Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Narnia #2: An Exercise in Supposition and Imagination

Anyone who knows anything about The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis knows that it’s full of Christian symbolism. With only a little prodding, my five- and six-year old sons picked up on the connection between Aslan and Christ right away, and all sorts of other connections took off from there.

Some of our comparisons worked beautifully.

In The Magician’s Nephew, the first chronological book in the series, C.S. Lewis has Aslan create Narnia by singing everything into existence. As His song emanates from His lion mouth, a beautiful landscape unfolds out of the darkness, and it soon teems with all sorts of creatures—even mythical ones like talking unicorns and fauns and satyrs. I found this a stunning visual to go along with John 1:1 which says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

I spend a lot of time breaking down the meaning of that verse with my middle school students. We talk about how the “Word” refers to Jesus as well as the Logic that God imprinted in Creation. Then we slice and dice it a myriad of other ways and drive it home with some reminders about how the Breath used in speaking the Word represents the Holy Spirit. It’s a very analytical and (I hope) engaging lesson.

But it pales in comparison to “listening” to Aslan’s song. It’s not that the fictional images are better than the real ones, per se. It’s that they do the work of imagining for us, and they do so in such a way that makes them very appealing and accessible for young minds. By putting the (Lion) skin on the Word, Lewis made it very easy for his readers to see how the Word was made Flesh. In the context of reading the story with my sons, I was able to express some of the same ideas I cover with my much older students, and they were able to dialogue right back with me, young though they are. It was a very simple conversation, but it felt like they understood and internalized the ideas because they could picture it all.

By the time we got to The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the connection between Aslan and Christ was even more obvious. Like Christ, Aslan gives His life to save His people. He lets the White Witch kill Him in order to save Edmund’s life, who, by the way, doesn’t seem to really deserve it. (The implications for humanity are pretty humbling, to say the least.) Also like Christ, Aslan comes back to life and defeats the White Witch.

But not all the comparisons we tried to make between characters in Narnia and figures in the Bible worked as well:

For example, if you try to make the White Witch out as the Devil, you’re going to have some trouble. Yes, she’s evil. Yes, she’s a temptress. But, she is not so in a penultimate way. Reading the whole series makes it clear that she is one of a long cast of villains. In short, she is only like the Devil in as much as all things evil are.

It turns out, my kids and I weren’t the only ones trying to match things up and failing at times. After I finished reading The Chronicles of Narnia, I read Letters to Children by C.S. Lewis. As the title suggests, it consists of letters he wrote in response to fan mail from children, some of whom maintained many years of correspondence and even gained the privilege of book dedications.

Lewis explained to a fifth grade class in Maryland, “You are mistaken when you think that everything in the books ‘represents’ something in the world…I did not say to myself ‘Let us represent Jesus as He really is in our world by a Lion in Narnia’: I said ‘Let us suppose that there were a land like Narnia and that the Son of God, as He became a Man in our world, became a Lion there, and then imagine what would happen.’ If you think about it, you will see that is quite a different thing.”

In another collected work called On Stories and Essays, C.S. Lewis goes on to criticize the idea of allegory, saying, “No story can be devised by the wit of man which cannot be interpreted allegorically by the wit of some other man…the mere fact that you can allegorise the work before you is of itself no proof that it is an allegory. Of course you can allegorise it. You can allegorise anything, whether in art or real life.”

I think we owe it to C.S. Lewis to take him at his word. The Chronicles of Narnia are not an allegory. They may tell a story of salvation; it’s just not The Story of Salvation. The one certainly reflects the other but is not beholden to it—except in the character of Aslan. He alone is a true match. He is Christ, the Lion of Judah. (Incidentally, I also learned from one of his letters that the name for Aslan was taken from the Turkish word for lion.)

So you may be wondering if C.S. Lewis’s suppositional approach confounds things too much for a little child.

As a one-time child reading The Chronicles of Narnia and now as a mother reading them to my own children, I think they appeal to the imagination in a way that colors and accents The Story of Salvation. After all, the central Truth, or Logos, of that story is less about the details of each event and more about the salvation it offers, of which C.S. Lewis bears witness beautifully.

(Here is another of my six-year-old son’s sentence diagrams, which I instructed him through during our reading of The Chronicles of Narnia. For more on a classical approach to learning grammar, visit my series here.)

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The Legend of King Arthur #6: Plot Summary

In a literary sense, plot refers to a series of causally-related events that revolve around a central problem, rise to a climax, and ultimately come to a resolution. Roger Lancelyn Green followed this classical plot structure in his version of the legend of King Arthur, while also ensuring that it maintained its traditional connections to the Bible. Each plot element outlined below has a direct and deliberate connection to salvation history.   

Try following allow by filling in this plot diagram. Or use this complete one as a quick reference. I am also sharing my chapter journal questions that deal with specifics of the plot.

Exposition 

Another word for exposition is setting. The setting for King Arthur, then, is Britain sometime after the fall of the Roman Empire but before the full onset of the Middle Ages. Here we see a match-up between actual history and the legend since Britain at that time really was ruled by various barbarian groups, most famously the Saxons, who lacked a codified rule of law. Moreover, as barbarians, they lacked a Christian worldview and the order it imparts.

Arthur becomes king in this context and thus begins unifying the people of Logres into a Realm of Righteousness and turning it into a type of “Garden of Eden.”  

Inciting Incident  

The inciting incident is the problem that sets the plot in motion. Put differently, it is an event of such great proportions that it fundamentally alters the world of the story and must be played out to its fullest extent. The dolorous stroke is the inciting incident of King Arthur. In a literal sense, the dolorous stroke refers to when Sir Balyn struck King Pelles, maiming him and his kingdom beyond the powers of human healing.

Figuratively, it matches up to the fall of Adam and symbolizes the entry of sin. All of Arthur’s efforts will revolve around trying to ward off the ill effects of the dolorous stroke and restore Logres as a Realm of Righteousness.  

Rising Action  

King Arthur sends his knights on quest after quest to right the wrongs in his kingdom. The quests are wrought with great peril, but the Knights of the Round Table continually emerge victorious because of their great skill at arms and virtuous souls. This dramatic climb eventually comes to a head with the onset of the quest for the Holy Grail.

Literally, the Holy Grail is the cup from which Christ drank at the Last Supper. Figuratively, it represents the source of healing for Logres, or the means by which it can once again be a Realm of Righteousness. Try as they might, none of the knights are virtuous enough to achieve the quest.    

Climax  

Enter Sir Galahad, the “holy knight of Logres.” As explained in the character sketches, he is a Messianic figure. Like Christ, he is the only one who can “drink the cup” of the Holy Grail and heal the sinful effects of the dolorous stroke. His life’s purpose is accomplished at the conclusion of the quest, which is the climax, and so he dies and goes to Heaven.

It should be noted that Galahad objectively defeats sin, but he cannot subjectively defeat it for everyone else. Through him, it is possible for Logres to once again be a Realm of Righteousness, but it is up to each individual to make it that way.  

Falling Action  

Sometimes referred to as the “unravelling,” the falling action is typically a quick descent in the drama that seems almost without control. Here, we focus on the affair between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere. The illicit nature of their relationship permeates the story, but only reveals itself in all its ugliness at this point. The couple gets swept up in their romance, leaves caution to wind, and gets discovered.

Urged on by Sir Mordred, though without the approval of Sir Gawain, King Arthur deals swiftly with the treason. Sir Lancelot manages to escape, but as Arthur’s enemy.  

Resolution  

King Arthur learns too late that Sir Mordred was using the affair as a way to break the trust of the Round Table and elevate himself to the throne. Thus ensues a great battle between Arthur and Mordred, the latter of whom succeeds in turning many of the Knights of the Round Tables.

Arthur receives a grievous wound in the battle, which may or may not have killed him—the mystery makes for a great debate! In any event, his wound is largely symbolic as it represents the presence of vice in his life.

At this point, Morgana reemerges to “heal” Arthur in the mysterious Vale of Avalon, a place akin to purgatory. My students always feel a little let down by this resolution, so some prefer to call it an anti–resolution. After all, it seems like Arthur is dead and the Realm of Righteousness is defeated once and for all. 

Yet, a figurative interpretation gives us a different spin. Arthur lives on not only through the endurance of the story, but also through eternal life. He may not have been perfect, but he was able to subjectively win a place in Purgatory, the gateway to Heaven, thanks to Galahad’s objective victory over sin and death.

Finally and perhaps obviously, the last battle is comparable to the apocalypse. It is the end of the “world” of Logres, but also the final entry point into eternity, the true Realm of Righteousness.