Faith under stress

Prince Caspian’s uncle, the usurper Miraz (Sergio Castellitto), and his wife (Alicia Borrachero) have had a baby boy. Now Caspian (Ben Barnes), the rightful heir, stands in the way of Miraz’s ambition for his son to become king. Warned of the danger by his tutor Doctor Cornelius (Vincent Grass), and entrusted with a magical horn, Caspian flees the castle, hotly pursued by some of Miraz’s men. Deep in the forest, he falls from his horse and is terrified to see two dwarves, who he assumes are hostile, running towards him. He blows the horn, but the magical help apparently fails to materialise.

What he doesn’t know, of course, is that the horn summons Peter (William Moseley), Susan (Anna Popplewell), Edmund (Skandar Keynes) and Lucy (Georgie Henley) back into Narnia. Although only a year has passed in our world, the Pevensies are astonished to discover that 1300 years have passed in their absence and that nothing is the same. Before long, their first encounter with Trumpkin the dwarf (Peter Dinklage) opens their eyes to the new realities. ‘You may find Narnia a more savage place than you remember,’ he tells them after they rescue him from two soldiers.

Not only is it more savage, but the magic has gone from the world. In the intervening centuries, Aslan (Liam Neeson) has not been seen in Narnia. He has receded into the realm of fairytale for many Narnians who have come to believe that the stories of old Narnia are little more than myths and superstitions. Trumpkin is surprised to discover that the great kings and queens of old are not only real but standing in front of him. Yet even after this challenge to his assumptions, when Lucy mentions Aslan to him, he retorts, ‘Aslan? I thought he abandoned us when you lot did.’ For most of the story, Trumpkin remains at best agnostic, and often sceptical, about Aslan.

Trumpkin’s reluctance to trust in Aslan is understandable. Narnia is now occupied by the Telmarines, who have persecuted true Narnians. Those who remain live in hiding in the woods, where they despair of Narnia ever becoming free from Telmarine oppression and tyranny (in C.S. Lewis’s book, the Telmarines represent the Enlightenment rationalism which had come to dominate western society, driving out faith in God and a sense of the world being a magical place). There are few talking animals now. ‘Get treated like a dumb animal for long enough,’ comments Trumpkin, ‘and that’s what you become.’ Little wonder that there are dwarves like Nikabrik (Warwick Davis) who have gone much further than Trumpkin and ceased to believe in Aslan altogether. Instead, Nikabrik is prepared – or desperate – to trust in anything, however evil, if it will achieve the desired result. Nikabrik proves the truth of the epigram misattributed to G.K. Chesterton: ‘The first effect of not believing in God is to believe in anything.’[1]

Yet there are some, like Trufflehunter the badger (Ken Stott), who cling to their faith, despite all the difficulties of their circumstances. Aslan may be in the background, but they know he has not given up on those who remain faithful to him and trust him. Indeed, Trufflehunter sees Caspian’s arrival as evidence of Aslan’s aid, someone who is ‘meant to help us’. Perhaps Susan’s horn should have been blown long before, since its magic is essentially a call to him for help. The expression of Aslan’s assistance is not, at first, his direct intervention in the situation. He remains in the background while his representatives, the Pevensie children, come to act on his behalf. After their years of experience in Narnia, they have gained enough wisdom and skill to do what needs to be done. They naturally do what Aslan would want them to. Up to a point. The kings and queens do what is right as long as they see themselves as subject to his ultimate authority, deliberately think about what he would want, and trust him.

Trust is one of the central themes of Prince Caspian. It was of vital importance for C.S. Lewis who expressed his Christian faith powerfully through The Chronicles of Narnia. While Trufflehunter, Trumpkin and Nikabrik represent a spectrum of belief among Narnians, we are perhaps surprised to also discover a wide range of attitudes among the Pevensies. They, too, are troubled by the state that Narnia is in, and even more by Aslan’s apparent absence. There is more going on than this, however. While they are travelling to Aslan’s How, Lucy thinks she sees Aslan. Peter and Susan are very sceptical, while Edmund is unsure but prepared to trust what Lucy says. Lucy is shaken by Peter and Susan’s disbelief. The older siblings think that they ought to be the ones to see Aslan first, or that he should act in a way that conforms to their expectations. Lucy, though, is always Lewis’s great hero of faith (something which comes out much clearer in the book than in the film). Others may look down on her because she is the youngest, but she demonstrates a simple, straightforward, child-like (not childish) faith in Aslan. Because of her trust, she has a vivid dream of a private encounter with Aslan (it’s a real meeting in the book; a key scene in a vital section of the story which is sadly weakened in the film). She is surprised to find that he is bigger than she remembered. ‘Every year that you grow,’ he explains, ‘so shall I’ (not, as in the book, ‘every year that you grow, you will find me bigger’; a subtle but important distinction). Later, when Peter realises that Lucy had been right, he reflect on why Aslan hadn’t shown himself to them. ‘I just wish he’d given me some sort of proof,’ Peter remarks. But Lucy wisely points out that maybe they need to prove themselves to Aslan.

The consequence of Peter’s failure to trust Aslan is that he begins to trust himself instead. ‘It’s up to us, now,’ he says. ‘We’ve waited for Aslan long enough.’ He and Caspian plan an assault on Miraz’s castle (a scene which is not in the book, but is a great addition to the film and is consistent with Lewis’s portrayal of Peter’s confidence in himself rather than in Aslan). When the attack goes horribly wrong, the simmering rivalry between Peter and Caspian boils over, showing that the failure to do things Aslan’s way – even if that means waiting patiently – has wide-reaching consequences. Nikabrik’s inclination to pursue other avenues to success becomes a real temptation for Caspian and for Peter. But, at last, the stark evidence of the fact that Peter has not been trusting Aslan makes him take stock and re-evaluate his position. Peter’s faith is growing once more. Caspian, too, learns to trust Aslan rather than himself and his own abilities. When he admits that he does not think he is ready to rule Narnia, Aslan replies, ‘It’s for that very reason I know you are.’ Caspian and Peter have both learned humility, and they have learned that their leadership skills are best used when they are in the service of Aslan.

Aslan is not seen much in The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, but he is there nevertheless. Unseen, perhaps unacknowledged, he is at work in the situation through those who love him and follow him, and in other ways that the main characters are unaware of. As a result, all Narnia has learned that Aslan remains a force to be reckoned with, and that he can be trusted even when things are difficult. At one point Lucy acknowledges the difficulty of seeing that he is at work, yet she remains confident that, ‘He must know what he’s doing.’ These perspectives were an integral part of C.S. Lewis’s faith. God may appear to be absent from this world, but he isn’t; he does know what he’s doing. One aspect of the problem of suffering is that we learn and grow through it. As Lewis pointed out in The Problem of Pain (1940), another aspect is that it can also be used to remind us of our mortality and our need for God. But whatever the reason for it (and there are many other possible reasons), we can continue to trust God through it. Prince Caspian was written in 1951, five years before Lewis felt the full force of the challenge of suffering when his close friend, and then wife, Joy Gresham, was diagnosed with cancer. She died in 1960 and naturally Lewis found it immensely difficult, but he nevertheless proved the trustworthiness of God and wrote a book about his experience, A Grief Observed (1961).

For Lewis, the fundamental truth about trust is that the object of our trust must be good enough. This is the reason why trusting in ourselves and our own abilities (in some ultimate sense) is a grave mistake: we are fallible, fragile and fallen. In Narnia, Aslan is shown to be absolutely trustworthy, just as God is in the real world – by his character, his actions in history, and his promises. Faith in anything less will finally prove misplaced.

A shorter version of this article can be found here.

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