Ordinary Magic
A New Look at Narnia and a March round-up
“The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe” has sunk into modern consciousness as a Christmas story. Snow and pine trees and Father Christmas and an ice witch—because of these elements, it is at Christmas that we see the play performed, and at Christmas that the 2005 film was released.
But LWW is not a Christmas story. If anything, it is an Easter story. Christmas has the same place in Narnia that it does in real Christian history: the birth of hope after a long winter, the sign of coming redemption.
This spring, events in my life lined up so that I ended up spending the last week of Lent reading LWW alongside our Easter preparations. It was a tremendously beautiful experience, and like with most good books, I experienced something new this time through.
When I think of the magic of Narnia, I think of Aslan, (of course), and talking animals and magical creatures and walking trees, and impossible islands. However, when I read LWW this time, I was startled to realize where the real magic lies—beyond Aslan, that is, because Aslan is of course the deepest magic of the books.
In LWW, Lewis does not spend an extravagant amount of time describing fantasy things. The witch, her castle, the creatures—these are given minimal descriptions. But what goes on for paragraphs?
The enchantment of an unexpected and untouched winter forest.
The beauty of a simple, filling meal.
The eucastrophe of spring, brought into sharp relief by its sudden appearance after interminable winter.
Every single passage that deeply moved me in LWW was not something fantastical—it was something real, from our own world.
For we all know the magic of the first snowfall, or the fullness of heart and body after a good meal with loved ones, or that joyous first walk among melting snow and blooming crocuses after ages and ages of dark and cold.
Even the appearance of Father Christmas, as the spell breaks, is thrilling not because it is the ‘real’ Father Christmas, but because most of us have experienced that overwhelming delight of a bounteous Christmas morning.
And circling around back to Aslan—the love and awe and miracles that surround his character—we meet the truest reality of that on Easter morning, in our own hearts and churches.
Fantasy is escapism, this is true. For much of my childhood I yearned so badly to step through a door to Narnia, or Middle Earth, or another fantastical land. What a surprise to reach adulthood and learn that I’m already living in the most magical parts of all?
This isn’t a new concept. I went through the same revelation with Tolkien a few years ago, and I’m sure it’s been expounded upon by many longer pieces than this! Yet, my personal experience this year and new awareness of Lewis’s focus were so dramatic and eye-opening for me, that I simply had to share them.
If you’re interested in looking at some of my other Narnia ramblings, check out my reviews of some of the films (Prince Caspian, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader). Or see if you can spot the various Narnia references through my three novels. I restrained myself from overdoing it, but…I couldn’t resist making a few in Lilibet in particular!
Actually, as I write this, I can definitely see similarities in how both Lewis and I like to write immersive descriptions that find the magic in the ordinary. This is particularly evident in The Song of the Fay!
Speaking of which, my last watercolor illustration was such an elaborate piece, that I only managed one full process video in March. “Mermaid+Twilight on the Seine River” was quite ambitious! If you’d like to check it out (and learn how a broken foot changed my life for the better), you can find it here.
Also in March, a social media discussion prompted me to create this showcase of what the workday of an author looks like beyond pounding the keys (which is not nearly as large a percentage of our work as one might imagine). Click the image above to slide through the whole piece.
In other news, I’ve been struggling with that aspect of mom-life which involves terrible delays to replying to messages that are not time sensitive. If you’re waiting for something from me, thank you for your patience! The past month has been very full and overwhelming (in both good and difficult ways).
Wishing you a spring of joy in ordinary magic!
P.s. As a parting nostalgic gift, here’s a link to the captivating opening theme of the original BBC Narnia series. Enjoy!
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