A Year with Aslan: Daily Reflections from The Chronicles of Narnia Read online

  “But you will be there yourself, Aslan.”

  “I can give you no promise of that,” answered the Lion. And he continued giving Peter his instructions.

  —The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

  What must Peter be feeling to hear that not only must he lead a battle, he might be leading it on his own? Have you ever felt pushed into a responsibility for which you did not feel ready? If so, what was the outcome?

  JULY 3

  The Talking Horse

  TWO CALORMENES were driving a horse which was harnessed to a log. Just as the King reached them, the log got stuck in a bad muddy place.

  “Get on, son of sloth! Pull, you lazy pig!” cried the Calormenes, cracking their whips. The horse was already straining himself as hard as he could; his eyes were red and he was covered with foam.

  “Work, lazy brute,” shouted one of the Calormenes: and as he spoke he struck the horse savagely with his whip. It was then that the really dreadful thing happened.

  Up till now Tirian had taken it for granted that the horses which the Calormenes were driving were their own horses; dumb, witless animals like the horses of our own world. And though he hated to see even a dumb horse overdriven, he was of course thinking more about the murder of the Trees. It had never crossed his mind that anyone would dare to harness one of the free Talking Horses of Narnia, much less to use a whip on it. But as that savage blow fell the horse reared up and said, half screaming:

  “Fool and tyrant! Do you not see I am doing all I can?”

  When Tirian knew that the Horse was one of his own Narnians, there came over him and over Jewel such a rage that they did not know what they were doing. The King’s sword went up, the Unicorn’s horn went down. They rushed forward together. Next moment both the Calormenes lay dead, the one beheaded by Tirian’s sword and the other gored through the heart by Jewel’s horn.

  —The Last Battle

  Why is enslaving a Talking Beast so much worse than enslaving a Calormene horse? Is it worthy of death?

  JULY 4

  If Aslan Is Not Aslan

  JEWEL,” SAID THE KING. “We have done a dreadful deed.”

  “We were sorely provoked,” said Jewel.

  “But to leap on them unawares—without defying them—while they were unarmed—faugh! We are two murderers, Jewel. I am dishonored forever.”

  Jewel drooped his head. He too was ashamed.

  “And then,” said the King, “the Horse said it was by Aslan’s orders. The Rat said the same. They all say Aslan is here. How if it were true?”

  “But, Sire, how could Aslan be commanding such dreadful things?”

  “He is not a tame lion,” said Tirian. “How should we know what he would do? We, who are murderers. Jewel, I will go back. I will give up my sword and put myself in the hands of these Calormenes and ask that they bring me before Aslan. Let him do justice on me.”

  “You will go to your death, then,” said Jewel.

  “Do you think I care if Aslan dooms me to death?” said the King. “That would be nothing, nothing at all. Would it not be better to be dead than to have this horrible fear that Aslan has come and is not like the Aslan we have believed in and longed for? It is as if the sun rose one day and were a black sun.”

  “I know,” said Jewel. “Or as if you drank water and it were dry water. You are in the right, Sire. This is the end of all things. Let us go and give ourselves up.”

  “There is no need for both of us to go.”

  “If ever we loved one another, let me go with you now,” said the Unicorn. “If you are dead and if Aslan is not Aslan, what life is left for me?”

  —The Last Battle

  Why is it so crushing to the King and Jewel to believe Aslan is commanding dreadful things such as the enslavement of Talking Horses? Have you ever felt as disappointed by someone you revered?

  JULY 5

  The Witch and Aslan

  A FEW MINUTES LATER the Witch herself walked out on to the top of the hill and came straight across and stood before Aslan. The three children who had not seen her before felt shudders running down their backs at the sight of her face; and there were low growls among all the animals present. Though it was bright sunshine everyone felt suddenly cold. The only two people present who seemed to be quite at their ease were Aslan and the Witch herself. It was the oddest thing to see those two faces—the golden face and the dead-white face—so close together. Not that the Witch looked Aslan exactly in his eyes; Mrs. Beaver particularly noticed this.

  —The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

  Why can’t the Witch look Aslan in the eye? When have you not been able to meet someone’s eyes? What was the reason?

  JULY 6

  Reepicheep Goes Overboard

  [A]T THAT MOMENT two sounds were heard. One was a plop. The other was a voice from the fighting-top shouting, “Man overboard!” Then everyone was busy. Some of the sailors hurried aloft to take in the sail; others hurried below to get to the oars; and Rhince, who was on duty on the poop, began to put the helm hard over so as to come round and back to the man who had gone overboard. But by now everyone knew that it wasn’t strictly a man. It was Reepicheep.

  “Drat that mouse!” said Drinian. “It’s more trouble than all the rest of the ship’s company put together. If there is any scrape to be got into, in it will get! It ought to be put in irons—keel-hauled—marooned—have its whiskers cut off. Can anyone see the little blighter?”

  All this didn’t mean that Drinian really disliked Reepicheep. On the contrary he liked him very much and was therefore frightened about him, and being frightened put him in a bad temper—just as your mother is much angrier with you for running out into the road in front of a car than a stranger would be.

  —The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

  Have you ever responded as Drinian does when someone you cared for put themselves into danger? From what does such anger stem?

  JULY 7

  The Island of Dreams

  SUDDENLY, FROM SOMEWHERE— no one’s sense of direction was very clear by now—there came a cry, either of some inhuman voice or else a voice of one in such extremity of terror that he had almost lost his humanity. . . .

  “Mercy!” cried the voice. “Mercy! Even if you are only one more dream, have mercy. Take me on board. Take me, even if you strike me dead. But in the name of all mercies do not fade away and leave me in this horrible land.”. . .

  Several [sailors] crowded to the port bulwark with ropes and one, leaning far out over the side, held the torch. A wild, white face appeared in the blackness of the water, and then, after some scrambling and pulling, a dozen friendly hands had heaved the stranger on board.

  Edmund thought he had never seen a wilder-looking man. Though he did not otherwise look very old, his hair was an untidy mop of white, his face was thin and drawn and, for clothing, only a few wet rags hung about him. But what one mainly noticed were his eyes, which were so widely opened that he seemed to have no eyelids at all, and stared as if in an agony of pure fear. The moment his feet reached the deck he said:

  “Fly! Fly! About with your ship and fly! Row, row, row for your lives away from this accursed shore.”

  “Compose yourself,” said Reepicheep, “and tell us what the danger is. We are not used to flying.”

  The stranger started horribly at the voice of the Mouse, which he had not noticed before.

  “Nevertheless you will fly from here,” he gasped. “This is the Island where Dreams come true.”

  “That’s the island I’ve been looking for this long time,” said one of the sailors. “I reckoned I’d find I was married to Nancy if we landed here.”

  “And I’d find Tom alive again,” said another.

  “Fools!” said the man, stamping his foot with rage. “That is the sort of talk that brought me here, and I’d better have been drowned or never born. Do you hear what I say? This is where dreams—dreams, do you understand—come to life, come real. Not daydreams: dreams.�
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  There was about half a minute’s silence and then, with a great clatter of armor, the whole crew were tumbling down the main hatch as quick as they could and flinging themselves on the oars to row as they had never rowed before; and Drinian was swinging round the tiller, and the boatswain was giving out the quickest stroke that had ever been heard at sea. For it had taken everyone just that half-minute to remember certain dreams they had had—dreams that make you afraid of going to sleep again—and to realize what it would mean to land on a country where dreams come true.

  —The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

  Would you have been tempted by the thought of your dreams coming to life just as the stranger was? What dream (or daydream) in particular?

  JULY 8

  Never Taunt a Man

  YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS needs not to be told,” said King Lune [to Rabadash], “that by the law of nations as well as by all reasons of prudent policy, we have as good right to your head as ever one mortal man had against another. Nevertheless, in consideration of your youth and the ill nurture, devoid of all gentilesse and courtesy, which you have doubtless had in the land of slaves and tyrants, we are disposed to set you free, unharmed, on these conditions: first, that—”

  “Curse you for a barbarian dog!” spluttered Rabadash. “Do you think I will even hear your conditions? Faugh! You talk very largely of nurture and I know not what. It’s easy, to a man in chains, ha! Take off these vile bonds, give me a sword, and let any of you who dares then debate with me.”

  Nearly all the lords sprang to their feet, and Corin shouted:

  “Father! Can I box him? Please.”

  “Peace! Your Majesties! My Lords!” said King Lune. “Have we no more gravity among us than to be so chafed by the taunt of a pajock? Sit down, Corin, or shalt leave the table. I ask your Highness again, to hear our conditions.”

  “I hear no conditions from barbarians and sorcerers,” said Rabadash. “Not one of you dare touch a hair of my head. Every insult you have heaped on me shall be paid with oceans of Narnian and Archenlandish blood. Terrible shall the vengeance of the Tisroc be: even now. But kill me, and the burnings and torturings in these northern lands shall become a tale to frighten the world a thousand years hence. Beware! Beware! Beware! The bolt of Tash falls from above!”

  “Does it ever get caught on a hook halfway?” asked Corin.

  “Shame, Corin,” said the King. “Never taunt a man save when he is stronger than you: then, as you please.”

  —The Horse and His Boy

  How hard would it be for you to listen to Rabadash’s words and not respond in kind? What principle underlies the King’s direction to Corin, never to taunt a man unless he is stronger than you?

  JULY 9

  A Clever Defense

  BRING OUT THAT CREATURE,” said Aslan. One of the Elephants lifted Uncle Andrew in its trunk and laid him at the Lion’s feet. He was too frightened to move.

  “Please, Aslan,” said Polly, “could you say something to—to unfrighten him? And then could you say something to prevent him from ever coming back here again?”

  “Do you think he wants to?” said Aslan.

  “Well, Aslan,” said Polly, “he might send someone else. He’s so excited about the bar off the lamp-post growing into a lamp-post tree and he thinks—”

  “He thinks great folly, child,” said Aslan. “This world is bursting with life for these few days because the song with which I called it into life still hangs in the air and rumbles in the ground. It will not be so for long. But I cannot tell that to this old sinner, and I cannot comfort him either; he has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would hear only growlings and roarings. Oh, Adam’s sons, how cleverly you defend yourselves against all that might do you good! But I will give him the only gift he is still able to receive.”

  He bowed his great head rather sadly, and breathed into the Magician’s terrified face. “Sleep,” he said. “Sleep and be separated for some few hours from all the torments you have devised for yourself.” Uncle Andrew immediately rolled over with closed eyes and began breathing peacefully.

  —The Magician’s Nephew

  How does it affect your thinking to see Uncle Andrew’s actions called a defense? What defenses do you put up against things in your life that might do you good?

  JULY 10

  Narnians to the Rescue

  [JILL] LEANED AS FAR OUT of the hole as she could, and yelled to the dancers.

  “Help! Help! We’re buried in the hill. Come and dig us out.”

  The Narnians, who had not even noticed the little hole in the hillside, were of course very surprised, and looked about in several wrong directions before they found out where the voice was coming from. But when they caught sight of Jill they all came running toward her, and as many as could scrambled up the bank, and a dozen or more hands were stretched up to help her. And Jill caught hold of them and thus got out of the hole and came slithering down the bank head first, and then picked herself up and said:

  “Oh, do go and dig the others out. There are three others, besides the horses. And one of them is Prince Rilian.”

  She was already in the middle of a crowd when she said this, for besides the dancers all sorts of people who had been watching the dance, and whom she had not seen at first, came running up. Squirrels came out of the trees in showers, and so did Owls. Hedgehogs came waddling as fast as their short legs would carry them. Bears and Badgers followed at a slower pace. A great Panther, twitching its tail in excitement, was the last to join the party.

  But as soon as they understood what Jill was saying, they all became active. “Pick and shovel, boys, pick and shovel. Off for our tools!” said the Dwarfs, and dashed away into the woods at top speed. “Wake up some Moles, they’re the chaps for digging. They’re quite as good as Dwarfs,” said a voice. “What was that she said about Prince Rilian?” said another. “Hush!” said the Panther. “The poor child’s crazed, and no wonder after being lost inside the hill. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” “That’s right,” said an old Bear. “Why, she said Prince Rilian was a horse!”—“No, she didn’t,” said a Squirrel, very pert. “Yes, she did,” said another Squirrel, even perter.

  “It’s quite t-t-t-true. D-d-don’t be so silly,” said Jill. She spoke like that because her teeth were now chattering with the cold.

  Immediately one of the Dryads flung round her a furry cloak which some Dwarf had dropped when he rushed to fetch his mining tools, and an obliging Faun trotted off among the trees to a place where Jill could see firelight in the mouth of a cave, to get her a hot drink.

  —The Silver Chair

  What does it say about Narnia that everyone is so quick to jump to Jill’s help, without even understanding who she is and how she has gotten in this situation? How might this same scenario have played out in our world?

  JULY 11

  Why Can’t We See Aslan Properly?

  [THE APE SAID,] “Now attend to me. I want—I mean, Aslan wants—some more nuts. These you’ve brought aren’t anything like enough. You must bring some more, do you hear? Twice as many. And they’ve got to be here by sunset tomorrow, and there mustn’t be any bad ones or any small ones among them.”

  A murmur of dismay ran through the other squirrels, and the Head Squirrel plucked up courage to say:

  “Please, would Aslan himself speak to us about it? If we might be allowed to see him—”

  “Well, you won’t,” said the Ape. “He may be very kind (though it’s a lot more than most of you deserve) and come out for a few minutes tonight. Then you can all have a look at him. But he will not have you all crowding round him and pestering him with questions. Anything you want to say to him will be passed on through me: if I think it’s worth bothering him about. In the meantime all you squirrels had better go and see about the nuts. And make sure they are here by tomorrow evening or, my word! you’ll catch it!”

  The poor squirrels all scampered away as if a dog were after
them. This new order was terrible news for them. The nuts they had carefully hoarded for the winter had nearly all been eaten by now; and of the few that were left they had already given the Ape far more than they could spare.

  Then a deep voice—it belonged to a great tusked and shaggy Boar—spoke from another part of the crowd.

  “But why can’t we see Aslan properly and talk to him?” it said. “When he used to appear in Narnia in the old days everyone could talk to him face to face.”

  “Don’t you believe it,” said the Ape. “And even if it was true, times have changed. Aslan says he’s been far too soft with you before, do you see? Well, he isn’t going to be soft any more. He’s going to lick you into shape this time. He’ll teach you to think he’s a tame lion!”

  A low moaning and whimpering was heard among the Beasts; and after that, a dead silence which was more miserable still.

  “And now there’s another thing you got to learn,” said the Ape. “I hear some of you are saying I’m an Ape. Well, I’m not. I’m a Man. If I look like an Ape, that’s because I’m so very old: hundreds and hundreds of years old. And it’s because I’m so old that I’m so wise. And it’s because I’m so wise that I’m the only one Aslan is ever going to speak to. He can’t be bothered talking to a lot of stupid animals. He’ll tell me what you’ve got to do, and I’ll tell the rest of you. And take my advice, and see you do it in double quick time, for he doesn’t mean to stand any nonsense.”

  —The Last Battle

  Why do the animals want to speak face to face with Aslan? Why are they reluctant to challenge the Ape further? What are the dangers of receiving information secondhand?

  JULY 12

  The Wonderful Mystery

  HAVE NONE OF YOU guessed where we are?” said Peter.

  “Go on, go on,” said Lucy. “I’ve felt for hours that there was some wonderful mystery hanging over this place.”