Ohhh, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe — the one that really feels like the heart of Narnia. Even though it wasn’t the first chronologically, it’s the doorway for most of us into Lewis’ world. And honestly? Every time I think about it, it still feels magical, like stepping into that snowy wood for the first time.
It starts so ordinary: four siblings sent away during the war, dropped into a big, old house. The normalcy of it makes the magic hit harder. Lucy finding the wardrobe is one of those scenes that never gets old. The way she pushes past the coats, and the fur brushing her cheeks turns into pine branches—ugh, it’s pure wonder. I swear, the first time I read that, I paused, almost wanting to test every wardrobe in my own house.
Then she meets Mr. Tumnus. That tea with him is so comfortable and yet very disquieting when you know that he is supposed to give her over to the White Witch. It is one such moment that reveals the way temptation and fear can corrupt even the best of people. I loved the fact that the innocence and kindness of Lucy breaks his fear and makes him confess. It established the atmosphere: courage in Narnia is not necessarily loud, it is sometimes gentle and compassionate, and sometimes quietly powerful.
The tone changes when Edmund enters Narnia first. His introduction to the White Witch is frightening in that she does not present herself as evil in general. She is eloquent, she gives him Turkish Delight (which had been famous among readers), and she appeals to his pride and resentment. This scene struck me as it was so real. We have all had times when we are so jealous or so much in need to make a point that we overreact to danger. The key to Edmund falling down is not that he is a bad man, but that he is a human being.
As soon as all the four brothers are in Narnia, things begin to seem larger, as though destiny were kicking in. I remember the house scene with the Beavers, the fire crackling, the plain meal and the low tones as they talk of Aslan. Then the weight of the story really falls on the ground: Aslan is coming. The transition of fear to hope at that moment is so strong.
And Aslan’s entrance? Honestly, goosebumps. This awe, fear and comfort that the children react to, is how it is like being exposed to something bigger than yourself. The idea that he is not safe, but he is good, has lingered with me over the years. It is such an incredibly powerful description of true power and goodness.
The scene with the Stone Table is, by any measure, one of the most touching scenes in child literature. The fact that Aslan gave himself up to save Edmund the traitor is a gut punch. It is nearly unbearable to see him mocked, shaved, bound and killed by the Witch and her creatures. That scene when Lucy and Susan weep over his corpse is one of those when the story flies above fantasy and reaches something very spiritual and crude.
And then—the turn. The Stone Table cracking, Aslan rising, stronger, brighter, alive again--so triumphant after the hopelessness. It is one of those few scenes which may make you cry and cheer simultaneously.
It is a catharsis that the last fight against the Witch is led by Aslan. I am always moved by the manner in which he gives life back to the stone figures--reforming what had been destroyed. The redemption is in its purest state. And the children entering their places as kings and queens of Narnia is such a fulfilling resolution to their quest. They were now common brothers and sisters fighting in wartime England, and then again they were kings of England and peacemakers.
And then that bittersweet ending. Them stumbling out of the wardrobe, suddenly children again, back in the professor’s house—it leaves you with this ache. Like, was it all real? Did they imagine it? But the Professor’s knowing smile seals it: oh, it was real, alright. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll stumble into Narnia too.
For me, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a story about betrayal and forgiveness, despair and hope, endings and beginnings. It’s about stepping into a world where good and evil are real, but so is redemption. And it leaves you with that ache of wonder—the kind that makes you check every wardrobe door, just in case.
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