A Narnian Excerpt

Because I’m sleepy and my brain is banana pudding, here’s an excerpt from one of my favorite books out of one of my favorite series. The book is The Horse and His Boy, and the series is The Chronicles of Narnia. Both are by C. S. Lewis, and I recommend both, whether you’ve never read them before or have read them each 100 times:

“Bree turned round at last, his face mournful as only a horse’s can be. ‘I shall go back to Calormen,’ he said.

‘What?’ said Aravis. ‘Back to slavery!’

‘Yes,’ said Bree. ‘Slavery is all I’m fit for. How can I ever show my face among the free Horses of Narnia?—I who left a mare and a girl and a boy to be eaten by lions while I galloped all I could to save my own wretched skin!’

“We all ran as hard as we could,” said Hwin.

‘Shasta didn’t!’ snorted Bree. ‘At least he ran in the right direction: ran back. And that is what shames me most of all. I, who called myself a war horse and boasted of a hundred fights, to be beaten by a little human boy—a child, a mere foal, who had never held a sword nor had any good nurture or example in his life!’

‘I know,’ said Aravis. ‘I felt just the same. Shasta was marvelous. I’m just as bad as you, Bree. I’ve been snubbing him and looking down on him ever since you met us and now he turns out to be the best of us all. . . .’

‘It’s all very well for you,’ said Bree. ‘You haven’t disgraced yourself. But I’ve lost everything.’

‘My good Horse,’ said the Hermit, who had approached them unnoticed because his bare feet made so little noise on that sweet, dewy grass. ‘My good Horse, you’ve lost nothing but your self-conceit. No, no, cousin. Don’t put back your ears and shake your mane at me. If you are really so humbled as you sounded a minute ago, you must learn to listen to sense. You’re not quite the great Horse you had come to think, from living among poor dumb horses. Of course you were braver and cleverer than them. You could hardly help being that. It doesn’t follow that you’ll be anyone very special in Narnia. But as long as you know you’re nobody very special, you’ll be a very decent sort of Horse, on the whole'” (C. S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy).

Growing Through Obedience

“‘Aslan” said Lucy “you’re bigger’.
‘That is because you are older, little one’ answered he.
‘Not because you are?’
‘I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.’ (C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian).”

There’s one part in Prince Caspian where Aslan calls out to Lucy to follow him, and to get the others to do the same. The catch is that Lucy is the only one who can see or hear him. The others will have to take her word for it.

That’s the moment where Lucy chooses to trust in Aslan and obey him, even though it might feel like she’s the only one. She has to go even if she goes alone.

That’s what genuine faith looks like. Faithfulness and obedience can be lonely sometimes, especially when so many others are too busy trying to blend in and not make waves to truly follow Jesus. When you are obedient, sometimes your biggest critics will come from inside the Church, not outside.

William Carey, the father of modern missions, faced opposition from other clergymen for wanting to take the gospel to India. Imagine that. Pastors and church leaders not wanting to take the gospel to unreached people. But it happened.

William Carey’s faithfulness made it possible for others to take the gospel around the world, so that heaven could be filled with voices from every tribe and tongue, every skin color and hair color, gathered around the throne as depicted in the book of Revelation.

Obedience might mean standing in the minority for what’s right versus what’s popular. William Penn once said, “Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it.”

In Prince Caspian, Lucy gets the rest to follow her. Some were more willing than others to go, but they all went. None of them could see Aslan until after they had stepped out in faith, but once they were committed to following, they could see him leading the way.

That’s the way faith is sometimes. You can’t see God until you obey what He’s told you to do. Obedience leads to faith being made sight.

Victorian With a Twist

Charlotte Markham

I know. It sounds like a cocktail gone horribly wrong. It would be. But for a novel, it fits together quite well.

I’m talking about the book, Charlotte Markham and the House of Darkling by Michael Boccacino. If Emily Bronte and Tim Burton had a secret love child, it would be this book, a sort of Jane Eyre meets Beetlejuice. Needless to say, I loved it.

The atmosphere starts off gothic and gets weirder from there. I was immediately captured from the very first sentence and could hardly put the book down until I read the very last sentence. I could very easily see this book turned into a motion picture directed by the above-mentioned Tim Burton (or some other director with an eccentric and unorthodox flair).

I won’t give away any of the plot surprises other than to say that the novel starts off with a newly-hired governess to a man recently widowed and his two sons. Then there’s a horrible, unexplainable murder. And it gets better from there.

If you loved the book Johnathan Strange & Mr Norell by Susanna Clarke or any of the fantasy writings by George MacDonald or C.S. Lewis, (another amazing Victorian/fantasy blend), you’ll love this as well. If you don’t care to have your perfect Victorian world sullied by the supernatural and otherworldly, then I’d advise you to skip this one.

It took me approximately two years and two days to read it. Two years to think about buying the book and then deciding to put it on my birthday wish-list and once I had it in my hands, two days to actually read it. It would have been less if I hadn’t had to bother with trivial things like eating and sleeping.

All that to say this: check out the book. You’ll like it. I’ve saved you the trouble and put the link to the amazon page on here, so you have no more excuses. Now go and buy it.