Reimagined Childhood Classics

It’s no secret that I am a literature carnivore—and if you need proof, please flip back to the numerous previous blogs that deal with this topic head-on. To “feed” this habit, I typically go on “Book-Buying-Benders,” where I buy two or three (sometimes four) books at a time, thinking that my book hankering would be satisfied for at least two months. Barring my current circumstances, (i.e. having a toddler and virtually no free-time) this method has kept my shelves consistently stocked, and me on the look out for suggestions on new titles.

While I love diving into a new story and meeting new characters (who quickly become friends), I also LOVE rereading books from my past. Especially if it’s a novel that I had a hard time putting down; endings to a truly beautiful novel can be bittersweet because then you are forced to say goodbye. Getting to that last page, and seeing nothing but the author biography, can be a painful experience. As an author, you can only hope to elicit that kind of emotion. The only remedy for this depression-like symptom is rereading that same novel. It’s like a visiting a friend after a long separation. It’s half the reason I buy so many books instead of borrowing; whenever you need a warm hug from a friend, it’s right there waiting for you.

And for me, that’s not limited to a one-time reread.

If I REALLY love a novel—or a series—I have a tendency to reread it multiple times. Especially if there’s a lull in my “Book-Buying-Benders,” or if no current titles have struck my fancy. Perfect example for me would be The Lord of the Rings.

I believe I was 14 when I read Tolkien’s masterpiece (including The Hobbit) for the first time at the urging of my eighth grade teacher. Funnily enough, my mom had already bought me the entire series. Also, Peter Jackson’s first film of the series was coming out later that year and I—being the book snob that I was—wanted an education before I saw the film. So, I dove headfirst into the world of Middle Earth and fell deeply, deeply in love with everything Tolkien. So much so that I reread the entire trilogy every year for the five years that proceeded it. * It made me feel closer to the work and the characters who I cared so deeply for. And it gave me a bit of an edge over “newbie” fans.

*I can’t take credit for this custom. I read an interview with Christopher Lee—who played Saruman in the film adaptation and was also a friend of Tolkien’s—and he explained he had been rereading the trilogy every year for the last thirty years. Which I thought was awesome and adopted it myself.*

But every time I have reread a cherished novel, it’s always a new experience. Because you know how the story ends, your imagination is able to concentrate and pick-up on things you didn’t the first time around. Red herrings and Easter Eggs about future plot points are more obvious, or you could simply be at a different stage in your life so the story hits you in a different way.

Which is the point—albeit, longwinded—of this blog.

Have you reread a book as an adult that you loved—where the pages have permanent dogears—as a child?

Trust me; it’s fascinating!

Children’s books typically have a magical element and rely heavily on fantasy to drive their plots. This is done on purpose; a child’s mind is obviously not fully developed and their attention-span is very limited. So, in order to keep a child’s attention on the words in front of them, the author needs to present “shiny” themes; like traveling to a magical world called Wonderland, or ruby slippers (which were actually silver, but that’s another topic for another day :) ). But hidden within those “shiny” themes can be in-depth character development or symbolism that a child wouldn’t necessarily pick up on. Only the adult reader—with their years of life experience and understanding of the world—can decipher the true meaning.

This is the EXACT cover art from the edition I read as a child.

I wrote an entire paper on this exact topic in college. And the book I dissected was The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe.

During the summer, my mom used to take my sisters and I to the library at least once every two weeks—a little Easter Egg I included in Breanne’s backstory in The Witness Tree. I like to think I got my love of reading from her and those trips to our public library. We were each allowed to pick two books to take home (and one movie) and the children’s section was huge; to this day, I still remember exactly where my favorite section was and how I used to walk up and down the rows of bookshelves, individually looking at each title. But I always gravitated towards a very specific edition of The Wizard of Oz. To be honest, I’m not sure if I ever properly read this edition, because the illustrations were amazing. After the fourth time borrowing it the summer I turned nine, my mom (again, to the rescue) picked up the C.S. Lewis classic and handed it to me.

“I think you’ll like this one, Jen,” she suggested.

Little did she know that it—and the six books to follow—would become a mainstay in my reading repertoire. The Narnia series made me an avid reader—especially in the fantasy genre— as I’m sure it did for many young readers who traveled through the wardrobe with the Pevensie siblings for the first time. And it made me see the transformative nature of reading; that it can take you to your imaginations precipice.

Which is why it was crazy cool to read it again as a twenty-one year old. With a little more perspective in mind; specifically, the background of the author, C.S. Lewis.

If you didn’t know, Clive Staples Lewis wasn’t just a beloved children’s author. His true passion was theology and his Christian faith. He was prolific in his non-fiction writings on faith, and was a scholar in English literature, philosophy and theology. His Christian writings (or apologetics) are used by all Christian denominations to this day. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that his staunch devotion to his Christian faith leached into his fiction.

Or maybe you didn’t?

Now if you grew up—like me—with a Catholic education, and are able to see beyond what is written on the page, you’ll know that The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is a child’s version of the New Testament. Every major plot point is an allegory of the last days of Jesus Christ.

Examples? Sure, I got ‘em.

Aslan, the savior lion who has returned to Narnia to deliver it from the evil White Witch, is a pretty overt symbol of Christ, himself. He is characterized as good-incarnate and his return to Narnia has been prophesized; he will end winter and bring peace back to the land. Very much like the prophesized coming of the Messiah. Just look at the climax of the novel: when Aslan sacrifices himself for the life of Edmund (or Judas, the traitor, from the New Testament) and rises from the dead. Like HELLO! Exact same story!

The Pevensies (including Edmund) are clearly the Apostles, by which “Christ will build his Church,” which mirrors the trajectory of the children in Narnia; the race of man returns to Narnia, and under their leadership, peace and prosperity returns for many years.

There are also some “not-so-subtle” ties to Christianity—like the importance of Christmas in Narnia, Mr. Tumnus referring to Lucy as a “Daughter of Eve”, how Susan and Lucy attend to Aslan’s corpse (like Mary and Mary Magdalen after the crucifixion), and the miraculous powers of Aslan.

I could go on and on and on, but I won’t because I’d rather you, my reader, not click off this page :)

Do you see what I mean? It’s fascinating to see the author’s true intent, dressed up in a way children will devour it. Some will say this is subluminal indoctrination, which I don’t necessarily disagree with. Was it C.S. Lewis’ ultimate plan to convert thousands of children to Christianity after reading the adventures in Narnia? I highly doubt that; deep down, I think Lewis was simply trying to give children a fantastical visualization of the powers of good and evil. That even when things are at their darkest (like the everlasting winters of Narnia), light will always break through.

Now go on! Reread a childhood classic! And report back!