.jpg)
The Lion was pacing to and fro about that empty land and singing his new song. It was softer and more lilting than the song by which he had called up the stars and the sun; a gentle, rippling music. And as he walked and sang the valley grew green with grass. It spread out from the Lion like a pool. It ran up the sides of the little hills like a wave. In a few minutes it was creeping up the lower slopes of the distant mountains, making that young world every moment softer. The light wind could now be heard ruffling the grass. Soon there were other things besides grass. The higher slopes grew dark with heather. Patches of rougher and more bristling green appeared in the valley. CSL
All this time the Lion's song, and his stately prowl, to and fro, backwards and forwards, was going on. What was rather alarming was that at each turn he came a little nearer. Polly was finding the song more and more interesting because she thought she was beginning to see the connection between the music and the things that were happening. CSL
It didn't take long for me to be captivated by the beauty of Narnia's creation story. It's the best beginning of a world I've read... ever! Maybe it is the evolution of literature that makes the magic come alive more. But bringing life into existence with music... it simply doesn't get better than that. And this agnostic can say that without feeling like she is being at all condescending to other creation stories.
When a line of dark firs sprang up on a ridge about a hundred yards away she felt that they were connected with a series of deep, prolonged notes which the Lion had sung a second before. And when he burst into a rapid series of lighter notes she was not surprised to see primroses suddenly appearing in every direction. Thus, with an unspeakable thrill, she felt quite certain that all the things were coming (as she said) "out of the Lion's head." When you listened to his song you heard the things he was making up: when you looked round you, you saw them. This was so exciting that she had no time to be afraid. CSL
I am still drawn to get to the end of the collection. I haven't been really disappointed by the Chronicles of Narnia yet. Like I said, this one took a little while for the children to get to Narnia, so when they got there, and got their marching orders from Aslan... it required a flying horse for them to get what they needed. The story needed a speedy conclusion. So now I'm dreaming of Fledge...
And then, just as the beasts had burst out of the earth, there burst out from the shoulders of Fledge wings that spread and grew, larger than eagles', larger than swans', larger than angels' wings in church windows. The feathers shone chestnut colour and copper colour. He gave a great sweep with them and leaped into the air. CSL
This makes me want to dream, not about horse back riding, but horse back flying. I wish I could stay in the beauty of the created Narnia and quickly evolving creatures and landscape... but as has been in every book so far, there is always some darkness.
"But do not be cast down," said Aslan, still speaking to the Beasts. "Evil will come of that evil, but it is still a long way off, and I will see to it that the worst falls upon myself. In the meantime, let us take such order that for many hundred years yet this shall be a merry land in a merry world. And as Adam's race has done the harm, Adam's race shall help to heal it. CSL
It was in this book that I got the revelation that Aslan is not Jesus... Aslan is Creator. So I'm not stuck trying to fit Christian theology into this narrative. This narrative can float and navigate well without the rudder of Christianity. Maybe that is what is so captivating as I get to the end of the series. Aslan holds space for me in a separate world than that of Christianity's narrative. I still get to separate the whole masculine portrayal, but for the most part, it doesn't really do damage to the story. Aslan's masculinity isn't driving his identity. At least, not as I see the story and I am thankful for that.
What I give you now will bring joy. It will not, in your world, give endless life, but it will heal. CSL
I have one more book to read... "The Last Battle". This series started with a war and looks like it gets to end with a war. I guess that is just the portrait of life. Maybe because these books were written in the fifties and the whole of Europe was recovering from WW2. So I get to mix fantasy with reality. I guess I can't ask for much more. The books are written, not as an escape from life, but picture of life. Maybe that's okay.
Both the children were looking up into the Lion's face as he spoke these words. And all at once (they never knew exactly how it happened) the face seemed to be a sea of tossing gold in which they were floating, and such a sweetness and power rolled about them and over them and entered into them that they felt they had never really been happy or wise or good, or even alive and awake, before. And the memory of that moment stayed with them always, so that as long as they both lived, if ever they were sad or afraid or angry, the thought of all that golden goodness, and the feeling that it was still there, quite close, just round some corner or just behind some door, would come back and make them sure, deep down inside, that all was well. CSL
No comments:
Post a Comment