Thoughts for the journey

[PrinceOfTheWest]

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader has long been one of my favorite of the Chronicles. A recent re-reading got me thinking about several aspects that I'd never considered before. Even though Lewis did not write the stories as allegories or even morality tales, it is still worthwhile to examine what his illuminated imagination came up with. I came up with some questions that occurred to me and thought I'd throw them out there for comment.

Again, there are no wrong answers, and no "gotchas" - though I'd encourage you to know your Lewis! We've got some serious scholars reading, so if you have to scurry back to your tattered volume - well, so much the better :D. And if anyone else has thoughts or wants to kick in some questions of their own, that would be great! Here we go:



What might explain the upsurge of the slave trade - so alien to Narnian principles - in their province of the Lone Islands? Any thoughts on how that might transfer to our own spiritual and internal life? What kind of man was Gumpas, and what kind of house did he run? Could we all speak of a "Gumpas" within each of us? If so, what can we do to keep him in check?
The pool on Deathwater Island had peculiar properties. Once the voyagers discovered it, what character traits emerged with frightening swiftness? What might have caused Caspian to respond as he did? Edmund? What did it take to "shake them out of it"? What clear and immediate lesson were they missing?
On Dragon Island, Eustace is described as "Sleeping on a dragon's hoard, with greedy, dragonish thoughts in his heart..." What do you think Lewis meant by "dragonish thoughts"? (hint - if you have a copy of Pilgrim's Regress, look up Book 10 Chapter VIII.) How does the change in Eustace's outward appearance change his relationship with the Dawn Treader crewmates? Is it really that much of a change? Why might Lewis have Aslan finally "un-dragon" Eustace?
How 'bout that Reepicheep? What's your verdict: fighter, or lover? He carries his sword everywhere, but does he ever use the edge? Even in circumstances that might seem to warrant it, what does he do? What role does he seem to play in the Dawn Treader's crew? What finally happens to his sword? In our spiritual battle here on earth, do each of us have an equivalent to Reep's sword? What might that be?
On Ramandu's Island, Eustace makes the comment, "In our world, a star is a huge ball of flaming gas." Ramandu corrects him, saying, "Even in your world...that is not what a star is, but what it is made of." What lesson do you think the classically trained Lewis was trying to get across here?
Near the end of the journey, Caspian assembles the crew to announce he is going to Aslan's country with Reepicheep. Is this a bad goal? Why does the crew correct him? Are their arguments legitimate? Are there times and circumstances in our own life when we may have to turn back from a great, immediate good to return to our mundane duties?

[inkspot]

What might explain the upsurge of the slave trade - so alien to Narnian principles - in their province of the Lone Islands?
Because they were influenced by the Calormenes.
And Lewis meant the Calormenes to be Muslims.
This was a prophecy that dates back to Isaac and Ishmael.
And it relates to the coming end of the world.
Oh, no, wait, I meant to post this over in the politics thread.
Excuse me ... :o
Just kidding! Thought I would throw this out there to see if WHB and Johan would jump in and save me from myself! :p

[Johan 72109]

Because they were influenced by the Calormenes.
And Lewis meant the Calormenes to be Muslims.
This was a prophecy that dates back to Isaac and Ishmael.
And it relates to the coming end of the world.
Oh, no, wait, I meant to post this over in the politics thread.
Excuse me ...
Just kidding! Thought I would throw this out there to see if WHB and Johan would jump in and save me from myself!

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST SAID THAT!!! :mad: HUMANS ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR OWN ACTIONS!!! RANT! WHINE! WHINGE! MOAN! COMPLAIN! :mad:

Oh... Politics thread, yeah... :o

Sorry, just wanted to save you from yourself... :p

[PrinceOfTheWest]

Inkspot! You baaaad girl! Here I meant this to be a serious thread, and you're halfway to dufferdom already!

{thump...thump...thump}

Can anyone retrieve this thread from an ignomious end?

[inkspot]

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Let me try again, regarding Reepicheep, everyone's favorite. I cannot answer your questions about his sword because I don't have the book right at hand, but I will say this about his character: he is like a saint in our world, someone dirven by spiritual desires that the rest of us can vaguely understand, but wouldn't dream of letting interfere with our enjoyment of life. When someone gets intensely spiritual, we draw away, we may believe what they say is true, but it makes them freaky and uncomfortable to be around.

Everyone loved Reep, but he also got on everyone's nerves. The sailors thought he was fool-hardy in "Adventure of the Dark Island," Caspian found him trying -- at one point he demanded, "Will no one silence that Mouse?!" And they all lived in fear of his charging onto the field of honor at the slightest provocation and getting them into an altercation they couldn't win.

Our saints today, they do crazy stuff in the name of God, and while we can believe they are holy, we don't want them for best friends.

[unleavened]

What might explain the upsurge of the slave trade - so alien to Narnian principles - in their province of the Lone Islands? Any thoughts on how that might transfer to our own spiritual and internal life? What kind of man was Gumpas, and what kind of house did he run? Could we all speak of a "Gumpas" within each of us? If so, what can we do to keep him in check?
I see the incident as a warning - don't be caught off gaurd! The people of the lone islands got greedy in the absence of the king. They grew lazy. Slave trade is an easy way to get money without much work. How do we keep our tendencies to become lazy and greedy in check? Stay active in your relationship with God.

Just so you all know, I'm not saying Caspian represents God in this case. But God can use people to give us a wake up call too.

[PrinceOfTheWest]

Very insightful, unleavened! As I was pondering your post, especially in light of the Gospel from Mass last week (Matthew 25 - the parable of the talents), I began to see even more in the "Scouring of the Lone Islands" than I had before!

Consider Gumpas - governor of a province, but long out of touch with the mother country. He rules in the King's name, but mostly uses that as a cover for doing what he wants. Maybe he considers his province neglected by the King - after all, it's been a very long time since the King has shown his face - so he starts making decisions that seem wise to him. His province is in close proximity to a wealthy and powerful country which could be a source of prosperity and comfort, at least for him. All he has to do is overlook some of his own country's laws, and vóila! He's making money, as are many of his supporters, and (to some degree) the entire province. Things look good, especially if one makes sure to avoid certain districts of the capital, where distasteful things happen.

But then, unexpectedly, the King in whose name Gumpas rules arrives. He had had warning, had he been willing to heed it (the Dawn Treader sailing by, the clamor in the town). But he didn't, and suddenly the business which had so consumed him has been thrown about the room and he is on his knees before a stern and demanding King whom he has never met. The King is demanding an accounting, but won't listen to all the excuses he has to provide. The King keeps referring back to the ancient laws and customs of the country - those things under which the governorship exists. When Gumpas distances himself from the laws, the King abruptly removes him from his office and installs a steward who will be faithful. Gumpas and his cronies are cast into the outer darkness, where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth. (Or, as Lord Bern puts it so poetically, "The question before us is whether you and the rest of the rabble will leave without a flogging, or with one.")

But then - am I not governor of a province, i.e. my own life? Am I not ruling in the King's name and (supposedly) by His law? Do I not live in proximity to a wealthy, powerful, and seductive kingdom with different laws (the Kingdom of This World?) Has it not been a long time since the King has shown His face? In what ways am I making side deals with the alien kingdom to secure my own postion and comfort? How would I welcome the King if He were to appear in my domains? Would I stand and give Him full access to the "books" of my life? Or would I attempt to brush Him off, hoping He'd go away so I could get back to my business? How right you are, unleavened! We must invite the King in, study His laws with care, and follow them with diligence.

[unleavened]

Well put, Prince!

[waterhogboy]

You iz norrrrrty Inky - and supposed to be the responsible adult!! tut tut tut.....

[Parthian King]

The stewardship issue certainly finds overlap in Tolkien. Denethor also insulted Aragorn, who allowed the dynamic of what might be called "divine gravity" to work things out. That gravity catches up with us all. We should pray by His mercy it manifests itself in this life rather than the next.

[PrinceOfTheWest]

Time for me to grapple with my own questions. Inkspot, that is a very good insight about Reepicheep. I was going to say how he represents the heroic in all of us, the portion of us that is never content to settle for the ordinary. We hear about the conscience (though not enough, I'll warrant) - that part of our makeup that torments us when we do wrong. I'd contend that there is also a "super-conscience", if you will - a call put within us to reach beyond this world. Reep seems to represent that to the otherwise exclusively human crew of the Dawn Treader. He is the first to seek a challenge, to call the others out of their fear and reticence. It is he who challenges the crew to brave the ominous shadow of Dark Island, thus effecting the rescue of Lord Rhoop. Though he seems prickly and martial, ever jealous of his honor, there is no machismo about him. He will set aside matters of honor for the "convenience of a lady", and always accepts the rulings of proper authority. Notice that he never uses the edge of his sword, despite all the dangers and trials they go through! He is the one with the great vision, to come to the very end of the world. Just before attaining it, he casts aside his precious sword without a second thought - "I shall need it no more!"

I'm convinced that we all have such a heroic call within us, and the Enemy knows it. Why else would he spend so much time trying to dull and silence it with nonstop entertainment and distraction? It is in the silent times, the alone times, that we can quiet ourselves enough to hear this voice and respond to it. In my youth, I had plenty of opportunity for solitude, and in those times characters like Tirian, Reepicheep, and Aragorn loomed large in my imagination. I have usually fallen short of those high ideals, but they have always been there, calling me on.

Which brings me back to Inkspot's insight. Are not the great saints given to us to act in the same capacity within the body of Christ? Does it not take a Mother Theresa or Francis Schaeffer to live a life of complete dedication, just to show us that it can be done? Sure, we may like to keep a comfortable distance, but I know in my case, when I get whiny about how hard my life is, I can usually recall the life of some saint who lived with more dedication in more difficult circumstances.

So, let us all listen to the voice of the heroic within, and be Reepicheeps one to another!

[onlymystory]

As far as Caspian turning back, I don't think the greater good would have been continuing with Reepicheep but returning to Narnia. I think the sailors were absolutely right to tell Caspian that he had to go back to Narnia. I think Danielle in Ever After says it well when she tells the prince that he was born to privilege and with that comes specific obligation. Caspian has a responsiblity to his people, if he wants to enjoy the good parts in life by getting to sail away for a year, he needs to realize he has to accept his duty as king.

[unleavened]

I'm not sure I agree that we all have a hero in us. God makes us good and selflessly couragous, but apart from him we are snivling cowards, though we ocasionally engage in heroic activity for self gloriflication.

[DropkickJake]

I think that perhaps Caspian need to stay behind has to do with God's plan for us on earth. Aslan needed Caspian to serve men as their king, to look after his kingdom. Each of us have RESPONSIBILITIES while we're here, and they arent something that we can neglect.

Perhaps Reep's sword is symbollic of a mask. We all wear mask's infront of people, we all act different. Perhaps Reep tossing his sword was saying that he could be himself in the presence of the Lord.

[Aslan the Wise one]

I agree with you some what good thoughts some of this stuff I never thought of be for, thinkx for oping the door.

[Parthian King]

I was going to start another thread, but after taking another look at this one (especially the title), I reconsidered and decided it was just as good to keep this one going. I have some thoughts on Dawn Treader, and wondered if anyone else might be interested in picking things up again where they were left off. I consider it a shame that so few discussion threads are going about this wonderful book.

First, I have always loved The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and if anyone were to ask me before, I would have said it was my favorite of the series. I recently re-read it, and I am still tempted to say so, even though Silver Chair is a wonderful read full of spiritual insight. Comparing those two, in fact, makes for enlightening stuff. More on that later.

I found something that I have been itching to share concerning the close of DT, but before I do that I wanted to make some general remarks and see if anyone bites.

I think that DT is the most episodic of the series, with the time in Narnia beginning after the sea voyage had begun, and being divided, quite nearly chapter to chapter, between semi-distinct episodes that together form the story. One might say each island visited forms an episode, but that gets messy since the beginning is a bit more involved with the Lone Islands episode, and a few things happen in open sea (like the attack of the Sea Serpent) with which no island visit is directly associated. In any case, more than usual, the chapters stand apart from each other. Yet the story hangs together quite well, and one never gets the feeling that it is disjointed ("episodic," in fact, is a pretty harsh description that can be pinned on poorly made movies and books). What is the cohesion in the story that makes it work so well?

Well, for one thing the character development is just great. Between Reepicheep and Eustace, not to mention some wonderful stuff with Caspian that goes well beyond the book that bears his name, there's a lot to find there. But I think it goes deeper than that. I think the binding theme to DT is one that has been of enduring importance for Christian life and even history through the centuries, but has fallen out of vogue of late, and that is the theme of pilgrimmage. In recent years this concept (or rather, spiritual truth) has become much more important to me. Sometime back, wearied by the battle, I was complaining a bit about all the fight and I felt impressed in the Lord that I was selling my spiritual walk short by only considering the realities I faced through the lens of spiritual warfare (which is terribly in vogue today). Now, don't get me wrong, I think spiritual warfare is critically important as a spiritual metaphor, and Lewis uses it extensively (LWW; PC; and SC, though I would contend this one also uses quest quite a bit, making it quite Tolkienesque in that regard; and of course LB). I won't go on about Lewis' intent, though with a mind as sharp as his I cannot believe much was lost on him once he got into it. Yet I think that Lewis' point in DT is that life is a pilgrimmage toward "Aslan's Land," and as such consists of a series of lessons that never seems as if it will end, but is in fact finite. In DT this is illustrated by visits to island after island, this one with mystery, that one with danger, here horror, there humor, another with ugliness, another with beauty, but all with something to teach us in our way. In the end, the earth is flat and does end, and with it both the journey and the lessons as we reach Aslan's Land; we will not always be pupils as we are now--we will see His face one day.

Well, I've gone on. I would love for some feedback and a picking up of Prince of the West's insightful questions.

[lionessofgod]

He was most likely having "dragonish thoughts" because maybe he was thinking about dragons, because of course he was in a dragon's cave.

[PrinceOfTheWest]

My thought is that Eustace became a dragon because that was what he truly was. Notice how rude he is to others - if someone on this forum were to do that, we'd call it "flaming". He's totally self-centered and greedy, and isn't willing to give anything. He just wants to take, take, take. Read carefully about his first reaction when he learns he's a dragon: now he can pay everyone back! But then he realizes how cut off he is from human company. The irony is that it really isn't a change! Eustace Clarence, by his attitudes and disposition, was already cut off from human company - the lowest cabin boy on the Dawn Treader could have told him that! He just didn't realize it until he looked at his scaly hide and bat wings. Just as he didn't realize he was had taken dragon form until he looked into the mirror of the pool, likewise he never realized his dragonish heart until he looked into the mirror of his new form.

This is interesting because it illustrates how Christ sometimes ministers to us. Looking at the Dragon Island episode and asking the question, "When did Aslan start ministering to Eustace?", one might be tempted to respond, "When He showed up in his dream, of course." But no - Aslan permitted Eustace to undergo hardship, to reap what he had sown and feed on that bitter grain for a while, for his own good. Eustace learned more as a dragon than he ever would have as a boy (Aslan did the same thing to Rabadash in Horse). Then, once he'd learned what he needed, Aslan restored him to himself to give him another chance to practice his lessons. Likewise, in my life, often I moan and wail when difficulty comes about - "What did I do to deserve this? Why are things so hard? Don't you love me, God?" But usually, looking back on those times, I see that I was being given a chance to learn things about myself and about God that I wasn't going to learn any other way.

This dovetails neatly with Parthian King's point about the pilgrimage and what we can learn there. Many of us moderns, particularly we Americans, have little patience for the journey. Travel time is "wasted" time (unless we "redeem" it somehow by doing business on our cell phones or using some other distraction), and we want to get it over with quickly so we can get to our destination and get about our business. The idea that the journey itself is the business is alien to our modern minds.

Yet that is often the message of classic Christianity. I had some friends who went to Spain to travel el Camino de Santiago de Compostela - an ancient pilgrimage route where the travel itself is the devotional, and pilgrims linger at ancient waystops to pray and learn. (I can't describe it fully here, but you can follow this link (http://www.santiago-compostela.net/) to learn more.) Point being that Parthian King is right - whether it was a local pilgrimage or a journey to Jerusalem, the path of the pilgrim was seen as a small model of our entire lives. This also ties in with an important lesson that God taught me years ago. For a long time I lived with great concern for what I was doing for God, how effective and useful I was in His service. I kept getting frustrated at all the delays and problems I had, thinking they were hindering my work. Slowly I began to realize that He wasn't that interested in what I could do for Him - if He really wanted something done, He could do it Himself. But what He did want to do is change me - make me a different person. That's what the struggles of the pilgrimage were about - and, for that matter, what the Voyage of the Dawn Treader was all about. Do you imagine that those who returned to Narnia were ever the same? What kind of king do you think Caspian made, after he had drunk the waters of the Last Sea and seen the birds fly out of the rising sun? I think he'd be just the kind of king Narnia would need to heal after centuries of alien domination - particularly because he was of the alien race.

So let us not grow impatient! Let us accept the pilgrimage placed before us - by all means fighting the battles we must along the way, but not growing impatient with our lives or ourselves when it just seems we're sailing into nothingness. We are always between the paws of Aslan, and He is doing in our lives what He will.

[DeplorableWord]

I have long been thinking about Prince's fifth question, when Ramandu says that stars are not large balls of flaming gas, only what they are made of.

It appears that I simply cannot come up with a good explanation for what this could mean... I can barely come up with a bad explanation!

Could it possibly be that stars have such a bigger purpose? They're not just circles of hot gas, they can direct our paths (not like astrology, but like how here, Polaris points us North)? That is a horrible explanation and I am very sorry!

Is it that Eustace talks about them so casually, as if they were just common, regular, nothing- special- about- them things in the sky, while they are really these spectacular things that we should be in awe of...?

Wow, this is embarassing; here I go, rambling off about the explanation to the question, while I am very most likely WAY off...

If anybody has any REAL explanations, that would be a great so that you could save me from any further future embarassment...

[PrinceOfTheWest]

"It's all in Plato, all in Plato! Bless me, what do they teach them in these schools?"

What you're getting there is the classically trained Lewis taking a direct slap at the modern mindset by having Ramandu answer the thoroughly modern Eustace's presupposition, not the statement itself.

We moderns think in very material terms: a "thing" is what it is made of. The answer to the question "What is a pencil?" comes out, "A roughly cylindrical form of wood, typically painted on the outside, with a core made of graphite and clay." The description of what it is made of is considered the description of what it is.

This way of thinking is a very recent development. Classic thinkers dating back to Aristotle and Socrates (and, yes, Plato) thought of things like mass, dimension, and coloration as being incidental aspects of what a thing really was - in fact, they were called "accidents", but since we use that term totally differently, think of them as "external aspects." The reality of a thing belonged to a different reality, and the physical thing that you were holding in your hand was a echo or a shadow of the "true" reality.

I know this sounds kind of odd, but it's because you've been trained differently. For the past several centuries, influenced by rationalistic thought and a materialistic world view, we all have come to think of the things we can touch, taste, and weigh as "real" things, while metaphysical things are somehow less real. But this is a modern development - most of history has thought of the metaphysical realities as being more real - the foundation, in fact, of the physical ones.

Let me try to bring this home. If someone were to ask, "What are you, Deplorable Word?", a chemist might respond, "Why, several pounds of water-based colloidal suspension, consisting of atoms of carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen arranged in very peculiar patterns." Mostly that would be a joke, since "you" are clearly more than that. But what makes you more than that is the metaphysical part of you: your consciousness, your soul. That's the part of you that is more real than the water and proteins that make up your physical body.

But it's not just you, nor is it just humans. Beavers, for that matter, and flowers, and even rocks are all things that are more than the sum of their substance. A strict materialist, like some of our fellow forumers posting in other threads, would say, "That's nonsense! A rock is a rock, nothing more!" But that is a philosophical position, and no more defensible than any other. The great Plato spoke of Ideals, and that there existed somewhere (not in our physical universe) a place where the Ideal of a Rock existed, and the physical rock whose external aspects just tripped me in the road was but a shadow or reflection of the Ideal Rock. This was an idea of Plato's, but St. Thomas Aquinas had no difficulty in seeing it through the lens of Revealed Truth, and the way in which God not only created but sustains all things at all times. In the mind of God there exists the idea of Rock, and each particular rock is but a manifestation of that idea. For that matter, so is each beaver, flower, and person.

This is how most classically trained thinkers have thought through history, at least in Christendom. A thing is far more than what it is made of: it is the reflection of a greater reality found in a greater source. You are; I am; even honeybees are. It is only the modern world, with it's "scientific" outlook, says nonsense like "a star is a great flaming ball of gas", as if that simple phrase exhausts the idea and wonder of a star. A star "is" a reflection of the glorious Ideal of Starhood which exists in the mind of the Creator and Sustainer of all things. As such, it is also a reflection of His great glory and power, but it is far, far more than "merely" flaming gas. That may be all our senses can apprehend, but reality is far greater than that which presents itself to our senses.

Long answer, but I hope it helps!

Under the Mercy!

[DeplorableWord]

Umm, thanks PrinceoftheWest for spending time responding. I think to better understand it, I'll have to think about what you wrote more and read it over.

Thanks again and I think the last paragraph helped me the most in understanding it. :)

[Charn_Tim]

Excellent response PotW, but my little sister (DeplorableWord) is only 14 :D. haha, even if she didn't understand everything, I have explained it a little more to her to clarify and present the info in a little bit simpler terms so she could understand better. But I think you gave a great response anyway!

I actually didn't make that connection at first either-that Lewis was referring to the idea of Plato's "forms" (at least in some sense) and offering somewhat of a rebuttal to the materialistic view prevalent in his time and ours. It's always interesting that at seemingly every turn, Lewis incorporates his philosophy and theology so elegantly in a "children's story."

[Charn_Tim]

I recently re-read it, and I am still tempted to say so, even though Silver Chair is a wonderful read full of spiritual insight. Comparing those two, in fact, makes for enlightening stuff. More on that later.

I found something that I have been itching to share concerning the close of DT, but before I do that I wanted to make some general remarks and see if anyone bites...
Well, there was some follow up discussion to this post, but I think some loose ends are still left, and although this has been an inactive thread for about 2 months now, I for one think it's high time these loose ends be tied up! What do you mean by comparing Dawn Treader and Silver Chair makes for some pretty enlightening stuff? Could you please elaborate. I'd be very interested to hear/discuss that...

And what the heck is it that you've been itching to share concerning the end of Dawn Treader?! :)

[Charn_Tim]

I think most of your original questions, Prince of the West, have been pretty well gone over in this thread except this one, so I guess I'll take a stab at it and then sit back and wait for others to blow me out of the water :)

The pool on Deathwater Island had peculiar properties. Once the voyagers discovered it, what character traits emerged with frightening swiftness? What might have caused Caspian to respond as he did? Edmund? What did it take to "shake them out of it"? What clear and immediate lesson were they missing?
I would say that the character traits emerging were greed and pride, and according to Lewis, greed is actually a natural consequence of pride, the great sin (c.f. Mere Christianity). The reason for such a quick turn around in Caspian's actions was that he was tempted with material greatness and power, such that no king of narnia had ever achieved before, and no one could ever hope to achieve again. In other words, by claiming ownership over the island, he could become "greater" than anyone else, and that incites pride like nothing else. It is also clearly seen from this passage that pride is by definition competetive; thus, Caspian and Edmund nearly break out into a duel over who deserves rightful ownership of the land, before Aslan intervenes and reveals himself to the party, opening Caspian's and Edmund's eyes to their petty selfishness. I suppose that the immediate lesson that they're missing was that they do not really "own" anything; all of narnia is really Aslan's possession, and they are simply stewards of what he has given to them for a time...was this kind of what you were getting at?

Okay, that's the best I could do at 2:30 am...I'm going to bed.

[Parthian King]

OK, this is what I was thinking about the end of Dawn Treader:

It seems clear to me that Lewis was (for probably the third time) wrapping up Narnia for good. He closely models the end of story, after Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace's journey through the sea of lilies and their good-bye to Reepicheep, after John 21.
But between them and the foot of the sky there was something so white on the green grass that even with their eagles' eyes they could hardly look at it. They came on and saw that it was a Lamb.

"Come on and have some breakfast," said the Lamb in its sweet milky voice.

They noticed for the first time that there was a fire lit on the grass and fish roasting on it. They sat down and ate the fish, hungry now for the first time for many days. And it was the most delicious food they have ever tasted.--The Voyage of the Dawn Treader Ch. 16

And so when they got out upon the land, they saw a charcoal fire already laid, and fish placed on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish which you have now caught.” Simon Peter went up, and drew the net to land, full of large fish, a hundred and fifty-three; and although there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples ventured to question Him, “Who are You?” knowing that it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread, and gave them, and the fish likewise.--John 21:9-13
Here we see a close repetition of motifs: The disciples/children leave a boat, come ashore, and a disguised Christ waits for them with roasted fish grilled on an open fire, invites them to eat breakfast, and they sit and eat with Him. There is an element of mystery to the meal over the character with whom they eat, but it is a "disclosed mystery"--you know who it is in John, and you know who it is in Dawn Treader even before He transforms His image into the Lion. (Also, read John's description of the Risen Christ in Revelation 1 for the brilliant whiteness of Him.)

Next, there is the confrontation, and the telling of things as they will be, even though there will be difficult or uncertain at times:
"Dearest," said Aslan very gently, "you and your brother will never come back to Narnia"

"Oh, Aslan!!" said Edmund and Lucy both together in despairing voices.

"You are too old, children," said Aslan, "and you must begin to come close to your own world now."

"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"

"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.

"Are--are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.

"I am," said Aslan. "But I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This is the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there there.

Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to gird yourself, and walk wherever you wished; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will gird you, and bring you where you do not wish to go.” Now this He said, signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when He had spoken this, He said to him, “Follow Me!”--John 21:18-19
... but these have been written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in His name.--John 20:31
OK, Lewis seems to be conflating (blending) some stuff not just from John 21, but a little from John 20 as well, which isn't too much of a stretch, since it is the spirit of the end of that Gospel: Believing and knowing God. But I think we still have some strong parallel here: Christ breaks some bad news, leading to an inner conflict on the part of the disciple/children that hear it. Lewis' statement of purpose for why the children Lucy and Edmund came to narnia (i.e., why the reader has been taken to Narnia) is nearly identical to the statement of purpose for John's Gospel in 20:30: That you may believe, and know Christ. I think this is a pretty strong declaration on Lewis' part about his series, since it is likely (as Prince of the West has pointed out) that he wrote each installment (at least int he early stages) fully intending it to be the last.
"And is Eustace never to come back here either?" said Lucy.

"Child," said Aslan, "do you really need to know that?"

Peter, turning around, saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them; the one who also had leaned back on His breast at the supper, and said, “Lord, who is the one who betrays You?” Peter therefore seeing him said to Jesus, “Lord, and what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow Me!”--John 21:20-22
Here's the classic objection statement: Upon hearing bad news from the Lord, we look to our brother and ask about him/her as a reflection of our own loss. God's answer is "It's none of your business." This seems a favorite passage of Lewis,' since he refers to it on the third page of his preface to Mere Christianity.

So, my conclusion is:

1) At the close of the Dawn Treader, Lewis felt he was closing the series. This is evidenced by the crossing of Reepicheep into Aslan's Land, the finding of the end of the world, the last of the Pevensie's being "banned" from Narnia, and the use of "closing language" from a Gospel to communicate truths that Lewis felt were absolutes that could not be improved upon.

2) Lewis makes a clear statement regarding Aslan's identity, as strong as anything in LWW: Aslan appears as a Lamb (also John's powerful symbol in both his Gospel and in Revelation for Christ), then changes into a Lion (the two together being a symbol of eternal bliss). His actions and conversation mirror with significant subtlety the actions and words of Christ in from a Gospel. And He clearly says He is to be known by another name in Lucy and Edmund's own world. Hints like anvils are falling all over the place, and this is as close as Lewis comes to using the name of Jesus outright.

3) Lewis makes a statement of purpose that sets him apart from the work of Tolkien in that he says "you came to Narnia that you might know me." I take this as very pointed to the reader, and not merely a statement for Lucy and Edmund. We have been taken to Narnia, all of us, through the Wardrobe, by Caspian blowing Susan's ancient horn, by the painting on Eustace's guest room wall. Why? Not just to entertain, says Lewis. But that we may know Him "a little" in Narnia, whetting our taste for Aslan's breath that we may truly and deeply know Him here in our world.

This all might be very obvious to others, but I hadn't seen it posted, so I want to put it out there.

[Charn_Tim]

Thanks for the response, Parthian King. Great stuff as always. Just a few quick comments on a couple things...


It seems clear to me that Lewis was (for probably the third time) wrapping up Narnia for good. He closely models the end of story, after Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace's journey through the sea of lilies and their good-bye to Reepicheep, after John 21.

Here we see a close repetition of motifs: The disciples/children leave a boat, come ashore, and a disguised Christ waits for them with roasted fish grilled on an open fire, invites them to eat breakfast, and they sit and eat with Him. There is an element of mystery to the meal over the character with whom they eat, but it is a "disclosed mystery"--you know who it is in John, and you know who it is in Dawn Treader even before He transforms His image into the Lion. (Also, read John's description of the Risen Christ in Revelation 1 for the brilliant whiteness of Him.)
That's a great insight, I certainly didn't see the connection to John 21 before. Also, it sure does seem like he tries to wrap it up each time in the first three books (except maybe PC in my opinion).


2) Lewis makes a clear statement regarding Aslan's identity, as strong as anything in LWW: Aslan appears as a Lamb (also John's powerful symbol in both his Gospel and in Revelation for Christ), then changes into a Lion (the two together being a symbol of eternal bliss). His actions and conversation mirror with significant subtlety the actions and words of Christ in from a Gospel. And He clearly says He is to be known by another name in Lucy and Edmund's own world. Hints like anvils are falling all over the place, and this is as close as Lewis comes to using the name of Jesus outright.
Yes, hints certainly are dropping like anvils. Another one is that Aslan calls himself "The Great Bridge Builder":
"But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the Great Bridge Builder. And now come; I will open the door in the sky and send you to your own land."

I have always been particularly fond of that imagery. A loose connection can be made with this and the Israelites crossing over the Jordan river to get to the promised land (Joshua 3:14 - 17). Even though Aslan represents himself as a bridge builder and God stopped the flow of the Jordan river, the idea/motif of crossing a river to enter the promised land/New Narnia is still present.

3) Lewis makes a statement of purpose that sets him apart from the work of Tolkien in that he says "you came to Narnia that you might know me." I take this as very pointed to the reader, and not merely a statement for Lucy and Edmund. We have been taken to Narnia, all of us, through the Wardrobe, by Caspian blowing Susan's ancient horn, by the painting on Eustace's guest room wall. Why? Not just to entertain, says Lewis. But that we may know Him "a little" in Narnia, whetting our taste for Aslan's breath that we may truly and deeply know Him here in our world.

This all might be very obvious to others, but I hadn't seen it posted, so I want to put it out there.
More great observations...certainly sets him apart from Tolkien, and indeed, it does seem pointed to the reader as well. It certainly whets my taste for more of the Breath of Life.

And no, it definitely wasn't obvious (to me anyway)!

[Ithilien]

The symbolism is so strong in that scene but I never realized C. S. Lewis drew so heavily from the Bible. It is certainly a very powerful scene and always connects strongly with me when I read it. Later, reading the Biblical verses allows me to more readily grasp their meaning. Such is the talent of C. S. Lewis!

If I may join into the conversation with some of the earlier points. I believe Caspian made a good decision when he finally relented and decided to stay with his crew. With a duty, you might call it "God-given", Caspian should not abandon his crew for the sake of his own pursuits. Sometimes, performing your duty well and adhere to your responsibities is a form of worship.

[inkspot]

Wow, good stuff here. I may copy some of these posts over into the Christian symbolism Thread if I can find it.