The Creator of Narnia:
Aslan
"If you continue to love Jesus, nothing much can go wrong with you, and I
hope you may always do so." -C. S. Lewis, Unpublished letter to a little girl
Who is Aslan? The one person who makes Narnia worth visiting is Aslan
himself-"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you." Aslan, of course,
is the magnificent Son of the Emperor-Over-Sea, King of the Wood and Beasts,
Maker of the Stars. He doesn't actually reside in Narnia, though: "One day
you'll see him and another you won't. He doesn't like being tied down-and of
course he has other countries to attend to." There are 100 years, for example,
when the Witch rules in perpetual Narnian winter and Christmas never comes.
Caspian and Tirian have real difficulty believing in Aslan since they have only
heard legends about him. Who can forget the image of Aslan singing Narnia into
existence-to see that Singer makes the viewer forget everything else: "It was a
Lion. Huge, shaggy, and bright it stood facing the risen sun. Its mouth was wide
open in song." The experience of his presence is like "a sea of tossing gold in
which they were floating, and such a sweetness and power rolled about them and
over them and entered into them that they felt they had never really been happy
or wise or good, or ever alive and awake, before. And the memory of that moment
stayed with them always, so that as long as they both lived, if ever they were
sad or afraid or angry, the thought of that golden goodness, and the feeling
that it was still there, quite close, just around some corner or just behind
some door, would come back and make them sure, deep down inside, that all was
well."
His speed, says Emeth, is like that of an ostrich, his size like an elephant's,
his hair like pure gold, his bright eyes like liquid gold. Here, Lewis has
succeeded in doing what, in his Preface to Paradise Lost, he admits is difficult
for any author: portraying a totally good character. "To draw a character better
than yourself, all you can do is to take the best moments you have had and to
imagine them prolonged and more consistently embodied in action. But the real,
high virtues which we do not possess at all, we cannot depict except in a purely
external fashion. We do not really know what it feels like to be a man much
better than ourselves."
Many readers sense that Aslan is a "divine" or "Christlike" figure. As we have
mentioned before, if you do not see Aslan in this way Lewis would not want you
to, because that was not his purpose. But for the moment, we will look at some
of the "hints" Lewis himself has given us, in the stories and elsewhere,
concerning Aslan's "model."
As will be discussed in chapter 8, the events in The Lion, the Witch and the
Wardrobe remind us of several events in Christ's own life. And in The Voyage of
the Dawn Treader, when the children reach the End of the World, they see a Lamb
who invites them to breakfast; he is so white they can barely look at him.
Suddenly, he is changed and they recognize him: "As he spoke his snowy white
flushed into tawny gold and his size changed and he was Aslan himself, towering
above them and scattering light from his mane."
Similar "symbolism" is used in Revelation 5:5-6: " . . . the Lion of the Tribe
of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and
its seven seals. And between the throne and the four living creatures and among
the elders, I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain." Aslan also
calls himself the great "Bridge Builder" who promises to guide them into Narnia
from their world-another Biblical image, as we will see later. Finally, in The
Last Battle, Aslan looks to them "no longer as a Lion", and we assume he has
taken his human form as he begins to tell them the Great Story, forever and
ever. Elsewhere, Lewis makes it clear that Aslan is a divine figure and that
anything "approaching Disney-like humor" would be blasphemy. He wrote the
following explanation to a little girl from Texas:
As to Aslan's other name, well, I want you to guess. Has there never been anyone
in this world who
(1) Arrived the same time as Father Christmas
(2) Said he was the Son of the Great Emperor
(3) Gave him- self up for someone else's fault to be jeered at and killed by
wicked people
(4) Came to life again
(5) Is sometimes spoken of as a Lamb (at the end of the "Dawn Treader")? Don't
you really know His name in this world?"
4
Most child readers--or at least certain types of people--who corresponded with
Lewis had no problem knowing Aslan's real identity. In several of his letters
Lewis indicates that he had received many "lovely, moving letters" from
children, primarily if brought up in Christian homes, who never failed to grasp
the theology of Narnia "more or less unconsciously, and much more clearly than
some grownups." Most grown-ups never see who Aslan is, he said. A perfect
example is a letter written by an 11 year old girl to Lewis's friend, Owen
Barfield:
"I have read Mr. Lewis's books. I got so envoveled [sic] in them all I did was
eat, sleep, and read. I wanted to write to you and tell you I understand the
books. I mean about the sy [m] bols and all .... I know that to me Aslan is God.
And all the son's and daughter's of Adam and Eve are God's children. I have my
own philosophies about the books. If it is possible I would like to meet you.
None of my friends (well some of them) liked the books. I tried to explain to
them but they don't understand about symbols. I never really did until I read
the books."
5
In fact, some children understood Aslan so well that they began to love Aslan
more than Jesus. Here is Lewis's response to a worried mother of one little boy:
"Laurence can't really love Aslan more than Jesus, even if he feels that's what
he is doing. For the things he loves Aslan for doing or saying are simply the
things Jesus really did and said. So that when Laur- ence thinks he is loving
Aslan, he is really loving Jesus: and perhaps loving Him more than he ever did
before. Of course there is one thing Aslan has that Jesus has not-I mean, the
body of a lion. (But remember, if there are other worlds and they need to be
saved and Christ were to save them-as He would-He may really have taken all
sorts of bodies in them which we don't know about). Now if Laurence is bothered
because he finds the lion-body seems nicer to him than the man-body, I don't
think he need be bothered at all. "
6
Why would Lewis choose, as he suggests, to portray Christ as a Lion? First of
all, we must remember that Lewis did not begin writing his stories with Aslan in
mind. Instead, he says he had been having dreams of lions at the time, and
suddenly Aslan came bounding into the story and "pulled the whole story together
and soon He pulled the six other Narnian stories in after Him." In fact, Lewis
admitted that writing a story about God would be a "tall order": "to imagine
what God might be supposed to have done in other worlds does not seem to be
wrong." Yet it must be emphasized that Aslan is not allegorically Christ; in
other words, no one-to-one correspondence exists between characters and events
and what they "stand for"between the characteristics and acts of Christ and
those of Aslan, for example. Rather, Aslan is "an invention giving an imaginary
answer to the question, 'What might Christ become like, if there really were a
world like Narnia and He chose to be incarnate and die and rise again in that
world as He actually has done in ours?' "'
After all, we are forced to use symbols for spiritual experience, just as the
Bible uses Scriptural imagery to describe God and heaven. But the use of symbols
leads us into clearer understanding and knowledge of Christ. Similarly, Aslan
says to King Frank, "You know [me] better than you think you know, and you shall
live to know me better yet." And at the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,
Aslan, who has nine names in Narnia, says that in England he has yet 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." So we must stretch and exercise our imaginations and
understanding of spiritual reality in order that we may use them in our everyday
world.
Lewis associates Aslan with two symbols he said he borrowed from the Grail
legend: brightness and a sweet smell. Eustace, for example, notices that
although there was no moon when he encountered Aslan, moonlight shone where the
Lion was. Shasta, too, sees a whiteness and golden light actually coming from
Aslan himself. In many of his other works, Lewis associates God and heaven with
the Biblical metaphor of light (I John 1:5, I Tim. 6:16), especially in his
story "The Man Born Blind." Appropriately, as the children approach Aslan's
country at the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, they notice a "whiteness,
shot with faintest colour of gold, spread round them on every side;" a
"brightness you or I could not bear even if we had dark glasses on." Aslan's
brightness contrasts with the dull red light of Jadis' Charn or the sick
greenish light of the Shallow-Lands.
Similarly, Aslan's mane gives off a lovely perfume which contrasts with the foul
stench of Tashbaan and its god. Sensing Aslan's warm breath, Shasta knows the
"thing" walking beside him is alive. Falling at his feet, he experiences all the
glory of his power, his fiery brightness and perfume:
"The High King above all kings stooped towards him. Its mane, and some strange
and solemn perfume that hung about the mane, was all round him. It touched his
forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly
the pale brightness of the mist and the fiery brightness of the Lion rolled
themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and
disappeared."
A Terrible Good Aslan manifests a variety of qualities--he is awesome, solemn
and stern, yet compassionate and joyful. This paradox of being at the same time
both "terrible" and "good" is a key idea in Charles William's Descent into Hell,
where "terrible" means "full of terror": Pauline "had never considered good as a
thing of terror, and certainly she had not supposed a certain thing of terror in
her own secret life as any possible good .... Salvation . . . is often a
terrible thing -a frightening good." Lewis believed God and the numinous
overwhelm us with a sense of dread and awe.
He explains this aspect of Aslan in The Lion: "People who have not been in
Narnia sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same
time. If the children had ever thought so, they were cured of it now. For when
they tried to look at Aslan's face they just caught a glimpse of the golden mane
and the great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then they found they
couldn't look at him and went all trembly." Digory finds Aslan simultaneously
"bigger and more beautiful and more brightly golden and more terrible than he
had thought," and Emeth notes that Aslan was "more terrible than the Flaming
Mountain of Lagour, and in beauty he surpassed all that is in the world, even as
the rose in bloom surpasses the dust of the desert." The light Shasta sees
radiating from Aslan is more terrible and more beautiful than anything anyone
has ever seen.
Jill senses the same paradoxical combination of terror and moral glory in her
first encounter with Aslan at the beginning of The Silver Chair. Desperately
thirsty, yet paralyzed with fright at the Lion's presence beside the stream, she
pleads with him for a promise that he will not harm her. But he will make no
such promise, majestically telling her that he has, in fact, "swallowed up girls
and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms." When Jill
reluctantly decides to search for another stream to drink from, Aslan informs
her that there is no other. "It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but
she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her
hand .... Before she tasted it she had been intending to make a dash away from
the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be . . .
the most dangerous thing of all."
As all the old tales of Narnia indicate, Aslan is wild--"not a tame lion." "
'Ooh!' said Susan, 'I'd thought he was a man. Is he--quite safe? I shall feel
rather nervous about meeting a lion.' " Mrs. Beaver replies, "if there's anyone
who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver
than most or else just silly." After his resurrection, defying death and evil,
Aslan opens his mouth to roar and "his face became so terrible that they did not
dare to look at it. And they saw all the trees in front of him bend before the
blast of his roaring as grass bends in the meadow before the wind." Aslan
resembles the "devouring" god of the mountain which Lewis portrays in Till We
Have Faces. But when he hurts, it is for a purpose. First snapping at Hwin to
make the horses hurry, the Lion then scratches Aravis. The scratches, he
explains later, are equal to the stripes her stepmother whipped into a slave
because of her: "You needed to know what it felt like." Yet Aslan has another
side; "I will not always scold," he assures the children. He can feel all the
pain and sorrow of every individual. When Digory fearfully asks Aslan to cure
his mother and peers up at his face, what he sees surprises him "as much as
anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and
(wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such
big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the
Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself." Later,
although he forgets to say "thank you," Aslan understands without a word from
Digory. Likewise, during Caspian's funeral, Aslan cries great Lion-tears, "each
tear more precious than the Earth would be if it was a single solid diamond." He
feels great sadness over Edmund's treachery, too.
He can also be joyously playful. Who can forget the lively romp with Aslan that
Lucy and Susan experience after his "resurrection"? It is like playing both with
a thunderstorm and a kitten. He gives them a wonderful ride on his back. His
mane flying, he never tires, never misses his footing. At the end of Prince
Caspian's adventures, Aslan leads the children, animals, new followers, and even
Bacchus himself in a riotous, festive parade through town. He playfully tosses
the disbelieving Trumpkin in the air, then asks to be his friend.
A Guide in Other Forms As a Lion, Aslan can show us the full significance of the
incarnation--Christ becoming a man, like us. This is poignantly exemplified in
The Lion when Aslan tells the other lions to join with him in battle: "Did you
hear what he said? Us lions. That means him and me. Us lions. That's what I like
about Aslan. No side, no stand- offishness. Us lions." We cannot read very many
pages of a Narnia story without sensing Aslan's presence, though unseen and
often in another form, and guidance of events. Like God, he is wise and
foreknowing. As Puddleglum reminds the children: There are no accidents; "He was
there when the giant king caused the letters to be cut, and he knew already all
things that would come of them; including this." Tirian describes whatever may
befall them in the future as "the adventure that Aslan would send them."
In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, he appears as an albatross, deliciously
breathing "Courage, dear heart," to Lucy, then guiding them away from the Dark
Island. Throughout all of Shasta's adventures-the lions forcing him to protect
Aravis and snapping at the horses; the Cat protecting him at the tombs; the
unseen giant shadow keeping to his left to protect him from the cliff; even his
own coming to Calormen-it is Aslan who guides each step of the way. "You may
call me a giant," he tells Shasta; "Tell me your sorrows." Then he reveals to
him that he is the One Lion that has been with him all along. Shasta later
realizes it isn't "luck" that sent him through the pass in the mountains into
Narnia "but Him." Aravis, too, at first thinking it "luck" that the lion only
gave her ten scratches, is told by the Hermit that in his 109 years, he "never
yet met any such thing as Luck. There is something about all this that I do not
understand: but if weever need to know it, you may be sure that we shall." Aslan
is ever present to warn the children sternly from time to time not to do wrong.
He reproves not out of anger but because he always knows what is best for them.
Some day, in Aslan's country, they will never do the wrong things and then "I
will not always be scolding," he promises. When they bicker about the gold on
Deathwater Island, suddenly Aslan's growling face appears to remind them of
their wrongdoing. Just as Lucy begins to say the spell in the Magician's Book to
make herself beautiful, Aslan stares gravely at her from the page. In Prince
Caspian a stern look from Aslan is all she needs to tell her that it is truly
her responsibility to follow him, despite the others: " 'It wasn't my fault
anyway, was it?' The Lion looked straight into her eyes. 'Oh, Aslan,' said Lucy.
'You don't mean it was? How could I-I couldn't have left the others and come up
to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that... oh well, I suppose I
could.' "
One cannot help but tell the truth before Aslan's holy stare. Digory is forced
to confess fully to Aslan his responsibility for the Witch entering Narnia: "
'She woke up,' said Digory wretchedly. And then, turning very white, 'I mean, I
woke her.' " Jill, too, confesses that she shoved Eustace over the cliff simply
because she was showing off.
Later, Aslan has to appear to her in a dream to remind her to repeat the signs
and give her a clue: UNDER ME. Finally, just as Moses is permitted to see only
God's back and not his face because his glory is too great (Exodus 33:21-23),
Aslan wreaks his fury upon Experiment House, but permits the hysterical teacher
and students to see only his back.
The power of Aslan's wonderfully warm, sweet breath, and the air from his
tossing mane, give such power and peace that it often seems reminiscent of the
power and guidance of the Holy Spirit. The whole trinity is perhaps hinted at
when Shasta asks the "ghostly" companion walking beside him, "Who are you?" "
'Myself,' said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook, (God the
Father) and again 'Myself,' loud and clear and gay, (Christ) and then the third
time 'Myself,' whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet is seemed
to come from all round you as if the leaves rustled with it" (The Holy Spirit).
Aslan's breath and kiss always empower the children. When he sends Digory to get
the apple seed, Digory doesn't know how he will do it. But Aslan's kiss gives
him such new strength and courage that he "felt quite sure now that he would be
able to do it." When Lucy buries her face in his mane, it makes her a disciple,
for he breathes such lion strength into her that he declares, "now you are a
lioness." He breathes on Edmund so that a greatness hangs all about him, too. To
wake the statues in The Lion, he breathes on their frozen forms, imparting
renewed life to them, just as he breathes on the chosen Talking Animals when
Narnia is created to separate them from the others.
Because of this Divine Plan and Presence behind events, we are not only to have
faith in Aslan even when we cannot see or know, but we are also to be content
with the present situation and not long for things to be different. The Green
Lady in Perelandra believes that the wave sent to her from God at each moment is
the best wave of all. So too, the children are repeatedly told by Aslan, "did I
not explain to you once before that no one is ever told what would have
happened. " That is not to say that Aslan dictates every event that happens or
will always be present even if not asked. In fact, Lewis clearly illustrates the
importance of free will and prayer in our lives. Aslan does not appear as a
guide and comfort in the form of an albatross until Lucy whispers, "Aslan, Aslan,
Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now." Even though the darkness
seems to remain, she feels better because of her small faith until he comes.
Likewise, in The Last Battle, Tirian cries out "Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Come and
help us Now." For him, too, the darkness, cold, and quiet seem just the same,
but there is a kind of change inside him: "Without knowing why, he began to feel
a faint hope. And he felt somehow stronger." And help does come. Although no-one
can successfully try to get to Narnia, in The Silver Chair Jill and Eustace
enter not long after they plead with Aslan to let them in: "Aslan, Aslan, Aslan!
. . . Please let us two go into-." We sense that Aslan, like God, wants us to
call on him first. Wondering if Aslan knows how hungry they are without telling
him, Digory and Polly have to have Fledge the horse explain it to them: "I've no
doubt he would," says Fledge. "But I've a sort of idea he likes to be asked."
Obedience Aslan usually calls the children from our world into another to
perform certain tasks. In The Magician's Nephew, when Aslan calls the Cabby's
wife from England, Polly realizes that anyone who heard that call "would want to
obey it and (what's more) would be able to obey it, however many worlds and ages
lay between." Thus they learn to obey Aslan and to seek his guidance in all
circumstances. In Prince Caspian, for example, Lucy should have forsaken all the
others and come after Aslan alone. Since she didn't, Aslan bids her once more:
"You must all get up at once and follow me." Christ also told his disciples, "If
anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him deny himself and take up his
cross and follow me," forsaking all else. Later, after learning his lesson,
Peter assures Lucy that they cannot know when Aslan will act again, but that
nevertheless "he expects us to do what we can on our own." Digory's first task
is simply to help Polly once Andrew sends her off into Narnia alone. Later, he
must abandon his family and follow Aslan at any cost in order to get Aslan the
apple. Still, Aslan provides him with help-Fledge and Polly-and special signs to
look for-a blue lake, a hill, and a garden. And in reward for obeying and
patiently waiting, he is given a healing apple for his mother.
Lucy is told in The Lion to go save others with her magic cordial and not to
stop and wait for Edmund's healing. " 'Wait a minute,' she tells Aslan crossly.
'Daughter of Eve,' said Aslan in a graver voice, 'others also are at the point
of death. Must more people die for Edmund?' " When she returns, Ed looks better
than she had ever seen him. So her patience and obedience are rewarded, too. In
fact, all four children illustrate well the rewards and blessings faithful
Christians receive: for whatever they, as Kings and Queens, "took in hand," they
achieved.
Shasta's task is to warn King Lune. Though tired and disheartened, he must
continue on alone and he thinks this is cruel. Often, we feel God is asking us
to do more than our share. But Shasta learns, "if you do one good deed your
reward usually is to be set to do another and harder and better one." Likewise,
Caspian selfishly though understandably, wants to abandon his throne in Narnia,
his ship, and his promise to Ramandu's daughter to reach Aslan's country, but he
must return at Aslan's bidding.
In The Silver Chair, Jill and Eustace are "called" by Aslan out of their world
to do an important task. In their case, Aslan guides them by telling Jill four
important signs she is to follow. Although the signs are quite clear to her in
Aslan's country, he warns her that they will be difficult to recognize in
Narnia. So she is to "remember, remember, remember the Signs. Say them to
yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when
you wake in the middle of the night." God similarly commanded the Israelites:
"These words which I command you this day shall be upon your heart; and you
shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you
sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when
you rise. And you shall bind them as a sign upon your hand, and they shall be as
frontlets between your eyes" (Deuteronomy 6:6-8, RSV).
The children, however, don't obey Aslan's commands or stick to their mission.
For one thing, they are tempted by food and shelter at Harfang, and thus walk
right into a giant trap! Puddleglum has to remind them constantly to have faith
and to keep going: "Aslan's instructions always work: there are no exceptions."
Although it seems illogical, they must obey the sign and release the seemingly
mad Prince even though they are unsure of what he will do. They may even die in
the process. But no matter what the consequences, they must obey: "I was going
to say I wished we'd never come. But I don't, I don't, I don't. Even if we are
killed. I'd rather be killed fighting for Narnia than grow old and stupid at
home and perhaps go about in a bath chair and then die in the end just the same,
" Jill proclaims in The Last Battle.
Reactions to Aslan An individual's reaction to Aslan reveals what kind of person
he is. A curious thing happens, for example, when all four Pevensies hear the
word "Aslan" spoken for the first time. At the sound of his name, each child
feels quite different. Lewis likens it to the contrast between a terrifying or
wonderful reaction to one dream: "At the name of Aslan each one of the children
felt something jump inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror." In
fact, he later admits, he hated the name. "Peter felt suddenly brave and
adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful stream of
music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake
up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the
beginning of summer." There are similar varied reactions to Aslan's song of
creation. The Cabby, Digory, and Polly drink in the music, for it reminds them
of something. The Witch on the other hand knows what the song is and hates it.
Andrew doesn't like it because it makes him think and feel things he doesn't
want to. He tells himself it is "only a lion" who hasn't really been
singing-only roaring. And soon "he couldn't have heard anything else even if he
had wanted to." Aslan explains that Andrew has made himself unable to hear his
voice: "If I spoke to him, he would hear only growlings and roarings. Oh Adam's
sons, how cleverly you defend yourself against all that might do you good!" Just
the sight of Aslan creates "one single expression of terror" on the mean, cruel
faces of the Experiment House children. A person's attitude also affects his
view of Narnia itselfAndrew, Eustace and the Telmarines all dread the thought of
going there. Thus "what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are
standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are." The Dwarfs refuse to
believe in Aslan even when presented with the truth from Tirian. Like Andrew,
they sit huddled up in the Stable and see only darkness instead of the sky and
flowers which the children find in the same place. To the Dwarfs the flowers
smell like stable litter. They can't even distinguish Aslan's voice. And his
glorious feast-pies, tongues, pidgeons, trifles, ices, and wine-tastes only like
old turnips, raw cabbage leaves, and dirty trough water. Andrew and these Dwarfs
are much like Orual in Till We Have Faces, who believes the wine and bread
Psyche gives her are just water and berries. Aslan explains that a person can
close his own eyes to the truth: "They will not let us help them. They have
chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison is only in their own minds, yet
they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be
taken out."
One reason for the tendency to lose faith in Aslan is that he is not always in
Narnia, but comes and goes. Caspian, for example, who has never seen Aslan or
Talking Beasts begins to wonder if they are only stories after all. Nikabrik
actually calls on the power of the Witch rather than Aslan because he has heard
so little about him. After Aslan's resurrection, "He just fades out of the
story," Nikabrik argues. "How do you explain that, if he really came to life?
Isn't it much more likely that he didn't, and that the stories say nothing more
about him because there was nothing more to say?" How similar this is to many of
the arguments we hear about Christ! Even Peter argues that if Narnia or anything
else is real, then they are here all the time. "Are they?" asks Professor Kirke,
hinting at the necessity for faith instead of sight.
In Prince Caspian, the children's faith determines when and how they see Aslan
during their journey to Aslan's How. Lucy, who loves Aslan perhaps more than
anyone, sees him first. The voice she likes best in the world commands, "Follow
me." Although the others don't believe and grumble loudly, they follow her
nevertheless. Certainly they won't see him at first, Aslan predicts. "Later on,
it depends." Edmund, who after all his misfortunes in an earlier adventure has
learned his lesson, sees the Shadow next; then Peter, and finally, Susan and
Trumpkin. Susan admits that her own attitude kept her from seeing him: "I really
believed it was him tonight when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I
could have, if I'd let myself." How much she is like Edmund, who deep down
inside had also known that the White Witch was bad!
One's response to Aslan is actually indicative of both his relationship to the
Lion, and his faith. Spiritual growth permits an even clearer vision of him. "Aslan,"
says Lucy, "you're bigger." "Every year you grow, you will find me bigger,"
Aslan explains. When she thumbs through the Magician's Book, then gazes up from
the picture, she sees Aslan. "I have been here all the time," said he, "but you
have just made me visible." One's response to Aslan also reflects his unique
relationship to God. Aslan tells Shasta and Aravis on separate occasions that
"No one is told any story but their own."
Faith in Aslan must also come from the heart. Emeth is accepted into Aslan's
country because his motives are true: "Son, thou art welcome .... All the
service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done to me." In contrast,
Susan apparently never really believes in her heart, for she is not granted
final admission to Aslan's country. Bree, like Thomas in the Bible, refuses to
believe Aslan is a real lion and must receive proof before he will believe. Just
as Christ urged Thomas to put his fingers in the nail prints in his hands and
feet, Aslan bids Bree: "You poor, proud, frightened Horse, draw near. Nearer
still, my son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch me. Smell me. Here are my paws,
here is my tail, these are my whiskers. I am a true Beast." " 'Aslan,' said Bree
in a shaken voice, 'I'm afraid I must be rather a fool."Happy the Horse who
knows that while still young. Or the Human either."' When disbelieving and
stubborn Trumpkin doesn't believe Aslan is a real Lion either, Aslan proves his
reality merely by tossing him gently into the air.
Time and time again, the children are called to simply have faith in Aslan. When
the leopards are afraid to go near the Witch for fear she will turn them into
stone, Peter tells them to simply trust Aslan: "It'll be all right .... He
wouldn't send them if it weren't." As Ramandu's daughter tells Caspian's group,
"You can't know .... You can only believe-or not." Who best illustrates this but
Puddleglum, who tells the Green Witch that even if the world of trees, grass,
sun, moon, stars-Aslan himself-is made up, "the made-up things seem a good deal
more important than the real ones .... I'm going to stand by the play world."
How wonderful that not only is his faith grounded in a solid reality but in a
more perfect reality than he has ever dreamed of!
In The Lion, the children fail to believe in Lucy's story about Narnia. The
professor uses the following logic: "There are only three possibilities. Either
your sister is telling lies, or she is mad, or she is telling the truth. You
know she doesn't tell lies and it is obvious that she is not mad. For the moment
then and unless any further evidence turns up, we must assume that she is
telling the truth." Lewis uses the same sort of argument in Mere Christianity
concerning belief in the claims Christ made about himself: either he was a
lunatic, or a devil of hell-or the Son of God himself.
All these varied reactions to Aslan-hate, belief, belief only with proof-
parallel one's reaction to the Witch, so that a person's attitude toward her
similarly reflects his spiritual "guard." Polly immediately dislikes her, just
as Aunt Letty, totally unimpressed, calls her a "shameless hussy!" In contrast,
both Digory and Andrew are awed by her beauty.
No matter which "side" one is on, once one has been in the presence of either
Aslan or the Witch, his perspective is never the same. After seeing the Witch,
the children find Andrew much less fearsome; after being in the Magic Wood, the
tunnel above their house seems drab and homely. The Apple of Life makes
everything in London pale in comparison: "All those other things seemed to have
scarcely any colour at all. Every one of them, even the sunlight, looked faded
and dingy .... Nothing else was worth looking at: indeed you couldn't look at
anything else."
Certainly, after meeting Aslan the Lion and being in his secret Country-no
matter what your reaction-you are never the same!