Ariel, I liked your comments on how Uncle Andrew expected to claim credit for discovering a new world hen he never wanted to go himself.
Swan, I liked your clay image of Aslan creating Narnia. It must have taken a while to get all the little patches of color just right.
Here are three more reflection entries that I only now finished typing.
Chapters 3 & 4
Something that’s meant to stand out is the faces of the previous rulers of Charn. They start as kind, but gradually become cruel and despairing, just like the noise of the bell begins as sweet but gradually becomes overwhelming and (possibly) destructive. In a way, this sort of relates to the contrast between Digory and Uncle Andrew. In my previous reflection, I mentioned Digory being a much kinder person than his uncle, going into an unknown place to help a friend, and even though I wrote that knowing what was coming with the scene of the bell, it was especially sad to read Digory’s actions in the Hall of Figures. Polly even compares Digory to Uncle Andrew, saying their expressions looked alike (p. 55). It was almost like these chapters had a theme of kindness being replaced with cruelty.
A second theme was one of magic. In chapter three, it says
Uncle Andrew, you see, was working with things he did not really understand; most magicians are.
p. 42, “The Wood Between the Worlds”
In chapter four, another magician’s work is described. In the Hall of Figures, the images and their clothes are perfectly preserved. It must have been an enchantment made long before Jadis and her sister were ever born—back in the days when the faces were kind, though who knows whether Jadis’ ancestors approved the enchantment before it was cast or simply made use of it afterwards. Charn was certainly a very vast empire when the room was first constructed, for it to be built that large, and the people who put the seats in it either expected their descendants would continue on far longer than they actually did or that the room would be used for more than just the royal family. Maybe it
was used for other people in the beginning, but as time continued and their descendants were more proud than kind, those other images were removed to make more room.
One last note. There is a picture of the images on page 51 in my book. When I was little, I liked looking at that picture and wondering what the fourth, seventh, and eighth people (from left to right) were like.
Chapters 5 & 6
When reading The Magician’s Nephew, the contrast between Uncle Andrew and Jadis is specifically pointed out. At one point, Digory realizes that he will never be afraid of Uncle Andrew again after seeing Jadis stand next to him. Jadis herself dismisses Uncle Andrew as someone who would be destroyed in her own world because he only has a small knowledge of magic instead of an innate one. Still, they are both wicked magicians who use other people to further their own goals and believe that rules should not apply to them.
One similarity that I did not think much about until reading it this time was their roles as oath breakers. Uncle Andrew’s stands out because he and Digory have a specific conversation about it.
“She gave it to me and made me promise that as soon as she was dead I would burn it, unopened, with certain ceremonies. That promise I did not keep.”
Uncle Andrew, p. 20, “Digory and His Uncle”
But Jadis’ admission of breaking a family oath, though clearly stated, never really stuck out to me in the same way.
“But the ancient kings were weak and soft-hearted and bound themselves and all who should come after them with great oaths never to seek after the knowledge of that word. But I learned it in a secret place and paid a terrible price to learn it.”
Jadis, p. 66, “The Deplorable Word"
Perhaps it did not stick out because she did not swear it personally, but it shows that even while she has a deep pride in her royalty and the role her family played in her world, even though she has a great contempt for people she thinks are outside the greatness of her family, she simultaneously despises even her ancestors who established what she is proud of.
On a different note, I found a sentence at the beginning of Chapter 6 to be rather thought –provoking.
I think that, if they had been given the chance, they would have forgotten who they were and where they came from and would have lain down and enjoyed themselves, half asleep, listening to the growing of the trees.
p. 72, “The Beginning of Uncle Andrew’s Troubles”
Waking Jadis up, bringing her to London, and then taking her to Narnia were all bad things, but I wonder a little about this quote. For Polly and Digory, it’s hard to think that staying in the Wood Between the Worlds would be bad in and of itself, but it
would take them away from their families. Perhaps they would have eventually recognized each other once again and gone home, but since it was the
change of Dogory showing up after Polly that made them try to figure out what was happening the first time, who knows?
Chapters 7 & 8
Ever since they heard Jadis’ story, Digory and Polly feared the power that Jadis had to destroy her entire world—the power of the Deplorable Word. And yet here Aslan sings indo life a whole new world, and it was a song without, or beyond, words. In the Wood Between the Worlds, Jadis lost her strength but still used words to get the children to hesitate when she called for mercy. In London, Jadis lost her power of words—Uncle Andrew is the only person in London who seems to think of her as someone who is great, even though she encounters many, many others—but kept her strength. She was unable to turn people and things into dust, yet she pulled the bar off the lamp-post. And then in Narnia, both her physical strength and her magic are completely overcome by Aslan, singing a new world into life and unaffected when she throws the iron bar at him (in the next chapter).
Ever since the song began she had felt that this whole world was filled with a Magic different from hers and stronger. She hated it. She would have smashed that whole world, or all worlds, to pieces, if only it would stop the singing.
p. 109, “The Fight at the Lamp-post”
And yet, despite all the power Jadis once had, she could not recognize the most beautiful song she would ever hear as having any beauty.
The cabbie, King Frank as he is later, is perhaps the one who best understands the music. He sings the hymn even before he hears Aslan’s song (other people might not think of music when suddenly in a situation they don’t understand), and even after Jadis and Uncle Andrew start arguing with Digory and Polly over the rings and trying to go to another world, the cabbie dismisses it all so he can hear the music uninterrupted. He wants to hear Aslan even if it means ignoring a conversation that could well relate to his entire future. Later, when his wife comes, she responds directly to music and Aslan’s voice. It is sweet to imagine them singing together as the king and queen that Aslan chose them to be. But that’s more of a thought for future chapters.
As a completely ridiculous end note, please consider:
First came the hansom. There was no one in the driver’s seat. On the roof—not sitting, but standing on the roof—swaying with superb balance as it came at full speed round the corner with one wheel in the air—was Jadis the Queen of Queens and the Terror of Charn.
p. 93, “What Happened at the Front Door”
She thought the Witch must be someone out od a circus and she did not approve of bare arms.
p. 86, “What Happened at the Front Door”
We already know the royal house of Charn took pride in its magic, but what else did they do in their spare time? Perhaps Aunt Lettie was closer to the truth than she knew.