20 December 2005
Allegory, Myth, and The Chronicles of Narnia
Like most life-long readers of The Chronicles of Narnia, I am really looking forward to the release of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in December. I used to do my homework on C.S. Lewis' desk in the afternoons during my first year at Wheaton and thought it was the coolest thing ever (before it became a dead museum piece in the new Wade Center). Needless to say, the commercialization of the story is painful to watch. People in malls promoting the movie dressed like lions. Action figures in production and probably a video game at some point. CCM artists using the Narnia tag to try and sell their music to the mainstream. I concede that the hype offers the Church a unique opportunity to share the story with moviegoers, but I hope that those who go searching for a reading of The Chronicles this Christmas do not settle for a poor one. One distinction I find to be particularly powerful in the books separates allegorical representation from the symbolic genre that C.S. Lewis sometimes labels "myth". To further employ this terminology, the symbolism of The Chronicles of Narnia is not allegory but "incarnated myth".
What is the difference? To clarify this distinction with the example at hand, allegorical writing would examine the New Testament account of the salvation of our world and ask, "How can the historical facts of this story be retold in the land of Narnia?" or "What can we use to represent the characters of Christ, Satan, Judas, and Mary?" Myth, on the otherhand, perceives a reality and truth that transcends space and time and asks, "How would this truth that has entered into the history of our world in a particular way make itself manifest in the world of Narnia?" Allegory supposes Narnia to be a direct representation or copy of our own world. Incarnated myth supposes Narnia as a parallel world subject to the same higher order. In The Chronicles, it is made clear that Narnia's story is not meant to be a mere retelling of the story of our world. Both worlds exist side-by-side in the books and have independent histories that interact at times. Ultimately, this is most apparent at the close of The Last Battle where the two worlds are brought together into a common deeper reality.
In a letter to a fifth grade class in the United States, C.S. Lewis once wrote, "You are mistaken when you think that everything in the books 'represents' something in this world. Things do that in The Pilgrim's Progress but I'm not writing in that way. I did not say to myself 'Let us represent Jesus as He really is in our world by a Lion in Narnia': I said 'Let us suppose that there were a land like Narnia and that the Son of God, as He became a Man in our world, became a Lion there, and then imagine what would happen.' If you think about it, you will see that it is quite a different thing."
Why is the distinction important? As incarnated myth, The Chronicles allow Lewis more freedom and imagination with the story, instead of demanding that everything directly correlate with some part of the New Testament chronology. Besides allowing the author more freedom though, the use of incarnated myth as opposed to allegory is also one of the things that makes The Chronicles uniquely powerful. Instead of being a symbol that is only relevant within the borders of the story, Aslan is a character that is not intended to represent Christ but is supposed to actually be the person of the Son of God in Narnia. Aslan's sacrifice in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe may remind readers of the crucifixion and resurrection, his roles as creator and king in the other books may further reinforce the correlation, but ultimately it is at the end of The Last Battle that it becomes clear he is more than a symbol. "And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion." As the form of the lion fades, the focus is directed towards his person, and we discover that he has always been present and active in the histories of both Narnia and our world.
By suggesting that C.S. Lewis means for Aslan to be the second person of the Trinity made incarnate in the Narnian world and not an allegorical representation of the man Jesus Christ, I am not trying to advocate a dualism that tears transcendent spiritual reality from the gospel of history or favors one over the other. Elsewhere he writes, "As myth transcends thought, Incarnation transcends myth." The power of The Chronicles is amplified by the realization that the eternal Son of God we cannot help recognizing in the person of Aslan did become a man at a specific time in history. He was born into our world. He died bearing our sins and then rose again. He reigns forever as our King. The power of The Chronicles and the story of Christmas lie together there. The Myth become fact. The Word made flesh.