Tolkien Tuesday: Reading "The Magician's Nephew--Chapters 10-12"
Diggory continues to play a major role in the early days of the newly-created Narnia, even as he also has to take accountability for bringing the Witch with him.
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Welcome to Tolkien Tuesdays, where I talk about various things that I love about the lore and writings of Tolkien, whether in a chapter reading or a character study or an essay or even writings about other, related authors (such as C.S. Lewis). I hope you enjoy reading these ruminations as much as I enjoy writing them and, if you have a moment, I’d love it if you’d subscribe to this newsletter. It’s free, but there are paid options, as well, if you’re of a mind to support a struggling writer. Either way, thank you for joining me!
For this weeks’ analysis of The Magician’s Nephew, we rejoin Diggory and company as they continue to bear witness to the creation of Narnia and its earliest days. This trio of chapters focuses in particular on the aftermath of creation, in particular on the presence of the White Witch and on the impact that this is going to have going forward. While it might not have been his intention to do so, there can be no doubt that Diggory’s actions have let evil into a world that knew nothing of it before his arrival. Had he not brought the Witch with him in his futile effort to get her out of his world–and had he not awakened her due to his insatiable curiosity while in Charn–there’s every possibility that Narnia might have been kept unspoiled and unsullied by evil.
Then again, that’s the key thing about The Chronicles of Narnia. Like so many of the other books, The Magician’s Nephew is very much a refracted biblical narrative, in this case presenting us the story of the Garden of Eden and how, even in the primordial world when creation is new, it’s not long before evil comes into it thanks to humanity’s susceptibility to temptation. It doesn’t take much stretching of the imagination to see a bit of Satan in the White Witch, and it won’t be long before she begins to exert an ever-stronger hold on Narnia and its people.
Arguably the most important conversation is that between Diggory and Aslan, in which the latter gently interrogates the former. As I’ve written before, what makes Diggory such a fascinating character is the fact that, unlike his uncle, he really is good at heart. He is fallible, to be sure, because he is only human, but he’s willing to own up to his mistakes. In his conversation with Aslan, for example, it would be easy for him to continue to try to mislead the mighty Lion about how and why the Witch came to be in Narnia. However, such is Aslan’s power, and such is Diggory’s essential goodness, that he speaks the truth when a lesser person–say, Uncle Andrew–would continue to try to hold onto the lie or to try to present themselves in a more flattering light.
This whole conversation also reveals the extent to which Diggory is going to be held to a high standard when it comes to accountability. He may not have intended for the Witch to come into the newly-formed realm of Narnia, bring evil with her, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still have to accept his responsibility for his actions. No matter his intentions, he has to do his part to at least somewhat ameliorate the damage.
As importantly, he also remains concerned about his mother and in getting something–a fruit, perhaps–that would heal his mother and lead her back to recovery. He might be a bit of an ass at times, as most children are at one time or another, but he at the very least wants to help his mother out in her time of need. It’s for this reason that Aslan’s comment that both of them know grief hits so hard, for what could be more difficult for a boy of Diggory’s age than to watch one’s mother waste away and find oneself powerless to help her?
Like Tolkien, Lewis also clearly valorizes those who hail from the country rather than the city. It’s particularly significant in this regard that the Cabby and his wife are appointed by Aslan to be the first King and Queen of Narnia. Given the extent to which poor Strawberry (later known as Fledge) has suffered at the hands of his human masters–including the Cabby, for all of his efforts to make his horse’s life more bearable on the hard streets of London–it makes sense that he would find in Narnia a world that gives him freedom and joy (not to mention wings and lots of grass).
Moreover, as Aslan also makes clear, it’s precisely the values of the country–hard work and bravery, tending to the soil and to the soul–that will be a key part of Narnia’s new monarchy. This will strike some readers as more than a little old-fashioned, but there’s also something charming about these values. And, when it comes down to it, there are certainly worse things for a pair of monarchs to exemplify than principles like these. To the Cabby’s credit, he’s not
While there are some heavier moments in these chapters, there’s no shortage of humor. Who couldn’t help but laugh, for example, at the moment in which the Animals, perplexed by the appearance and behavior of Uncle Andrew, end up trying to plant him in the earth (they’re under the impression that he’s a tree rather than a human). This is one of those delightfully charming moments that Lewis excels at creating and, if we’re being honest, it’s also a fitting fate for Uncle Andrew. This is a man, after all, whose only prejudices regarding animals and their ability to speak cut him off from the wonder and magic that permeates all of Narnia. Like far too many people in our own world, he simply can’t wrap his head around the idea that there are things that defy rational explanation.
The third of this week’s chapter ends on a slight note of whimsy as Diggory and Polly, on the back of the newly-christened Fledge, start to make their way toward the tree and its mystical fruit. There’s something particularly funny about the image of Fledge looking at these tiny humans with grass poking out of his mouth, utterly confused as to why they aren’t able to eat like he does. At the very least, though, they get to eat some toffees.
I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. There’s a simple magic to The Magician’s Nephew that just draws you in and makes you want to spend even more time in the land of Narnia.