A Year with Aslan: Daily Reflections from The Chronicles of Narnia
Page 37
“Thou hast called me into Narnia, Rishda Tarkaan. Here I am. What hast thou to say?”
But the Tarkaan neither lifted his face from the ground nor said a word. He was shaking like a man with a bad hiccup. He was brave enough in battle: but half his courage had left him earlier that night when he first began to suspect that there might be a real Tash. The rest of it had left him now.
With a sudden jerk—like a hen stooping to pick up a worm—Tash pounced on the miserable Rishda and tucked him under the upper of his two right arms.
But immediately, from behind Tash, strong and calm as the summer sea, a voice said:
“Begone, Monster, and take your lawful prey to your own place: in the name of Aslan and Aslan’s great Father the Emperor-over-the-Sea.”
The hideous creature vanished, with the Tarkaan still under its arm.
—The Last Battle
Even though he does not believe in Tash, Rishda Tarkaan still succeeds in calling him to Narnia. What do you think it means that the Tarkaan is Tash’s lawful prey?
DECEMBER 16
Bother the Signs
BUT IT WAS DREADFUL TO be out on top again. Down in those narrow slits of trenches, their ears had almost begun to thaw. They had been able to see clearly and breathe easily and hear each other speak without shouting. It was absolute misery to come back into the withering coldness. And it did seem hard when Puddleglum chose that moment for saying:
“Are you still sure of those signs, Pole? What’s the one we ought to be after now?”
“Oh, come on! Bother the signs,” said Pole. “Something about someone mentioning Aslan’s name, I think. But I’m jolly well not going to give a recitation here.”
As you see, she had got the order wrong. That was because she had given up saying the signs over every night. She still really knew them, if she troubled to think: but she was no longer so “pat” in her lesson as to be sure of reeling them off in the right order at a moment’s notice and without thinking. Puddleglum’s question annoyed her because, deep down inside her, she was already annoyed with herself for not knowing the Lion’s lesson quite so well as she felt she ought to have known it. This annoyance, added to the misery of being very cold and tired, made her say, “Bother the signs.” She didn’t perhaps quite mean it.
“Oh, that was next, was it?” said Puddleglum. “Now I wonder, are you right? Got ’em mixed, I shouldn’t wonder. It seems to me, this hill, this flat place we’re on, is worth stopping to have a look at. Have you noticed—”
“Oh, Lor!” said Scrubb, “is this a time for stopping to admire the view? For goodness’ sake let’s get on.”
“Oh, look, look, look,” cried Jill and pointed. Everyone turned, and everyone saw. Some way off to the north, and a good deal higher up than the tableland on which they stood, a line of lights had appeared. This time, even more obviously than when the travelers had seen them the night before, they were windows: smaller windows that made one think deliciously of bedrooms, and larger windows that made one think of great halls with fires roaring on the hearth and hot soup or juicy sirloins smoking on the table.
“Harfang!” exclaimed Scrubb.
“That’s all very well,” said Puddleglum. “But what I was saying was—”
“Oh, shut up,” said Jill crossly.
—The Silver Chair
Jill has become so distracted by the promised comforts of Harfang that she has stopped reciting the signs Aslan gave her. Why does she react so crossly when Puddleglum tries to redirect her? When have you found yourself snapping at someone who was trying to help?
DECEMBER 17
Ready for War
[T]HERE CAME IN SIGHT the noblest creatures that Caspian had yet seen, the great Centaur Glenstorm and his three sons. His flanks were glossy chestnut and the beard that covered his broad chest was golden-red. He was a prophet and a star-gazer and knew what they had come about.
“Long live the King,” he cried. “I and my sons are ready for war. When is the battle to be joined?”
Up till now neither Caspian nor the others had really been thinking of a war. They had some vague idea, perhaps, of an occasional raid on some Human farmstead or of attacking a party of hunters, if it ventured too far into these southern wilds. But, in the main, they had thought only of living to themselves in woods and caves and building up an attempt at Old Narnia in hiding. As soon as Glenstorm had spoken everyone felt much more serious.
“Do you mean a real war to drive Miraz out of Narnia?” asked Caspian.
“What else?” said the Centaur. “Why else does your Majesty go clad in mail and girt with sword?”
“Is it possible, Glenstorm?” said the Badger.
“The time is ripe,” said Glenstorm. “I watch the skies, Badger, for it is mine to watch, as it is yours to remember. Tarva and Alambil have met in the halls of high heaven, and on earth a son of Adam has once more arisen to rule and name the creatures. The hour has struck. Our council at the Dancing Lawn must be a council of war.” He spoke in such a voice that neither Caspian nor the others hesitated for a moment: it now seemed to them quite possible that they might win a war and quite certain that they must wage one.
—Prince Caspian
Why do you think the idea of war has not quite occurred to Caspian and his companions? Do you have anyone in your life like Glenstorm, who drives you to action?
DECEMBER 18
We Have Lived Too Long
WELL,” SAID THE KING AT LAST, “we must go on and take the adventure that comes to us.”
“It is the only thing left for us to do, Sire,” said the Unicorn. He did not see at the moment how foolish it was for two of them to go on alone; nor did the King. They were too angry to think clearly. But much evil came of their rashness in the end.
Suddenly the King leaned hard on his friend’s neck and bowed his head.
“Jewel,” he said, “what lies before us? Horrible thoughts arise in my heart. If we had died before today we should have been happy.”
“Yes,” said Jewel. “We have lived too long. The worst thing in the world has come upon us.” They stood like that for a minute or two and then went on.
—The Last Battle
After hearing that Aslan has ordered the felling of the holy trees, King Tirian and Jewel say they wish they had died before today. What do you think they mean by this statement? Has despair ever led you to do foolish things?
DECEMBER 19
Come Close to Your Own World
PLEASE, ASLAN,” SAID LUCY. “Before we go, will you tell us when we can come back to Narnia again? Please. And oh, do, do, do make it soon.”
“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.”
—The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Why might it be important for Lucy and Edmund to become close to their own world now that they are growing older?
DECEMBER 20
In Our World
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 there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”
—The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
What might it have been like for Lucy and Edmund to realize that Aslan has been in their world all along, but they’ve never noticed? Does this surprise you?
DECEMBER 21
If You Like
EDMUND WAS STILL STARING after the sledge when he heard someone calling his own name, and looking round he saw
Lucy coming toward him from another part of the wood.
“Oh, Edmund!” she cried. “So you’ve got in too! Isn’t it wonderful, and now—”
“All right,” said Edmund, “I see you were right and it is a magic wardrobe after all. I’ll say I’m sorry if you like. But where on earth have you been all this time? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“If I’d known you had got in I’d have waited for you,” said Lucy, who was too happy and excited to notice how snappishly Edmund spoke or how flushed and strange his face was. “I’ve been having lunch with dear Mr. Tumnus, the Faun, and he’s very well and the White Witch has done nothing to him for letting me go, so he thinks she can’t have found out and perhaps everything is going to be all right after all.”
—The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
When Edmund sees Lucy, he knows he must say something about not believing her story about the land in the wardrobe. What’s the difference between truly apologizing and saying, as Edmund does here, “I’ll say I’m sorry if you like”? How would you feel to be on the receiving end of his words?
DECEMBER 22
All Get What They Want
SON OF ADAM,” said Aslan, “you have sown well. And you, Narnians, let it be your first care to guard this Tree, for it is your Shield. The Witch of whom I told you has fled far away into the North of the world; she will live on there, growing stronger in dark Magic. But while that tree flourishes she will never come down into Narnia. She dare not come within a hundred miles of the Tree, for its smell, which is joy and life and health to you, is death and horror and despair to her.”
. . . Aslan suddenly swung round his head . . . and fixed his large eyes on the children. “What is it, children?” he said, for he caught them in the very act of whispering and nudging one another.
“Oh—Aslan, sir,” said Digory, turning red, “I forgot to tell you. The Witch has already eaten one of those apples, one of the same kind that Tree grew from.” He hadn’t really said all he was thinking, but Polly at once said it for him. (Digory was always much more afraid than she of looking a fool.)
“So we thought, Aslan,” she said, “that there must be some mistake, and she can’t really mind the smell of those apples.”
“Why do you think that, Daughter of Eve?” asked the Lion.
“Well, she ate one.”
“Child,” he replied, “that is why all the rest are now a horror to her. That is what happens to those who pluck and eat fruits at the wrong time and in the wrong way. The fruit is good, but they loathe it ever after.”
“Oh, I see,” said Polly. “And I suppose because she took it in the wrong way it won’t work for her. I mean it won’t make her always young and all that?”
“Alas,” said Aslan, shaking his head. “It will. Things always work according to their nature. She has won her heart’s desire; she has unwearying strength and endless days like a goddess. But length of days with an evil heart is only length of misery and already she begins to know it. All get what they want; they do not always like it.”
—The Magician’s Nephew
Why would getting her heart’s desire turn into such a misery for the Witch?
DECEMBER 23
I’m Going to Roll Anyway
BY ABOUT THE MIDDLE of the morning they were on their way. The Horses had expected that Aravis and Cor would ride, but Cor explained that except in war, where everyone must do what he can do best, no one in Narnia or Archenland ever dreamed of mounting a Talking Horse.
This reminded poor Bree again of how little he knew about Narnian customs and what dreadful mistakes he might make. So while Hwin strolled along in a happy dream, Bree got more nervous and more self-conscious with every step he took.
“Buck up, Bree,” said Cor. “It’s far worse for me than for you. You aren’t going to be educated. I shall be learning reading and writing and heraldry and dancing and history and music while you’ll be galloping and rolling on the hills of Narnia to your heart’s content.”
“But that’s just the point,” groaned Bree. “Do Talking Horses roll? Supposing they don’t? I can’t bear to give it up. What do you think, Hwin?”
“I’m going to roll anyway,” said Hwin. “I don’t suppose any of them will care two lumps of sugar whether you roll or not.”
—The Horse and His Boy
What is at the root of the difference of opinion between Bree and Hwin? Have you ever been so concerned about whether you were doing the right thing in others’ eyes that you could not enjoy yourself? In what areas are you most worried about what others think of you?
DECEMBER 24
Aslan’s Eyes
DIGORY NEVER SPOKE on the way back, and the others were shy of speaking to him. He was very sad and he wasn’t even sure all the time that he had done the right thing; but whenever he remembered the shining tears in Aslan’s eyes he became sure.
All day Fledge flew steadily with untiring wings; eastward with the river to guide him, through the mountains and over the wild wooded hills, and then over the great waterfall and down, and down, to where the woods of Narnia were darkened by the shadow of the mighty cliff, till at last, when the sky was growing red with sunset behind them, he saw a place where many creatures were gathered together by the riverside. And soon he could see Aslan himself in the midst of them. Fledge glided down, spread out his four legs, closed his wings, and landed cantering. Then he pulled up. The children dismounted. Digory saw all the animals, dwarfs, satyrs, nymphs, and other things drawing back to the left and right to make way for him. He walked up to Aslan, handed him the apple, and said:
“I’ve brought you the apple you wanted, sir.”
—The Magician’s Nephew
As Digory thinks through the aftermath of rejecting the Witch’s offer for him to take an apple from the tree to heal his mother, he thinks back to the tears in Aslan’s eyes when Digory spoke to him about his sick mother. Why do those tears make Digory so confident in him? What in your life serves as a similar touchstone to help you know or remember that you are doing the right thing or acting in the right way?
DECEMBER 25
The End of Narnia
THEN ASLAN SAID, “Now make an end.”
The giant . . . stretched out one arm—very black it looked, and thousands of miles long—across the sky till his hand reached the Sun. He took the Sun and squeezed it in his hand as you would squeeze an orange. And instantly there was total darkness.
Everyone except Aslan jumped back from the ice-cold air which now blew through the Doorway. Its edges were already covered with icicles.
“Peter, High King of Narnia,” said Aslan. “Shut the Door.”
Peter, shivering with cold, leaned out into the darkness and pulled the Door to. . . . Then, rather clumsily (for even in that moment his hands had gone numb and blue) he took out a golden key and locked it.
They had seen strange things enough through that Doorway. But it was stranger than any of them to look round and find themselves in warm daylight, the blue sky above them, flowers at their feet, and laughter in Aslan’s eyes.
He turned swiftly round, crouched lower, lashed himself with his tail and shot away like a golden arrow.
“Come further in! Come further up!” he shouted over his shoulder. . . .
“So,” said Peter, “night falls on Narnia. What, Lucy! You’re not crying? With Aslan ahead, and all of us here?”
“Don’t try to stop me, Peter,” said Lucy, “I am sure Aslan would not. I am sure it is not wrong to mourn for Narnia. . . .”
“Yes and I did hope,” said Jill, “that it might go on forever. I knew our world couldn’t. I did think Narnia might.”
“I saw it begin,” said the Lord Digory. “I did not think I would live to see it die.”
“Sirs,” said Tirian. “The ladies do well to weep. See, I do so myself. I have seen my mother’s death. What world but Narnia have I ever known? It were no virtue, but great discourtesy, if we did not mourn.”
&n
bsp; —The Last Battle
Why is it discourtesy not to mourn Narnia?
DECEMBER 26
We Shall Meet Again Soon
[ASLAN SAID,] “And today before sunset I must visit Trump-
kin the Dwarf where he sits in the castle of Cair Paravel counting the days till his master Caspian comes home. I will tell him all your story, Lucy. Do not look so sad. We shall meet soon again.”
“Please, Aslan,” said Lucy, “what do you call soon?”
“I call all times soon,” said Aslan; and instantly he was vanished away and Lucy was alone with the Magician.
“Gone!” said he, “and you and I quite crestfallen. It’s always like that, you can’t keep him; it’s not as if he were a tame lion.”
—The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Why can’t Aslan give Lucy a closer indication of when they will meet again? What do you think he means by “I call all times soon”?
DECEMBER 27
How They Got Here
EUSTACE SAID TO KING PETER, “You haven’t yet told us how you got here. You were just going to, when King Tirian turned up.”
“There’s not much to tell,” said Peter. “Edmund and I were standing on the platform and we saw your train coming in. I remember thinking it was taking the bend far too fast. And I remember thinking how funny it was that our people were probably in the same train though Lucy didn’t know about it—”
“Your people, High King?” said Tirian.
“I mean my Father and Mother—Edmund’s and Lucy’s and mine.”
“Why were they?” asked Jill. “You don’t mean to say they know about Narnia?”
“Oh no, it had nothing to do with Narnia. They were on their way to Bristol. I’d only heard they were going that morning. But Edmund said they’d be bound to be going by that train.”. . .
“And what happened then?” said Jill.