My first (successful) reread in a long while of a childhood favourite. I attempted to reread it a couple of years ago but was so put off by the narrator that I had to put it down. Now, about four years into my literary studies at university, I was surprised to find the narration to be the most compelling element of LWW. What had struck me as old-fashioned and one-dimensionally patronizing about the narrator (an adult voice that explicitly addresses a child audience), I perceived as layered and skillfully crafted this time around. The narrator is very present throughout the book, which unfortunately comes at the cost of the reader’s direct access to the characters. However, the narration is also very dynamic, guiding the reader through the story and granting them access to Narnia by way of engaging all their senses and making full use of their imagination. At the same time, the narrator serves as a frequent reminder that we are reading a work of fiction. This carefully executed double function which creates both immersion and distance is what really makes this a literary classic worth revisiting as an adult. 

 

Densely populated with intertextual references, the text incorporates religious elements, folk tales and myth. A particularly strong tie is made to Christian Andersen’s Snow Queen (which incidentally was the first instance of intertextuality in any book I remember picking up on and really pondering as a child). Consulting some of the academic literature on Narnia further enriched my reading experience. I fell down a rabbit hole of reading up on the deliberate exclusion of sexuality and violence in Narnia – which, in the manner of Freud’s return of the repressed, seep through from the subtext to the surface of the text at some points (cf. Jennifer L. Miller (2009): “No Sex in Narnia? […]”). 

Sexuality seems to be deliberately excluded from Narnia altogether (per Lewis’ conviction that children’s books should exemplify a pure, uncorrupted state of humanity); but it creeps in nonetheless. In the intertext of the Snow Queen – where Lewis substitutes kisses for Turkish delight –; in Aslan’s romp with Lucy and Susan; and, – my favourite example – in Peter’s battle with the wolf, where the description is suddenly overtaken by violent, nightmarish sexual imagery, that is starkly confronting in the context of the rest of the book: 

 

 

There are other deliciously written passages, such as the ride of Lucy and Susan on Aslan through Narnia. 

 

I appreciated the relatively slow-paced first two thirds of the book; the third act seemed a bit rushed. Another weakness of this book is that the characters, apart from Edmund, are afforded little to no psychological depth (which is probably a reason why I loved the 2005 film growing up – it does a good job of fleshing out the four siblings and creating an interesting dynamic between them). 

 

I debated whether the lackluster last third is enough to knock LWW down to a 3.5 stars for me, but I finally decided on a 4-star-rating because of the quality of the narration and the enjoyability of the majority of the book. 

I remember it fondly from childhood, but the writing style is a little strange to read now. Good to do a watch-along with the movie.