The Voyage of the Dawn Treader — Whose Quest Is It Anyway?
C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader; J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
IMAGINE being one of the Inklings. The odds are that you aren’t going to distinguish yourself as a household name like the broadcaster Lewis or fantasy icon Tolkien. You might instead be a “useless quack” — as they nicknamed their much-loved colleague Dr Havard; or perhaps you will be cut off abruptly before your fame is established, as happened to Charles Williams; or you may be chiefly a preserver of the achievements of others, as with Warnie Lewis, C. S. Lewis’s brother, and Christopher Tolkien, Tolkien’s son and editor.
Owen Barfield in later life was surprised to find that he was considered a core member of the group. Theologians started identifying the Inklings as “the Oxford Christians” with a distinct “Romantic Theology”. With the Inkling meetings long in his rear-view mirror, this gave Barfield pause, and he began to ask if there was something in it. He wondered “[w]as there something like . . . a development that was also a kind of christening” of the Romantic Impulse “taking place in that period in Oxford through the minds of these men”? In other words, did the Inklings share a quest without even being conscious of it as a joint enterprise? He wasn’t to be the most famous, but he played his part.
IN THE Voyage of the Dawn Treader, King Caspian comes up against the question: whose quest is it anyway? Looking at it from his perspective, he owns the ship, commands the allegiance of all on board, and holds the highest title. Surely, he is to be the hero of the tale?
Yet, all along, the reader has heard hints that he has mistaken his destiny. Reepicheep, the valiant mouse, tells Lucy and Edmund early on that, although Caspian is seeking the lost lords, the mouse’s quest is to go to the “utter East” where the waves “grow sweet”.
Towards the end of the book, all the lost lords identified, Caspian gets carried away with adventuring — far more exciting than boring old kingship — and wants to go on Reepicheep’s quest to the World’s End. His declaration is met with opposition from the crew, while Edmund even tries to pull rank on him as a high king from Narnia’s Golden Age. Lucy’s argument is the best, reminding Caspian of his promise to return to Ramandu’s daughter. His response is the age-old one of the dog in the manger: if he can’t have it, no one can.
Caspian declares that the quest is ended and he won’t let Reepicheep sail off on his own. Poor Reepicheep says: “Your Majesty promised . . . to be [a] good lord to the Talking Beasts of Narnia.” Caspian’s ungracious reply is: “Talking beasts, yes. I said nothing about beasts that never stop talking.”
RETIRING to his cabin in a mood, Caspian has his “come to Jesus” moment — though, in Narnian style, it is Aslan appearing in the golden lion’s head on the wall to talk to him. Caspian doesn’t quite apologise, but he is repentant — and, most importantly, he gets out of the way so that those with a journey still to make can do so. He recognises that his role is to be the one who makes the success of others possible.
This is the keynote of The Lord of the Rings. A support role is the mandate given to the members of the Fellowship, apart from Frodo. Aragorn is like Caspian — the king, the one who might be thought to be the most likely hero, who will surely be the main doer of deeds? However, he knows his role is to get Frodo over the finishing line so the Ring can be destroyed, not follow the mistake of his ancestor Isildur and regard the Ring as his quest. More mature than Caspian (he is 87, after all!), Aragorn uses the Palantir (seeing stone) to declare himself to Sauron, not to flaunt his return, but to draw the enemy’s eye out of Mordor. Like Jesus, Aragorn comes not to be served but to serve.
Reflection Read Matthew 18.1-5.
What support roles do you have? Perhaps as a parent to children or caring for elderly relatives, helping a spouse, or as a teacher, pastor, friend. Probably there are times when you find the burden heavy or the task thankless. As we approach Maundy Thursday, when we remember Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, celebrate and value those roles now as a servant coming to serve.
Julia Golding is a multi-award-winning novelist and director of the Oxford Centre for Fantasy, a small educational charity established to honour the life, work, and faith of the Inklings.
This is an edited extract from Wardrobes and Rings: Through Lenten lands with the Inklings, published by Canterbury Press at £12.99 (Church Times Bookshop £10.39); 978-1-78622-690-7.
