ch. 1-2

Eustace is enough to try the patience of a saint.
The real sea is colder than it looked when it was paint.

Love your one-line summaries Swan!!!

VDT was my favourite of the Chronicles when I was a child. It's still up there but HHB and SC have a special place now too. Anyway, excited for this since I haven't read it since 2015 - the last time we read it for the Summer Challenge.

I'm reading the relatively-new Afrikaans translation this year. (Apparently they were published in 2015 but I only started seeing them around frequently last year). The first four books (published order) were published years back but they have now translated all seven (and the original four are new translations). I suspect this is related to the copyright being expired in SA. Anyway, this is my first time reading VDT in translation. Its translated title is "Die Vaart van die Dagbreker." I can't decide if I like or dislike "Daybreaker" as the translation of "Dawntreader"; it doesn't have quite the same effect.

Inspired by Eustace Clarence Scrubb himself, (and Kristi's tradition), I'm going to try to do limericks this year. (Real poets here forgive me if I break meter or other rules. Notice my use of assonance, not rhyming, in the last line )

Chapter 1
There once was a young boy named Scrubb
His cousins the wrong way he'd rub
He laughed at their "game"
And fell through the frame
Perceiving the ship as a "tub"

Chapter 2
There was a brave mouse known as Reep
Each day on the prow watch he'd keep
A boy pulled a prank
His tail he did yank
Yet the boy was the one who would squeak

Chapter 1
(Clarence)

Eustace blessed with complicated name,
Stodgy and unwieldy and strange —
From the beginning there's hope, just the same.
Light shines in the middle, hidden from you.
Clarence, from Clare, shining and true.
If I told you back then you'd have thought me deranged.

You're snide and scoffing, but lonely, I think
On the pages where we first meet.
You haven't yet been drawn to the brink.
So fond of knowledge, but only when dead;
Pinned down to favor your superior head –
Wild Life will sweep you off your feet.

@Aj: Fun limericks you got there!
@Lily: Oooooooooh… that’s brilliant! I love how you use his name to foreshadow the good that’ll come!

Chapter 1:

Based on the first paragraph, I’m gonna start off with a bit of cheat by sharing a short fic I’d written two years ago about Harold Scrubb. The idea was to give a little backstory to elements of Eustace’s upbringing. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13809624/9/In-the-Way-They-Should-Go
You know… I’m not sure I noticed that Eustace “liked animals… if they were dead”. I think I’d always focused on the beetles and bugs part, but not so much the fact that he felt this way about any and all animals. His coming abhorrence of Reep makes more sense now, even though he does specifically say he hates mice.
Interesting that Susan is “otherwise very old for her age”. I wonder if this is a mark of her already growing up and growing closer to her own world, or if this is simply a facet of her personality quite apart from Narnia.
It strikes me a little funny that for all the implied Spartan-ness of the Scrubbs’ home, it’s also implied that there are at least a few pictures, given that the ship is the “only” one Edmund and Lucy like.
Gotta give props to Caspian for being so cheery about his new “merry shipmate”. Of course it’s easier when he’s only met Eustace five minutes ago, and that not in the best of circumstances, but still.

Chapter 2:

Aaaand cheating again, but this time with a Reep poem. Though the poem was in tribute to someone who entered Aslan’s Country earlier this year, much of it reflects what Reep says in this chapter, and some of what comes later. [ur] https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14223995/1/The-Utter-East [/url]
Though Caspian phrases it so offhandedly, cheerily, even carelessly in a way, I love how direct he is about making sure that his captain and first mate are accommodated well. He was already swift about giving up his own comfort for Lucy, but this not only demonstrates that he doesn’t pull rank (and one that he absolutely has the right to pull), but that he’s shrewd, considerate, and just as committed to his people’s wellbeing.
“Harold says one of the most cowardly things ordinary people do is to shut their eyes to Facts.” He’s not wrong.

😆 I love your limericks Ajjie 🙂 They make me smirk.

What a great poem, Lily! I like how delve into the meaning of his name.

An interesting take on Harold, Ariel. I've never really thought about him very much.

Ch. 3-4
A narrow mind in narrow haven harbours heartless charts and greed.
A youthful king puts on a show. The law is changed, the slaves are freed.

Chapter 2
A Year and a Day

He set himself a deadline,
Not knowing where it lead–
How wide the world he wandered,
And him the head
Of state.
His country had to wait
On his oath,
But not too long.
He'd plotted his path
With a ship, a hope, a song.

@Swan: All thanks to a fic prompt, haha. I’d taken for granted that the Scrubbs are overly pretentious based on how Lewis talks about them, even though there are things on which I intersect with them or can agree on. But it struck me that it’s just as likely, if not more, that at least some of those lifestyle choices had a basis in something else.

Chapter 3:

Tsk. Lewis. Such a tease. You’d not heard of how the Lone Islands came to be part of Narnia, but promised to tell the story if it was at all interesting. And then you name-dropped the story in LB with no more than a single-sentence summary.
Bit presumptuous of Edmund to say that Felimath still looks uninhabited. Quite apart from the centuries past his own familiarity with the island, they’re a great deal too far off to tell that it’s uninhabited, surely.
Have I ever made the connection between slavers’ opinion of Reep and Aslan’s warning of what would happen to Reep if he were to enter our world? I’m not sure I have…. I guess Reep forgot too, or at least didn’t think that he’d be a curiosity outside of Narnia. Then again… he presumably did enough talking in Galma, Terebinthia, and the Seven Isles.
“His father’s very voice and trick of speech.” Given how young Caspian was when he lost his father, I doubt he actually learned it from him. It brings to mind a conversation I had with someone recently who reunited with a child after nearly two decades, and found that the child, who would have been too young back when to know these details about her mother, had similar mannerisms, reading preferences, flavour profiles, uncommon turns of phrase, and so on.

Chapter 4:

I do dearly love seeing a man take charge with authority. Caspian does this very well indeed. He’s quite grown up since the last book, and handles the business of the Lone Islands like it’s perfectly natural to march in like he owns the place (he does, but you know what I mean), set things to right, lay the law, and carry it all with grace enough to make it clear that he’s a good king.
Oh, good gravy. I’d hate to be the treasurer of the Lone Islands. Going back through 150 years’ worth of records would be a colossal pain in this world with current technology, never mind what the Lone Islands have! (Luckily for the treasurer, Caspian didn’t bother.)
How on earth did bidding for a solid labourer start at 10 crescents when Pug wanted 300 for Caspian and Eustace was discounted at 5?! On a completely unrelated note, the auction carried on entirely regardless of all the excitement of the king’s procession.
The level of trust Caspian has for the men he puts (and leaves) in charge is a thing of beauty. He’s only been king three years, but he knows what kind of leaders his domain needs in his absence… and more than that, he finds such men as can rule to the best of their ability and for the good of the nation in service to their king. And on the flip side, I’m reminded of the parables of the stewards, in which the master leaves something in the keeping of his servants, and they make good their investments on his behalf till his return. We’re not regents of magical lands or dukes of islands in upheaval, but we are stewards of the King over all high kings, and it is no less our duty to take what He’s left to our charge and do well with it.

Oops. Posted these last night then forgot to hit "submit" after checking the preview. Oh well.

Loving your poems, Lily. Especially the name-etymology inspired one. I also like the way you describe Eustace's current state while foreshadowing the hope of change. Thanks for your links and other thoughts, Ariel.

Chapter 3
They found a good lord known as Bern
Whose life took a quite different turn
For love he did find
On the Isles stayed behind
And not to the voy'ge did return

Chapter 4
There was a bad gov'ner named Gumpas
He was not prepared for the rumpus
When the King and his men
Came to visit again
And was fooled by a trick and some trumpets

Chapter 3
"Same Old"

They came ashore for a lark
(And it was singing!),
And to dig bare toes into the warm sand,
And relax in the echo
Of a memory ringing.
They should have known how far the land
Could change, over so much time.
Had they not learned that lesson before,
In the harsh schools of Paravel's ruins,
Silent woods, and river dug in gorge?
Lucy and Ed, you came home
To a peninsula made an island.
Why should this island be the same?
But still you hoped for simple joys,
Evoked by a familiar name.

---

Chapter 4
Gatekeeping

Change doesn't come on your schedule,
You see,
You poor man.
We watch you stumble forth
From the door you're meant to guard
To greet a King.
Half-hearted demands about second Saturdays
No longer mean a thing.
The sun blazes on his armor,
While you're in your worst, and shedding stray crumbs.
Will you or nil you, jubilee has come,
Certain and cold as sea-spray
That slaps your face from a picture-frame
You hide in a spare bedroom.
You're in a thoughtless bubble, gatekeeper,
As sure as Eustace Clarence with his hopes of consuls.
Will you listen when reality breaks in?

---

Chapter 5
Deeper In

The island "does not welcome visitors"
But it is silently waiting.
It is waiting, rich with woods
And distant waterfalls,
And mirror-smooth water brooding.
The others hop to it,
Creating their own bustle,
And drowning out the strange solemnity.
You're unready to work, you'd say,
But also fearful of society.
These jolly folk rewritten in your mind
As "fiends," all ready to lash out:
Kidnappers, uncivilized, who'd threaten
Proper torture for a mere cup of water
Past the lips of a sick man.
Well then, away from their sham
Civilization you go,
Higher and deeper where you are not welcomed,
But at least the island has no voice
To say you nay.
You think you'll spend a restful day
In safety, far from the stupid floating prison.
But still when you are far from them,
You are prisoner to fear.
Even here, the twisted shadows,
Caricatures of your companions,
Haunt you.
The fog around you closes in
And you feel you cannot win,
Cannot rest in safety even now.
You fear that they will set their prow
And sail away, and leave you lost,
And leave you lonely
As you never thought you'd be.
And still, the island waits
To seal your fate.
Somewhere close,
There sounds a giant heartbeat…

---

Chapter 6
When the Fog Clears

When the fog clears
You find you're in
The steep trench of your personal hell,
Fire-char on its embankments.

When the fog clears
You find that the
Path of descent was so narrow,
You wonder how you ever made it.

When the fog clears
You find you're on
The brink of something darker still,
And strange new threats are moving.

When the fog clears,
Your world is changing:
You've crawled farther outside your frame
Of reference than any mere
Magic picture-frame could shift you,
You've nearly plumbed the bottom
Of the lonely pit within your heart,
And there is one more step
To meet its scaly center.

The world is wilder,
And yet truer,
Than your corkboards of neatly labeled samples
Ever knew that it could be,
Here,
When the fog clears.

So Ajjie got sick Wednesday night and fell behind. But I managed these last night. Ch 5 was hard as I was hoping there would be a new character or Island each chapter. But her goes. I wasn't finished Ch 6 at the tine so Eustace had just found out he was a dragon. Blame brainfog for the silliness.

Chapter 5
There came up a very great storm
The mast from the ship was torn
There were creakings and groanings
And snappings and moanings
And the ship came out rather forlorn.

Chapter 6
There was a young knave known as Eustace
The books that he read were all useless
He knew not of dragons
Would care more for wagons
The armband he found proved a nuisance.

I'm finished with 7 so will try get more tomorrow.

Ch. 5-6

The storm drives the ship to the island
The rain drives the boy to the cave
to gather up gold by the handful
and dream by the old dragon's grave.

I like your Gumpas limerick, Aj, and your Eustace poems, Lily!

Chapter 5:
For some reason, it never really clicked in my mind before that Lucy got new clothes!
"For his mind was full of forlorn hopes, death-or-glory charges, and last stands." Feeling a little melancholy, Reep? "Forlorn hopes" doesn't seem like you.
Being a landlubber, I've never truly appreciated just how terrible a stormy sea is. This sounds horrible. And for twelve days (everybody but Eustace says twelve, so that's probably correct). And in uncharted waters. They're really at the mercy of the sea, and there's only so much they can do to weather the storm.
Pre-dragon Eustace would really fit into current western mindset of making oneself the victim....
Infuriating as it is, it's also sad that he only sees Lucy's attempt to share her as an action done "for some reason". He doesn't even try to frame it as pity or even self-serving mollification. Similarly his view of Caspian's empathy as patronizing behaviour. Between these and his "unselfish" act of not waking anyone to ask for water, he's very much proving that perception colours one's view of the world and that it can be that easy to convince yourself of something you want to believe.

Chapter 6:
Here the chapter opens with everybody else enjoying what Eustace wishes he could have: a good meal, all the water they could want, and truly restful rest. (Of course, the latter gets spoiled in their alarm over his absence, while he gets a good nap in.)
I realized some years ago that, similar to HHB though not as overtly, Aslan has his paw in the proceedings throughout the book. Eustace's "amazing luck" in sliding down the one and only safe way to the valley floor is reminiscent of Aslan shielding Shasta from the edge of the mountain path. In this case, Aslan isn't physically here, nor does Eustace later attribute it to him, but it did lead Eustace to the dragon treasure, his dragoning, his lesson, and then his undragoning. It wasn't luck, as Eustace supposes here: it was grace that leads him to redemption.

Chapter 7
Claws and Water

Sand-scrawling has its disadvantages
When you are trying to write your own story,
And you don't know how to write a story,
And you've only your claws to write with
And compete against the surf.
You're scrambling to show new vantages,
Stripped of all close-held vainglory–
For this monstrous hide can hold no glory–
Wanting only to speak again to your kith,
Even mediated by wet earth.

Then moonlight meets you where it should not be
And charts a jungle path to set you free.

You can finally speak with your tongue of your rebirth
Although it sounds to your own ears like dream or myth.
Another's claws wrote deep in your hide
And stripped you clean til you couldn't hide,
And you were thrown into a well of living water
That un-wrote your fearful story,
Like your sandy faltering script.
Old skin and new heartsong are all you kept.

I love your Chapter 6 reflections, Ariel. Aslan the irony of Eustace's actions and Aslan's paw in everything.

Here's a selection of some of my favourite lines from your poems, Lily (I shared some of these on my phone the other day and lost them when the page refreshed):
"They came ashore for a lark/(And it was singing!)"
"In the harsh schools of Paravel's ruins"
"Change doesn't come on your schedule"
"These jolly folk rewritten in your mind/As "fiends..." "
"There sounds a giant heartbeat…"
"You've crawled farther outside your frame/Of reference than any mere/Magic picture-frame could shift you"
"And you were thrown into a well of living water"

Your Chapter 6 poem is my favourite so far, but Ch 7 is also beautifully told and gives me happy-feels