I have often interpreted the world around me in terms of things that happened in Narnia. One of those that I frequently internally reference is from The Magician's Nephew.It is the sixth book in published order, but chronically occurs first, as it is an answer to how the world of Narnia came to be. I believe that it should still be read after LWW, a subject on which I will perhaps blog about at a later time. This particular scene from MN occurs during the creation of Narnia and the granting of the gift of speech to the beasts, but from the point of view of one of the antagonists, Uncle Andrew.
We must now go back a bit and explain what the whole scene had looked like from Uncle Andrew's point of view. It had not made at all the same impression on him as on the Cabby and the children. For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.
Ever since the animals had first appeared, Uncle Andrew had been shrinking further and further back into the thicket. He watched them very hard of course; but he wasn't really interested in seeing what they were doing, only in seeing whether they were going to make a rush at him. Like the Witch, he was dreadfully practical. He simply didn't notice that Aslan was choosing one pair out of every kind of beasts. All he saw, or thought he saw, was a lot of dangerous wild animals walking vaguely about. And he kept on wondering why the other animals didn't run away from the big Lion.
When the great moment came and the Beasts spoke, he missed the whole point; for a rather interesting reason. When the Lion had first begun singing, long ago when it was still quite dark, he had realized that the noise was a song. And he had disliked the song very much. It made him think and feel things he did not want to think and feel. Then, when the sun rose and he saw that the singer was a lion ("only a lion," as he said to himself) he tried his hardest to make believe that it wasn't singing and never had been singing – only roaring as any lion might in a zoo in our own world. "Of course it can't really have been singing," he thought, "I must have imagined it. I've been letting my nerves get out of order. Who ever heard of a lion singing?" And the longer and more beautiful the Lion sang, the harder Uncle Andrew tried to make himself believe that he could hear nothing but roaring. Now the trouble about trying to make yourself stupider than you really are is that you very often succeed. Uncle Andrew did. He soon did hear nothing but roaring in Aslan's song. Soon he couldn't have heard anything else even if he had wanted to. And when at last the Lion spoke and said, "Narnia awake," he didn't hear any words: he heard only a snarl. And when the Beasts spoke in answer, he heard only barkings, growlings, bayings, and howlings. And when they laughed – well, you can imagine. That was worse for Uncle Andrew than anything that had happened yet. Such a horrid, bloodthirsty din of hungry and angry brutes he had never heard in his life.
This is such a wonderful way to explain a common phenomenon we don't tend to notice often enough. What you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing, and what sort of person you are.
None of us are pure realists. We don't truly see life for what it really is. All of us have a unique set of glasses through which we view the world. It depends on where we are standing – where we grew up, where we are now, our past experiences, what we've seen and heard previously, our present mood, etc. All of these things shape our own view of the world, for the better or for the worse.
It also depends on what sort of person you are. Just as none of us are pure realists, none of us are wholly objective. You will view the world in terms of yourself – in terms of what you want to get out of it. Your likes, dislikes, fears, desires, religion, philosophy, optimism, pessimism, temperament and character all play a part in this.
I'm sure this conclusion can be used to explain a variety of scenarios, but the one I most often relate it to is that of the belief in God or lack thereof. Firstly, you either believe there is a God or you believe there is not a God, and all of the facts or events you come across will be interpreted through that belief. A theist, deist, agnostic and atheist will all look at the same facts and be led to very different conclusions. This is why there is always so much room for debate. Because although we may be looking at the same evidence, we are not seeing the same thing.
I get the feeling that at this point I'm sounding a bit too much like a relativist. But there is a difference between understanding and condoning. I do believe we are capable of knowing the truth and that there is only one. Rather, my point is that we must keep in mind that people aren't coming at the data from the same direction. If we can see this, and can figure out other's point of view, we can better argue our point and on an everyday basis we can better communicate with others. I'm not sure if this is something that can be taught. But if it is we would all do best to learn it.
And now to the meat of the story. Uncle Andrew made himself unable to understand the animals' speech because he refused to allow himself to believe it. For one example, just as Uncle Andrew relies on the belief that it's impossible for animals to talk, an atheist begins with the belief that God must not exist. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, Lewis says, "A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading." When confronted with evidence that disproves this theory, he must either change his beliefs or change what he sees. Or in other words, if animals are in fact talking, either animals can talk and he is in the wrong and must change his own ideas, or else he must find another way to rationalize this, as we see Uncle Andrew does, telling himself it's only his nerves. Uncle Andrew wants so badly not to give in that he comes to the point that all he really can hear is growling and barking and the like. So also, we may succeed in making ourselves stupider by throwing away good information out of our own stubbornness to accept it. If we try to ignore things so that they go away or make up excuses or justifications that don't exist, we're really only trying to make ourselves stupider than we really are. And I believe we are expected to do the very best with what we are given.
No comments:
Post a Comment