How Narnia Made Me a Witch

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But Lewis is a mystic, and Aslan is a deity who bursts out of the confines of any dogma. His sensibility is as Pagan as his theology is Christian. The book is steeped in the imagery of nature, and while the Christian mythology is covert, the Greek mythology is front and center, with fauns, naiads, dryads, and centaurs playing starring roles. God is a great lion you can romp with--what a powerful image of deity-in-nature!

What I miss most in Lewis' books, now, is some powerful, positive woman figure. J.R.R. Tolkien gives us Galadriel, Arwen, and Eowyn who chafes against the restrictions of her gender. But for Lewis, positive visions of female power are limited to little girls and mothers.

And yet the White Witch is also, ironically, an icon of the White Goddess, the ancient, pre-Christian Goddess of Old Europe, in her death aspect. She is evil, but she is also powerful. And somehow, as a young girl reading these stories, I took away some hint that it is possible for a woman to be something radically different from a mom, a social worker, a teacher, a nurse, or any of the role models around me.

And it is Lucy, a young girl, who opens the door to Narnia and leads the others in, who holds to her own truth against opposition and betrayal. Although her brothers fight the physical battles, Lucy fights a moral battle with her own family, staunchly defending the truth of her experience in the face of their united disbelief, and Edmund's outright lies.

I can look back from an adult perspective, now, and see all the ways in which Lewis' vision was constricted by the attitudes of his time, his fear of women's power, his unquestioned assumption that people of his own race and class were the only ones who really matter.

But what stays with me are the deeper lessons in the books, the values that still, today, transcend denominations and offer a needed antidote to a world of reality TV shows, cutthroat businesses, and attack-dog politics. The books teach us that courage, friendship, and loyalty are good, and sneaking, lying, sniveling, and betrayal are bad. That people need to take care of each other, stand with each other, and look out for those who are younger or weaker. That sacrifice is sometimes necessary to save what we love.

That book the librarian handed me, so long ago, set me on my own spiritual journey. Whenever I caught a whiff of Narnia, of a world behind the world, more fluid and magical than this, I pursued it. I read fantasy, mythology, history, anthropology. I went out into nature, listened to the wind in the trees and the waves on the shore. And ultimately, I found my way to the Goddess, the great cycle of birth, growth, death, and regeneration that moves through nature and human culture. For me, Aslan is one of her names.

Now, of course, I know that that magical world exists, right here. Animals do talk: All it takes is the will to listen and the ears to hear. All of life is constantly communicating, and magic is simply the training of the mind to be open to the conversation going on all around us. Nature does shimmer with enchantment, and her powerful but fragile life does require all of our courage and loyalty, and sometimes great sacrifice, to protect.

I'm looking forward to the movie. I hope it does justice to the book. And I hope it introduces a new generation of children to enchantment, and to those values of caring, courage, loyalty and truth that are necessary to preserve a world where true magic can flourish.

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