Lessons from Literature: A Cautionary Tale for the Difficult Path (The Silver Chair)

Before the craziness of the new semester starts, I decided to enjoy a fast and easy read. There’s something about quickly getting a book in the “finished” column that helps to start the new year off in a positive frame of mind. My selection in 2019 has been C. S. Lewis’s The Silver Chair, the sixth book in his well-known Chronicles of Narnia series (or fourth, depending on which order you adhere to), and I’m almost half-way through (So no spoiler alerts! It’s my first time reading it—and, yes, I am well aware I’m woefully late to the game).

What I love about Lewis is his way of illuminating realities of the human condition and experience of which we only become conscious once we read his words. It’s as if his statement in The Four Loves about friendship could be applied to the relationship between him and us his readers when we exclaim, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one” (p. 65). Having not even made it to the midway point of the book, I’ve already marveled at his insight on several occasions. One particularly thought-provoking passage comes near the end of chapter six. . . .

Eustace and Jill are making their way through giant’s country with their new acquaintance Puddleglum in search of the lost prince of Narnia. It has been a long, difficult journey with little in the way of physical comforts, and after crossing an unexpected bridge, they meet two figures on horseback—a silent knight and a lady. The woman tells them of Harfang, a city of supposedly Gentle Giants where they can find food and comfortable shelter, before bidding them adieu. Lewis then describes the aftermath of their encounter with the woman:

They could think about nothing but beds and baths and hot meals and how lovely it would be to get indoors. They never talked about Aslan or even about the lost prince, now. And Jill gave up her habit of repeating the signs over to herself every night and morning. She said to herself, at first, that she was too tired, but she soon forgot all about it. And though you might have expected that the idea of having a good time at Harfang would have made them more cheerful, it really made them more sorry for themselves and more grumpy and snappy with each other and with Puddleglum. (pp. 92-93) 

In this short paragraph, Lewis masterfully does what allegorists do best. Disarming us with a compelling story, he hits us with a gut punch of truth about our own tendencies to misapply our focus and the negative consequences of doing so. Line by line, we see warnings of what we can succumb to when faced with trying, uncomfortable situations.

We so easily can become obsessed with the physical to the neglect of the spiritual, just as Jill and Eustace did. We can fixate on what we don’t have, as they did, instead of being thankful for what we do have. Getting wrapped up in our temporal condition, we can cease setting our minds on God, just as the children stopped talking about Aslan. We can forsake the cultivation of spiritual disciplines and the practice of meditating on Scripture, just as Jill forgot to meditate on the signs that Aslan had told her to remember. We can wallow in self-pity instead of counting our blessings, and we can become cross with others, even those who are closest to us, just as the children did.

The scenario described in this scene is reminiscent of another of Lewis’s works, The Screwtape Letters, in which the demons use temporal cares to distract the human from more meaningful, eternal concerns. And just like The Screwtape Letters, this passage from The Silver Chair is a literary gift, reminding us to be watchful for the enemy’s snares and to be diligent in consciously choosing to focus on the spiritual blessings we have in Christ (Eph. 1:3) instead of on how distressing and challenging our immediate circumstances may be or on how supposedly verdant the grass on the other side of the proverbial fence is.

In 2019, let’s learn from Lewis’s cautionary tale and catch ourselves when our attitudes start drifting toward griping and dissatisfaction. Let’s consistently cultivate our relationship with God, show care in our relationships with others, and live in the difficult, beautiful, sanctifying present with contentment and joy. Because no matter what discomforts we face, we have the hope that never fails, the eternal love and grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Happy New Year!

Lewis, C. S. The Four Loves. Orlando: Harcourt, 1991.

Lewis, C. S. The Screwtape Letters. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.

Lewis, C. S. “The Wild Waste Lands of the North.” In The Silver Chair. New York: Scholastic, 1995.