At the start of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis writes, “Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” This is quite true for me as I make my way through the Chronicles of Narnia. By the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, I found myself wishing, with Lucy, that my time in Narnia would not come to an end. Lewis does not merely write a good story, but weaves a world so marvelous that I didn’t want to leave.
Whether or not my love for Narnia derives partially from the parallels I see with the Christian gospel, I think it would still be fair to say that Narnia feels like a world with a true soul. There is a kind of mythic, whimsical quality to it in all the talking creatures and soft magic, but its wonder is completed in a rich symbolism and childlike wonder.
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, in particular, cemented my love for Narnia. I quite liked The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and I also enjoyed Prince Caspian, but this one went deeper, stretching the limits of the world. The plot premise—a voyage to the end of the world—allows Lewis to explore more interesting ideas and settings. At the very least, encountering each new island with the Pevensies and Caspian feels like a new adventure. A little past that, we learn something about greed, temptation, hope, kindness, faith, fear, and courage.
Despite some unpredictability, the story still feels safe in the sense that a children’s fairy tale does. The danger may be real and terrifying, injuries may be sustained, and scars may be carried, but in the end, darkness does not (cannot) prevail. I actually found this refreshing. I’ve read and watched enough stories that venture into places too dark for my liking. There’s a place for more realistic violence in other stories, but Narnia feels much more kind than other fantasy worlds. I’ve missed the joy of pure escapism without the threat of chilling fear. (I’m either getting soft or getting old enough to start reading fairy tales again.)
Beneath the sense that Narnia is alive, brimming with areas not explored by Lewis’s pen, is the feeling that the story of the Pevensies is really only the shadow of a far greater, far more expansive story. Lewis is already well-known for using the first book of the series as an allegory for the gospel, but beyond that narrow example, each book encapsulates a tiny bit of the glory we can barely glimpse and yet long for. Other fantasy stories may tell a very good story in admirable writing—and there’s nothing wrong with doing so—but the Chronicles of Narnia reflect the splendor of the very greatest story there ever was.