In Defence of Language Study: What is Linguistics?

 A little blurb on Linguistics for those of you wondering what on earth it is that I study...

Most people who have heard of Linguistics before know that it has something to do with languages. But beyond that, the general understanding of the subject becomes somewhat murky. As a relatively "new" and somewhat specialised subject, there is a lot of confusion around what it is all about and what linguists are actually interested in. The purpose of this post is to share a rough outline of what Linguistics is really about, at least in the understanding I have developed after studying it for the last five years.

What is Linguistics:

Traditionally we refer to it as "the science of language" but that is a slightly confusing and not very enlightening description. It is a science, but not a "hard science", and therefore belongs to the Humanities or Arts. Some might prefer to call it a Human Science, or even a Social Science, but not even these boxes are quite where it fits. It draws inspiration from a range of fields including: language teaching, literature studies, the classics, maths, the social sciences, anthropology, psychology, philosophy, geography, computer science, neuroscience, anatomy, medicine, acoustics, biology, genetics...the list could go on. In a way, it is one of the truly multi-disciplinary subjects. And yet it requires its own specialisation and jargon.

What Linguistics is not:

There are two common misconceptions regarding what Linguistics is about. Firstly, Linguistics is not about learning lots of languages. It is not about learning any languages. It is about understanding the phenomenon that is Language. A linguist does not need to be fluent in many languages. A person who is so would more appropriately be referred to as a Language Scholar, Language Expert or a Polyglot. Some linguists are polyglots. Some polyglots are linguists. The two are neither mutually exclusive nor mutually inclusive. Knowing many languages - especially different kinds of languages - will naturally contribute to understanding more about Language. But it is not a pre-requisite. If you are, like me, not a natural polyglot (you don't pick up languages easily or naturally) you can still do well in linguistics. Of course, as linguists, we deal with many different languages in trying to grapple with the phenomenon of Language. And to be a good linguist, it helps if you have had lessons in different languages and know things about the rules of their grammar. But learning about a language and its rules is not the same as being fluent in that language. And while fluency in many languages is preferable, it's not necessary. 

The second misconception is that Linguistics is about "rules of grammar" - grammatical and linguistic "correctness". Most linguists are not "grammar police". Our job is not to go around telling people how to speak and why they are speaking wrong. It is not to bemoan the decline in grammatical/language aptitude of our current generation, to preserve the perfection that is a language and to go around correcting and teaching those that can't speak properly. And even if we were interested in that, it is most definitely not about neat writing, correct spelling and punctuation. Writing, spelling and punctuation (in particular) are not Language. They are a means of expressing language but are largely human constructs. There are, of course, reasons why uniformity in these areas is important and useful to society (especially for clarity of expression and avoiding misunderstandings) but that is not the interest of the linguist.

The linguist is interested primarily in Language. That is our concern. What is Language and how does it work? That probably sums up the best what Linguistics is about.

Linguistics is the study of how language works

If we take the statement above as our starting point, all the sub-fields that make up the science of Linguistics fall nicely into place. Linguistics needs to be thought of as a super-discipline: an over-arching term that covers a whole range of sub-fields, some of which are and operate very differently from each other. In the same way the (hard) sciences may be divided up into chemistry, physics, mathematics, biology etc. so does Linguistics have many sub-fields. Unlike experts in the hard sciences, linguists are generally expected to have expertise in a few different (even seemingly unrelated) sub-fields of Linguistics. In part this is because it is still a relatively new discipline (in its current form, that is) and hasn't reached the level of specialisation some of the hard sciences have, and in part because the various disciplines, though different and able to be treated in isolation, do in fact influence each other.

So what are these sub-disciplines? Well they all address the question of how the phenomenon that is language works. But they do so in different ways.  

Sociolinguistics looks at how language works in society. It addresses issues such as dialect variation, identity, and bilingualism within communities, at the level of small social groups and at national level. It examines the role and interaction of different languages within a society and how power-relations are played out through those languages.

Psycholinguistics looks at how language works in the human mind. How are individual languages acquired and learnt by children and adults? How are mental thoughts converted into spoken language and how is spoken language understood and de-constructed back into mental thoughts by those who hear or read it? The related field of Neurolinguistics looks at how language is physically processed by the brain. Which parts of the brain are responsible for processing language, what kinds of language formations are more difficult for the brain to process and why, and how are brain defects related to language defects?

Historical Linguistics looks at how languages are related to one another. What "genetic" connections are there between the different languages of the world and how and why do languages change over time (why do dialects, and eventually different languages, develop)? It looks at trying to understand, through reconstruction, rules of sound and grammatical change within the history of language groups.

Then there is a group of sub-fields within linguistics that may be grouped together under the heading Formal Linguistics. These fields look at how Language works internally by analysing the different building blocks that make up Language. These sub-fields, in particular, can use very formal methods derived from mathematics and logic. Phonetics and Phonology look at the underlying sounds used by humans to string together words and sentences. They examine particular rules that govern how these sounds are combined to derive different meanings. Semantics and Pragmatics look at the meaning behind individual words, how these words are combined to convey larger amounts of information, and how meaning is related and conveyed by different contexts. Morphology looks at how individual words are formed in different languages and made more precise by combining root meanings with semantically meaningful or grammatical forms like prefixes and suffixes. Syntax examines sentence structure and the way words of different types (nouns, verbs, adjectives, function words etc.) are combined according to particular rules in different languages to convey meaning.

The last two fields make up what you may more generally know as "grammar". But again, what we are interested in as linguists is not whether grammar is used "correctly" or not, so much as what the "natural" rules underlying the grammars of different languages are, why they work like that and why there are differences in different languages.

I've tried to keep this description simple, but it is hard to convey accurately what Linguistics is about without getting into technical terms. This, in a nutshell, sums up the basic ideas behind Linguistics and the focus of the different sub-fields. It is not an exhaustive description, and perhaps not even fully accurate. But the idea was to convey the gist of it.

Many of these fields are still in early stages of development and there is a lot of contention and debate within each field. Although language is something every human being is familiar with, it is also abstract and intangible; especially when one is trying to work out how language works in the mind or how the internal structure of a language is built up. No one can physically see or measure these things and so we are working with many theories and conjectures. Like with other sciences that deal with the intangible, it means there are disputes. But we are not simply grasping at straws. We use scientific methods to test our theories and have some evidence for their correctness. But we still have a long way to go.

And that, in part, is why I study Linguistics. There is still so much to learn about how language works. This amazing ability which we use almost every day of our lives and which almost every linguist will tell you is unique to humans is so very little understood. In the same way a biologist studies a life form to try and learn better what beautiful creatures exist in our world and what makes up this complex thing called life; in the same way an astronomer studies cosmic phenomena to better understand what is out there in the universe, and perhaps through that seeks for understanding in how our universe is made up; so the linguist wishes to study this beautiful and complex ability called Language.

Not all linguistics would feel the same, but for me, as a Christian who believes language was created and built into our genetic make-up by God, as a means of communicating with one another and hence enriching our lives, I can think of few better things to do than study this amazing ability with which he has blessed us. And in understanding these things, to gain a better appreciation for the great God whose imagination and power brought such a great phenomenon to be.

So that is what Linguistics is all about and why I study it. I hope it has shed some light on what I spend my time doing. I plan a follow-up post looking into more detail about why Linguistics is important to me, the Descriptive versus Prescriptive debate (which relates to the issue of grammatical correctness) and what that means to me as a Christian.

The Silver Chair: Chapter 16

The Ending

The last chapters of so many of the Chronicles are so packed with truths and pieces of brilliance, it’s near impossible to comment on them. Like the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and The Last Battle, this chapter reveals so much of what makes Lewis such a brilliant author, I don’t know where to start with the comments: We see the beauty of Narnia for the first time in the book; the sorrow of a son reunited with his father only to lose him again; a return to the splendour of Aslan’s Country; the rejuvenation of the old dead king in a scene that once again comes rather close to allegory; the granting of Caspian’s wish to see our world, for just five minutes; bullies being taught their lesson; a poorly run school being investigated and put right; and social and political comments made on education, feminism (?), leadership and politics. Lewis crams all of this into just one chapter so smoothly and adeptly that we hardly notice the transitions.

I’ve said many times before that Lewis is such a good writer, he’s really hard to paraphrase. It’s better to quote him directly. So below are a few of my favourite quotes from the last chapters (the first from the second last):

…tears came to Jill’s eyes. Their quest had been worth all the pains it cost.

“Puddleglum,” said Jill, “You’re a regular old humbug. You sound as doleful as a funeral and I believe you’re perfectly happy. And you talk as if you were afraid of everything, when you’re really as brave as - as a lion”.
   “Now speaking of funerals,” began Puddleglum, but Jill, who heard the centaurs tapping with their hooves behind her, surprised him very much by flinging her arms around his thin neck and kissing his muddy-looking face, while Eustace wrung his hand…
   The marshwiggle, sinking back on his bed, remarked to himself, “Well I wouldn’t have dreamt of her doing that. Even though I am a good-looking chap.”

“I have come,” said a deep voice behind them…
   And she wanted to say, “I’m sorry,” but she could not speak…
“Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia.”

Even the Lion wept: great Lion-tears, each tear more precious than the Earth would be if it was a single solid diamond.

After that, the Head’s friends saw that the Head was no use as a Head, so they got her made an inspector to interfere with other Heads. And when they found she wasn’t much good even at that, they got her into Parliament where she lived happily ever after.

The Silver Chair: Chapter 15

The Great Snow Dance

When first o’ the season’s snow starts to fall
And lies fresh on the ground
We hear the wak’ning winter’s call
Summons us to gather ’round

Fauns with groom’d flanks and hooves that shine
Begin to gallop and prance
While their dearest dryads, leafy hair divine
Glide swiftly in to dance

Dwarfs dressed in their finest gear -
Golden tassels, scarlet hoods
Join th’ mythic creatures once a year
In a clearing in the snowy woods

And so begins the Great Snow Dance
Intricate weavings, practised moves
Music sweet, but with eerie stance
Guides floral feet and caprine hooves

And the dwarfs stand forming a secondary ring
Tossing spheres of compact snow
While feet make a drum beat and sweet fiddles sing
In a rhythm neither too fast nor too slow

But lo’ what commotion disturbs our rite?
A voice calling from the hill?
We spot the source, but what a sight!
A girl emerges - her name is “Jill”

She says she needs help, she’s not alone
There’re others trapped as well
So lost and far from kin or home
With such a tale to tell

The dwarfs stop their game, and gather their tools
To rescue those trapped in the mound
The moles join the cause, as though mining for jewels
No match for their skill is the ground

At last they break through, and all is made clear
A wiggle, two horses, a man -
But he’s no mere man, but someone more dear
Can it be? By the Lion, it can!

It’s our Prince who was lost, for so many a year
Our Prince whom we’d giv’n up for dead
He’s returned, yes he has, he really is here
He’s been saved, bless his dear royal head

Though the snow dance was brought to an untimely end
We’ve something far greater to cheer us
Our Prince has returned, yes, we have hope again
And again will our enemies fear us.

But come children dear, be warmed, sup and rest
For your journey was tiring and long
But you’re heroes; we’ll praise you along with the best
Our minstrels shall laud you in song.

The Silver Chair: Chapters 13-14

Things are not always as they seem

This tale is full of mistaken identities and misconceptions. “Pay no attention to appearances” says Aslan to Jill of the signs. And it’s true of more than just the signs.

Right from the outset, things are not always as they seem. When she first meets him, Jill doesn’t trust Aslan. She is afraid of him, for the completely wrong reasons. When she realises who he is and he tells her that he has called them to Narnia, she assumes he has made a mistake - they are not the ones for the task. Mistaken identity. Aslan corrects her.

When she arrives in Narnia at the sailing of the King, Jill asks Eustace if he sees a friend. He doesn’t recognise that he is staring at Caspian because he makes the assumption that he would not look that much older than last time. Mistaken identity.

Eustace suspects the owls of plotting against the king, because they are meeting in dark in the night. Meanwhile they are simply used to meeting at night because they are owls. There is nothing sinister about their dealings. Mistaken identity.

Jill and Eustace are wary of Puddleglum at the beginning because he is so negative. They don’t see that there is sense, faith and dedication lying at the heart of his pessimism - just what they need as a guide. Mistaken identity.

When Jill first sees the giants lining the gorge, she assumes they are simply piles of rock. Until they start to hurl stones around them. Mistaken identity.

When they meet the Lady of the Green Kirtle, they think her kind, sweet and helpful. Mistaken identity.

When they come to the ruined city and the writing, they think it is merely a strange wilderness of ledges, dykes and trenches. Mistaken identity.

When they arrive at Harfang, they think the giants are friendly and that they want to have the children and Puddleglum take part in the autumn feast with them. Not that they will be the main dish at the feast. Mistaken identity.

When the three meet Rilian, they think he is nasty and not to be trusted. They don’t realise he is the one they have come to rescue. Mistaken identity.

When the mudmen come to themselves and realise what spell the witch has had them under, they prepare to fight for their freedom, unaware that the one who had them under their spell is dead. Rather than celebrate, they prepare for war. When they see Rilian and the others on horseback, they prepare to defend themselves against the onslaught by the witch’s people. They haven’t the slightest idea that these people were also subject to her lies and sorcery and that it is they who have killed the witch and freed them from her spell. Mistaken identity.

When the children, Puddleglum and Rillian see the mudmen letting off rockets and marching as to war, they assume that they are their enemy and that the rockets are warnings. They don’t realise it is their way of celebrating their liberation from the spell, and at the same time a taking to arms should the queen or her subjects try to stop them. Mistaken identity.

These last two points, which are the subject of chapters 13 and 14 bring about an almost fatal ending to the story. The earthmen think the heroes are their enemy and the heroes fear the earthmen. Both assume the other group are working for the witch.

Thankfully, the truth comes out quickly and the situation is ratified. Mistaken identities and misconceptions are brought to light, and both sets of people are able to make their way home and leave the cursed shallowlands of the underworld. The heroes head for the overworld, the earthmen for Bism.

There’s a lesson in all this. Things are not always as they seem. We need to be aware of this in faith as in life. Sometimes things look hopeless and as though there is no way out. But there is a bigger picture we can’t see. Just as the heroes and the earthmen did not realise that the other group was equally the enemy of the witch, and so feared them, what might be looking to us like a hopeless situation might just be a small bit of the picture.

I’m sure as the characters looked back on the story afterwards, they realised how they had missed the (sometimes almost obvious) cases of mistaken identity in their adventures. And so we can look back on events in life and realise that what looked like a bad job, was actually for the best.

When Jesus was arrested and crucified, it looked to the disciples as though everything was lost. All their dreams and plans for the Messianic kingdom with Jesus as the ruler were shattered. They couldn’t make sense of it, and feared they had been wrong. Jesus was not the messiah. It was a case of mistaken identity. Mistaken identity, yes, but not in the way they thought. Three days later he rose again. Jesus had a bigger plan at work, a bigger, more important kingdom to win. Once the disciples came to realise this, they could look back and see clearly what God had been doing and knew that what looked like defeat was the greatest victory of all - the victory over sin and death. Things are not always as they seem.

I can testify to this in my own life, when I was distraught last year over thinking I did not have a scholarship to study in Oxford. I couldn’t see any light or make any sense of it. When, after two weeks in this state, the unthinkable happened and I was awarded the scholarship, it seemed like the whole situation had been pointless. Why go through those two weeks of sadness? But as the truth sunk in, I realised all the good that came out of it. I had learnt to surrender to God and grown so much closer to him. I knew I was doing what he wanted me to do. And other girls’ lives were blessed because they were given the scholarship as well as me (something that might not have happened had I been awarded it first time).

Things are not always as they seem. But that’s okay. We have a God who sees the whole picture; who knows what is best. And he is the one who is in control.

The Silver Chair: Chapter 12

Good Old Puddleglum

A lot could be, and has in the past been, said of the witch’s attempt at making our heroes forget Narnia and Aslan, and of Puddleglum’s heroic refusal to be beguiled.

I wrote a while back on the thread: Conquering Lies - Lessons from Narnia

Ajnos wrote:

Another well-known passage where the antagonist tries to trick the heroes with lies it LotGK's speech in which she tries to convince them that Narnia is a figment of our imagination.

"I see...that we should do no better with your lion, as you call it, than we did with your sun. You have seen lamps, and so you imagined a bigger and better lamp and called it the sun. You've seen cats, and now you want a bigger and better cat, and it's to be called a lion. Well, 'tis pretty make-believe, though...it would suit you all better if you were younger. And look at how you put nothing into you make believe world without copying it from the real world of mine, which is the only world...Come, all of you. Put away these childish tricks...There is no Narnia, no Overworld, no sky, no sun, no Aslan..."

This lie, together with her enchanting music and powder almost takes them all in. In a place so far away from the Narnia they remember, they begin to think, that perhaps they did just imagine it. Our enemies try to make us doubt our own beliefs in a similar way. They try to reduce our experiences of God - experiences which we knew were real at the time - to figments of our imagination. They make us wonder whether what we thought was a word from God, was not just wishful thinking, or something we imagined. And when that moment has passed, sometimes we do start to doubt, whether it was real. Human memory is a strange thing, and becomes increasingly unreliable as time passes from when the even occurred. When we find people (or even ourselves) questioning the reality of our experiences, we need to respond like Puddleglum:

"One word, Ma'am... All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put but the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you've said. But there's one more thing to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things...Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones... We're just babies making up game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia."

Good Old Puddleglum!

In my Day Two post on Puddleglum and Paxford, I quoted Douglas Gresham as saying of Fred Paxford, on whom Puddleglum was modelled, “Fred was the ever cheerful eternal pessimist.”

When we first meet Puddleglum, that doesn’t seem like a fully accurate description. Pessimist, yes. Comical, perhaps. But ever-cheerful? Hardly. When he tells us that the other Marshwiggles think he’s quite bouncy and upbeat, we are inclined to disbelieve him. Could they possibly be worse than him?

But as the story goes on, we see what he means. Although Puddleglum always sees the worst side of things and always expects the worst, he is still cheerful despite this. He thinks things will be bad, but then imagines something worse and concludes that actually the bad things aren’t quite as bad as they could be.

Right at the beginning he tells them not to worry about the weather, because they’ll be so distracted by enemies, mountains, rivers, losing their way, almost nothing to eat and sore feet.

Later, when they are trying to find their way across the river gorge (before they spot the bridge) he says, “The bright side of this is, if we break our necks getting down the cliff, then we’re safe from being drowned in the river.”

It is Puddleglum who points out that if they had been paying attention to the signs, Aslan would have shown them away underground. “Aslan’s instructions always work: there are no exceptions”.

This is the first hint we get of his faith. He’s not only a cheerful pessimist. Behind (and despite) his eternal pessimism, he has an unrelenting faith in the supremacy of Aslan. Perhaps part of the reason he can be so gloomy, is that he knows Aslan is in control. He doesn’t even seem to fear death, and occasionally sees it as a better alternative (at least if we break our necks, we needn’t suffer drowning, and later, maybe we should go back to give the giants a feast rather than being lost in the depths of the earth and suffer threat of dragons and other dangers). He knows death isn’t the end.

When they are faced with the dreadful decision of whether to release Rilian or not, his cheerful pessimism comes to play again. He doesn’t sugar coat things by suggesting everything will turn out alright if they obey the sign, but says:

“Aslan didn’t tell Pole what would happen. He only told her what to do. That fellow will be the death of us, I shouldn’t wonder. But that doesn’t let us off following the sign.”

Because of his pessimism, he is able to bear the fact that they might die if they release the prince. But he recognises that Aslan’s orders come from a higher place. Doing right is more important than being safe. Even more important than living. Puddleglum has the heart of a matyr. And in part it is his pessimism that gives him that.

Finally, when it comes to the crunch, his pessimism saves that day. He is aware of the enchantment working on them and sees a way out (extinguishing the fire, the source of the enchantment). He knows it will hurt, but he’s okay with that. Things could and would be worse if he wasn’t willing to face that pain - so he embraces it.

And then in his speech, he expresses the true faith behind his pessimism. His pessimism lets him grant that perhaps the overworld, the sun, and Aslan are all imaginary. Perhaps none of what they seem to remember is true. But there is a worse alternative. That the world underground is all there is. And he will not accept that. He would rather embrace an untrue dream, than suffer the fate of one who has no hope. His hope at this point is fragile - he is full of doubt in what he believes. But he knows he would rather embrace that, and be proved wrong, than live in a world of such dreariness.

Puddleglum’s pessimism lets him see what is bad, and then imagine something worse. By doing this, the bad suddenly becomes bearable. It is this which saves him and his friends.

I’m not saying we should all be Puddleglums. His pessimism is draining, and leads to arguments and the children not always trusting his better judgement. But there is something in his mindset we can imitate. Not full pessimism, but a trust in God that means if we do God’s will, if we trust in him, even bad things will look bright and be bearable in the light of what could be so much worse - a life without him.

The apostle Paul comes close to saying what Puddleglum tells the witch. He acknowledges that she may be right, and they might have imagined Narnia and the sun and Aslan. But he’d rather chance that they be wrong than live without hope. Paul imagines for a second what would be the case if what we believe and what he preached was not true; if Jesus did not die and rise from the dead:

But if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ is not risen. And if Christ is not risen, then our preaching is empty and your faith is also empty. Yes, and we are found false witnesses of God, because we have testified of God that He raised up Christ, whom He did not raise up—if in fact the dead do not rise. For if the dead do not rise, then Christ is not risen. And if Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins! Then also those who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable. 1 Cor 15: 13-19

As Puddleglum and his friends soon learn - they were right. Their faith is rewarded because it turns out to be real. They find Narnia and see the sun and Aslan again. Their hope was not in vain. Paul, who had seen the risen saviour, knows the same is true of what we believe.

But now Christ is risen from the dead, and has become the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 1 Cor 15: 12-19

I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia!

The Silver Chair: Chapter 11

The Silver Chair

Reading chapters 11 and 12 got me thinking a lot about the witch’s motives and plans. What was she really after? And how did she expect to succeed?

I know a number of people, including me, have discussed before why Lewis chose the title he did for this book. The Silver Chair is seemingly one of the least significant things in the book and there are a number of other titles he could have used (including Night Under Narnia and Wild Waste Lands). But after reading these chapters, it’s made me wonder again. I think the Silver Chair is far more significant than we realise.

Rilian refers to it as “a vile engine of sorcery,” which is about the most information we are given on it. We don’t even know what it looks like, apart from it being silver. At a set time every night, Rilian is made to sit on it and tied up to it. He is told this is because of the fit of rage which comes upon him for that hour every night. He is tied to the chair because he becomes violent and it is a means of keeping him from harming anyone.

Yet we know that in actual fact, it is only during that hour every night that he is completely sane. Which made me wonder what kind of enchantment the witch had cast upon him? Usually, when people are bewitched to forget who they are, it is permanent; where does this one hour of sanity come from?

I’ve always thought it was the chair itself that made him sane - like some side effect of its working. While the witch used the chair to re-enforce the enchantment, it also meant that he would be sane while it happened. But thinking about it now, it makes more sense that the spell only lasts a day at a time. Every night it wears off, and has to be re-administered - by the chair itself. After an hour in the chair, the spell is restored and he forgets again who he is. A more basic spell by the witch (such as she tries to use on Puddleglum and the children), would not have been powerful or practical enough to keep Rillian under her authority all that time. The son of the King of Narnia, and someone known to Aslan would, sooner or later, have seen through her bewitchment and turned on her. Doubtless she could kill him should that happen, but she wants him alive.

And so somehow, she had made (or acquired) the chair. He needed to be kept in the chair for an hour every night for the curse to remain on him (it was like he needed a new dose of it every night to keep it in his system - like some kind of poison). Once the hour had passed, and the chair done its work, he had forgotten again and continued the next day under the witch’s spell.

I noticed something particularly interesting about when Rilian was in the chair (which I hadn’t thought of before). Although he claims to be “sane now”, he does not seem to remember everything of his past life. He does not even remember who he is. He knows only that

“Every night I am sane. If only I could get out of this enchanted chair it would last. I should be a man again. But every night they bind me, and so every night my chance is gone.”

In all his imploring that the companions release him, he doesn’t once claim that he is Rilian. This can only mean that he has not fully remembered his life before his enchantment, as those words, if any, would encourage them to release him if they were friends. Bu he doesn’t. Instead he continues to shout at them, even threaten them. His voice rises “to a shriek” and Eustace describes his behaviour as a “frenzy”. Perhaps this is partly because he is so desperate, but I think there is more to it. He threatens them and tells them if they do not release them they will make him their “mortal enemy”. These don’t sound like the words of a perfectly sane Prince Rilian. Despite having some degree of sanity, the chair is still working on him so that he only remembers something of who and what he is.

Thankfully, he remembers one of the most important things. Somehow, subconsciously, he remembers Aslan. He might not remember fully who Aslan is (for he does not call on him directly to save him), but in a last desperate attempt, he calls on the greatest powers he knows of to implore them to free him: “all fears and loves…the bright skies of overland, [and] the great Lion, Aslan himself”.

These are, as Eustace says, “the words of the sign”. Had Rilian been saner, and spoken to them more clearly, the decision to follow the sign would have been easier. But as Aslan had told Jill, “the signs… will not look at all as you expect them to look…pay no attention to appearances.” Thanks to Puddleglum’s wisdom, they choose to follow the sign no matter the consequences, “That fellow will be the death of us, I shouldn’t wonder. But that doesn’t let us off following the sign.”

Only once they have released the prince, does he become fully sane and remember who he is. He starts by rushing on the chair with his sword and destroying it “lest your mistress should ever use you for another victim”. He knows more than the others how important the chair was in the witch’s scheme. I think we can be sure here that the chair was made of real silver, since a stronger metal would not have been so easily rent (even by a very good sword with the strength of revenge behind it).

Next he recognises Puddleglum as a Marshwiggle and tells them that he is Rilian, the son of Caspian X, King of Narnia. There are no further threats, or anger. His complete sanity is evidenced by the words:

“And the something wrong, whatever it was, had vanished from his face.”

Coming back to the witch’s scheme, I still wonder what she was up to. We know that she wanted Narnia and her kidnapping of Rilian was part of the plan. But how was it really to work? Surely once they broke through into Narnia he would be recognised as the lost prince. Unless the silver chair was taken with, she could not keep him under the spell forever. Rilian says that he would be freed from his “enchantment” once he was made king, but the witch could only have meant by this that he would be forever under her enchantment and there’d be no further use of the silver chair. But that seems to me like nonsense - why would her enchantment suddenly become permanent just because he was above the earth?

Did she plan to kill him once the kingdom was won? If so, why bother capturing him in the first place? Her plan was to marry him so she’d be queen, but Caspian was not quite dead yet. The Narnians would never allow it, and either rescue Rilian from her clutches or brand him as a traitor and usurper (since his father was still alive). Of course, the witch had all the earthmen on her side, so perhaps she would have succeeded in defeating the Narnians in battle (many of their best warriors were lost looking for the prince), but if she could win it by force, why did she need Rilian? I doubt her being married to him would make the surviving Narnians any more accepting of her authority. She would have been better off convincing Rilian to marry her and returning with him as his bride (peacefully) on the news of Caspian’s death. Why did she plan to make him take take by force what would one day be his by right?

Perhaps I’ve missed something; perhaps there are more clues as to her schemes later in the book that I have forgotten. Regardless, the witch’s plans seem rather strange to me.

In the end, she failed. Her silver chair, whatever its full purpose, was destroyed, as was she along with her plans. We’ll never know, thankfully, exactly what she was up to. But reading it this time round, I couldn’t help but be curious.

It is clear, though, that the silver chair was indeed important to her schemes. In destroying the chair, Rilian broke her spell. I find it interesting that she returns (unexpectedly early) almost as soon as it is destroyed, as if she instinctively knew something had gone wrong. Her response on seeing Rilian free and the chair destroyed is telling:

“She turned very white; but Jill thought it was the sort of whiteness that comes over some people’s faces not when they are frightened, but when they are angry. For a moment the witch fixed her eyes on the Prince. And there was murder in them.”

The Silver Chair: Chapter 10

Underlands

When my siblings and I were young, we used to play a game which we called “Worlds”. What we referred to as “worlds”, were imaginary underground layers of Earth that we found “by accident” one day while playing in the garden with our cousin. Of course, none of our adventures really happened underground – children have the most amazing imagination – but we pretended that we could get to these “underground worlds” by special doorways (the stairs down the bank from the swimming pool to the lower front yard made a good entryway) . Each world/layer had a similar layout to the one above, explaining why each looked identical to the other (which, incidentally, looked identical to the layout of our garden). The underground worlds/layers had fake skies, which explained the presence of sunlight and blue sky in what was supposed to be Underground.

We had all sorts of amazing adventures in these worlds, which were ruled over by a number of spikey plants in our garden (cycads) who were given Greek names: Alpha, Beta, Gamma and Sir. Sir was the first one we met on our adventures, and the leader of all the worlds – we hadn't come up with the Greek names when we met him. Oh, and then there was Omnicron (yes, mispronounced as it's misspelt). He was the evil cycad whom we defeated and got replaced by a cool cycad named Jack, who had an Australian accent. Our long concrete driveway which runs up behind our house was the underground river, which opened into a concrete lake in front of our garage. It all sounds a little extreme now, but we had so much fun with it.

So you can only imagine my excitement when, a few years after we'd outgrown playing “Worlds”, I read The Silver Chair for the first time, and found a story of some children having their own adventures underground.

What is under the miles and miles that lie below the crust of the earth has always fascinated mankind – it has fuelled the imaginations of children and writers throughout the ages. What if we should find cities or civilisations of people or other creatures living in the depths of our planet? While voyages into outer space are far more widespread and popular, there has always been an allure of stories about “inner space”. Jules Verne addresses this question in one of his 19th century science fiction works, A Journey to the Centre of the Earth. It was the first of his books I read (some years after reading The Silver Chair), and has therefore had a special place in my mind, though I really need to reread it, as my memory of the story has been horribly warped by poor TV and movie adaptations.

One part I do remember about the story, is when the adventurers have a voyage across an underground sea. I was pretty sure Lewis, who was a fan of Verne, had had this in mind when he wrote The Silver Chair almost a hundred years later. After looking up a summary of the story, I've realised that that was not the only part that inspired Lewis. Verne's underground world also had giant mushroom-like trees, although in his world the light comes from the ceiling of the caverns rather than the plants themselves. Verne's characters also encounter prehistoric dinosaur-type creatures, which may have inspired Lewis' cavern of dragon-like beasts. A striking difference between the two accounts though, is that Lewis has a civilised and bustling city in his story whereas Verne's characters only encounter hints of intelligent life. I think it is fair to say, however, that Verne's account inspired Lewis' story. But like the good writer he was, he used only basic ideas but created the setting to fit his own story.

Another fifty years after Lewis' work, stories continue of underground civilisations in works such as Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series, which has a modern thriving underground technologically-advanced “fairyland”. In the Doctor Who episodes “The Hungry Earth” and “Cold blood”, the characters stumble upon an underground dwelling by a race of terrestrial hominids, the reptilian Silurians, who have made a place of refuge that they built ages ago to ride out the effects of Earth's capture of the moon. They are still hibernating there, for the most part, waiting for a time when they can return to the surface and live peaceably with humans.

A decade or so before this, a family of kids in South Africa played a continuous game of adventures in “underground” worlds. The allure and mystery of what lies under the world, albeit imaginary, has gripped the imagination of mankind for many years and will doubtless continue to do so. Despite this, I don't think any of us would really want a life underground.

Many sink down to the Underworld...and few return to the sunlit lands

Ironically, I was reading this passage sitting out in bright South African sunshine on one of the warmest days we've had this winter. I've come to appreciate the sun a great deal after spending the last few months in a very (even more than usual) rainy Britain. I learnt there how much I take the warm and cheery sun for granted, to the point that whenever the sun peeped out (which it did more often than I probably make it sound) I could feel the lift in my spirits. I'm not entirely surprised the Earthmen were so morbid as they were (even making Puddleglum seem cheerful). As much as an underground world seems fascinating or enticing, as much as I enjoyed playing and pretending as a kid, I think, like Jill, I would have not enjoyed a real underground adventure. And I'm truly grateful that I live in the sunlit realms.