Hello.
What follows is not strictly a treatise against the masses at Booth and Noble. It is, rather, the articulation of a literary debate that I have been warring for a number of years now. Although, it does touch on traditional Booth and Noble issues. I would appreciate input into the matter.
In 1950 C. S. Lewis published
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Each subsequent year, until the publication of
The Last Battle, he published another in this famous series. I read the books when I was just a small lad (I read most of them in the bath, which is an image I'm sure you're all enjoying right now; me and my little Mr. Tumnus). I read them in that order: the publication order. For those who need a review, this order is as follows:
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950)
Prince Caspian: The Return to Narnia (1951)
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952)
The Silver Chair (1953)
The Horse and His Boy (1954)
The Magician’s Nephew (1955)
The Last Battle (1956).
This is the order of the books in
my set, as well.
In 1994, however, the American publishers of the book decided to
change this order, ostensibly because Dr. Lewis
preferred the new order. The order they changed it to follows not the publication date, but rather the
chronological narrative structure of the series:
The Magician’s Nephew (1955)
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950)
The Horse and His Boy (1954)
Prince Caspian: The Return to Narnia (1951)
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952)
The Silver Chair (1953)
The Last Battle (1956)
According to the
Wikipedia article about this rearrangement, the books were reordered because of a single letter Dr. Lewis wrote to a child:
“I think I agree with your order [i.e. chronological] for reading the books more than with your mother’s. The series was not planned beforehand as she thinks. When I wrote The Lion I did not know I was going to write any more. Then I wrote P. Caspian as a sequel and still didn't think there would be any more, and when I had done The Voyage I felt quite sure it would be the last, but I found I was wrong. So perhaps it does not matter very much in which order anyone read them. I’m not even sure that all the others were written in the same order in which they were published.”Dr. Lewis's stepson spearheaded the rearrangment, also according to Wikipedia.
Although this probably offers too great a glance into my psyche, and consequently makes people uncomfortable, I have very strong feelings about this change, from a literary standpoint, from an authorial standpoint, and from a cultural standpoint. I don't want to overstate my case, but would it be too much to think that this change is
not the
result of the whining of a child, but rather the
cause of the increasing lack of sophisticated reading habits of children and adults alike?
Let me state my case, first, from a literary standpoint:L
There is no good reason to re-order the books; in fact, there are nothing but bad reasons. Although the
events may become chronological, the telling of those events is crucial to the gradual unfolding of the narrative. This highlights an important distinction in narrative theory: the difference between
what is told and
how it is told. At times, this has been called the difference between the "story" and the "discourse," or the "what" and the "way," or (specifically to film) the "fabula" and the "sjuzhet."
But it's easier to think of examples.
Star Wars has an enormous "universe" created with characters and events as part of the universe that aren't in any movies, right? So, although we learn about this "universe" from the movies, the movies only tell
one part of the story. It is one
discourse that describes a larger
story out there.
Anyway, we can think about Narnia as a
world that exists, and each of Lewis's books are only seven
discourses that tell seven specific stories that take place in that world.
If we order the books in their publication order, we are highlighting the
discourse of Narnia - the telling of the tale becomes paramount. To order them chronologically, however, is to underscore the importance of the
story of Narnia. On the face of it, this wouldn't seem to be bad thing. Learning about the story is important, and I don't want to deny this.
But what this does is take away the
experience of the narrative.
Yes, when we first read
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe we don't know why the wardrobe takes the children to Narnia. We don't know why there's a lamppost there. And, perhaps most magnificently, we discover Aslan along with the children, complete with the awe and stunning power they feel. Read as the first book in the series,
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe opens up questions about a world that don't get answered until the sixth book:
The Magician's Nephew. When these questions are finally answered, when we learn, for instance, that the wardrobe was constructed from the wood of a tree grown from a seed taken from Narnia, we experience one of those once-in-a-lifetime shudders down our spines. When I first read that, it was a put-the-book-down-and-think moment. We get the same feeling in movies today: when we first watched
Star Wars: Episode IV and learned that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker's father, it was a shocking moment. If we watched the prequels first, however,
we already knew that. It loses it's shock value, it's excitement. Instead of surprise, we experience suspense.
Additionally, any foreshadowing put into the series of books by Lewis is lost in the re-ordering. In
The Silver Chair the children are told a brief story about a boy named Shasta and a horse named Bree. This horse and boy are the protagonists in the book
A Horse and His Boy. To hear this mention without having previously read
A Horse and His Boy creates a nice surprise when we get to the book and learn what happened. We then remember back to
The Silver Chair and understand the reference. Not only does this make the connections between the books more salient, but it also brings the reader into that connection: the reader must actively search for and connect the disparate parts. To have read
A Horse and His Boy first, however, the reader then encounters the mention of the story in
The Silver Chair and the connection is made for him/her. There is not the sense of discovery, or of activity, involved.
Other minor issues crop up. Why, as Wikipedia points out, would the
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe have written: "None of the children knew who Aslan was, any more than you do," if we have experienced Aslan twice before?
In sum, to move the emphasis of the narrative from the
discourse to the
story is to make clear the complex, and interesting, narrative elements present in a disjointed and multi-linear narrative.
This brings me, conveniently, to my second point: the authorial standpoint.
Simply put, although it might seem that change the order of the books
subverts Lewis's authorship, in reality, it actually
reinforces the author's role in the construction of this narrative world.
Let me explain what I mean. We commonly think of authors as people who construct worlds that readers passively experience. The ultimate authority on a piece of literature is the person that thought it up, right? Orson Welles is the director of
Citizen Kane, therefore, we can state that he is the author of that film, and the person completely in charge of the meaning, the subtleties, and the subtexts.
Yet, this is not the case. Authors may scribe the words, but it is the
audience who interprets them. Shakespeare is wildly considered one of the greatest authors the West has produced. Yet, his plays are performed in a multitude of ways with a multitude of different interpretations. Who is to say what Shakespear
intended? All we know is what we think of the play, the book, the film. The audience writes the text anew each time it is experienced.
The same is true of Narnia. I read it the first time when I was a child, and was taken by the powerful story of good vs. evil. When I read it as a college student, I was interested by the Christian allegory. Now when I read them, I see how the characters represent a bygone time period. Each time I read the books differently, and I understand different stories: some of which Lewis may have intended and some of which he may not have.
To read the books in the published order, I experience these different readings in an independent and unique manner. I might make connections between parts of stories - oh, this fight with a monster is different from that fight with a monster - that Lewis may or may not have intended. To read them in the re-ordered, chronological order, however, is to asert Lewis's reading of the story. Here, we are told by the publisher, is the
correct order. This immediately limits
our interpretation of the story by silencing our readings. No matter what you think about
The Silver Chair, including the fable told about the horse and his boy in that story, in a re-ordered reading, it will necessarily be tempered by what Lewis (and the publishers) have deemed to go before it, namely
A Horse and His Boy.
This prescribed reading severely limits the creativity and exploration that comes with reading a book full of wonder and mystery. Imagine reading
Harry Potter and starting with the scene where Voldemort kills Harry's parents. There would be no mystery, no build-up of suspense for when we finally get the scene, towards the end of
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Which, at long last, brings me to my final point: the re-ordering of
The Chronicles of Narnia is detrimental from a cultural standpoint.
For all the talk recently about the complexity of new television programs (
Lost is unique because of the flashbacks and flashforwards!), it is really an old trend. The first novel,
The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, is told in fragments and narrative flashbacks. To read a book in this way, or to watch a narratively complex television show, is to experience narrative in a new way. Steven Johnson's wonderful
Everything Bad is Good for You details how this complexity is creating readers who are more mature, more intelligent, and more capable of handling complex tasks. Thinking multi-chronologically frees us from "thinking inside the box." We get used to thinking from many different angles, looking at problems from different viewpoints.
To re-order the Narnia books is to limit these different viewpoints. It's not enough that the customers at the bookstore ask to find the shortest books for their children to read (I usually recommend
The Postmodern Condition, as it is only about 80 pages long, minus footnotes). They also have to make the books less complex and easier to understand. Why? Why do we want our novels simplistic and spoonfed? I'm not saying we have to give our children
Gravity's Rainbow or anything, but
let them experience mystery, suspense, connection and interconnectedness.
Let them read the books in a way that doesn't explain everything right away.
Culturally, when we dumb down our literature, water down the media our children - and we ourselves - experience, we tell them (and us) that it's ok to be passive, that it's ok to read unquestioningly. We
should read
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and wonder why the hell a lamppost is in the middle of the forest. It gets us thinking - critically. When we finally discover why (Jardis threw a portion of an English Lamppost into Narnia as it was being created by Aslan), we have already thought about the importance of this. Perhaps we foresaw why the lamppost was there - perhaps we disagree with how Lewis actuated this appearance. Either way,
we are thinking .
The literature we read, or have read to us, as children helps shape who we are, and what we become. I have no doubt that my own philosophy on life has come from the books I read when I was little:
The Phantom Tollbooth,
Ender's Game,
The Three Investigators,
Ramona the Pest series, etc. If we start to make these stories
less complex,
less narratively interesting, what are we doing to the children that have yet to read the stories? What are we telling them: yes, there was a different way to read these, but you'll find it easier to read it this way. Oh, and why not just skip the big words. And next time, find a shorter book to read.
It's a slippery slope.
So the next time you're in the children's department of a bookstore and you see the Narnia books on the shelf (and you'll see a lot of them), I urge you to rearrange them. I doubt you'll find them in the "published" order, because the publishers generally agree to put them in the revised order.
Or, at least, buy a set and read them in the published order, like I did when I was 10: one chapter at a time, in the bath.
