The carols are playing in the rooms of the dorm
And hot mugs of cider are keeping us warm.
There's laughter and music and toil and druge
And all we've been eating is cookies and fudge.
While visions of finals swirl 'round in our brains
We dream of the day we'll be free from our pains.
Our classes are ending, we're wating for snow,
And two weeks drags by fast and rushes by slow.

-From last year's Reading Week blogging


I've gotten better at procrastinating and worse at writing this year, that's for sure. But I finished my Art History paper today. Unfortunately, I still have to study for a final for that class, so nothing's really "over." In that respect this finals period is less satisfying, if less stressful, than last fall. Four exams...ugh.

So The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe comes out on Friday. I will always have a special place in my heart for Narnia because reading C.S. Lewis is what made me want to write books. I still remember being in fourth grade and designing my first fantasy world (basically a carbon copy of Narnia, starring me and my brother). The story recieved a score of extreme makeovers every time I read a new inspiring series, but Narnia was the beginning. Even at that young age the anxiety of influence hung over me; I remember complaining to my mom that "Yavaquania" just didn't sound as good as "Narnia." But enough nostalgia. Just as every kid had a moment when they learned Santa Claus did not exist, every child at some point realizes that Aslan is Jesus. My housekeeper broke it to me. And though I have since reread my other elementary school staples -- Madeline L'Engle, Susan Cooper, Lloyd Alexander and the incomparable Tolkien -- I have not picked up Lewis in 10 years. I haven't realized this until now, but I think part of me just doesn't want to revist that world with the jaded eyes of an adult. My first trip through Narnia was unadulterated magic. Other than Aslan's story and the entirety of The Last Battle (which I found kind of wierd even at the time), I'd be hard pressed to name another allegorical component of the Chronicles. And I'd like to keep it that way.

Of course, some people seem to think LOTR is Christian too, though Tolkien himself vocally despised allegory (and hated Narnia for it despite his friendship with Lewis). When Yale Students For Christ screened TTT two years ago, I remember playing a facetious game with myself called "Where's Jesus?" Clearly Jesus was Gandalf, who essentially sacrificed himself and was resurrected. But no, Frodo was Jesus, carrying the burden and suffering for the sins of all. Wrong again; it was Aragorn, the King who Returns -- he even looks like him. That's what I love about LOTR - there IS no Jesus! But obviously someone thinks there is. Of course, these people also think Harry Potter is Satanic, so go figure.

But back to the point. Perhaps Lewis' Christianity is not something I should be offended by. After all, he himself was no more Christian than Tolkien. He was Anglican, like almost everybody in England, and doesn't belong in the Pat Robertson pile of scaries. I'll see the movie. I'll enjoy it. Because magic is magic and talking lions are awesome. And then I'll sit back and wait for Phillip Pullman, the anti-Lewis, to get his box-office dues in 2007, and let the real controversy begin.