. Through the powerful allegorical description of Aslan the Lion, I was given a new mental and emotional tie-in with Christ’s ultimate sacrifice.

The power of this scene is even more amazing if you know a little bit about C.S. (Jack) Lewis. He was born in 1898 in Belfast, Ireland. At the age of ten, his mother died of cancer and he and his brother were sent to school in England. Around the age of fifteen, Lewis abandoned his childhood Christian faith. It wasn’t until college, war, and a professorship that he eventually made his way back to Christ. And it wasn’t instantaneous. In 1929, he as stated in his writings, “In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed. . .”

Still, he didn’t become a Christian until two years later. It occurred like this: One evening in September, Lewis had a long talk on Christianity with J.R.R. Tolkien (a devout Roman Catholic) and Hugo Dyson. That evening’s discussion was important in bringing about the following day’s event. “When we (Warnie, Lewis’s brother, and himself) set out by motorcycle to the Whipsnade Zoo I did not believe that Jesus Christ was the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did.’” (From Surprised, written by his wife Joy) It is astonishing how a man who spent 16 years of his life away from God and 14 years refusing to admit there was one could write such an emotional scene. His fervency to express God’s ways in these books overcame the years of absence from Him.

All in all, I enjoyed the seven volumes of the Chronicles of Narnia. Although they are meant for children and the scenes are written for their level, adults too can relish these adventures. Without ruining the finale for you, if you want to know what the rapture will be like, you might read Lewis’ remarkable job of describing the end of the Narnian world. See you there!

When Nita K. Curry hears her husband complain about the grocery bill being too high, she happily complies the next time by no longer buying what he likes to eat. Then he decides the grocery bill isn’t that much after all.