Book #8: Prince Caspian

I actually finished Prince Caspian about three months ago, just in time for the baleful movie adaptation. I attempted to write a withering comparative analysis of the book and the film to demonstrate the poverty of the film version, snatching what time I could on breaks at Starbucks and so forth, but other responsibilities claimed my time, and I never finished. Now that the film is all but forgotten, it seems rather silly to proceed with such an invective. So I will leave a quick post on the book itself.

Unfortunately, I don't have the time to give the book form of Prince Caspian its full due in this post. I hope it will suffice to make one small but crucial point. This book is about war. According to Michael Ward, author of Planet Narnia, its theme and mood are governed by the characteristics of Mars, the god of war, in accordance with medieval cosmology (another example of the subtle and erudite genius of Lewis). The Telmarines oppress the Narnians, and the Narnians rise up to cast off their oppression through force. However, such a reading (which is the version presented in the film) ignores Lewis' powerful subtext and the most important point in this book: it is not through force, power, and war that we are truly liberated, but through joy. A close reading of the story reveals that the Narnians are fighting for survival, not out of some sort of nationalistic or revolutionary fervor. However, as the battle rages, Aslan and the girls accompany Greek mythological figures Bacchus and Silenus, who represent joy, as they engage in a campaign of true liberation against the superstition, fear, and hatred which grip both the Telmarines and the Narnians, ultimately uniting both groups under a truce of love.

It is joy, not war, that truly liberates. Lewis, a wounded veteran of the trenches of World War I and witness to the ensuing spiritual atrophy across Europe, knew this lesson well.

Mythopoeic Society

I am still writing my full review/analysis of Prince Caspian (movie vs. book). Yes, it is taking a long time. I spent much of this past month writing an article for the Pensacola News Journal, arranging an academic lecture in the fall for the history department, working on my final graduate paper, and of course serving up confectionary coffee concoctions and generally being a nuisance at Starbucks.

So I should post my voluminous thoughts on Prince Caspian soon. In fact, I plan to break the whole thing down into multiple posts.

In the meantime, considering much of my reading revolves around C. S. Lewis and the Inklings, readers of this blog may find the Mythopoeic Society of great interest. The Mythopoeic Society "is a non-profit organization promoting the study, discussion, and enjoyment of fantastic and mythic literature through books and periodicals, annual conferences, discussion groups, awards, and more," with a special interest in the Inklings.

Clive Staples is rolling in his grave.

Wendy and I just returned from watching Prince Caspian on the big screen. It's passable entertainment for what it is, but it is regrettably not Prince Caspian. A more apt title would be Lord of the Harry Potter. Director Andrew Adamson's screen adaptation is a complete travesty. Adamson is a Hollywood-wannabe buffoon whose ham-fisted attempts at "character development" and plot contrivances have betrayed C. S. Lewis' vision and ethos - indeed, the very story of Prince Caspian. I suppose one shouldn't expect serious filmmaking from the creator of Shrek (which was far better than this tripe). And was that a Hannah Montana song at the end of the film?

Oh, by the way, Adamson was also the special effects supervisor for Joel Schumacher's Batman & Robin. That was the one with George Clooney. Didn't his Batman outfit feature erect nipples? Ah, that special Adamson touch.

I finished Prince Caspian (the book) recently, which certainly didn't help matters. It's a brilliant story, however. In the next post, I will go toe-to-toe with the cud-chewing simpletons who made this pile of refuse, er, film possible. Bill vs. the Philistines. And they thought Samson was trouble.