A New Way of Looking at Narnia, Perhaps?

One opposition I have often seen in people towards Narnia is that "it is an allegory and Aslan is blatantly Jesus". They find that it is too simplistic, and when they pursue their evidence, they find it is tangled and confusing, which is even worse because it's not even a perfectly clear allegory or metaphor for Christ and Christianity.

I disagree with this, however. I am reading Wetherbee's translation of Silvestris's Cosmographia (I may yet drag Greg into reading it in Latin with me!), and I am seeing parallels in the story telling to what I see in Narnia. Or rather, parallels in the understanding of the relation of the story to the "real" world. Especially right now I am seeing a different way of understanding the figure of Aslan. In Cosmographia there is a character called Noys (νουσ). She is not God, nor is she Jesus. Neither does she appear to be created or creation. She is rather the mens dei, the mind of God, Providence, "true Minerva to me".¹ She is, in a way, that pattern of God's mind upon which the universe is founded. From what I understand of the whole story, God never once figures Himself in it. Rather, Noys is His representative to Natura, Hyle/Silva (primordial matter personified), et al.

The role of Aslan holds some similar characteristics to the role of Noys. Aslan is not the Emperor over the sea, nor is he really an exact parallel to Jesus. Aslan's primary role, in many ways, is as a guide for Narnia, and he ultimately keeps and restores Narnia to order, to the pattern intended for it. He creates the world and sets people to rectify its flaw from the beginning (the presence of Jadis, also similar to the flawed nature of Silva); later he restores Narnia from the curse of the Hundred Years' Winter; and throughout all of the story of Narnia we see Aslan acting as a director and judge of sorts, conforming creation to the pattern for which it was created.

I'm still only just beginning to investigate, so this is still a certain degree of speculation, of course. We will see how far I can reasonably take this and hopefully I'm not stretching it beyond reasonability.



1 Vite viventis ymago,
Prima, Noym -- deus -- orta deo, substantia veri,
Consilii tenor eterni, michi vera Minerva"

The image of living life, first, Noys -- God -- rising from God, substance of truth, course (pattern) of eternal counsel, true Minerva to me

Victor Turner Strikes Back!

Alison mentioned our old friend Victor Turner this evening to me, and then in discussion with Greg I realised that liminal theory could be applied to the notion of Other in society.

For those who are not familiar with Arthur Van Gennep's liminal theory, later used by the anthropologist Victor Turner, it goes as follows:

There are three stages: Separation, Liminality, and Reaggregation. First a person is separated from their community; then they are in a state that is called Liminality where they are neither a member of the community, nor a stranger; then, once whatever rites of passage need to be completed, they are taken in again, or reaggregated, back into society with a new status. The concept comes from the Latin word limen meaning "threshold". When you are on the threshold you are neither in nor out of the house. You are in a state of liminality.

Apply this then to the notion of Other. I will direct you to Alison's post at In The Middle where she says, regarding the role of disabled people in the sacraments in the Middle Ages, that

[t]he ritual difference between a child and an adult is the basis for my use of the term “sacral disability”: being barred or hindered from full participation (inclusion in the rites and sacred responsibilities considered the norm for their age) in the religious life of the community due to a perceived Otherness. Spiritual adulthood carries different rights and responsibilities than legal adulthood, and thus the requirements for sacral adulthood do not necessarily correspond to the requirements for legal adulthood, and this highlights the need to examine each vernacular in its own context.

What we see here in this suggestion is that in the case of sacral disability, someone is being denied permission to take part in an essential rite of maturity in a community: they may not step onto and across that limen that will take them to adulthood. Disability, then, may be described in terms of whether or not one is permitted to undertake that liminal experience at all. If one is not permitted to take the Sacrament of Penance or the Eucharist, why? If it is a status question, in terms of not having attained adult or mature status through the community's rite of passage, why have they not undertaken this rite? If the community is blocking them, why and how? Preventing an individual from undertaking a rite of passage must be for a reason and it is liable to set up a state of Other, although may not necessarily do so.

This may not describe all cases of Other, but it is a different way of considering the notion which I must examine further.

Sense and the Other

I've often thought on the senses and how people experience them. Last night Greg and I were talking about how there is an inherent sense of Other between people in that we cannot know through their person how they are experiencing something. We can know through a series of metaphors and things that are similar in our own experiences, but we cannot know it through their own bodies and souls. This, of course, speaks to a certain weakness of language in its inability to clearly express certain things fully.

Along with that discussion came up the experience of music, and how we experience music. Music is not experienced merely aurally, but on some level that is deeper. Greg said that it is almost visual, which struck me because that is also how I tend to experience music. There is something behind the eyes, just beyond my reach, but I can often sense a whole series of scenes and images when I listen to music. In the same way, light has volume and sound. How often have we said that a very brightly coloured shirt is loud?

And this, I think, can probably be extended to all of the senses in truth. They are not merely experienced on the surface through the organ that receives them, but they are experienced deeper. How many people have memories associated with smell, so that even the scent of it draws up an emotional well? How many find that sound and light draw out images and signs and hearing in our soul? Even touch and taste must hold keys to our memories, our experiencing of the world.

I suspect they go deeper to a common root, a central core. There is some centre in our being that receives this input and interprets it holistically. Psychologists and scientists will speak of the plasticity of the brain -- its ability to adapt itself in the occasion of injury or unusual differences to allow for normal functioning in an abnormal manner in terms of what part of the brain is doing what. Perhaps this is related to that, but I believe that receiving of sensory input goes to a centre that is not just divisions of the optical, and the aural, and the olfactory, and the gustatory, and the tactile, but from those divided regions on the surface of the sphere to the core of it where there is no Smell, or Sight, or Sound, or Taste, or Touch, but rather it is the heart of Sense. Just as there is neither Jew nor Greek, they are made one as Sense in the hearts of people.

Perhaps I am entirely off base on this. Perhaps I am not. Perhaps I am merely rambling by this point. But if this is indeed the case, what does this mean for our experience of the world, and what does this mean for the divisions of the world between One and Other? If this mingling of the senses into Sense is true in each of us, does it expand beyond that to something that resembles a greater consciousness, a greater awareness? Is it simply restricted to individuals and we are forever divided by our experiences?

And suddenly I am reminded of the notions of Catholic Mystery. Especially of the Mystery of the Trinity and the Mystery of union in marriage and union of the Body of Christ that is the Church and the Eucharist. Is it possible that this centre that is Sense in all of us is not just real, but essential for our being and that it ties into that which comes from Christ and makes us One and Whole with Him?

Sonnets of Lightness and Darkness

In a step away from academic endeavors, I recently received a reminder of an online journal, The Alexandrian, reaching near the deadline for its July issue, themed Time and Eternity. I decided to send in two sonnets I wrote some time ago which are read as a pair, Sonnets of Lightness and Darkness. They are something of a cosmology with an element of psychomachia. It had been my plan to submit them to a journal some time ago, but I never got around to it. Greg was kind enough to help me edit them into their present copy. His insights on the senses and the use of visuals was most helpful indeed!

And now, I guess, I wait to see if they are accepted.